Help In Aisle Six (Spencer)

[Mallory Reynolds]

For Mallory, trips to the grocery store were as routine as breathing. She was always gathering more supplies for class, particularly when things went south and ingredients were ‘lost’. It was a more common occurrence than she might have liked, but it came with the territory of teaching teenagers. Especially the boys, when they thought it was funny to smash eggs on each other, or sabotage one another’s projects.

Yeah, she had her hands full some days.

She was currently shopping mostly for class, but a few items were intended for use at home. She was planning to make a few things over the weekend, and she needed weaponry. Her brothers were supposed to be visiting, and she wanted some new things for them to get their hands on. What good was being a hostess to family when you were going to serve them something they’d already tried?

‘Eggs, flour, sugar… chocolate chips!’ The teacher strolled down the next aisle, hunting for the last thing on her list.

They were easy enough to find, but anyone could make things with normal chocolate chips. She wanted to try something a little different. After a moment of investigation, she saw what she wanted and grinned. White chocolate chips, with hints of peppermint. Sold only around Christmas. That was what she wanted.

Even with the help of the heels on her boots, she still couldn’t reach the bags. She could brush the plastic of the bag, but that was as close as she could get. Why did they put the best things on the highest shelves?

“… Rats.”

[Spencer Cox]

There was one thing that Spencer had somehow forgotten on his trip to the shop. Quite an important thing where chocolate decorations were concerned, actually. He felt sort of stupid for not noticing sooner.

He wasn't in England any more.

Did that make a difference to his Christmas shopping habits? Yes, yes it did. He was used to being able to go to any old supermarket and pick up a whole bunch of vaguely shaped goodies to hang on the tree. Cadbury's decorations were the best and no-one could convince him otherwise. Oh sure, American chocolate was all fine and good but it was... bland, for the most part. The only thing it seemed good for was cooking with.

Browsing one of the aisles in vain for something interesting - maybe even something he could make chocolate decorations with, so desperate was Spencer - he noticed out of the corner of his eye a red-haired lady trying to reach a bag of chocolate chips. Looked like one of the nicer bags, too. With mint. They could very well have been the exception to the icky chocolate rule here.

At first, he didn't feel like he could help. He'd tried to be nice like that before and got red-painted claws to the face. 'Sexist pig! I can do this on my own!' He didn't quite understand that mindset, but not wanting his glasses broken next, he'd backed off and went about his business. But guilt took over. He was right there; he could give her some down and it would save a staff member a job, wouldn't it?

So he walked over. "Um, hi." Smooth. Great greeting. The 'um' really sells confidence. "Having trouble? Here, how many bags do you need?" Reaching up and grabbing a couple - hey, if she only needed one, he could take one - he offered them to her. "They, er, they always put the best things at the top, don't they? I mean, it's like they only want freakishly tall people to buy 'em."

[Mallory Reynolds]

Having never been privy to English chocolate, Miss Reynolds had no idea what she was missing as far as the holidays were concerned. Her holidays consisted of baking, using lots of recipes her mother had taught her, and some she’d come across herself. Store bought items, unless they were boxes of chocolates, weren’t even on the radar.

That being said, she figured it was a good enough time as any to pick up some of those Toffees, because hazelnut, toffee, and chocolate was a fantastic mix.

But first, baking materials.

She would have either a) tried to keep reaching for the bags, or b) flagged down an employee that was tall enough to reach, but as luck would have it, she didn’t have to do either. She turned and smiled up (way up) to her rescuer.

“Oh, thank you!” Eagerly, she took the bags and set them in her cart. “They always do, and I never pack stilts in my purse in order to reach them.” Or tall guys, but that was another matter entirely. Still thrilled with the fact that he’d helped her, she daintily offered him her hand. “I’m Mallory, by the way.” If there was one thing she tried to remember, it was good manners.

[Spencer Cox]

It was pretty bad that the first thing Spencer thought when the lady smiled at him was 'Oh thank you, lovely lady, for not scratching my face/chest/arms', and he almost froze completely when he realised it. It was a very good thing however that, unlike most of his random thoughts, that one hadn't suddenly come out of his mouth as well. Smiling back at her as she took the bags of chocolate from him, he shrugged slightly.

"Oh, don't worry about it; consideration costs nothing, as mum used to say," he said, pushing his glasses so that they sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose. Quickly, he added; "And she still does... say that. On account of her still being alive." Before he could even say anything else, she joked about packing stilts in her handbag, which gave him the strangest mental image. Wouldn't that be useful, though? Not for him, perhaps, but there were other things he could keep tucked away in a carry case, now that he was thinking about it. Lost in a little daydream about carrying useful items like stilts and springs and telescopic arms, he almost completely blanked her when she introduced herself, only seeing her hand in his peripheral vision.

"Oh! Oh, sorry, I, er... lost myself for a second, there," he said by way of explanation and he shook her hand firmly enough, but not harshly. "Mallory; that's lovely. I'm Spencer." Not that he thought she'd be too interested after he'd so rudely drifted off like that.

