Author's Notes: Hi there. The fic you are about to read was originally part of a longer story, one I find I'm unlikely to finish. However, I thought this part of the story deserved to see the light of day, so here it is. I've edited so it stands on its own as a one-shot.

A few notes:

1- Italics in parentheses are Geddoe's thoughts.

2- Geddoe et mercenary band are on a mission that has led them to research the knights of Carosune, an army of ghosts that has been slaughtering outside of Syroku Village. The irate mayor of Syroku has sent the mercs to speak to Ol' Wilcox, a baker with a bakery far up the mountainside away from town. He has the most knowledge of the phantom killers.

3-The time frame is nearly a year after the game. Geddoe was FC.

Tough Eggs to Crack

The path up the mountain was paved with thick, black mud, snow heaped to either side in varying degrees of dirtiness. The evergreens bent their shaggy arms overhead, blotting out the white light of the sky. Wolf tracks patterned the snow, probably several hours -if not days- old. The wind rose and subsided alternately, as if it couldn't make up its mind.

The Twisted Cruller Bakery was indeed halfway up the mountain, sprawling and dribbling over the contours in damp wooden slats, a dingy tin roof, and bleak, gray-curtained windows. Its sign hung half off its rod, flapping inanely in the wind.

"Hm. Something tells me this contact won't be a gorgeous femme," Ace commented.

"Or even someone with a gorgeous femme daughter," Joker added.

They tramped up to the door. Geddoe pushed it open. A row of rusty bells jangled inhospitably. It was warm and dim inside and fairly standard. A counter with shelves, filled only partly with the very first of the day's baking. Most of the items were already wrapped, waiting to be picked up. (An odd place to put the only bakery in the area.) Tables to either side, one covered with the day-old.

"Coming, coming," said a voice that was ancient, high-pitched, wheezy, cantankerous and male. And after a moment, a door on the other side of the counter flapped open, and a man came backwards into the room. He turned around, displaying a tray stacked with what had to be -according to the intoxicating smell- double-sticky cinnamon buns. He kept them firmly covered with a cloth and set them on one of the shelves behind him, then turned again to see who his customers were.

Most of his customers jumped inwardly. Ol' Wilcox had an angular skull covered with loose, flabby flesh that appeared to have the color and consistency of unbaked bread dough. His black eyes were screwed deep into their sockets and glittered warily. His mouth was a slash in the flab, hardly any lips or teeth to speak of. His hair was long, white and mostly fallen out. A pale, frosting-pink scar bent down from his crown, down past the right eye and all the way down until it curved lovingly under his cleft chin.

"Eh, what? Who're you?"

"Strangers to these parts. What can you tell us about the Knights of Carosune?" answered Geddoe the Succinct.

Wilcox seemed to be turning Geddoe's reply over in his mind. Then his mouth creased into a smile, and he began laughing, a wheezy, staccato sound.

"The Knights of Carosune? Oh, they're good, they're smart men. Kill you if you ask them to! Spend all their days damning and murdering, real good men, they're living the real life. That's why everyone fears them -the Knights, they're real, everyone else is just figments of unreality! And you hafta kill unreality with the real thing, otherwise, you go mad, everyone knows that!"

(This is going to be interesting.) "What else can you tell us?"

Wilcox stepped suddenly forward, leaned across the counter right up to Geddoe. Positioned such, his head only came to the top Geddoe's ribcage, but he tilted his face up, his eyes shining like a dog's, smiled even more broadly and jabbed a finger at his scar. "They did this -the Knights of Carosune." His voice caressed the words. "To stop me from nosing around in their business. They're very responsible."

Geddoe frowned disgustedly. He could feel his group shifting uneasily behind him. He stood silent a moment, trying to gauge whether or not he could continue on without any information this man could give him.

Finally, with an effort, he said, "What exactly is their business?"

Wilcox opened his mouth to enthuse a bit more -but just then, Geddoe saw the manic light flicker out of his eyes, replaced with something cunning. He leaned back, his smile deepening. "You must really want to know. No one else does, no one asks anymore, even though I'm the only one with the answers."

(Is that why they keep you on? What are the answers?)

Wilcox was still talking. "Since you want to know -" His right eye glittered. "-If you really want to know, I'll tell you."

Geddoe didn't bother saying thanks, because he already knew Wilcox would never leave it at that.

He didn't. He said, very casually, "But I've got some errands I've got to run today. If you mind the Bakery, I just might be back in time to tell you some things by evening."

