Bakery for the Blind

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya couldn't muffle the laugh that came out as she watched Morgan suckle the spatula. He looked so content and happy and much like a naughty boy placated by baked goods that the laughter just echoed out. It felt strange for a moment, since she felt she hadn't laughed properly in weeks, but then she just let it happen, feeling relieved to have finally lightened up a little.

"You can see it soon, I'm sure." She added reassuringly, taking a large slice of cake and plating it with a fork in front of Morgan. "I have all the different colours and types. There's calico, a few persians, a siamese or three..." She smiled, looking over at the cupboard. "I don't know how many I have now. I last counted two hundred and thirty one." The woman blushed a little, then gave Morgan's hand a squeeze. "The best present you could give me would be your vision back, so don't be silly. No presents." She admonished.

She did happen to stare at her blonde companion's rambling for a moment, before laughing again, finding it nice to do so. "I was good when I was younger. I was a junior olympiate." She trailed off, cutting herself a slice of cake. "It's where I met my ex husband." She admitted, her voice going a little quieter. She wasn't even sure why she was mentioning this to her friend, but since his issues with love recently, she felt he was in a similar position.

"Anyway. I should teach you how to ski, too. I should imagine you'd be excellent at it. Or at least make me giggle watching you try." Anya smiled, taking a forkful of cake. "And no. I will keep feeding you till you go bang. It's my secret scheme, you know? I may look ever so sweet but I'm actually planning to assassinate people with cake." Humour. She'd missed that too.

[Morgan Tonaya]

Thoughtfully, Morgan pulled the spatula out of his mouth with a smack of his lips. “Anya, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh.” He mused, idly twirling the spatula. “At least never like that.” He chuckled, a little sheepish. “Of course it took me acting like an idiot to get you to loosen up.”

Morgan shook his head. “Please. Everyone secretly loves presents. And I’m sure your cats would look forward to a two-hundred and thirty third friend. Or whatever the number would be.” He caught on to her subtle distaste for mentioning her ex-husband and nodded slowly, picking up his fork to begin eating dessert. “I won’t ask about your ex, but I will say that you don’t just forget how to be an Olympian. I’m sure you are amazing.”

It was Morgan’s turn to laugh, though he didn’t bother to reply until he’d indulged in his first piece of cake. He closed his eyes and sighed, humming in delight once again. “Anya, this cake is the perfect weapon. It’s absolutely delicious.” Around another mouthful of cake, Morgan continued. “I wouldn’t mind death by cake, I don’t think. But not before we go skiing please.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

"I'll be honest, I think for a while I'd forgotten how to." Anya admitted quietly, shaking her head. "You were acting like an idiot?" She paused, teasingly as she chewed a piece of cake. "I thought you acted like that all the time." A little smirk of mischief rose on her lips as she set the cleaned spatula in the sink to be washed up later.

When the blond man insisted on buying her another cat, she blushed and shuffled her fork around her plate. "Oh you've caught me." She said guiltily, lifting her hands. "I love presents, but more the giving than the receiving." Anya was grateful for no questions about her ex, and gently squeezed Morgan's hand, before arching an eyebrow. "I'm not sure about that. I'm out of practice these days, if I'm not careful I'll start losing my skiers physique." She chuckled. There was no worry about her losing that physique with her Resistance of cycling everywhere. Not that she had since her accident - it was taxis and buses to work right now.

Anya decided that she liked Morgan's laugh, and wished she could get him to do it more often. She leant forward in her seat a little as the atmosphere warmed comfortably. "Maybe I should have put one of these on the doorstep at the MSAD compound." She mused, not sure whether it was too soon to make light of this. "I'll try not to kill you off by cake before we ski then, but if you keep looking so down on yourself I can't guarantee it." She tutted, wagging her finger, before having another bite of cake.

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan’s jaw dropped at her jibe and he chuckled slightly. “If I could see your feet I would trip you. I think you should know that.” He shot back, surprisingly comfortable making light of his blindness…for once. He shot-gunned a few more gluttonous bites of his cake before speaking again, nodding knowingly as his friend admitted she enjoyed gifts.

“That’s part of the fun of gifts.” He swallowed the cake which had made his voice muffled. “Two way street.” Morgan shook his head slightly, pausing to run a hand through his blonde curls. “Everyone loves presents.” He concluded, nodding slowly before digging back into the cake. “Seriously, this is so good.” He complimented off-handedly.

