#i think even juno was struggling to drag it near the end

[treewithabark]

At what point do you say, fuck it. I need to buy a waterproof longline.

This point. This is when you say, fuck it. I need a waterproof longline.

[artificialqueens]

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 5/10 - Juno

Chapter summary: Dessert week will see bakers having to keep their cool as temperatures rise in and out of the tent, with a caramel signature, a coffee technical, and a white chocolate showstopper. Meanwhile, Asttina’s astrology app proves oddly prophetic, Tayce and Aurora get closer, but Lawrence’s nerves intensify after an accident with one of her bakes.

A/N: We’re at the halfway point! I really appreciate all the support from all of you so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

WEEK 5: DESSERT WEEK

I’m here to win a cake stand. I’m here to win a cake stand.

Tayce thought that if she kept repeating this in her head, maybe it would stick. Because she had a Star Baker badge now, so she’d proven she was a competitor, here to win; and that meant she had to keep being one of the top bakers, to stay in the spotlight. That way, she’d avoid slipping down the pack.

The problem was, all through the practise runs she’d baked for this week back at home, all that had been on her mind was Aurora.

She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t, so stop torturing yourself, Tayce.

When Tayce had suggested fake-flirting in the tent, she’d wondered if maybe she’d been reading the signs correctly. She’d noticed Aurora becoming a little flustered, a little tongue-tied, in her presence, and dared to hope for a second that maybe … just maybe …

She thought that mentioning faking it might give Aurora a chance to tell Tayce if she wanted it to be real, if she felt the same way. But Aurora’s nonchalant tone, the polite, business-like manner they’d discussed their boundaries, confirmed to Tayce that she didn’t.

So, here they were. Tayce was faced with the prospect of having to pretend that her very real feelings were just for the camera. Even if they went so deeply down that she ached at every touch, every smile …

I’m here to win a bloody cake stand!

Aurora had turned up to Norton Hall this week a little late this morning - trains delayed, groundbreaking - and sprinted past the rest of them, dragging her weekend case, as they waited to go into the tent for the Signature.

Around the common room, the other six bakers waited along with Tayce. Asttina was on her phone, her free hand in Bimini’s; Tia and Veronica had kicked off their shoes and put their legs onto the sofa, curling up together and watching something on Tia’s phone; while Lawrence had a paperback copy of Cujo in one hand, chuckling at intervals, and Ellie twirled a lock of hair between her fingers and watched the brilliant sunshine through the window, ignoring everyone else.

“Moon in Cancer, waxing,” Asttina said suddenly, nodding at her phone. “Co-star is reading me this week.”

“What does that even mean?” Bimini asked her.

“The moon is your emotional self, right? And Cancer is its home sign. And Cancer is all about emotions and being emotional. I think,” she added with a shrug. “I’m only a beginner. So anyone with Cancer in their big three will be feeling all the emotions right now.“

Tayce didn’t know where her moon was, but emotional was right.

Seeing Aurora again after the week back home restarted the ache in her chest at the knowledge her feelings were in vain. Aurora did not feel the same way about Tayce as Tayce did about Aurora.

If she did, she’d have told me that she didn’t want to fake anything.

Still, even though it was unrequited, part of her still looked forward to seeing Aurora again.There was nothing about her that hadn’t piqued her fascination. That dimple when she smiled made Tayce’s chest tingle. The nervous way she tucked locks of hair behind her ears and the way she would look away modestly when the judges came near her made Tayce want to just hold her …

But I’m here to win a cake stand!

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Tayce said to Asttina, “but I’m sure it’s riveting.”

“What’s your big three?”

Tayce huffed. “Not a clue. Not a Scooby Doo. I just know I’m a Gemini, baby. We get a lot of stick, but that’s because not many other signs can handle us!”

“Okay, well what is your birthdate? I can put your details into the -“

“Sorry!” Aurora careered into the room, pausing for breath, and as soon as she did, the producer opened the door to call them to the tent for the Signature.

Tayce’s big three, whatever that meant, would have to wait.

——

Signature: 6 Creme Brûlées with set caramel discs

This week had been hot, and this weekend was forecast to be just as hot. All they’d been subjected to on telly and the news had been this week would have record-breaking temperatures, warmest May since last year probably, and pictures of people crowding at Brighton beach on the front pages as if sunshine was news.

We only get one nice weekend a year, and now we’re in a tent.

Tayce always hated the way the most intricate, delicate challenges always seemed to happen when the temperature was high, making all the bakes melt in the tent. It was always that one week where there was a heatwave especially prepared for the Bake Off, and this seemed like it would be that week.

Oh yeah. And the Signature is creme brûlée. Great idea.

It was still quite early in the morning, but the tent was already starting to feel like a greenhouse. Eight bodies in the room, not including the judges, was already starting to drive the temperature up, along with the beaming sunlight, not to mention the ovens and hobs when they would all start to light up for baking -

“On your marks -“

“Get set -“

“BAKE!”

Tayce grabbed for her ingredients. She’d made this creme brûlée recipe two or three times, and it hadn’t normally gone quite right, so she was not expecting to have a repeat of last week, when she’d won Star Baker.

Now that Cherry had left, she was right behind Veronica, and could see the exact regimental order that Veronica had everything. Her ingredients were split around the workbench in order that she would use them, with the caramel ingredients for the caramel disc right at the far end. Each timer she had - and she still used all five - was set up differently, with the one on the far left being the time for the whole round, but the rest timed for individual parts of each challenge.

Everyone was struggling with the heat. Even Asttina, right at the front, normally cool as a cucumber, was letting out frustrated noises, becoming more irritated the longer the bake went on. The cameras seemed to all be on her this week, as she clutched at her hair and stomped around the tent to the tea machine at intervals.

Lawrence too, to everyone’s surprise, was having an off-week. Whenever pans fell to the ground, everyone always just expected it to be Ellie, who didn’t seem to realise that she was about 70% limbs; but this week it was Lawrence who dropped the pan - and once she’d dropped one, every other kitchen implement seemed to slip through her fingers.

Then Tayce looked at Aurora, and her jaw fell to the floor.