(No way.) "I think you can tell us now," Geddoe said, staring down his nose at the baker.

"I think you can wait," the baker smiled back.

(Not happening.)

But Wilcox was looking at Geddoe's party, nodding to himself. "Lotsa you, should be a piece of day-old cake to run the bakery. Not many people come here every day, it's so high up the mountain. And it's ol' Wilcox running it. No, you won't be getting much business."

(I don't believe this.) Geddoe turned to the others.

Ace's head was swinging back and forth, and his hands were making warding motions in the air.

Joker pointed to Ace and nodded his head vigorously.

Aila's eyes resembled tea saucers in size and shape; she was staring at Wilcox out of the corners of them.

Queen was staring at him intently, as though trying to remind him he was way too smart a cookie to get involved with this character.

Jacques was nowhere to be found, probably in a place where he had a clear shot at the baker.

Geddoe gave himself under ten seconds to deliberate. It was ample time to realize he, firstly, had no leads other than what the mayor had shouted, and, secondly, it was probably in his best interests that he find out everything he could about the Knights.

(I'm going to regret this.) "All right."

Wilcox's smile went even deeper into his face.

After Wilcox had wheezed and grinned his way out the door and along the path up the mountain -where he would attend to his errands?- the unit looked dubiously around at the bakery.

"I hope he's right, and we get no customers," Ace was saying, "'cause I can't make a loaf of bread, let alone a birthday cake."

"This is definitely one of our more...interesting...jobs," Joker commented, biting into a sugar-glazed donut.

Queen and Aila had wended their way into the kitchen behind the counter. Suddenly came Aila's outraged shout: "THAT JERK!" The menfolk rushed to join them. The kitchen was perfectly standard, if cluttered with pastry and bowls of frosting stacked precariously on top of each other. Aila and Queen were standing at the noteboard at the room's far end. The former had hands on hips, and her dreadlocks were bristling. "Look at this!" she said to Geddoe.

Geddoe accepted the invitation. He stepped up and read:

Today:

Fill in order for Mayor's Surprise B-day Party:

Cake: Spice w/ xtra buttery buttercream icing

Dinner rolls: xtra starchy w/ sesame seeds

Pastry shells: xtra flaky

Beef pasty: xtra fat

Mince pie: xtra mince

"No customers, huh," Ace said, reading around Geddoe's shoulder. "Just a helluva lotta work!"

Queen's eyes were narrowed irately. "I say we torch the place."

Geddoe shook his head. "We need this information."

Queen sighed.

Ace was scratching his head and frowning as he went over the list. "Are we really going to fill this order, boss?"

Geddoe walked resignedly over to the apron rack. "Unless you see a troupe of fairies who will do it for us." He tossed an apron to Ace.

"Boss -really-?"

Geddoe calmly tied an apron around his waist. "Really."

The rest of the unit watched him with varying expressions of dismay, then also went over to the rack to accept their fate. They just couldn't let their leader look less dignified than they.

"Aw, man, what's Wilcox doing with a pink frilly apron?" Ace moaned, staring down at himself.

"Maybe it belongs to his gorgeous femme daughter," commented Queen. "Looks like this man has an apron for each day of the week."

"Lucky us," said Joker.

Geddoe was getting out some mixing bowls. "Does anyone know how to make a spice cake?"

Dead silence.

"Come on," Ace piped up to Aila and Queen. "You're girls, you gotta know something!"

Queen slitted her eyes at him but spoke to Aila. "Aila, when was the last time you baked a cake?"

"Um, never. Queen?"

She shrugged. "I never much liked desserts."

Ace exhaled loudly. "Man, we've got defective females in this group."

After Ace had been bruised sufficiently, Queen and Aila blew on their knuckles and turned to look at Geddoe.

"I think you start with eggs...and flour..." Queen tried.

"And sugar," Aila remembered.

"Some liquid, milk or water."

"And then you beat it up real good."

"You've got that covered," Ace groaned.

"What about the spice?" Geddoe prompted.

Aila and Queen looked at each other blankly. "I don't know," Queen said. "What is the spice in a spice cake?"

"Pepper?" Joker tried.

Ace snorted. "Paprika?"

"It doesn't specify what sort of spice," Queen said slowly. "Dare I wonder if it maybe doesn't matter?"

"Who ever heard of a pepper cake?" Aila demanded.

"Cinnamon?" Geddoe guessed.