[Mallory Reynolds]

Not surprisingly, Mallory wasn’t the violent type, so her first inclination was to thank the stranger that had helped her, not scratch his face off. It was called common decency, or manners. Anyone that lashed out at someone offering help wasn’t all that good of a person. At least in her little opinion.

She grinned at him, the fact that he had an accent finally dawning on her. The slightly awkward add on just made the saying just that much cuter. “Aww, I wish my mom had taught that one to my brothers. I don’t think consideration is in their vocabularies.” It wasn’t that far from the truth – growing up, the two boys had been brats. Now they were adults, they weren’t nearly as bad, but Cody could still provoke his older siblings.

Thankfully for Spencer, she didn’t notice him drift off too much, being that she was looking over the newly handed over chocolate chips, making sure they were the right ones for the recipe she was going to try. That was the gamble in experimentation. Sometimes things worked out, other times, it was back to the drawing board. But really, how could white chocolate brownies with these in them possible fail?

“Oh! No, it’s fine.” She smiled at the handshake, and managed not to blush when he said her name was lovely. “Spencer. It’s nice to meet you! I like your accent. Have you been in Vermont long?” Might as well make a friend out of her rescuer.

[Spencer Cox]

She was smiling, which was a good sign. Unless she was silently laughing at him, which would make it a terrible sign.

"Yeah, you too. Your accent's nice as well!" And that froze him for a little moment... What kind of thing was that to say? Was it polite? Or was it weird and creepy? It seemed sort of like a good thing to say, and it wasn't exactly a lie because her voice was lovely and even, possibly a bit melodic though it was too early to really decide on that. Was it sort of like when someone said 'oh I like your scarf' and you responded 'ah, yours looks really comfy though'? Or 'oh, those sandwiches you made were amazing' and you replied 'not a patch on that brilliant coleslaw you brought'? Was it anything like that? He couldn't quite tell. He sort of wanted to apologise for being awkward and try that one again but it was already far too late for that, and he stared off at a far away packet of dried noodles in a completely different aisle.

Oh, wait, yeah, she'd asked him something. What was it? Right, how long had he been here.

"Oh, I've been here... about..." He really had to think about it as well, though it really had not been long at all. "Maybe a couple of months? But, you know, used to come to school here so it's not too unfamiliar. Actually it's... it's changed a bit since then but not so much that I feel lost or, or cheated. Why would I feel cheated? That's such a silly thing to say. Let me try again. I don't feel... I don't feel as though it's not Pilot Ridge anymore; I think that sounds better." His face was turning a terrible bright red; he could see the red beneath his glasses frames. "Er, well, so, anyway. How... how long have you been here? Or... have you always been here? Not... not in the shop, obviously..." This. Was. Going. Terribly. This sort of thing was much easier via internet.

[Mallory Reynolds]

Of course smiling was a good sign. (Besides, Mally couldn’t really be mean to someone she’d just met, nice as he was, even if she tried.)

Wait a moment. Accent? Did she have an accent? Cue a moment of Mallory looking rather unsure of herself, before realizing that for someone from another country, everyone would have an accent. It caused her to laugh, genuinely amused by this concept. “Well, thanks!” She wondered what he’d think when he realized that people from different areas of the United States all spoke with different accents as well. She’d been born and raised relatively close to Vermont, so she didn’t hear a difference in her own voice as compared to the native Vermonters. Then again, she didn’t pay all that close attention. But an English accent, that was foreign, and therefore, interesting.

He seemed to be quite good at getting lost in his own thoughts, but Mallory was a patient woman, and she was fine with waiting for him to process her question. The information surprised her. Waiting until he finished, she knew she looked somewhat elated. Another meta-human! But first, his questions. “I’ve been here oh... years. I went to high school and university here, and started teaching once I graduated. But I grew up in Maine, which isn't far from here.” She was just about bouncing in her heels. “You said you went to school here? Was it Hammel, by chance?” Why an English student wouldn’t go to Kocher, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to pry. “I teach there!” Nevermind terrible, in her cheerful little mind, this was going great.

[Spencer Cox]

Oh dear. He'd absolutely messed that one up, hadn't he? Of course she wouldn't think she had an accent; it was her accent and she'd grown up with it just like he'd grown up with his, but he was still really aware that his voice sounded so different to everyone else's here in Pilot Ridge, and everyone else seemed to have such a nice accent - and all of the other accents that seemed to hang around from all over, they were lovely, too - so he wasn't exactly lying when he'd repaid the compliment... and he wasn't entirely sure she was taking that as a compliment, so. One big wave of disasters.

“Well, thanks!” she said finally, and he visibly relaxed, though he was still twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"Oh, you're welcome, love,", he sighed, smiling widely.

It was nice that she hadn't done what a lot of people tended to and tried to force him out of his daydream. That often led to him forgetting the last things that had been said and people then got really frustrated with him. And usually it wasn't just an obnoxious snap of the fingers - some people tried to do it right in front of his face but they failed to reach that high - or a sudden word barked in irritation. Sometimes it was an elbow to the stomach or a sharp poke or a shove. Since Mallory had done none of those things and was very nice besides, he started to allow himself to relax a little.