That smile, that dazzling smile, the dimple visible from this distance; her hair tied off her face and neck, calmly mixing her custard ingredients, merrily humming as she heated up the sugar for her caramel discs, not really saying a word to anyone.

Aurora was calm, poised and accurate, like a Stepford Wife.

Tayce’s whole body tingled for a few moments as she realised that the happy aura she was exuding was contagious.

“How are you getting on?” Tayce said, walking over and leaning into Aurora’s side.

Aurora let out a contented hum. “Pretty good. Crème brûlées look good and so does my competition!” She glanced at Tayce through her eyelashes, as Tayce’s insides turned to jelly.

She’s a good actress, I’ll give her that. She’ll definitely convince the audience.

And Aurora’s calm mood continued all the way through, despite everyone else in here seeming to be falling apart. Tayce’s first caramel refused to thicken, and the second crystallised, but the third batch worked - finally, she said to herself - and she was able to harden it just in time for the discs for her creme brûlées.

It was a close shave.

At the front, Asttina slumped against the back of Lawrence’s workbench, dropping from view so fast that the medics hovered, thinking she’d fainted; but as Tayce approached her, after Bimini and Tia had already rushed in, it was plain to see she was fine, physically at least. She sat against the cupboards, sighing, as the others crouched around her.

“Bloody caramel,” Asttina pointed to the pan, still on the hob, “it’s my Achilles heel.”

Tayce peered into the pan, where the sugar had completely crystallised, just as her own had earlier; and all of Asttina’s creme brûlées were just setting custard, without the caramel disc on the top.

——

“Alright, Tayce,” Paul said, as they came to her for the judging, “you’re up. Tell us again the flavour of your creme brûlées.”

Tayce waited for the camera to point in her direction as they had all been instructed to do, before she opened her mouth to speak. “They’re blackberry-flavoured, and the caramel is salted and also flavoured with coffee.”

She watched, holding her breath, releasing it when the caramel disc cracked at Paul’s spoon hitting it - one of the main judging points for this dessert - and waiting as patiently as she could while the judges were tasting.

“Good flavours this week - custard hasn’t quite set, but the caramel gave a great crack, and the sweetness of the blackberries is nicely off-set by the salt in the caramel and the bitterness of the coffee.”

“Great job this week, Tayce.” Prue added. “Just needed a little longer for the custard and it would have been fantastic. Thank you.”

“Thank you!” Tayce grinned, as the judges moved away from her.

Noel hovered for a second, the cameras still on him. “I’m taking this one to go, alright Tayce?” He said, picking up the nearest dessert and walking off.

They all had to continue waiting for the judges and cameras to set up for Aurora, who was last to be judged. Tayce relaxed on the stool, as Veronica looked over at her.

“Well done on the feedback,” she whispered, giving Tayce a rare smile.

Veronica had started to talk to her a little more since Cherry had gone, no more people between them; and although Aurora didn’t seem to like her too much yet, Tayce thought she didn’t seem that bad.

“And you, too,” Tayce grinned back at her. “You and Tia got some good comments this week!”

“Everyone seems to be this week, apart from … well.” Veronica glanced to the other side, and Tayce hummed in agreement. Everyone on the other side had had poorer feedback this week, although still kind as always; but Asttina, Lawrence and Ellie all looked dejected at their comments.

Only Aurora was left to be judged, and Tayce watched the judges crack into the caramel disc and take their first tastes of her creme brûlées.

“The cinnamon’s there.”

“Yes, and the apple flavouring is too. The caramel is not too sickly, and the texture is really nice and smooth.”

“It’s … pretty much spot on.” Paul nodded, his face the vague surprise that he normally wore when he tasted good bakes. “You nailed it. Good job.”

The whole room erupted into applause as Paul held out his hand to Aurora for the handshake, Aurora’s jaw dropping in delight, Tayce finding herself making the most noise of anyone in whoops and applause.

Wow. I’m keen.

——

“Congratulations on the handshake!” Tayce smiled at her in the common room. “I said I wasn’t going to eat loads more cakes and things while the competition was on, but I’ll make an exception for yours.”

“Tayce,” Aurora murmured, smiling and letting Tayce draw her to her side, looping her arm around her waist. “It’s - it’s nothing - dessert week! It was the last thing I expected, I didn’t know they’d like it that much!”

“A win’s a win, bitch! Don’t knock it!” Tayce smiled at her, picking up one of her creme brûlées in the ramekin. Aurora’s was good, although the caramel melting with the heat meant there wasn’t really a crack to the top any more.

As she turned to go back to sit down, Tayce almost walked into Lawrence, who was standing staring blankly at her own tray.

“Oh - sorry Lozza.”

Lawrence sighed. “It’s alright. I’m just -“

But she didn’t finish her sentence, putting a hand to her mouth and chewing her finger, still staring. Tayce took a moment to really look at Lawrence, the vibrant purple of her hair slowly fading as the weeks went on, the rings around her eyes deepening.

“You were all nerves today, girl! What’s with that? You’re always so bleeding confident! Where’s that Lawrence gone?” Tayce followed her as she walked away, out into the sunshine again, away from everyone else.

“Just - I’ve just been really dreading this week,” Lawrence muttered, her voice starting to creep higher. “Desserts, caramel, all that shit - it just really makes me annoyed that I can’t do it -“

Her voice broke as she put her hand to her forehead to cover her eyes, but there was no hiding the way her shoulders shook. Tayce shuffled for a second, chewing her tongue, wondering what she could do, before resting a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder and squeezing it gently when she didn’t have it thrown off.

“Sorry - I don’t know why I’m this upset -“ Lawrence took a couple of breaths, turning her eyes to the sky to stop herself crying any more. “I just want to be good at things and when I’m not …”

“You just … panicked a bit I think,” Tayce said, “and then you panicked more because you were already panicking. You need to relax a bit! It’s just a baking show! You’re here to win a cake stand!”

Lawrence let out an exasperated snort. “We can’t all be like you. You’re practically fucking horizontal.”

Tayce laughed, although she wasn’t sure how funny Lawrence was trying to be.

——

Technical: Tiramisu cake

The Technical challenge didn’t see Lawrence looking any more sure of herself.