Queen shook her head. "I've never heard of a cinnamon cake either."

"Makes more sense than pepper though," Joker said.

"But wouldn't it say 'Cinnamon Cake'...?" Aila trailed off hopelessly.

Ace threw up his hands. "All I know is that I haven't had breakfast, and this place is just encrusted with carbs. I'll see you in a bit." He walked out of the kitchen and into the main room.

"You girls may not know how to cook, but we men always know our stomachs," was Joker's thought of the day, and he followed Ace.

The girls and Geddoe looked at each other.

"Well, we probably can't cook if we're drooling into the batter, right?" Aila suggested.

Queen shrugged. "If you can find me something that isn't loaded with sugar, sure I'll join in the Merry Feast of Wilcox's Profits."

Geddoe walked out the kitchen door, so of course, the girls followed.

"Good bagels," Queen commented. "Be nice if there was a little protein..."

"Here," Ace suggested, "have some of these peanut butter stuffed double chocolate donuts."

Queen put a hand to her throat to stop the gagging sensation.

"You know," Joker spoke up, "I never would've thought so, but this cooking wine isn't bad."

"Hey, let me try some," from Ace.

"Aw, get your own bottle!"

"I like these sugar-glazed, cream-filled numbers," Aila announced, taking another bite. "If only there was some way to give them more -zing!"

"Glaze them with soda pop?" Queen dryly suggested.

Aila's eyes widened. "Hey, that's a good idea! Think he has any?"

"I think I saw some in the ice box, behind the eggs," Queen replied. She glanced over her shoulder. "How are they?"

Geddoe was scrambling a second batch. "A little tough." He paused a moment to flip his toast onto the other side (Which wasn't easy, considering there was no spatula, and he had to use a spoon, but a very long life of traveling had taught Geddoe how to be an adaptable chef).

"Can you soft boil one for me?"

"If you find a pot."

Queen went off hunting.

"Hey, boss, how 'bout an omelette?" Ace called.

Geddoe glanced at him sidelong. "How about some cheese, bacon and chives?"

"Could put some sprinkles in it."

"How about not?"

Queen handed him a pot. "Do you know that this baker doesn't have a single cookbook?"

Aila looked up from her soda-pop donut creation. "That's not possible."

"It is. We've got one of those stupid intuitive chefs."

"Yeah, you know." Joker went from bowl to bowl. "A dash of sugar, some flour, a splash of booze, and there's your cake."

"A Booze Cake?" Queen repeated.

"Sounds like a winner to me," Ace decreed.

"Do you remember that Booze Soup we made once?" Joker asked Ace.

"Oh yeah. Ergh. That was the time I was so drunk I almost married Trixie, wasn't it?"

"No, that was the time Jezebel almost had you sign the custody papers for that brat of hers."

"Oh yeah." Another swig. "The nerve of her! That kid's half Wing-Horde, you can see the wings as plain as day!"

"Why were you making Booze Soup?" Aila interjected.

"Yeah, why were you making Booze Soup?" Queen repeated.

Ace and Joker looked up guiltily, as if they'd temporarily seeped into their own little alcohol-tinged universe.

"Oh, er..." Joker.

"Well..." Ace.

"It was that time in Tinto -you know, when you and the boss were trying to pose as father and daughter and get through the check point to meet us-"

"How come you were separated?" Aila asked Queen.

"We got held up by one of Geddoe's contacts. Ace and Joker went ahead to meet with another one before he had to leave the area."

"And you had to pose as father and daughter...?"

"Yeah, and we came up with aliases, and then we forgot mine halfway through. But let's hear about this soup."

"Oh, I don't remember too much," Joker evaded. "It was what, six years ago?"

"Hm, sounds like Ace remembers."

"Well-" Ace said defensively. "What were we supposed to do? We were just bummin' around in Tinto, and we were sick of the inn's house stew so ...well...er, so..."

"You know, it seemed like a really good idea at the time," Joker told them earnestly.

Aila made the mental leap. "And you served it to the customers?"

"A really, really good idea at the time?" Joker tried.

"It was a night to remember," Ace reminisced through his embarrassment.

"Especially when you hit on that chick, and she totaled you."

Ace's frown was back. "Yeah, what was her name?"

"Nanami."

Ace shook his head. "Who would've thought such a cute chick could hit so hard?"

"Serves you right for hitting on a girl who was traveling with two tough male companions."

Ace shrugged. "Weird chick."

"Not as weird as that Millie one we met a few years back."

