Old Friends

[intheheart]

Title: Old Friends
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Friends, then and now.
Warnings: mention of homophobia, drug use benign and not, swearing, Lars fails at getting polyamory.
So's You Know: This story also contains a blink-and-miss-it mention of abortion.
Notes: It took an excessive amount of willpower not to call this "Friendship is Magic."


1. cupcakes

"Hey," Gina said, and bounced up off her bed as soon as Olivia came into their room. "I'm glad you're here! I got us cupcakes."

Olivia blinked, clutching her sheet music to her chest, and looking like nothing quite so much as a deer in the headlights. "I... I don't understand."

Gina blinked. "Well... I thought we could hang out," she said, cautiously. "We've been living together two weeks and I don't think I know you."

"So... cupcakes," Olivia said, sounding lost.

"So cupcakes!" Gina said, brightly.

She was starting to lose hope when Olivia smiled, soft. "Okay. So cupcakes."

--

"Girl's night?" Olivia asked, as soon as Gina picked up. "I bought cupcakes."

"I am there," Gina said immediately, so fast Olivia laughed. "No, don't laugh at me, if I don't get some time off I'm going to kill one of my kids."

"I know what you mean," Olivia said, and winced as something crashed in the kitchen. "My girls are very sweet, but..."

"But," Gina agreed, and sighed, heavily. "My God, I can't believe we're mothers. Has it been that long since college?"

Twenty years, Olivia thought, worth every moment. "I'm afraid it has," she said instead, and smiled.



2. muffins

"Have you eaten at all this morning?" Tiffany asked, and sat down beside Ivy, who looked like she'd been up all night studying. Those dark rings under her eyes couldn’t be good. "You look thin."

Ivy glanced up, and even her eyes looked glazed. "Um? Morning?"

"I'll take that as a no," Tiffany said, sighed, and put her blueberry muffin down by Ivy's elbow. "Here, you can have mine. I've got to go by the cafeteria on my way to class anyway."

Ivy smiled, wearily, and took the muffin. "Thanks, Tiff. VCAT, y'know."

"Yeah," Tiffany said, and smiled. "I know."

--

"Hey, Tiff," Ivy said, and sat across the table from her friend with a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin. "I think I owe you this."

Tiffany took the muffin with a puzzled smile on her face. "Sorry?"

"Remember when I was studying for the VCAT and you fed me for like three weeks solid?" Ivy grinned at her, a little sheepishly. "I was thinking about it when you called."

"Oh!" Tiffany laughed. "Ivy, that was ten years ago!" But her hand curled around the muffin all the same.

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "It's never too late for gratitude."



3. cake

"Cake," Lars said, holding his forkfull of chocolate cake aloft, "is the greatest invention known to mankind."

"If you say so," Aaron said, but Lars took that as agreement since he was chowing down on his own slice. "I'd think the wheel might be somewhere in there myself. Possibly."

Lars pointed his fork, now denuded of chocolate cake, at Aaron. "Who's the historian here again? Oh, yeah. Me. And I say the greatest invention is cake."

"If you say so, Stephen Ambrose," Aaron said, barely hiding a grin.

"Bite your tongue. He's a plagarist." Lars had another bite of cake.

--

"I brought the twins a cake!" Lars announced, sailing in with a box in his arms.

Aaron, whose kids were plenty wired already, winced. "Okay, okay, don't say it too loud. Apparently everybody wants to feed them sugar today." He took the box and hid it atop the refrigerator—the twins were still too short for that.

"Well, of course." Lars leaned his elbows on the counter. "It's their birthday and our revenge on every bad thing you ever did to us."

"Oh, boy." Aaron smiled. "Twenty years of karma coming back at once. Yeesh."

Lars grinned. "Look out below."



4. waffles

Aaron came out of his room one night, yawning and scrubbing his hands through his hair, and stopped dead at the blonde girl sitting sullenly at the table, poking at a pile of waffles.

"Good morning," his father said. "Aaron, this is Danny. Danny, my son Aaron."

"Uh," Aaron said, and then he shrugged, mentally. Ivy was his sister; he'd seen weirder things. "Hi, Danny. Nice to meet you."