Tayce found herself keeping an eye on Lawrence more than she’d expected to, a small pang of sympathy for her growing in her gut. Her movements were cautious, tentative at first, but once Lawrence had knocked another pan over, she was off again. Her hands were shaking even from this distance, her moans of frustration turning into growls.

The problem was, the bake was so hard that no one really wanted to leave their workbenches and go to help her. Asttina turned around once or twice to watch her and ask if she was alright, which was batted away by Lawrence with a dismissive wave; but when the third one was met with a harsher tone than any of them had heard from Lawrence, Asttina promptly turned back to her own bake, and didn’t disturb her again.

With ten minutes to go, Tayce watched Lawrence slump against the back of Ellie’s workbench and slide to the ground. Ellie batted away the cameramen to run round her own to sit with her, and as Tayce peered over she could see that Lawrence was fine - physically - just sat against the cupboards with a look of utter despair on her face.

By contrast, Tayce glanced at Aurora, in her own world, taking her perfectly-risen cake from the oven and wafting it with a cool baking tray, looking completely composed and unruffled.

What the actual shit is going on?

Ellie was muttering into Lawrence’s ear, waving her hands emphatically; and Tia, her own bake already on the tray, cautiously approached them both too, crouching to Lawrence’s level to offer some comfort too.

In a few moments, Lawrence was nodding, rising back to her feet, and grabbing her glass of water.

Once the bakes were done, all loaded onto the trays to take to their photographs, Tayce stole a glance at Aurora’s. It looked incredible, immaculate and neat. Tayce’s own was sinking a little, but Aurora’s could have come from M&S. Maybe it had. Maybe she’d taken a leaf from Joe’s book.

She followed Aurora to the table, placing hers behind her photo, before turning to Aurora and mouthing well done in her direction, to watch her tuck her hair behind her ear and smile in response.

But before they had made it back to their benches, there was a gasp, a clatter - and Tayce turned to see half of Lawrence’s tiramisu cake on the ground, the other half intact but dripping from the side of the plate, having slid partially off it.

On her right, Ellie had blanched, a hand at her chest - a hand with a smear of cake over the back of it.

——

“I saw a fly. I saw a fly. I saw a fly.”

“We know, Ellie.” But Aurora’s exasperated words didn’t stop Ellie’s stream of thought.

“It was a fly. I saw a fly. Just a wee fly.”

Lawrence hadn’t been marked down on the fact that Ellie had knocked half of her cake off the tray; she’d been marked on quality of the rest of it - but she’d still come seventh, the first real bomb she’d had in the Technical challenge. Ellie, ironically, had had a really good week, coming first, just beating Tayce in second and Aurora at third.

But it didn’t look like Ellie would be celebrating any time soon, as she stared into space and repeated the same words over and over.

As soon as they’d all gone into the hall after they’d left the tent, everyone had tried to comfort Lawrence, although she’d maintained her stoic indifference, nodding and saying “it’s fine” to everyone. But the moment Ellie had come in her line of sight, her eyes had clouded over and she’d turned, sweeping from the room back outside.

Since then, Ellie had just sat glassy-eyed, looking at the picture on the wall opposite them and mumbling to herself about the fly she’d tried to swat away from the cakes, resulting in her knocking Lawrence’s.

“I’m gonna go look for a …” Ellie said flatly, standing up, but she didn’t finish her sentence, seeming to float away from them in a dream.

“Rory!” Tayce said. “What’s going on today! This is the first time I seen you when you haven’t been a bundle of nerves! Has someone spiked your cup of tea?”

“No!” Aurora giggled, waving a hand at Tayce. “Just … you know, remembering to enjoy my time here.”

Aurora was looking at Tayce through her eyelashes, a coy smile starting, and Tayce would never have admitted just how much her insides turned to liquid at her gaze.

“It seems to be working in your favour,” Tayce purred. “You came third in Technical, you got a Hollywood handshake for your Showstopper - next you’ll be getting a Star Baker badge just like me! And then we’ll be even!”

“Yeah, well,” Aurora grinned, “that’s the plan! Draw even with you, and then overtake you!”

Tayce threw back her head in sudden laughter. “Not gonna happen, babe.”

“Oh, no?” Aurora giggled, nudging Tayce’s foot with hers. “Game on, babe!”

——

Tayce woke far too early the next morning. She opened one eye a sliver, and saw the time was quarter to five. Much too early to get up. Sunlight was starting to edge at the curtains, not enough light to indicate the start of the day.

But the room looked a little unfamiliar, as if the furniture had been altered slightly. And as her brain cleared from sleepy fog, she realised why.

Shit. I’m in Aurora’s room!

The others had been drinking last night. After Ellie had come back in, tugging Lawrence with her, she’d fished in her bag for a bottle of something and they’d started some drinking game, but Tayce wasn’t in the mood to drink loads, and had leapt at the chance to join Aurora in her room again, for more Netflix.

She didn’t remember what time she and Aurora had fallen asleep together, nestled in the duvet, an episode of something playing in the background - but she vaguely remembered waking up briefly to Aurora’s face before her, her brown eyes soft as they silently searched Tayce’s for something.

It had felt like a dream, but now it was definitely a nightmare.

Once she saw her outline in the bed beside her, a silhouette draped in a halo of dawn light, Tayce sighed.

I can’t be getting in this deep with her. She doesn’t feel the same way. And I’m here to win a bloody cake stand!

She slipped out of the bed as gently as she could, pulled her jeans on from where she’d discarded them at the side of the bed at some point in the night, and pattered to the doorway, hoping the slow creak of her door would not wake Aurora, followed by a thud as it closed again.

Once she was back in her own room, she leaned against the door, the gravity of this situation starting to creep over her skin.

Tayce sighed.

This is going to be an interesting day.

Saying that, Tayce knew as soon as the rest of them had traipsed downstairs for their breakfast, that she and Aurora were probably the least hungover of the group. Tayce was alone at first, tucking into her beans on toast - god-tier breakfast, with a squidge of ketchup on the side - but as soon as Lawrence made an appearance, her face slightly grey, she’d swallowed hard and turned away to the tea machine.

