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Sole Slice of Life

Summary:

Sole wants that Perfectly Preserved Pie.

Notes:

Inspired by an anonymous ask. Thanks, Nonny!

Work Text:

Sole pressed her nose to the glass of the Port-a-Diner. A single slice of pie, pristine and tempting, sat on the top shelf. She couldn’t believe it.

“Nick,” she said, “I’ve gotta have that pie.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You sure about that? I wouldn't trust something that looks that good after two hundred years.”

“You look good, and I trust you.”

“I’m not a slice of pie—aw, forget it.”

“You can hack this thing for me, right?”

“I can give it a shot, but don’t expect me to hold your hair back when that garbage turns your stomach.”

“Have I ever?”

He rolled his eyes. He crouched down and began fiddling with the mechanism.

“You know, the easier way to do this would be to just break the glass,” he said.

She knelt behind him, wrapping her arms about his middle and letting her chin rest on his shoulder.

“Yeah, but then some shards might get in the pie,” she said, “and I know you wouldn’t let that happen to the world’s most perfect dessert.”

“Never was much of a pie fan,” he said. “Not that I had anything against it, it was just hard to find a place that didn’t let the crust get soggy.”

“Really? I figured you would have been. Unless donuts were more your thing.”

He smirked.

“There was this one sandwich joint that did it right. Had the best key-lime pie you’ve ever tasted. You know the one? I think it used to be by the Old Corner Bookstore.”

“Was that the place that had the really good Reubens? Where they would—”

“Toast the bread on both sides,” he finished for her.

She slapped his arm.

“That’s the one! Goodness, do you think we might have ever been there at the same time?”

He shrugged.

“Eh, who can say. Boy, what I wouldn’t give for another one of those.”

His look of amused concentration faded. Now he just looked distant and thoughtful. A hint of sadness colored his eyes.

Sole regretted bringing it up. She never could tell which memories would cheer him up and which ones would bring him down. She squeezed his shoulders and got to her feet.

“Well—who needs that nasty old pie anyway? It couldn’t ever be as good as that key-lime, and that’s a fact. What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you had to have it.”

“Now that I think it through, another round of food poisoning doesn’t sound very appealing. And with you around, I’ve got all the sweetness I need.”

He rose to his feet, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled.

He looped his arm through hers and gave her a peck on the cheek. Arm in arm, they left the ruined diner behind.

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