After taking a bite of her egg, Queen looked sidelong at Aila and said, "Just imagine. Ten years from now, they'll be sitting in their own flab, talking over drinks about us."

Aila blinked placidly. "I think we should kill them before it comes to that."

Queen flicked her gaze to Geddoe. He'd finished eating and was just watching them expressionlessly. "Are you saying we should get back to work?"

By way of answer, Geddoe opened the cupboard, looking for Cake Spice.

Which was just as well, because Ace and Joker were starting to look like pastries themselves.

"Okay, got the big mixing bowl." Ace pulled it to him across the counter. "Flour?"

"Yeah," said Queen, handing the sack to him. "A few cups -where are the measuring cups?"

"This is a really intuitive chef," Joker commented.

"I'll just shake some out," Ace decided.

"Not too much," Queen warned. "We'll need flour for all this stuff."

Ace dumped some in the bowl. There was a musty white explosion. Ace spat some out of his mouth. "Okay, what next?"

"Sugar," Aila supplied.

"Regular, brown or confectioner?" Geddoe asked, pointing to three different sacks.

They all looked at each other.

"Don't ask me," said Queen. "I thought there was only one. And I never eat it, anyway."

"I know sugar," Aila said, striding over and taking charge. She picked up each sack, weighed them in her palm, squeezed them to check consistency and took little tastes. "I guess we should just use all of them."

Ace took each bag in turn and relieved them of some of their contents. "Whew! This is one dusty cake!"

"Water," Queen suggested.

"Or milk," Aila advised.

"Or beer," Joker recommended.

"Let's try water and milk," Geddoe tried.

Splash! and Splash! into the bowl. "Yech," from Ace, peering into it. "What else?"

"Eggs," Queen remembered.

"How many?"

"Er..."

Geddoe suddenly had a distant look in his eye. "Wasn't there some rule? Two eggs for cake and three for brownies?"

"That's if you want fudgy brownies," Aila put in. "If you want cakey brownies, then leave out the egg." She frowned. "But I'm not sure those numbers are right."

"Hoo boy," from Joker, taking another swig of cooking wine.

"Well, let's just put three in to be safe," Ace ruled.

"Ack!" from Queen. "Take them out of their shells!"

"Details, details," Ace muttered, fishing them out. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Okay, three disrobed henfruits. Now what?"

"...Spice," Queen said dubiously.

"Let's just see what spices he has and use those," Geddoe suggested intelligently.

"Okay," said Joker, at the cupboard. "We got cinnamon." He tossed each item over his shoulder to Ace, who applied it liberally. "We got ginger...nutmeg...cinnamon sugar...oregano...table salt...citrus flakes...chocolate sprinkles...red hots... gumdrops...jellybeans...sesame seeds... paprika...thyme...rosemary...almond slices...candied violets...allspice...those little crunchy candy bears...frosted chocolate mint dollops...meringue clusters... and little butterscotch pellets."

"Well, it'll be spicy," Queen commented flatly. She looked up at Geddoe. "What happens when the townspeople come at us with weapons again?"

"Okay, we got the spice," Ace was saying. "Now what?"

Aila and Queen looked earnestly at each other. What else do you put in a cake?

"Shortening?" Aila suggested doubtfully.

"Yech," Queen replied. Still grimacing, she suggested, "Use butter."

"Think a cup will do it?" Joker asked.

"I don't know. You don't put butter on salads."

Joker scooped up a mound of butter, tossed it into the bowl. "Is that it?"

Geddoe strode over to examine the mix. He went a little pale. "Mix it."

Ace whipped out two spoons. "All right, let's get this batter on!" A couple of messy minutes later, the batter resembled pale, liquified puke with little things bobbing around in it. "Is that good?"

"That's a good as it'll get," Queen decreed, after examining the subject from several angles. "Now we need to bake it."

"In what?"

"In the oven, Ace."

"How long?" Geddoe asked.

Queen's face went blank again. "Uh..."

Ace nudged Joker. "Did she mention she's not the domestic type?"

"Well," Queen said, "let's put Ace in and see how long it takes for him to cook."

"Hey, hey, what? You want to be the domestic type?"

"Let's say...three hours?"

Geddoe shrugged.

"Whatever happens, we can cover it with frosting," Joker assured them, taking a bite out of a loaf of cheese-bread.