Asttina and Bimini, coming back from their hangover run, looked more tired than anyone had seen either of them.

“No personal bests today, folks,” Bimini muttered, shaking their head as they and Asttina passed Tayce, who shrugged and continued scooping beans into her mouth.

“How long did you all stay up for, Lozza?” Tayce called across the room, but Lawrence uttered a groan and shook her head in response.

“Too fucking long.” Lawrence came over to Tayce, dragging her feet, pulling the chair out and dropping into it. “Asttina and Bimini went to bed, and then Veronica - of all people - challenged me to Truth or Drink.”

“Oh, right.” Tayce picked up her cup of tea.

Lawrence took a deep breath, staring at the tablecloth. “She asked me about Ellie.”

Tayce almost choked on the sip of tea. She hadn’t expected Lawrence to acknowledge the fact that Tayce had walked into Norton Hall last week after Technical, to find Lawrence and Ellie leaping apart from each other across to opposite ends of the sofa.

“What about Ellie?” Tayce said finally.

“You know already.” Lawrence sighed. “Yeah, we’ve gotten a little close.”

“But how did Veronica know that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I took drink. Instead of truth.” Lawrence shook her head again.

"Do you want to talk about Ellie now?” Tayce asked.

Lawrence rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I mean she’s - yeah. I kind of … ah, I don’t know. I mean, she’s great. But …” Lawrence sighed. “She’s probably got someone at home.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” Tayce said.

Pot, meet kettle. But Tayce pushed that thought away.

“And I know she didn’t mean to knock my cake over, I just got upset because of how close we’d gotten.” Lawrence’s gaze was downcast. “This contest starts to fuck with your head after a while.”

“You did look like you’d forgiven Ellie before I’d gone to bed, let me tell you,” Tayce said, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about,” Lawrence said weakly.

In the last couple of weekends, Tayce had noticed they would steal glances at each other when they were not within a six foot radius, somehow always at the same time, meeting each other’s eyes and then looking away again. As if just to make sure the other was alright. And they’d been doing plenty of that last night, lots of surreptitious glances at each other, when they thought no one was looking, giving each other secret smiles that lit up their eyes.

“Oh,” Tayce shrugged, “nothing much.”

——

Showstopper: White chocolate cake with at least two layers and one additional flavour.

Tayce still didn’t know why the British weather always waited until a complicated challenge to turn up the heat, but it did, and the Showstopper challenge - making white chocolate cakes - was taking place on an apparently record-breaking day for the weather.

No one was having a good day. Asttina was doing more growling and stomping to the tea tent, where a water cooler had also been provided. Veronica and Tia were fanning each other with baking trays. Bimini, who had turned up in some high fashion suit, was peeling layers off the longer the day went on. Ellie was wiping sweat from her brow with her forearm and plaiting her thick blonde hair to tie it off her neck.

Only Aurora seemed to be unruffled. She was quieter than the previous day, no longer humming, but the dreamy smile was still on her face, that single dimple maddeningly smug. Even though her eyes narrowed a little every time Tayce caught a glance from her, so she couldn’t have been entirely happy herself.

By the mid-point of the Showstopper, Lawrence was in tears, shaking over the workbench, a camera lens approaching her slowly. Ellie, who had been alarmingly quiet all day, almost leapt over her own bench, swearing aloud a few times to make the cameramen’s footage unusable, before seizing Lawrence’s shoulder and marching her out the tent.

It was hard to make out what they were saying to each other. Ellie was gesticulating wildly while Lawrence ran a hand over her hair, coming out of her usual tight bun at the crown of her head. Tayce wasn’t the only one watching them - all the cameras and the contestants were too, peering through the clear plastic of the tent. Eventually, Lawrence nodded, wiped her eyes, and seemed to grow in height by three inches, while Ellie grinned at her, following her back into the tent.

Not entirely convinced, Tayce followed Lawrence to the tea tent as she left to make herself a fresh cup of tea.

“Lozza, you’re starting to worry me a bit now, and you know what you said, I’m horizontal. Tell me what’s going on, girl.”

Lawrence huffed, shaking her head in exasperation, but at herself.

“Ellie’s just … I’m just remembering what I can do, you know? I need to remember that just because my mind’s telling me that I can’t do something, it doesn’t mean that I actually can’t.”

“Yeah!” Tayce clapped her on the back. “That’s right! You’re Lawrence Chaney! You can do anything!”

Lawrence resumed the exasperated shake of her head, but now, she was grinning, and not her normal wry, comedic grin, but one that softened her eyes, some aura of serenity returning to her.

“I can’t put mental boundaries on myself,” she said, “because that’s what’s holding me back. It’s the fucking fences up here.” She turned to Tayce, tapping her forehead. “And I’m not gonna be told by someone I can’t do something, and let it rule my life, because I can.”

“What’s going on here? Pep talk, is it?” Bimini entered the tea tent, holding their own mug and Asttina’s, looking between them both curiously.

“Bimini, I have to ask,” Tayce said, unable to hold it in any longer, “what is this fashion today? I like it - I’m just wondering what the inspiration is.”

Bimini’s apron hid some of the outfit, but it consisted of a black suit and white shirt with braces, along with a monocle, for some reason.

“What, this old thing?” Bimini teased. “It’s a cross between Vivienne Westwood and Noel Fielding as The Hitcher in The Mighty Boosh. You remember that show, right? I was watching it on Netflix last week.”

“And you chose the day when it’s hotter than Satan’s sauna to wear that?” Lawrence blinked.

“Well I didn’t know it was gonna be this hot!” Bimini laughed. “Just my luck, innit?”

——

There were several disasters in the tent today. Not only was white chocolate notoriously hard to bake well into a cake anyway, but the heat melted a lot of them into mush, and meant that so many decorations were melting away into nothing.

Everyone had mediocre critiques from the judges, mainly because the heat had turned their creations into gloopy messes. Bimini’s dark chocolate sculpture and scroll decorations were dissolving into the cake, while Asttina’s caramel had crystallised yet again, her frustration evident from her folded arms and huffs. Ellie whose Showstoppers were always incredible, had her spun sugar disappear, leaving a stain on top of her cake.