There was a bit of a silence at Anya’s mention of MSAD, and a look on Morgan’s face that was difficult to read. It seemed that, if he could, he would be giving Anya a disapproving look, but instead was forced to simply gaze into the distance and look…odd. In reality, it was the exact opposite. His mask quickly crumbled into an immature, snorting giggle, which quickly grew into out of control laughter. “I…I don’t know what that’s so funny!” he howled, setting down his fork as his frame shook with laughter. Really it wasn’t funny at all, and it was way too soon to be saying anything of the like, but he just couldn’t stop laughing.

Perhaps it was a way to cope, to simply let out everything that was bottled inside. But whatever it was, it felt good.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Oh, so cruel." Anya chuckled, shaking her head and nibbling the remaining crumbs on her fork. "I didn't force you to cram the spatula in your mouth like a starving child." She added, giving the man a playful kick under the table. None too violent, but enough to be noticed.

She did enjoy the compliment about the cake, and grinned. "I'm glad you like it, I'll cut up a few more slices for you to take home for your mum and for Cobalt." She smiled, sipping her tea and taking another big forkful of cake. She didn't like to speak herself up, but this really was a lovely recipe she'd have to do again. "That reminds me..." She trailed off, getting up from her seat and limping into the box room, Orpheus trailing after her. Anya rustled around for a few minutes, before sitting back down and pushing something into Morgan's hands.

She looked bashful, and was glad Morgan couldn't see it. "I... I saw this in a shop in Vermont, and I remember you said you liked figurines a while back." The woman said hesitantly. "I wanted to get you a get well soon present and you ... you do like the Green Lantern, right?"

Of course, the laughter that echoed round the house the second the rather sensitive joke had been said instantly relaxed Anya beyond anything anyone could have said. "It's entirely inappropriate." She said, joining in the laughter with her own, squeezing Morgan's hand. "Hey terrorists, would you like a cream slice!" She began laughing louder and louder, till she realised she'd thumped her hand into some of the icing on the cake. She paused in her giggles, then silently smeared a large blob of the stuff across Morgan's upper lip.

"I think Darryl should be the only one out of the two of you who has facial hair." She chortled.

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan jumped at the little kick, more out of surprise than actual pain, though the look on his face suggested otherwise. “Me? Cruel? You’re the one who has just assaulted a blind man!” Morgan finished his last monstrous bite of cake, trying to smile around it as Anya announced she’d be handing over some of the delicious dessert for him to share with his family. “Fankoo.” He managed, covering his mouth to salvage the little bit of manners his mother had taught him.

Subtly, Morgan twisted his head this way and that, searching for sounds of Anya’s return. When his hands closed around something plastic, something small, he broke into the biggest smile he’d had since the battle. “Yes. The Green Lantern is my hero. My favorite.” He murmured, running his hands over the figure to try and figure out precisely what it looked like. He couldn’t tell, but it felt like something familiar. Closing his fist around it, Morgan reached out for Anya, pulling her into a sideways hug. “Thank you, Anya. This means so much to me!”

Managing to maneuver his hand enough, he playfully tousled her hair. “Even if you have a sense of black humo—HEY!” He recoiled back, laughing at the feeling of the icing on his face, he wiped it off and held his hand out for the dogs to lick. He couldn’t bring himself to wipe it in Anya’s hair, as was his original plan. “I’m telling him you said that. Then you’ll have to deal with his ego. And my payback when I think of a suitable punishment.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya couldn't help grinning as Morgan mocked her. "If that's assault, I'd hate to see what you'd call grievous harm." She laughed, finishing her plate of cake and moving to cut half up for Morgan's family and wrapping it expertly with clingfilm, popping it in a tupperware box. "It's my pleasure. If I ate all of this I wouldn't be able to fit through my classroom door." She laughed softly, setting the box in Morgan's lap.

"I'm so glad you like it." She said delightedly, leaning into the hug and giving Morgan a gentle squeeze. She did take this moment to give Morgan a fond look over, to make sure he was eating right and generally looking after himself. "It was sat in the shop and it made me think of you, so I had to buy it." Anya couldn't help but notice how fond Morgan was of it already. That made it even more worth it, and she just hoped he'd be able to see it soon and appreciate it better.