They had Geddoe start the fire (the one thing his true rune can do without incinerating everyone in the vicinity -including himself). Then, in went the cake-

"Wait!" Aila cried as the batter was halfway in. "Maybe we should take it out of the bowl."

Queen and Geddoe looked down at the bowl they were holding. "And just have it shlop around in there?" Queen asked incredulously.

"No, no -I remember...I remember seeing Mamie bake a cake, and I think she poured the batter into two pans."

Out went the batter. They looked for pans.

They shlopped the batter into two shallow pans they found. Back in went the batter.

"For how long?" Geddoe asked.

"Probably before it turns black as coal," Queen replied casually.

They closed the oven door, as if locking the cake in its cell.

"All right." Queen glanced at the list. "Buttercream icing. Extra buttery."

"That sounds easy," Aila said. "Just butter...and cream."

"Ugh." Queen bent double, face drained of all color.

"It's probably really smooth and luscious," Aila averred, getting out butter, cream and a smaller bowl. Smiling confidently, she combined the former two and looked down into the latter.

"...Ergh."

"You need to whip it up." Ace pushed in, getting used to this cooking thing. "Here watch me." Grabbing another spoon -whip! whip! whipwhipwhwipwhipwhip! Whip! and WHIP! "There, it's ...it's...ugh."

"You need the extra butter," Joker reminded them. Everyone but Joker and Geddoe bent double and tried to throw up. Shaking his head, Joker calmly added another generous dollop of butter.

This time it was Geddoe who consulted the list. "Dinner rolls. Extra starch. Sesame seeds."

"Didn't we put the sesame seeds in the cake?" Queen realized, straightening quickly.

Ace slapped his forehead.

"We still got a few red hots," Joker told her, shaking the bottle.

"Sorta bloody-looking sesame seeds," Aila said dubiously.

Ace wore an expression of deepest determination. He snapped the red hots out of Joker's fist. "Will have to do. How do you make dinner rolls?"

"Uh...along the same lines as the cake, I guess. Except no sugar," Queen decided.

"Salt instead?" Joker asked.

Queen tapped her chin with her finger. "Maybe we should have put salt in the cake...?"

Ace was busy sloshing, dolloping and mixing. "Hey, a little more flour here. And uh..." He looked up. "What's starch?"

"The devil," Queen answered.

With an effort, Geddoe dredged out of his expansive memory -or perhaps it was the True Fire Rune's expansive memory- "Potatoes have starch."

"Great!" Ace shouted, already the stereotypically angry chef. "Where are we going to find potatoes?"

Joker was thinking. "Potatoes can't be the only thing with starch."

Queen shrugged. Aila shrugged.

"Well, how're we gonna make them extra starchy if we don't even know what starch is in the first place?" Ace demanded.

"Shortening," Aila told him, thrusting a tub of partially-hydrogenated vegetable oil towards him. Ace took it and got out another spoon.

"Wait a minute," Joker suddenly recalled. "Isn't starching what you do to your fancy white dress shirt?"

Ace shook his head and slapped his forehead again. "Oy..."

"Okay, the rolls are...sorta there," Joker judged. "Into the oven with the cake?"

"Guess so," Queen said. Geddoe found a cupcake tin which they poured the bread batter into and then shut that away in the oven too.

"Aren't you supposed to put those frilly, colored wax paper cups under them?" Aila asked.

"Too late now," Queen told her with absolutely no regret. "What's next?"

"Pastry shells," Geddoe read.

There was a profound silence.

"What the hell are those?" Ace finally wondered out loud.

Queen and Aila shook their heads hopelessly.

Aila said, "I know what sea shells are."

Queen said, "And I know a shell's a kind of shirt."

Ace said, "But no one here knows how to bake one?"

Shaking heads.

Aila's eyes lit up. "I bet I know! I bet we have to make another dough and mold it into pretty little shells!"

Ace waved his hands. "Nu-uh, no way, I'm way too manly-"

Queen put her hands on her hips. "Ace, are you going to chicken out just because it gets a little Arts and Craftsy?"

"Hey, I am a man. Men do not-"

Geddoe sighed. "What sort of shells?"

"I dunno." Aila thought. "Probably doesn't have to be complicated. Just those shells that clams and oysters come in, I guess."

Joker finished off his giant chocolate croissant. "I guess we can handle that."

"Aw, man," Ace groaned. "I'm in a room full of defective women and Arts and Craftsy guys."

Joker turned to Queen. "How are you on defenestration these days?"