When Tayce looked at Aurora, she’d barely noticed any of the critiques, gazing at her own bake, which got the best feedback by far. She might have put a protective bubble around hers, with how perfect it still looked at tasting.

This is so weird. She’s in her own little world.

“What’s the deal, Rory?” Tayce asked her as they filed out the tent, letting the judges deliberate as they waited outside. “You’re not melting in this heat!”

“Don’t know!” She shrugged, still smiling. “Just feel good about my bakes!”

Anyone leaving this week would be a loss, Tayce realised, watching everyone else separating into their pairs on this humid day, looking for shelter among the trees around the grounds. But she knew it wouldn’t be Aurora. In fact, she’d be surprised if she wasn’t getting a badge this week.

None of them wanted to go back into the tent. After the early evening shade and breeze started to cool them down outside, the balmy heat inside the tent felt too much. Everyone fanned themselves with their hands and baking trays until the judges came back in.

“We’ll make this as quick as possible for you to get out again,” Paul said, nodding to them, as they all started linking hands again. One long chain of bakers in a row, any link breaking now a loss to them all.

“I’ve got the great job this week of announcing who will be Star Baker.” Matt smiled sweetly at them all. “And this person was calm under the pressure cooker of the Signature, produced a perfect tiramisu cake, and didn’t bat an eyelid at white chocolate.”

Tayce felt Aurora’s nerves, radiating through her skin, on her right; while Asttina’s hand on her left was an iron grip, her feet jiggling against the stool.

“The Star Baker this week is Aurora! Congratulations!”

Aurora gave a squeak of joy, and Tayce grinned at her.

Well, she deserves it.

But when Aurora responded to her grin by looping an arm around her waist and giving her a peck on the lips - in front of the cameras, and the judges - Tayce kissed her back, their arrangement coming back to her in a rush along with every feeling she’d tried to contain.

The person to go home was still to be announced. Aurora turned to Lawrence, on her right, who was blanched and clenching her right hand so tightly her knuckles were white. Tayce reached behind Aurora to rub her back, and Lawrence held her breath.

They were all getting closer now. In fact, no one in this eight hadn’t grown very attached to someone else, Tayce realised with a jolt. Bimini, on Asttina’s left, looked grim, their lips pinched, letting Asttina lean into their arm. Veronica had let go of Tia to hold Lawrence’s right hand in both of hers.

“… Asttina. I’m so sorry.”

Tayce looked up to Asttina, but Asttina wasted no time in getting up and walking to Lawrence, pulling her into the tightest hug, her smile serene and no tears in her eyes.

“Well done,” she was saying, over and over, as Lawrence’s shoulders shook against her. “Well done. You’re doing amazing.”

One by one they all joined the hug, Bimini wiping their eyes with their thumb, the eight of them far too warm but far too close by now to let that matter. Asttina hugged them all briefly individually, leaving Bimini until last, before she left the tent for the exit interview.

Still no tears, peaceful and serene, blowing a kiss to them all.

——

“I thought she was gonna go to the end,” Bimini muttered, nursing their beer.

“I thought so too,” Aurora nodded.

“Says you, Miss Star Baker!” Bimini gave her an elbow in the ribs. “How the hell did you stay so calm, babes? I thought I was gonna explode with that heat. My mullet was catching fire.”

“Don’t know!” Aurora shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe I just found my groove!”

The three of them were alone. Tia and Veronica had already gone up to bed; Veronica citing her long trip back to Rochdale in the morning as an excuse for an early night. But no one had seen Lawrence or Ellie since the exit interviews.

“It feels really weird, everyone leaving,” Tayce said, looking around the room. “Remember when there were twelve of us here?”

“Yeah,” Bimini nodded.

“Far too many.”

“I agree,” Bimini chuckled. “Much better when you all leave so I can take the cake stand.”

Bimini didn’t stay up much later, standing and stretching before going up to their room, leaving Aurora with Tayce in the quiet of the evening, the windows open to encourage the slight breeze inside.

“I feel like I’m finally here,” Aurora said, running her hands through her hair. “Oh, god, I’m so glad I finally got a badge!”

“Congratulations, Aurora!” Tayce patted her knee, but Aurora’s stare was intent, searching her eyes. “What?”

“What made you leave this morning?”

The question took Tayce by surprise. Aurora’s smile was still there, but her eyes had narrowed slightly, her head cocked to the side. Why was Aurora asking about that? Surely she wouldn’t want to wake up next to Tayce, as they were only meant to be faking their flirting to the cameras.

“I just … I don’t know. Wanted to get ready for the day!”

Aurora’s stare was still intense, her eyes boring into Tayce’s as if waiting for her to flinch, and Tayce held her stare, even though she felt she should look away.

Eventually, Aurora leaned in to kiss Tayce, and Tayce responded with a chaste peck, but as Aurora pulled away again, she continued the same stare, a curious smile playing at her lips.

What’s she doing?

“We weren’t exactly doing anything that would make either of our mums upset. It was just nice, and I just wondered why you left me so early.”

But Tayce couldn’t deal with that sort of question right now. Not when her own mind wasn’t even sure of the answer.

This isn’t meant to be happening like this. It’s just for the cameras.

“I’m gonna get a bit of air.”

She stood without another word, making her way to the door of Norton Hall, stepping into the cooling evening. The sun still hadn’t completely set, the sky a pale lavender blue in the east, and the earlier clouds were parting, revealing a sprinkling of stars emerging.

Imagine living here permanently. When I’ve won this thing, and got my TV contract, maybe I’ll buy a place like this for the weekends.

She put her hand on the stone fence, imagining herself bringing out a yoga mat to stretch here in the evenings, with these stars and this calm and those two people on the grass before her -

Wait.

As she looked over the grounds, she could see two figures shadowed in the dying light of the day, laid on the grass at each others’ sides, and she knew it could only be Lawrence and Ellie, even without the purple of Lawrence’s hair, striking against Ellie’s blonde, intertwined in the grass.

So maybe she’d exaggerated to Aurora about what she’d seen last week. Maybe she hadn’t seen them actually sharing a kiss, more looking suspiciously close to. But this time she felt as if she was interrupting a moment. Soft laughter floated on the air towards Tayce, mostly Ellie’s, and she held her breath as she saw Lawrence roll to her side to meet her lips.