She grinned all the more as Morgan mocked offense at the moustache. "Oh heavens no don't do that. Mr. Bond is already one of the most dangerously egotistic men in the world, tell him that and he'll start grooming himself during lesson time." The woman laughed, nudging Morgan's arm. "Shall we head to the sofa now? Dashie's missing your lap already."

[Morgan Tonaya]

Pondering the ballooning sizes that came from too much cake intake, Morgan nodded sagely. “You’re probably right, but you’d be one happy woman, I’d bet.” He mused, chuckling a bit at the thought of a fat Anya. It was a cartoonish imagining, being that he could hardly imagine Anya as anything other than his pretty Russian coworker.

Morgan ran his palm of the figure, closing it in his folded hands and sighing softly. “I’ll put it with the other things on my dresser…” He smiled distantly. “With the other things that I want to be the first things I see if I wake up with vision again.” He explained. So far the tiny shrine of the dresser was small, a picture of Darryl with Tory. A photo of his mother, and a green lantern ring she’d given him. And now this figure.

Chuckling at Darryl’s expense was always nice, but Morgan couldn’t do anything more than shake his head. He had a bit of an ego, but Tory had really shaped him up. Morgan just wished he could stay closer to his busy friend. “Well, can’t keep a good kitty waiting, now can I?” Morgan chirped.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Oh wouldn't I." Anya laughed, lifting up from the table and cleaning it up. There was a gentle tinkle of plates and forks in the dishwasher, and then a soft content sigh, the sort you hear after eating good food. "But it'd make cycling a lot harder." She smiled, moving back over to Morgan's side.

"That's..." Anya felt moved. She didn't really know what to say to such a sweet gesture. "... I'm sure you'll wake up seeing really soon." She managed, giving Morgan's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let me take you over to the sofa." She added, guiding her friend over with tentative touches to his hand.

Dashenka arched up instantly as the blonde man sat on the sofa, moving over to lie on his lap and purr her heart out. Orpheus and the newly named Jordan also came to crowd the sofa, Anya settling down at the other side, having been shoved out of Morgan's reach by the animals. "Morgan?" She said after a moment's silence. "Promise me something? That you wont use your power like that again."

She laughed nervously, almost sounding slightly hurt. "I was really scared for you." There. She'd admitted it. It was selfish considering Morgan was the one who had been burdened, but that look... with the raw skin and the bleeding eyes. The terror. "No more pretending to be a superhero." The woman added to lighten the sudden somber tone. "Unless it's History Man, or Spatula Boy."

[Morgan Tonaya]

“Thanks.” Morgan said with a nod as Anya led him towards the couch. He could usually avoid smashing his shins into the coffee table, at least these days. The first few times walking in someone else’s home was like being a toddler again: tiny, shambling steps full of uncertainty, like at any moment he might find one foot in a gaping black hole. He didn’t feel like that so much anymore in Anya’s home…though occasionally he did bump his shins.

It wasn’t long before Morgan’s lap was buried by animals. He chuckled at them and stroked Dashenka fondly, using his other hand to pat Orpheus and Jordan in turn.In the silenced, Anya seemed further away than she actually was, so he flinched slightly when she finally piped up.
Morgan’s face saddened slightly when Anya demanded a promise from him.

“Well, Anya. I’m no superhero.” He said tentatively. That was for certain. As much as he wished he could be, some days, he knew he wasn’t. Even then, he knew he wasn’t. “And I didn’t think I was then.” He added slowly. “It was an accident.” Flexing his hands nervously against the animals around him, Morgan shuddered. “I didn’t even know I could do that. And I don’t plan to do it again.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her suggestions for superhero alter-egos that he could have. “Well History Man is probably going to have to make an appearance back at the school soon. Once I convince my therapist that I’m ready to go back, that is.” Morgan pointed out. It was no secret he was on leave from the school, and that he’d been in therapy since the accident to help him cope. He’d needed it, but now he needed his job back. His students. He needed to get back into the routine.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"You acted like one." Anya said gently, not meaning to accuse Morgan, more to give him her admiration. "But all the same, I'm glad you don't want to do it again." She eventually said, scooting closer to Morgan and resting one hand on his, just smiling at the fact the animals all crowded around him.

