Work Text:
Penny’s five episodes deep into her Sailor Lunala binge session, only her Veevees and her instant ramen for company, when there’s a knock on the door.
“Pennyyyy, can I come in? I brought you some food!”
At the sound of Juliana’s voice, Penny’s Sylveon abandons her lap to yowl at the door, begging for Juli to enter. Traitor, Penny thinks, but she can’t blame Sylveon. Penny’s just as excited to hear her girlfriend’s voice.
“Come in,” she calls out, pausing her episode just before the villain of the week debuts. “And watch out for Sylveon, she’s definitely going to—“
Juliana screams from the entryway, lifting some sort of casserole dish over her head. The smell is immaculate.
“—Pounce. What is that? It smells like…”
Like holidays with her and Peonia and mom and dad, as he unveils the Wellington with a flair. Her stomach’s growling already.
“Like Slowpoke Wellington? Yeah, I asked Arven to help me make some, and we think it came out pretty good. Just, uh… don’t come by my dorm for a day or two. We sort of mucked things up.”
Penny didn’t even want to imagine the mess, though somehow she got the feeling it’d have been worse if she had attempted to make Wellington. “How’d you even know…?”
Juliana sets the Wellington down on the counter, bats away Penny’s Flareon and Umbreon begging like they’d never eaten in their life. “You don’t remember? You mentioned your old man makes it over the holidays the first time we went picnicking together, Pen-Pen. Now c’mere, before your beasts get it first.”
Penny feels like she could cry, between the smell of real food and being listened to so closely. She spins around in her chair, using the movement for the momentum she needs to stand and slump her way to the kitchen counter. It could use a cleaning, she notes, but Juli doesn’t seem to care, already carving up a slice and digging a clean plate out of Penny’s drawers.
“Juli, what’d I even do to deserve this?” There’s no way she’d have thought to do something as kind as this; it’s always Juliana showing her care.
“Penny, everyone deserves better food than instant ramen. And I love you. Now eat, before it gets cold,” Juliana insists, pushing Penny a slice of Slowpoke tail inside flaky crust and pairing it with a forehead kiss. Penny picks up her fork, brings a bite to her lips, chews slowly.
“Well? How’s it taste? It’s our first time making it, Arven and I, so it might not be perfect, but…”
It tastes like butter and marbled fat, like savory fireworks flaking and melting in her mouth, and if she’s being completely honest, like it could go a bit easier on the salt. But more than anything…
“It tastes like home,” Penny mumbles through a mouthful, a tear rolling down her cheek. How lucky she is, to be loved.