Oh, God, finally.

She found herself smiling. Deciding to leave them alone, she went back into the building, closing the door as quietly as she could

Asttina was right about this ‘waxing moon in Cancer’ stuff. Maybe I’ll actually download Co-Star.

——

SEVEN BAKERS REMAIN

[post-itpenny]

Your Nature

Continuing with the story.... Peregrine’s idea of help is to hit things.

Hard

Maggie, Juno, and Vespers took the news about Circe and Ash… surprisingly well. Or as well as they could.

In a way it delighted Maggie and Vespers that their respective families had always had a slight connection. It was just a shame the connection was something so rotten as Keir and his descendants.

That being said all three surprisingly agreed with Peregrine that simply trying to ignore them would not solve the problem. Maggie even making a point to use her vision to sort out at least ten possible future timelines.

All of them ending with Magpie failing. Each one worse than the last.

Magpie needed advice.

It was Maggie again to suggest who to turn to. However summoning the elder was not an easy feat and Magpie could not just leave the planet while her shield was up. So she followed the instructions given carefully. Writing a note and placing it down on a table under a dish cover, then purposefully forgetting it. Considering how exhausted she was this was surprisingly easy. Meaning when Magpie dragged herself down for breakfast the next morning she nearly jumped out of her skin to find Lethe sitting at her dining room table.

The elder held up a folded piece of paper, “got your note. How can I help?”

So the fairies made tea and Magpie told her story. Reluctantly recounting what the siblings did to her as a child and what she had done with the shield now.

Lethe was patient, not saying a word as she sipped her tea and listened. On occasion Magpie could catch a glimpse of gold eyes or sharp teeth in the shadow of the elder’s hood and not for the first time she wondered how they were related.

When she finished Magpie slumped back in her chair. She was so, so tired and the thought of wanting to go back to bed so soon after waking up made her tear up.

There was the softest touch of fabric, Magpie looking up to find Lethe reaching out with long gloved fingers to touch Magpie’s cheek. There came a soft pop like a static shock and at once Magpie felt more awake and energized than she had in well over a week.

“Better?” Lethe questioned.

Magpie gave a small nod, not quite sure what had happened.

Lethe stood up, beginning to slowly pace the room.

“All things need comforting from time to time. But all things from time to time also need advice. Do you want mine?”

“Yes please.”

Lethe looked at her, “you do know the obvious solution.”

“...Yes.”

“Then why have you not killed them already?”

Magpie frowned, “well I… I don’t…”

Lethe shook her head, “this is your first opposition as an elder, but even if you didn’t have the title you’re easily strong enough to be rid of them for good. You’re not a frightened and unprepared child anymore Magpie, you are far stronger than they could ever hope to be and you know it. Kier was a horrid thing and nearly every creature with an ounce of his lineage is just as twisted. They act entitled and are quick to bully others. Even the ones who don’t have Keir’s gifts.”

“They aren’t really your family.” Lethe continued. “The bloodlines are separated enough, don’t feel any obligation on that front to show leniency.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then why is it difficult?”

Magpie looked away in annoyance. “You know don’t you? That’s what you do isn’t it?”

Lethe regarded the younger deadlight for a moment before sighing. “It's a noble desire, wanting to find a better solution than death. However you and I both know they are here to antagonize and will challenge you if they can.”

“Why would they?”

“You’re hiding behind a wall Magpie, you’re taking the cowards way out and they know it.”

“It may be cowardly to them but I just…. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

Magpie gripped the hem of her skirt, biting her bottom lip. “I can’t make people behave how I want them to-“

“But you could.”

“But I won't.” Magpie insisted. “I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

Lethe sat down beside Magpie, taking her hand. “You’re far kinder than Blackwood…. kinder than I… but kindness for an elder has a fine line. You have an added responsibility to care for your family. You are not the elder of a kind thing, your dominion is creation.”

“But I think my job isn’t just to make things.” Magpie insisted, “that’s incredibly boring and nothing special really. Anyone can just make things.”

As if to prove her point Magpie snapped her fingers and a coffee mug appeared. “I made a mug, something that can be made in any factory or at the hands of any potter. Anyone can make anything with enough practice.”

The elder seemed almost stunned. Then, to Magpie’s great surprise-

Lethe started laughing.

It was a rather nice laugh, but the way the shadows seemed to warp at the sound made it a little unnerving. After a few minutes Lethe seemed to regain her composure. “You possess the power to will whatever you want into existence- planets, forests, cities, stars. You can make it and destroy it at a whim, that power literally at your fingertips. But you don’t see it as special?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is your job beyond just creation?”

Magpie smiled warmly, “to inspire others to create. It’s a beautiful and kind thing to do, something I’m truly proud of.”

Lethe watched Magpie as she spoke, the younger deadlight being sincere in what she said. “It is a kind thing, I could agree it is the most beautiful of your responsibilities… but think of the title more as who you are than just a job, you are your title as a rule. To create means to also destroy, is not destruction a creation in its own right? It is a part of your nature, it is the nature of one of our kind and very select few elders are exempt from this. You have little choice in this-“

“But-“

“And consider this,” Lethe insisted. “If they best you then one of them will take your place as an elder. It will put everything you hold dear at risk. You have a responsibility and that responsibility calls for you to get rid of them.”

Magpie glared at the ground, eyes glassy with tears that she held back. Lethe sighed again as she stood up to leave. “You’re very different Magpie, it’s a good thing. But you are the same as Blackwood in one thing- you both hate being told what’s good for you.”

Magpie rubbed her eyes, “no… but we both hate being told what to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peregrine had no problem with wanting to be rid of Ash and Circe. He had only not acted sooner in an attempt to respect his sister’s wishes.

But this was getting ridiculous, and if Magpie was too afraid to act then he would.

He growled at the thought of those two getting near his children, his granddaughter. And if he could do at least one thing to care for his family it was this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a small asteroid caught in the orbit of the Earth. It was barren and cold and Ash hated it. But he stayed because the view was worth it.