After Ace had pulled himself out of the pricker-bushes and heaved himself back through the kitchen window, they got to work making extra buttery dough, and then molding it.

"Mine looks like something I stepped in," Ace commented.

"Hey, I got a conch shell going!" Aila crowed. No one commented it looked more like a kazoo.

After they had suffered through a grand total of eight pastry shells, they pronounced themselves done and shoved the shells in between the cake and the rolls. The cake was jiggling and bubbling. (It looks like the Beige Plague,) Geddoe thought.

"What now?" Aila asked.

"Lunch," Ace interjected, before anyone could look at the list.

"I swear, I'm going to find something in this place that isn't loaded with fat, or sat fat, or trans fat, or sugar, or carbs or-" Queen's voice was lost in the sound of her rummaging through the shelves of the larder.

"Fat chance," Ace commented, biting into a custard-stuffed, powdered donut.

"Here you go!" Aila said after joining Queen. "Strawberry preserves!"

"Fruit equals carbs," Queen answered, her voice slightly muffled by the flour sacks she'd shoved out of the way. "Besides, they're probably submerged in that awful sticky-sweet syrup."

Aila unscrewed the lid. "Nup. Looks just like strawberry jam to me."

Queen took the jar. "I'm making more toast."

The unit sat in the main room this time, away from all those regrettable mixing bowls, and just grabbed what they wanted from the shelves. Queen and Aila sat on the counter, noshing on jam toast and, in Aila's case, the occasional bite of coffee cake. Joker had found an apple and raspberry pie and was eating it, first the crust, then the filling, then the crust again. Ace had built a fortress of cheese rolls, croissants, donuts, crullers and cupcakes and was happily laying siege. Geddoe grabbed a twist roll and made a fried egg sandwich (he was getting really sick of eggs). All in all, they were having a fine time, eating better than they had in weeks, in a toasty warm bakery in what was occasionally very good company. The only thing that could have ruined it would be the bells above the door clangalling cacophonously, signaling the arrival of a customer, and so far, that hadn't happened all day.

Well, suddenly it did.

The unit stared guiltily at each other, then at the depleted shelves, as if they too were to blame. Ace trotted over to the door, slammed it shut as the customer was trying to get it open, then, using his best wheezy, old man voice, said, "Wh-whoooo izzzz it?"

"Yvonne," purred a very sultry voice.

Suddenly Queen was driving her heel into the top of Ace's foot. She glared at him sideways, an eloquent glare that said, "Blow our cover and I'll rip out your large intestine and string you up by it."

Ace glared back (it's politer not to repeat what his glare conveyed) but answered in his old, wheezy voice again. But, just a little less wheezy. "And what can I get for you, my dear?"

Queen kicked him on the calf. Cut out the "my dear". And don't invite double-entendre.

"Ol' Wilcox, why won't you open up?" Yvonne just had to know.

"Er...I'm painting."

"Painting?" A pause. "Why aren't your windows open? Those fumes could kill you."

"Oh, no, I like them," Ace babbled. "They make the pastry start to dance. Well, in any case, I'm not open today -unless you're picking up the stuff for the mayor's banquet, which I hope not because it's, er-"

"I'm not, ol' Wilcox." What a voice! Provocative and naive at the same time! "But you promised you'd have my hot cross buns ready today."

"Oh, er, buns, uh..." He turned around and mouthed "What are hot cross buns?" The rest of the unit shrugged. With a grimace, Ace turned back to the door and wheezed, "I'm afeared they just slipped my mind, Yvonne. Er, come back tomorrow."

"Ol' Wilcox, you don't sound well. Are you sure you don't want me to come in and help you?"

Ace looked over his shoulder at Geddoe and mouthed "Please?" Geddoe didn't even have to move a muscle. With a sigh, Ace went back to the door. "No, dea -er, Yvonne, I'm fine, just the, er, roomatiz actin' up. Uh, tell the rest of the villagers not to come up today unless they want the stuff for the mayor."

A heavy, deeply-felt sigh. "All right, ol' Wilcox. But you take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow."

Yeah, well, Ace thought, I won't get to see you.

"Good thinking, telling the customers not to come up," Aila said, actually complimentary for once.

Ace was in no mood to enjoy it. "Yeah, well, let's get back to work."

Aila ran her finger down the list til it got to the next to last item. "Beef pasty, extra fat."

Queen crossed her arms. "This might be my biggest 'yech' of the day."

"There's beef in here?" Ace asked, amazed. "Why didn't we find it before lunch?"