When he said History man was coming back to Hammel, she smiled brightly. "If you need me to help you make your classroom a little more bump-into friendly, I'll sort it out." She added, happy to just talk to the man on the sofa. "I miss you. We all do. The students ask about you." She nodded, then propped her chin on her hand and simply watched him.

"Does History Man get a lycra outfit? Because I could always get sewing." She teased softly, before lifting Orpheus into her lap. "And if I'm a super hero, who am I? Scary Trainer Woman? CakeGirl?" The smile just kept widening. She felt better now the metaphorical elephant in the room had been mentioned.

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan chuckled and shook his head. “I wish.” He grumbled. “Frankly, I’m just glad I didn’t hurt someone else.” Morgan murmured, sighing softly. “The doctors said it had something to do with some scrambled brainwaves.” Morgan rubbed his chin nervously. “Like sonic weaponry. Apparently I’m lucky my head didn’t explode.”

“Do they really?” Morgan asked, slightly incredulous. While he’d always considered his coworkers friends, he never really considered the fact that people might miss him. And his students? “I just figured the long-term sub was going to go insane.” He said with a chuckle. Rixon and Verax in one class? Exactly.

Setting back to petting the cat in his lap, Morgan shook his head. “Lycra? No way. Obviously it would have to be some sort of substance I came across in my historical travels into the future.” He said sarcastically, sticking his tongue between his teeth and chuckling slightly. “You?” Morgan hummed in thought. “You’d be the Stern Chef. Of course. Caterer to the superheroes.” He then chuckled again at the silly thought of a scowling Anya holding a spatula as a weapon.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya couldn't imagine Morgan hurting anyone, he was too gentle and kind. "I'm glad your head didn't explode." She agreed with a soft chuckle, scratching down Jordan's back and laughing as his leg thumped. "That noise was appalling, I should have been more prepared." She shrugged. There were many things she wishes she could have done - but there was nothing either of them could do now.

"Mr. Verax hasn't been on campus quite as much, he's on an internship at the law firm." She facepalmed. "I feel for them, really I do." Her face scrunched up. "Aaaand Samuel decided it was appropriate to fling fireballs around my training room, so he's in trouble." She shook her head, then closed her eyes.

"Stern Chef? And there I was hoping I'd get to wear something like the Catsuit and pose. I guess I'll just wear an apron then." She chuckled and then lay back on the sofa. "Saying that, if I wore a catsuit I'd get hounded by Mr. Rixon." Her eyes rolled, and then Anya rose to fetch a glass of water to take her painkillers, leg throbbing slightly. She didn't want to worry Morgan about the leg - she knew he'd only fuss (much like Sean would).

[Morgan Tonaya]

“None of that now.” Morgan cut in before both he and Anya went off on their respective ‘shoulda, coulda, woulda’ rants regarding the fight with M.S.A.D. It was stupid. They shouldn’t have done it, and even when they did they should have done it different. End of story. Morgan was too busy writing the next chapter in his life to go back and revise old ones.

At least that’s what he liked to tell himself.

Morgan’s brow furrowed. “Vincent? On an internship? Are his grades even good enough for that?” He marveled absently. “It’ll be a miracle if those boys make it to thirty—twenty,even!”

Morgan snorted slightly. “I suppose you could wear a catsuit. But aren’t lycra and spandex awfully flammable? How are you to bake your assassination cakes if you’re in danger of combustion all the time?” Feeling her weight rise from the couch, Morgan tilted his head subtly, as if listening for her movements.

“Meds time?” he inquired innocently.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Morgan's voice cut through Anya's thoughts quickly, and she grinned a little. It seemed the pair of them knew there was no point in dwelling on it any more. "You're right." She said brightly, managing to let go for the first time in... a long while. She had Morgan to look after right now, there was no time to think on the fight.

"Yes. On an internship. And no. No they're not." She shook her head with a smile. "His power control is down though, I don't know why we insist on keeping him on campus." She offered a shrug and then realised Morgan couldn't see it. Amazing how much people relied on small gestures.

Once she'd got her glass of water and medication, she limped back over. "I'm not entirely sure, I'm not good with textiles." She admitted, throwing the pills down her neck and then taking a few gulps of water. "Yes." Anya said sourly. "Though I'm fine, I don't need them." Liar liar pants on Fire.