Not the planet, the little backwater ball that floated through such a boring solar system was tacky in his opinion. But the light shimmer that surrounded it was hilarious.

Behind him Circe giggled as the shimmer flickered again, it had been doing that more and more as the days passed.

“Little freak’s getting tired I bet.” Circe snickered.

Originally they came after hearing about what had happened to the old fool Blackwood because the idea of harassing Magpie sounded like fun. They were bored and Circe suggested the visit, maybe even coerce her into helping with what they had originally came together Kestral for so many years before. But the moment the shield over the planet went up a bigger plan took shape. Magpie was scared of them- as she should be in the sibling’s opinion- and it was honestly hilarious.

There was an aura, someone approaching and fast.

Ash snickered “well, well, well, look whose coming to-“

WHAM!

Peregrine sucker punched Ash, sending him flying back at least a hundred yards.

He turned to Circe, cracking his knuckles.

Circe rolled her eyes at her brother, barely dodging Peregrine’s swing at her. He hit a wall of rock instead, a jagged crack ripping through it in an explosion of dust.

At once a wave of power slammed into Peregrine’s mind. He felt as if something was trying to crush his very being. He couldn’t breathe, gasping for air as he struggled to stand and push past the feeling. He knew it wasn’t real, he could breathe, there was no weight. Peregrine imagined a wall around his head and pushed out.

The feeling left, Circe stumbling back as is something shoved her. Peregrine charged, slamming down his fist onto her.

The ground split, Circe sent plummeting down in an explosion of rock. Ash came running only for Peregrine to turn around and kick him in the chest, sending Ash flying back again.

Peregrine turned back around at the sound of Circe crawling back out of the ground. Only to find a hand pressed against his face.

Peregrine froze. Circe grinning as she watched the struggle in his eyes. Peregrine grimacing as he reached up to try and shove her hand away.

Then stopped.

[feargender]

like real people do

read here on ao3

Rita practically bounces through the spaceport, her sequined orange carry on bag banging against her calf with every other step while Juno drags both of their luggage along behind.

“Mars: what a dump! I’ve missed it,” she throws her arms wide, nearly clobbering a teenager heading in the opposite direction. Juno groans, but Peter links his arm with hers and leads them toward the shuttle that will carry them back to Hyperion City.

“Oh yeah, you two go ahead, I don’t need a hand or anything,” Juno says to the backs of their heads.

“I did offer...” Peter begins to say, but then realizes Juno has already committed to being annoyed and leaves it be. He’s been grumpy since Neptune, most likely about returning to Mars after so long away.

“Cheer up, Mistah Steel! I’m seeing my mom tomorrow,” Rita informs him as they step onto the shuttle with the rest of the tired commuters. Juno slouches against the support rail as the shuttle jerks into motion, zipping over the burnt red sands toward the glistening Dome of Hyperion in the distance. He grabs Rita’s arm to steady her when the sudden momentum sends her tripping over his shoes.

“My mom’s dead,” he grumbles, gazing into the middle distance.

When Rita looks to Peter for help, he only shrugs. “I never knew my mother.” She narrows her eyes and huffs, looking out over the face of their mostly dead planet with a dull glare.

“Go-lly, Mistah Steel, it’s lunch, not a funeral,” Rita bumps her hip against Juno’s as they walk up the street toward the small diner Rita’s mother had picked for lunch. As soon as they arrived at the hotel the previous evening, Rita had been all too happy to call her mother and tell her that she’d be bringing two guests on their lunch date. All while Juno had made increasingly violent hand gestures in her direction. Peter, as ever, only walks along serenely, as if he’d rather be absolutely nowhere else than shuffling down the crowded sidewalk at half past noon on a Wednesday. It’s a skill Juno is nowhere near possessing, and what makes Peter such a good thief: he is almost incapable of not belonging. If meeting Rita’s mother is not how he’d like to spend one of his only free days planetside, it’s impossible to tell.

He squeezes Juno’s fingers where their hands are clasped between them and Juno smiles weakly at Rita. “Sorry,” he says, “thanks for… inviting us.” Rita grins at him.

“Aw, you’re welcome, Mistah Steel. Anyway, my ma’s been wanting to meet you forever. I told her you’re a real prickly type and that it would never happen, but then I was thinkin’, everyone deserves to know a great mom, even if it isn’t your own great mom, and yours wasn’t all that great, so it would probably be nice to bring you along,” she explains, “And you, too, Mistah Glass!” It’s added almost as an afterthought. “You’re pretty good at making Mistah Steel less prickly.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m glad you think so,” Peter replies, and Juno scoffs. Nothing could make him less prickly, and they all know it.

A few moments later they swing into The Upper Crust, a small sandwich shop crammed between two large office buildings. At this time of day, it’s nearly at capacity, but a woman who looks exactly what Juno imagines Rita will in thirty or so years waves from a small booth wedged up against the window facing the street. Juno is grateful, claustrophobia already making his hairline bead with sweat. He slides into the booth first, across from Rita’s mother and Peter follows.

Rita leans in and hugs her mother tightly, while her mother says things about how nice she looks and how long it’s been. They do that for so long, exchanging greetings and pleasantries, that Juno gets a tad uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. Peter rests a hand on his leg, not looking at him, and smiles winningly when they pull apart and Rita’s mother looks at them both.

“Ma, this is Juno Steel and Rex Glass! Mistah Steel, Mistah Glass, this is my mom, Delilah!” Rita says, finally falling into the booth as they all shake hands.

Delilah holds onto Juno’s hand for a beat, regarding him closely. Juno tries not to feel self-conscious, knowing that there isn’t much to criticize. He’s wearing a clean shirt and a pair of shiny dangling earrings, which may have been obtained honestly, as they came from one of Peter’s many coat pockets, but that isn’t obvious. He’s traded in his old dusty tan trench coat for a black one with a better fit and higher thread count, to look less like a “private eye sore” as Peter had so gently put it. He doesn’t even have any visible bruises, which is impressive itself. He can scarcely go a week without someone socking him in the jaw.

“Nice to meet you,” she finally says, letting him go. He feels like he passed some sort of secret test, because then she smiles. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Detective.”