"Because you would've eaten it, that's why," Queen said.

"Yeah! Exactly!" Ace looked around. "But where is it?"

Aila was half in, half out of the icebox. After a moment of rummaging, she extracted herself, frost clinging to her dreadlocks, clutching a paper packet of what turned out to be ground beef.

"Okay, good," Ace said. "Now all we have to do is take it and turn it into a... pasty."

Aila voiced their universal thought. "What's a pasty?"

"Paste is glue," Joker started.

"That's not it," Geddoe said, before that line of thought could go any farther.

"It's...um... well..." Queen looked off into the distance. "It undoubtedly can be baked."

"And be made with the ingredients we have..." Geddoe's voice also trailed off as he looked around.

"Maybe something on sale is pasty," Aila tried. "If we look around and find something we don't recognize-"

"And if we send up smoke signals, maybe some nice WIng Hordes will come down and tell us!" Ace shouted angrily.

"Wing hordes aren't generally that obliging," Queen said to no one in particular.

"Look, let's just roll the meat in some bread and call it a pasty," Joker spoke up, getting impatient.

Queen turned to him. "But what if the townspeople know what a pasty is?"

"We'll call it a fancy new dish from the south!" Joker suggested.

"Hey, do you remember that Nanami Ice we had back in the south?" Aila asked, getting entirely off the subject. "That stuff was horrible!"

Joker clutched his stomach. "Oh, I remember!"

"Yeah." Ace rubbed his chin. "Nanami. Do you suppose it had any connection to that chick?"

"Probably not."

Queen stepped closer to Geddoe. "This digression must mean they've figured out what a pasty is."

Ace whirled on Queen, face stormy. "Well, what's your big idea, Queen!"

Queen arched her eyebrows. "Other than burn this place to the ground? I don't know, take some meat, roll it in bread, blob some lard on the top and call it a meat pasty with extra fat."

Which was exactly what they did. They tried to get it into the oven, but there just wasn't enough room. Which was okay, since its present occupants seemed...pretty much...done. The shells looked like old parchment, or, in some cases, petrified wood. The rolls were a colony of little bloody brains. The cake layers looked like two circular mottled bricks. When Queen put a fork in them to see if they were done, a little air wheezed out of the cakes. They felt squishy but had none of the nice spongy qualities cakes are supposed to have.

Couldn't be helped. That was what frosting was for.

"Come on, trowel it on good and thick," Ace advised.

"I can't," Aila complained. "It's too runny."

"And clumpy," Queen added.

"And it makes me want to vomit," Joker finished.

"You need to lose weight," Ace told him.

Geddoe eased the pasty into the oven, closed the door, then tromped over to the cake-dressing process. Dessert looked like a dirty paving slab some large, affectionate monster had drooled over. "Smooth out that butter a bit," was all he said.

Queen splatted at it with her knife. "What time is it?"

Geddoe glanced out the window. "Two-forty, three."

"How much more do we have to do?"

Geddoe checked. "Mince pie, extra mince." He smiled very slightly and preempted any comments from his group: "We probably have enough time to figure out what mince is."

They finally settled on the slim chance that Wilcox was a deplorable speller and he must have meant, he had to mean "Mint Pie", as in, a pie stuffed with mint. Granted, none of them in their disparate lifetimes had ever heard of a mint pie, but stuff like that never stopped them when they were at the end of their collective rope. There even proved to be a drawer filled with dry mint leaves under the largest of the mixing bowls. "Maybe he smokes it," Ace commented as he passed a bushel up to Geddoe.

"The leaves need to be in one of those horrible, sugary syrups you hate, Queen," Aila said.

"Joy."

Ace was at his mixing bowl station. "Okay, whip up another cake batter?"

"No!" Queen popped up. "Pie crust is...well, a crust."

"Yeah, it's thin and flaky," Joker explained. Then, as an afterthought, "Unlike me."

Geddoe, staring at the list, almost couldn't bring himself to say it. Almost. "It says the pasty was supposed to be extra 'flaky'."

The unit stared bleakly at each other. "Great," Ace said. "It was supposed to be flaky."

Wordlessly, Geddoe bent, opened the oven door and picked up the pasty using the edge of his apron. Charred ash fluttered down from it. Grisly looking beef dribbled and oozed down the side. "It...flakes...sort of."

"It's good enough for Mayor Yellalot," Queen said. "Let it cool on the shelf."