"Hi," she mumbled.

"Want some waffles?" his father asked.

"Please," Aaron said, and nudged Danny. "You should eat, they're really good."

She glanced at him, then slowly picked up her fork.

--

Danny slid into the booth across from Aaron, and grinned suddenly when he pushed a plate of waffles at her. "Hey, you got my favorite!"

"What can I say," he said, "I know you. How's DC treating you?"

"Good." She cut into the waffles and said the rest around a mouthful. "Course I think you really want to ask me about Summer. She's doing great."

She was right, but Aaron didn't dignify it with an answer. "You think I don't worry about you?"

"I think you worry about your sister more," she pointed out, then smiled. "Thanks, though."

"You're welcome."



5. pancakes

His new sister woke him up by shaking his shoulder incessently until he finally groaned, rolled over, and opened his eyes. "What."

"I want pancakes," she told him. "Mommy says I can't use the kitchen so you have to make them for me."

"I don't have to do any such thing," Aaron told her, but he was allowed, and anyway Ivy's pouty face was kind of cute. In a ridiculous way.

"Pleaaaaase?" she asked, cuddling up to them. "Pretty please with syrup on top?"

"It's sugar," he told her, but rolled out of bed.

"Not when it's pancakes!" she chirped.

--

Ivy dimly registered that someone was poking her, and then registered that someone was saying her name.

"What?"she murmured, and rolled over, and found herself staring up at her brother. "What," she said, in an entirely different tone.

"Hey, Vee," he said, and grinned. "Make me some pancakes."

"The fuck," Ivy said. "How did you even get in here."

He waggled a key at her, smirking. "Your wife left this for emergencies."

"Pancakes are not an emergency," she snapped.

He fluttered his absurd eyelashes at her. "Pretty please with syrup on top?"

"Fuck you," she said, but she got up.



6. scones

The month after she got serious with Ivy, Gina took Summer out for tea at the Ritz.

"Thank you for inviting me," Summer said, smoothing down her frothy white dress. She'd polished her shoes too—Gina could almost see her face in them. "I have really enjoyed this."

"I'm glad," Gina said, and took one last scone. She'd thought that the formal atmosphere might appeal to Summer, and she was pleased to be proven right. "Would you like to go again?"

Summer reached out and took Gina's hand, shy and tentative and heartbreakingly serious. "I would like that very much."

--

"Oh, he's adorable," Gina cooed, rocking baby Thomas in her arms. "Yes you are adorable!"

Summer smiled at her, and set a plate of scones on the table between them before sitting down.
"Thank you. I think he's wonderful, but of course I'm biased."

"All mothers are," Gina said. "I will say, though, that Thomas might be as cute as my kids."

Summer giggled, recognizing it for the joke and the compliment that it was. "Thank you," she repeated, and then, "I am very grateful for you, you know."

"I..." That, Summer thought, was startlement, and pleasure. "Thank you, Summer."




7. cookies

Danny opened the door to find Olivia on the other side, with a nervous smile and a plateful of chocolate cookies.

"Um," she said. "Hi."

"Hi," Olivia said, and smiled a little wider. "I heard you were moving, so I made you some cookies."

"Um," Danny said again, floored. "Thanks. I... that's really nice of you."

"Yes, well..." Olivia shrugged. "I've moved six times. It never gets easier. Do you want some help, maybe?"

No matter how many times Danny was reminded that she had real friends, she was always surprised.

"Yeah," she said, and opened the door wider. "Thanks."

--

"I made you some cookies," Danny said, when Olivia opened the door, and then looked a little sheepish. "Well. I bought you some cookies. I don't bake. Whatever, they're cookies."

Olivia smiled, watery. "Thanks," she said. "A good riddance gift?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "What, Ivy being a bitch again? No, I heard you were moving and I thought I could help." She shrugged, and leaned against the doorframe. "I'm not gonna say I'm not bummed you're leaving, but moving sucks no matter what. And what are friends for."

Friends. That was right.

"Thanks," Olivia said, and smiled for real.



