Metaphor Pie

An Of Old Mystics Interlude

by Wolfling

(Rated PG)


The domestic life had finally made Ethan lose his mind. It had to have; what else explained the sudden delusion that if he found a simple step by step recipe he'd be able to follow it and end up with an edible product without destroying anything?

Still it could have been worse; nothing had burst into flame this time -- yet -- and they probably should have gotten a new mixer months ago anyway. There had been an awful lot of sweeping and mopping involved in the clean up, but Ethan had managed to finally get the floor and counters clean again. The ceiling was proving a bit more difficult, but maybe he'd get lucky and no one would look up. He still wasn't sure how that had happened anyway; maybe he'd been a bit overly enthusiastic in his mixing.

But for all the effort and work Ethan had put into making what was supposed to be a relatively simple recipe, the end result left a great deal to be desired. He had stared glumly when he'd first taken it from the oven for a good five minutes at what was supposed to be a perfectly round, perfectly cooked rhubarb pie. What it actually was, was mishapen, a bit lop sided and overly brown at the edges.

If it had been up to Ethan, he would have thrown the sad little thing out and never spoke of it again. But Rupert'd had other ideas. He'd taken the pie from Ethan and banished him to the couch, insisting that this was what they were going to have for tea. Which was why Ethan was sitting here wondering whatever possessed him to even attempt to bake in the first place. Maybe having to eat it would at least provide a deterrent for both of them the next time he started having this particular delusion.

Before Ethan could work himself into a true mope, Rupert reappeared from the kitchen carrying two plates. He settled on the couch beside Ethan and handed him one. Each plate contained a large piece from the less damapged portion of the pie and several scoops of ice cream, artfully placed to hide the worst of what was left of the pies defects.

"Bugger," Ethan muttered. "It almost looks edible now."

"It is edible, quite delicious in fact," Rupert said, demonstrating by taking a bite. "Just because something's a bit rough around the edges doesn't mean it's not worth saving."

Ethan stared at his husband, realising that Rupert could well have used the same words in defending his decision to start their relationship again after all these years. He smiled and moved so that he was leaning against Rupert's shoulder. "I suppose," he all but drawled, "that after having dealt with my rough edges, fixing a pie up would seem like child's play."

Rupert turned his head and gave him a rhubarb flavoured kiss. "If anything, dealing with your rough edges proved to me that the rewards far outweigh the effort."

Stealing another kiss for those wonderful words, Ethan sighed happily as he settled against Rupert's side and tried the pie himself. It was maybe a bit tarter than he would have preferred, but the taste balanced very nicely with the sweetness of the ice cream. And he wasn't really thinking of this pie as a metaphor for his and Rupert's relationship. He really was losing his mind.

But given his situation and position, Ethan decided he really didn't care.


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