"Okay, nice, what about pie crust?" Ace spoke up.

"Well, what makes things flaky and crusty?" Queen started.

"Prolonged exposure to this unit." Joker settled back with some donut holes.

"A different egg ratio?" Geddoe guessed.

Queen uncrossed her arms and shrugged. "Might as well."

So Ace, Queen and Joker whipped up another dough, this one with only one egg, while Aila and Geddoe hunted for syrup. Eventually, they just heated some water and poured some sugar and a bit of drying frosting they found on the shelf into it. Then they dropped the mint in and used their hands to glump it all together.

"Okay," Queen directed, as if she really knew what she was doing, "now lay the dough in the pan in thin little strips -no, no, thin as in how thick -no, thin the other way -ergh, this is sticky, put some flour on your hands. All right, cover the bottom of the pan..."

When the bottom of the pan was securely thatched with dough-strips, they dumped the sticky mint in and tried to spread it evenly. Problem was, the leaves stuck to anything and everything they came into contact with.

"Augh! Augh!" Ace yowled. "It's up my nose! It's up my nose!"

(Argh!) Geddoe was busy struggling to get a stray leaf out from under his eyepatch.

"I like my big dreadlocks, but a hedge on my head is really too much!" Aila wailed. Well, shouted really.

No matter how densely they thatched the top of the pie, they couldn't keep leaves from oozing out of the edges. And even as many as four days later, mint leaves would still show up randomly on their persons (Geddoe was forced to get used to his mint leaf until he got a little privacy to take his patch off in).

Queen and Geddoe shoved the pie onto its gooey, half-congealed place of honor in the oven. When they closed the door, a universal sigh of relief went rippling through the air like the first breeze of spring.

Geddoe threw down his apron. "Forget cleaning."

"He doesn't seem to hold the chore in must esteem anyway," Queen observed.

Ace rubbed his palms together. "Let's scrounge some stuff up for dinner!"

They lounged around the main room again. Aila finally coaxed Queen to have a donut. She said it wasn't so bad. (It was plain one.) Joker scored the all-day high when he discovered some frozen mozzarella stuffed breadsticks in the icebox, which they heated up (the breadsticks, naturally). Geddoe took some of the ground beef they hadn't used and cooked himself a couple burgers. He had to eat them plain, but they beat eggs. Aila feasted on crullers and later started fretting over her suddenly tight belt. Ace partook of everything and was the one who discovered ol' Wilcox's secret stash of brandy.

Around five-thirty, a bunch of dumpy housewives came for the stuff for the mayor's feast. Again, Ace wheezed on the other side of the door.

"Yooooo can't come in, too many fumes from the painting. I've made the stuff, it's all ready. Uh, I've wrapped it all up nice and good-" The rest of the unit was feverishly struggling with wax paper "-but you mustn't open them until you get down the mountain. Understand? All the way down the mountain. They'll, er, spoil otherwise. Uh, okay, they're ready now. You just all...turn around, so you don't smell the fumes, and I'll put them on the doorstep, and you can take them and leave the money-"

"Whew!" Ace said when the transaction was complete and the housewives were bumbling down the mountain path, unaware of the culinary perversions they were bearing to their esteemed mayor. "Glad that's over! Now all we have to do is wait for Wilcox to show up."

Queen frowned, but her voice was wry. Somewhat. "Unless Wilcox has decided to leave us in the bakery business forever."

"Hey-" Ace clinked the potch in his palm. "Pays damn well."

"Too bad we're too honorable to keep it." Joker glanced at Geddoe, hoping he'd deny it.

So did Ace. When Geddoe didn't say anything, Ace tossed the potch onto the counter and griped, "Honor! When did that come in?"

When Geddoe had turned away, Queen stepped up to Ace and said quietly, "When we sort of saved the world?" Then she moved past him to see if there weren't any croissants dripping butter.

Just then, Jacques walked in.

"Jacques!" Ace yelped. "Where've you been all day?"

"Listening to the wind," Jacques answered, a little detatchedly.

"Well that's nice!" Ace thrust his hands onto his hips. "Do you know that while you've been chatting up the wind, we've been in here baking our butts off!"

Jacques blinked. "Baking?" He thought a moment. "You should have told me. My mother's a baker."

There was no point in saying anything to that.

"Let's get going as soon as we can," Queen said. She looked thoughtful. "I hope no one in the village dies."

"Serve them right," Ace countered.

"We sure did," Joker agreed.