8. cobbler

"My mom sent this," Joy said, and put a peach cobbler on the table. "My dad grew the peaches and my mom—well, she just put it in the mail. Dad probably made it. He has all sorts of hobbies, you'll see," she rambled on, as Maya picked up a fork. "I think he picks them up to break writer's block—oh, don't cry, honey, it's okay..."

But Maya couldn't stop crying, because Joy was right there and the cobbler tasted sunny, and she was still cramping, still in pain, but maybe everything really was going to be all right.

--

"I made you blueberry cobbler," Maya said, and rubbed Joy's back. "It's kind of burnt around the edges, but the middle probably tastes fine. I was never very good at timing it right. Your dad despaired of me." Joy gave a watery laugh at that, and Maya went on. "He used to say I'd never be a good baker until I stopped getting distracted, and maybe I'm getting there. I don't know. You'll have to tell me."

Joy was still crying—God, she was never going to see her father again—but at least there was Maya, and blueberry cobbler.

--

9. pie

Gail swapped bites of lemon pie with pages of homework, plowing through as fast as she could before class. If she couldn't get this chapter skiimed, class was not going to go well...

"Hey—" she glanced up, saw a black-haired girl smiling at her. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Sure," she said, distracted already. This fucking chapter...

"Early Childhood Development's a killer," the other girl said, and Gail looked up again. The girl nodded at her textbook. "Who've you got, Donaldson?"

"Yeah," Gail said. "What is it with him and homework?"

"I know how you feel. I'm Kim."

"Gail."

--

There was nothing Kim could really say, not with her husband still alive and Gail's dead, so she just sat down and put her arm around her friend's shoulders and said "I'm sorry," and then said nothing at all.

"I was going to tell him," Gail said, blankly. "He was gone so fast, Kim."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, again.

"I don't know what to do," Gail said, and broke down in tears against Kim's shoulder. "I don't even..."

Kim held her, and fed her pieces of pecan pie, and let her talk, and wished she didn't feel so goddamn helpless.



10. brownies

"You gotta try these brownies, man," Davy said, waving one at Nathan. He was slumped in the corner of a bunk, grinning like a lunatic but otherwise totally relaxed. "You off for the night?"

"....yes," Nathan said, eying him suspiciously. "Are those spiked?"

"Dunno about spiked," Davy said. "Maybe... improved. Yeah. Let's go with improved."

He had no idea how Davy's wife had gotten pot brownies past military authorities, but he wasn't going to argue. "You know those are against regs."

Davy waved a hand. "Off duty. Who cares?"

He had a point. "Yeah, okay," Nathan said, and sat down.

--

"Want a brownie?" Davy asked, when Nathan sat down beside him at the game.

"Are they improved?" Nathan asked. "I have to pick up Summer afterwards and I'm not driving stoned."

"Nope." Davy shook his head. "One hundred percent pot-free." He offered a brownie again, and this time Nathan took it.

"I still can't believe we got away with being stoned on base," Nathan said, conversationally. "Way back when, remember?"

"I remember," Davy said. "We didn't get caught because I shared with Belleuse so he would cover our asses. Strategy, my man. It works."

"Thank God for that," Nathan said.



11. bread

"You're new," Riker said, pointing at the short blonde girl with the spiky haircut and the angry scowl. "Who sent you?"

She tossed her bangs out of her eyes and said, "Some asshole in my gym class. Jim."

"I know Jim," Riker said, and considered her. She was only like sixteen, but she looked pissed enough that she wouldn't narc. She'd go for the good stuff, the expensive stuff. Might even start dealing someday—yeah, Jim had been right to send her, and she was worth the risk. "Okay. You can stay. What's your name?"

"Danny," she said, and scowled.

--

Danny wasn't completely sure why she went to visit Riker in jail, but she sort of felt like she should, and she was in town so why not. "Hey," she said, when he picked up the handset.

"Hey," he said, looking shocked. "Uh. Nice to see you, I guess?"

She shrugged. "What're you in for?"

"Possession," he said. "Be out in a year. You?"

"I'm not," she said. "My mom kicked it, I'm in town for the funeral. Thought I'd drop in."

