Chapter Text
“Tell me it isn’t true!” A customs bursts into the Queen Anne confectionery. “Please tell me for the love of someone it isn’t true!”
“What’re you talking about?” Roach asks as Stede watches from where he’s restocking pastries. “Who’s spreading lies about us?”
“Everyone!” The customer explains. “First it was the butcher, then the farmer’s market. Are you next? Please say no! No one makes marmalade half as good as yours!”
“Well you can officially put those rumors to rest! We’re not going anywhere!” Roach almost yells before turning to Stede. “Get this poor man a drink. Poor thing looks like he might pass out.”
“Right.” Stede walks to the sink and pours some tap water and takes it to the customer. “Don’t you worry. This place isn’t going anywhere.”, then grabs something off the shelf. “Here. Try an orange glaze cupcake. Sure to lift your spirits in no time.”
The young man lifts the pastry and takes a small nibble, and that’s enough to warrant a small moan. “Mmmmm.”
“Oh Stede?” Roach says behind him, making Stede turn. “Give him a jar of marmalade, would you?”
Stede rushes over to where the jars are sitting, as the young man comes back to the register, asking Roach,
“Is he still single?”
“You’d think no, but all he cares about is this shop!” Roach replies with a laugh as he takes the customer’s money. “Thank you very much.”
As he leaves, Stede comes out of the back, carrying a tray of more candies, so Roach demands.
“Why must you always do that?”
“Do what?” Stede asks offhandedly, well aware of what.
“We get so many nice people coming in here! You should try and take one out sometime!” Roach exclaims.
“I would, but I’ve got to get back to work.” Stede replies as he walks right past to reach the kitchen.
“Stede!” Roach whines, making him turn around. “You don’t know what it’s like! Is it truly so wrong for a friend to want another friend to be happy? You deserve to have someone to go home to.”
“Someone to take care of.” Stede says it at the same time as Roach, but Roach isn’t fazed.
“See? You agree! You live in the kitchen and only go home when I beg you to. You can’t fall in love with candy. You can’t make a family with kitchen equipment!”
“Oh come off it, Roach!” Stede whines. “And why are you so invested in my love life anyway?”
He throws a rag at him, then storms off, “Why can’t anyone just leave me alone. Fuck.”
Roach sighs, but says nothing.
“Now how are we looking today?” Stede asks Lucius, who doesn’t meet his eyes as he says.
“The worst we’ve ever been. We have to sell.”
“What?” Stede screeches. “We can’t do that! We’ve never done that!”
“There was a time when all we did was work. Now we’re all growing up and getting out own lives. Not as much time to work anymore.”
“Nononono! Please, let me see if I can’t think of something.” Stede begs.
“I’ve already met someone who would pay handsomely for this place.”
“What? Who?” Stede demands.
“Condiments.” The man tells Stede and Lucius they’re seated at a table. “We all love American condiments. Walk into any supermarket, American section all full of condiments. We’ve got several stores doing that already, and now we’re putting our focus elsewhere.”
A server comes out with a tray loaded with desserts as the man continues,
“What I’m offering you is a chance for your place to become a mini mart for all of the average Kiwi’s condiment needs. I’ll even take you on as the ones running it!”
Stede looks to the server and points at one of the desserts set in front of him, “You must tell me what this is.”
The server tells him smoothly, “That is Chef Hornigold’s squiggle slice.”, as Stede takes his fork to cut into it and sample a taste. “It’s a brownie with custard powder icing and topped with honeycomb chocolate. A personal favorite of mine as well as Chef’s.”
Stede turns to Lucius, “You must try this.”, and the boy does after a moment.
“The doctor is in.”
“No, not quite, actually.” Stede finds himself saying. “Something isn’t quite there.”
Then he turns back to their potential buyer. “Sir, our confectionery has been with us since we all moved back to New Zealand. Our entire livelihoods are there. Surely you can understand why we can’t just up and sell?”
“Give us some more time to think on it?” Lucius says to placate him.
“You have one month.” The man says in resignation. “And don’t go thinking you’re anything special. Confectioneries come and go, yours will be no different.”
“Scuse me?” Stede says to the server. “I’d like to wrap this up to go.”
When he comes back to the shop, he takes the squiggle slice out of the to go box, sets it on a plate, and cuts into it.