Juno sees Rita blushing out of the corner of his eye, and silently prays that she hasn’t heard too much, as Rita says, “He’s not a private investigator anymore, Ma.” Juno cuts his gaze to Rita in time to see her snap her teeth together. Delilah knows that her daughter has been spending a great deal of time off planet, obviously, but it’s clear that Rita has not come up with a lie strong enough to explain this away, yet.

Luckily, Peter cuts in. “He consults on cases with Dark Matters now. I’m afraid that’s why Juno and Rita have been spending so much time away from home,” he says. He dives deep into a pocket and draws out a badge, the same one Juno saw when they first met. He winces internally at the sight, using the same alias and story on a planet where that particular cover has already been blown is… risky. Delilah takes the badge and examines it, though Juno can tell by her expression that she wouldn’t know how to determine it as false or not. She’s merely curious: Dark Matters is something of a novelty. And if she’s anything at all like Rita, she loves novelty.

But then she hands the badge back and rounds on Rita, who is suddenly very investing in the menu. “That sounds awfully dangerous,” Delilah says, expression sharp on Rita, who looks up sheepishly.

“I was gonna tell you! But, I mean, it’s Dark Matters. Everything is classified and I didn’t know how much I could say and the… comms… wasn’t secure!” Rita flounders, but Peter only nods seriously.

“It is a very tight lipped operation, Mrs. Delilah.” Juno finds himself nodding gravely also, drawn into Peter’s rouse easily.

“Well, I suppose it can’t be worse than running down dark alleys around here,” Delilah allows, and Juno snorts, nodding.

“I never ran down the dark alleys, Ma, that’s all Mistah Steel. Like in this stream I was watching the other day, a real detective noir thing about this femme fatale Anastasia Laurel Pierce,” and then Rita’s off, and Delilah listens like a woman who has had decades of experience in parsing Rita’s stories. Juno leans back in his seat, letting Rita’s voice wash over him like background noise, looking at Peter. He has his chin in his hand and seems to be listening also, but glances over when he feels Juno’s eye on him and smiles.

Eventually the waiter makes their way over and apologizes for the wait, before disappearing again for almost twenty minutes to collect their drinks, and then comes back to apologize again and take their order. Rita’s mother taps her toe a bit impatiently at this, but turns to Juno. For a while he had gone by mostly unnoticed, Rita and Peter talking enough for the three of them. Not that Juno is normally soft spoken; if he were, he might have gotten less of his teeth knocked out of his head. As it is, approximately a third of them are implants.

However, it seems that his turn to speak has arrived. “Have you lived in Hyperion City your entire life, Mr. Steel?” she asks politely, and Juno tenses despite himself. It’s a simple question, but thinking about Hyperion City at all tends to make his head hurt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he manages.

“What part are you from?” she presses, and Juno winces before saying, “Old Town.”

Thankfully, the food comes after that and Peter redirects the conversation around to some completely fabricated story about Ancient Martian ruins, because Peter’s only real story about Ancient Martian ruins isn’t fit for the lunch table.

Juno learns that Rita was initially going to be a computer scientist, and then a special effects makeup artist, and then an opera singer. After realizing she couldn’t sing at all, she started filling out random ads in the local work sites until she ended up interviewing with some police detective.

“I was not drunk at that interview,” Juno insists over the rim of his drink glass.

“You were! You wandered around rambling nonsense for twenty minutes, said you’d give me the job, then nearly fell over. I drove you home, Mistah Steel. Don’t you remember?” Rita says, giggling.

“If he was that drunk, then likely not,” Peter says, nudging Juno with his elbow. Even Delilah is laughing, now, and Juno can’t help but crack a small smile.

“Yeah, well, I had just been discharged from the HCPD, I wasn’t feeling so great,” Juno allows.

By the time the check arrives, most of the lunch rush has cleared out. Delilah leaves first, hugging Rita tightly before turning on Juno and pulling him into a hug of his own. He tenses up from his toes to his eyebrows, but doesn’t struggle, hovering his arms awkwardly about an inch above her back until she releases him. Peter does better with his turn, patting her back and wishing her well. Once she’s gone, Rita turns on him with a grin.

“That went real well, Mistah Steel,” she says, wrapping her hands around his arm. “You didn’t even say anything awful.”

“Yeah, well,” Juno says, “I like to save saying awful things for the second meeting.”

“No, you don’t,” Peter says, shrugging into his coat.

“No, I don’t,” Juno agrees.

“Thank you for trying, boss. I think she liked you,” Rita continues as they exit out of the building.

“I liked her, too,” Juno says, surprised at the fact that it’s the truth. It isn’t just his mother that he doesn’t like. Sarah Steel had managed to poison her entire species, rendering Juno nearly incapable of tolerating any mothers at all. But he can tell that Delilah is good to Rita, and that’s enough for him.

At the intersection before the hotel, Rita departs for a shopping trip, leaving Peter and Juno alone. “You did well, Juno,” Peter remarks at the crosswalk, taking his hand again.

“So did you, Agent Glass,” Juno says, arching the eyebrow not covered by his eyepatch.

“I spent a lot of time cultivating that persona, seems a shame to let it go to waste. Especially if it keeps Rita out of trouble,” Peter says dismissively.

“Her mom doesn’t exactly seem the type to support a life of intergalactic crime,” Juno agrees.

“We can’t all be police officers,” Peter replies mournfully, giving Juno a private smile as they enter the hotel lobby.

“But we can all impersonate police officers,” Juno says, and is rewarded with Peter’s full laugh.

They enter the transparent elevator, and to avoid looking at the rapidly retreating floor beneath him, Juno looks out at the Dome-tinged sky, and the barely visible red sand beyond, and realizes that he didn’t really miss the Martian view at all. The entirety of Hyperion City’s dirty laundry spreading out below him, and he’s content to leave it there to air out itself. Someone else in his apartment, his office, his car (if it hadn’t been hauled off to the dump immediately). And they can keep it. He’s happy to be so far above it now.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Juno grunts, leaning his back against Peter to avoid leaning against the fragile feeling glass.

Peter gives him a funny sort of smile, but says only, “Me, too.”