"Huh," he said, and then, "You got out. You did good. After this? Stay out."

"I plan to."



12. donuts

"I would like donuts, please," Summer said, with her pleading look. That look always got Lars. He would have taken her even if he was stone broke, which he wasn't.

Besides, Summer was very picky about her donuts and never ate more than one glazed donut, with chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles. She ate neatly, and slowly, picking up crumbs with her forefinger. It was almost worth the price of a donut to watch her eat. It was worth the price of a donut to see her smile.

"What's the magic word?" he asked anyway.

For the form of things.

--

"I would like donuts, please," Summer said, for old times' sake, and Lars smiled at her, the corners of his eyes relaxing. They always wrinkled up when he was worried.

Not that she knew why he was worried about her and her boys. Zack and Felipe were wonderful, and they took such good care of her— she genuinely believed nothing bad could happen while she was with them. But he wouldn't believe that yet.

"What's the magic word?" he asked, and she smiled. He didn't believe it yet, but he would, when he saw how happy they made her.

"Please."



13. cinnamon buns

Joy and Aaron didn't have sex but they did sleep together, Joy winding herself around him like a four-limbed octopus. He'd never know how she did it, nor how she extracted herself in the morning and made cinnamon buns, but he was grateful for it.

"Where'd you learn to bake?" he asked, halfway through one.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she said, grinning. "My dad taught me. He taught me almost everything about cooking, actually."

"Mine too," Aaron said, thinking of early mornings, laughing, making breakfast, trying not to wake the others. "Good memories."

She smiled, softly. "Mine too."

--

"I brought you a wedding present," Joy said brightly, and handed Aaron a bakery box. "Or, well, I baked you a wedding present. Hope you don't mind. I'm poor."

"You are not at all poor," he told her, but he was already unwrapping the box. "Oh, god, are these your cinnamon buns?"

"You save them for tomorrow," she said. "And also, I'm telling your wife you have them so you can't hog them all."

"Spoilsport," he said.

Joy giggled, and lifted her chin. "Just looking out for her. We girls have to stick together."

He rolled his eyes, but smiled.



14. trifle

"Now we bake it for twenty-five minutes," Florence read off, and edged aside as Gina carried the cake gingerly towards the oven. "We put all the other stuff on after, I guess. Do you think this is really going to work?"

"Hope so," Gina said, sliding the soon-to-be trifle into the oven and shutting the door with a sigh of relief. "I mean, it's not like my dad won't buy it even if it doesn't come out, but I really want it to turn out well."

"Me too," Florence said, and hopped off the counter. "Let's get the pudding started."

--

Florence saw Gina at their high school reunion, across the room with her arm around a redheaded woman and her head thrown back in laughter. She looked... she looked so happy, and Florence didn't know what to do with that.

They'd been so close, until Gina told Ned she was gay, and Ned told Florence because he thought she should know. She thought now that he should have butted out, but at the time... at the time she'd been grateful.

She should have known better. Maybe she wouldn't have lost Gina.

She left the room then, without saying a word.

--

15. souffle

"We were only trying to help with the souffle!" Ahava exclaimed, her eyes wide and innocent. Then she dropped out of character and asked, "How was that?"

"Um," Duncan said, and then, loyally, "I'll say it was my idea." Even though it hadn't been his idea. Even though it had very much been Ahava's idea, because it was always Ahava's idea, because she was his favorite person and it was really hard to tell her no because she never listened anyway.

She considered that, then said, "No. I'll take it. But you're a good friend." She squeezed his hand. "Thanks."

--

"Fucking yolks!" Duncan yelled, and something crashed. "Motherfucking yolks in my motherfucking egg whites!"

Ahava stopped in the door. "Bad time?"

"What?" He looked up, a smear of flour across one cheek. "Oh, Ahava. No, come on in. I'm making a souffle, but the fucking egg whites... oh, never mind."

She did not laugh at him, and crossed the kitchen to wipe off his cheek. "Chill. This girl is going to love you whether or not the souffle comes out."

He smiled, a little. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, "or I'll break her kneecaps."

"Ahava." But he was still smiling.