He inspects it from every angle, then finally brings it to his mouth and lets the taste coat his tongue.
Then he smirks, “I knew it!”
Stede comes back to the restaurant the next day, walking right through the dining room and into the kitchen.
“Hello.” Stede says to the first person he sees. “Could I ask to be pointed to your pastry chef, Edward Teach?”
The chef points to the back, and Stede sighs gratefully as he goes where indicated.
“Hornigold, tēnā koa!” he hears upon entering. “"Kare e taea te keke marena 7-tiera mo te tangata kotahi! Me timata ahau ki te mahi inaianei ki te hiahia ahau ki te patu i te tere tina i roto i te iti iho i te 2 haora! He aha koe i korero mai ai ki ahau inaianei? Ka oati ahau ki te Atua, ki te mahia ano e koe tenei ki ahau, kei te whakamahi ahau i te keke i hokona mai i te toa!. Kare au e aro!”
Then the silver haired man hangs up angrily. “Alright everyone, listen up!” he claps his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“We’re doing a light sponge with strawberry filling.” He points as he speaks, “You on batter, you on filling. Let’s get to it.”
When someone tries to speak, Teach snaps, “No questions. Now!”
Then upon turning and seeing Stede standing there, he just keeps talking,
“Perfect. Right when I need you. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. And you’re not young. I asked for someone younger and fresh out of pastry school for my intern.”
Stede tries to straighten it out, “Oh no I’m not younger--”
“Clearly!” Teach rolls his eyes. “Just tell me your name.”
“Stede, but I--”
“Fine. Stede, take this.” Teach picks up an apron and throws it at him. “Put that on. You can temper chocolate, I hope?”
“Of course!” Stede says indignantly, but Teach is already walking away and gesturing for him to follow.
He grabs some gloves and slides them on. “I don’t know how you were taught how to do it, and I don’t care. Long as you’re in my kitchen, you’re doing it my way. I don’t have time to hold your hand and watch your every move.”
Teach dips a finger into the bowl of melted chocolate, then after a moment, nods. “Good as it’s going to get.”
To Stede, “Please tell me you understand why we have to do this. Why tempering chocolate is so vital.”
“Yes, I’m well aware, but--”
“Good, then I’ll just do this.” Teach pours the melted chocolate onto the slab. “This is to get the right sheen for our desserts. Then you just swoop, swoop, swoop. Easy enough for you?”
Stede just nods and takes the scraper, with near perfect precision.
“So you really know your stuff.” Teach comments.
“You have to swoop wherever it wants to swoop.” Stede says.
“Wherever it wants to swoop?” Teach repeats, sure he hadn’t heard right, when the phone rings.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m losing the rat race to chocolate.” Stede laments as Teach reaches the phone.
Trach looks at him for another moment, then picks up the phone.
“Edward Teach.
Yes.
No, I don’t have a problem with that at all.
Thank you for calling me.”
Teach hangs up, then marches right over to where Stede’s still tempering.
“My intern just called to tell me they’re going to be late. Who the fuck are you?”
“I never claimed to be an intern, for one. And two, I’m Stede Bonnet. I run a confectionery. I ate one of your sweets last night. Your squiggle slice?”
Teach is intrigued enough to ask, “Oh did you?”
“You were trying to use manuka honey, weren’t you?”
Teach’s eyes light up, “You know about it?”
Stede stops tempering to come back around the counter, “Manuka honey from the manuka flower, grown all over New Zealand and harvested raw. But the oldest seller is hard to come by.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Teach crosses his arms. “My kitchen, my recipes, my ingredients. You don’t get to touch them.”
“Now that is a shame.” Stede says, disappointed. “Because we have an open sharing policy at our place.”
“And that would be where, exactly?”
“Downtown Auckland. And since you never asked, I’m just going to tell you. The honeycomb candy needs golden syrup. The honey’s taking away from what people eat squiggle slices for. That’s your biggest issue.”
“I think not.” Teach gets up in his face. “My biggest issue is I’m still talking to some stuck-up pansy candy store owner from Auckland when I’ve yet to get started on a last minute wedding cake! Fuck off!”
Then just to make his point, he stops, “Golden syrup would make it too sweet!”
“Oh no, believe me.” Stede takes off the apron and throws it aside. “If you’re making it, you might as well not put sugar in it at all!”
Then he leaves in a huff. “Good day!”