"Maine? Oh, I always wanted to go to Maine," he said, nodding vigorously. "Mainly because I, er. I really liked television... lots of shows... based in Maine..." That sounded worse out loud; what was he even doing? "Though now I'm older it would still be nice to visit. Draw inspiration from the.. surroundings... lakes... rivers... the people. Er. So." Luckily she'd already given a good subject change topic, and he hopped onto that almost instantly. "Yeah, I, uh, I went to Hammel. I know what you might be thinking; what about Kocher?" Everyone seemed to ask that, and he figured he'd get it out of the way. Why he thought this poor woman wanted to know his silly thoughts and his boring past he didn't know but this sort of information flowed so freely from his lips. "Well, I didn't get on well there, really. So they got be a transfer and that's it, really. Not that interesting but that is that. Uh... Did... did you go to Hammel? Well, I'm guessing you did; you teach there and all... Wait, no, I'm sure it's not a requirement that you went to that specific school, but, um... Is it nice? Teaching there?"

((i am so sorry this is so late i am a terrible person))

[Mallory Reynolds]

No, no one had really messed anything up. At least not in the teacher’s eyes. She was used to all kinds of accents, being that all the students were from all over the country, and sometimes from outside North America. She found it easy to adapt to them all, and was fascinated with each of them. Spencer was just another with an interesting accent. (And just a little pretty.)

Love? That caused a quick flush of her cheeks, but she beamed up at him nonetheless. That was something you heard in movies. Not in real life.

She knew what it was to be startled from your thoughts. It was entirely unpleasant, and her siblings had often found ways to break into her quiet time while growing up. It was much better to let the other person come back to earth on their own. And she was rewarded when he started talking again.

She had to laugh softly at his little ramble. “It’s pretty, that’s for sure. I loved growing up there, but Vermont has been my home for a long time now.” She loved the place, even though Maine would always be ‘home.’ Attentive with the subject change, she leaned on her cart and gave Spencer her full attention. It was sweet, in a way, the way he communicated information. Once he was done, she grinned. “Yes, I went there. And I

[/i]love[/i] teaching. I teach Home Ec.” She waved her hand at the cart. “So I’m here all the time. But these,” she brushed the bags of mint chips. “These are going to be for my brothers.” She lit up then. (Really, anything to get off the subject of why she had attended Hammel - stupid embarrassing powers.) “I know! I was going to make brownies for them with these. But I need some way to thank you for your help, so if you’d like, I can bring you some as well?” She tilted her head after the offer was made, hoping he’d accept. She’d feel terrible if she couldn’t repay his help, and baking was one of her specialties.[/justify]

[Spencer Cox]

If she'd been blushing at all, Spencer failed to pick up on it and just grinned back at her. Her smile was certainly infectious, and he bit his tongue, catching himself before he actually said something so embarrassing. She might even think he was hitting on her! Not that he wouldn't under different circumstances, or if he'd known her a little bit longer. She was nice and pretty and everything but this really wasn't the time or the place for it, was it? Well, it could be if he wasn't so awkward. What did he even say? Your hair is gorgeous?

Actually that did seem like a nice thing to say, but it would start off in his head that way and come out 'does it taste like strawberries?', knowing himself as he did. Where was he? Oh yes, she was smiling at him. He had to wonder why, but when he did, the thought was quickly taken over by another and he had to force himself to re-focus.

Looking into her basket as she gestured, he found that his mouth watered with the idea of all the different things she could make with the items already in there. And then he got such a surprise at her suggestion... it actually made him speechless for a while. Perhaps she didn't know it, but that was some feat.

"Oh, oh really, you don;t have to do that," he said, waving a hand before realising how dismissive it looked. "Er, I mean it's very kind of you and I'm sure they'll turn out beautiful but really, it wasn't any trouble. I am freakishly tall." He gestured to the mint chips above them as though it proved his point before continuing on his ramble. "I mean if you offered me one I would take it because I'm sure it would be delicious and I''m not going to turn down a nice home-baked brownie but it's... it's okay. I hope your brothers appreciate your hard work though."

((okay I'm back properly now >_< I am really really sorry))

[Mallory Reynolds]

Getting hit on at the grocery store wouldn’t have been the oddest thing to ever happen to Mallory in her life. Better yet, she didn’t think Spencer was the kind of guy to hit on a woman simply for the sake of ‘scoring’, or simply for something to do. He had a sort of genuine sweetness about him that she admired. It wasn’t something all men possessed. Her brothers were prime examples.

So really, hitting on her wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. Even if it had ended up as sounding odd. It was already clear that Spencer might not have been the most eloquent person with words in the world. It was really sort of sweet. Like a little boy with a first crush, tripping over words. Except... unless she was a very special exception, he did this all the time.

It was still sweet.

She watched with a quiet amusement as Spencer fumbled his way through his words again. “Oh, they never appreciate it,” she said with a little grin. “And really, I’d feel bad if I couldn’t thank you, and that’s the best way I know how. Here.” She took out a pen and a piece of pink paper from her purse and scribbled down her number for him. “I’ll be baking all tomorrow. Give me a call and I can bring a few over, as a real thank you.” Words were nice, but this was her preferred method of thanking people. “Please?”