stands_for_hope | At Home with Clark and Jim

Entry tags:

house of am

At Home with Clark and Jim

[continued from here]

They'd fallen into a routine pretty easily.

Clark had managed to write up something about the church bust without incriminating either of them, which meant that his Perry had been pleased enough with his work for the day and had only yelled at him for five minutes about his failure to show up in the office the whole day. Lois had ribbed him a little, which had been remarked upon as she usually gave the new guy hell if he did anything remotely out of the line, and then she'd ribbed him a lot. He hadn't minded too terribly much since he had visited her afterwards at her apartment and she'd done plenty of kissing to make it better.

With a second person in the apartment, he'd started to fix it up a little, bringing home new linens, keeping the fridge stocked more regularly, and he'd even managed to find a new couch for them through a very kindly older woman and Craigslist.

True to his word, he'd gotten some rudimentary identification for Jim and he walked through the door with a spring in his step, closing the door behind him and plopping it down on the kitchen table with a smile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That was my dad's favorite," he admitted with a little smile.

"Mom can't stand it but she had a recipe she'd make up in the old ice cream maker we had."

"I... think I've tasted something like it. Can't really remember. But it tastes familiar." But next came the mango. He raised his eyebrows at the shift in flavour. "Oh."

He laughed a little.

"I got to try the real thing on a trip down to the Caribbean," he explained, "but the ice cream's my favorite. Out in Hawaii, they wrap it in this rice dough, though, and that's probably my favorite."

"Rice dough?" That was interesting. He asked it while taking half a spoonful of the chocolate. He knew what chocolate was supposed to taste like, and the chocolate did live up to it.

"It's pretty good. I'll have to pick some up from the asian grocery sometime. Not too sweet, and nice and chewy."

He took a spoon or two of the mango mixed with the vanilla.

Jim nodded, then asked, after a moment's thought, "What's curry?" After all, that had been mentioned, too, and he wondered if it was a food he'd like.

Clark was a little surprised by the question, but all the pieces go together when he remembers his mother's comment from the phonecall.

He wasn't trying to listen in, but it's a little too easy for him to have missed it.

"It's a kind of dish that originated in India, using certain spices. I learned how to cook it while I was there for a while and it's become something of a favorite since then. I was actually figuring I'd make some later this week."

"What does it taste like?" Spices. He didn't know if he liked them yet. So far, the food had been rather tame, except for Mexican food which had a heat that didn't bother him, really, but did make things a touch more spice than he seemed to be used to.

He spread his hands.

"It pretty much tastes like curry. There's nothing else quite like it. I like mine pretty hot, but I usually make it mild for Ma when I cook it, so you don't have to worry if you're not a fan of heat."

He also usually made his vegetarian, but that was a different discussion for a different day.

He nodded just slightly. "I think if I'm going to try it, I'll try it mild. I'm not sure about heat. I didn't mind the salsa, but it may be something to accustom myself to." The flavour had been good, even if the heat had been something of a surprise.

"Mild is just as good as hot," Clark said with another scoop of mixed mango-vanilla ice cream.

"If it tells you anything, you can find sweets and even ice creams with 'curry' as one of the flavors. It's more a sort of taste than anything else."

"A flavour to itself." He wasn't sure what it was. But he hadn't been sure of tacos. He was familiar with spaghetti, but when it came down to it, he was a meat-and-potatoes person, it seemed. Still, the only thing that could hurt if tried was just a little burn on his tongue, he thought.

"You'll get a chance to try it tomorrow. The rest of the dish is pretty basic. Just some vegetables over rice."

That got a nod. "That sounds... safe. Vegetables and rice." In fact, he liked the idea. Though he thought he would like a little meat on the side, maybe, but that was his fondness for protein sneaking through.

Clark doesn't make much of an issue of it most of the time, but after some traveling and some learning, he's become something of a vegetarian. Something of one, a vegetarian in the Buddhist model: he'll accept any food given to him, enjoy it as he should, but he won't make food that has meat in it. He prefers not to kill any creature for his meals. He hasn't mentioned, mostly because it's something of an odd concept and Jim has enough on his proverbial plate and, of course, it doesn't really conflict. But Jim might notice it eventually once they're sharing the cooking more.

"It's a common dish where it came from. I know some others too. I... traveled a bit before ending up here."

With a bit of wryness to his smile, Jim answered, "I'd gathered. But with your abilities, you probably made it... quick." A fast trip from one place to another, it'd make a trip to see the world quick and easy. He didn't doubt he'd traveled the world, too, but he didn't want to think too closely about those memories just in case they would take it as a hint to come back.

"I was trying to find my parents," he admitted, "or... something. Make sense of who and what I was. Find a place."

He couldn't help chuckling a little.

"It kind of found me, I guess."

Jim's voice was quiet when he spoke again. "I think I know what that's like."

Out of everything he'd expected that day at the bus stop, this wasn't it. He felt comfortable around Clark, had even been accepted by Clark's mother. When he went out to pick things up and it was time to go back, he actually thought of the apartment as home.

Clark smiled at that before standing up, bowl in hand. He heard what Jim was saying, but he didn't want to say anything. The appreciation was clear enough.

"I've gotta get some research done for my column, but feel free to have your way with the rest of them. Just remember to put them back in the freezer."

He walked over to his desk and plopped down into his chair.

"I'll be up early so drag me over if you need anything to get ready for the job search."

"I have a newspaper to read," Jim reminded, a hint of a smile on his face. What he did do was go ahead and put away the ice creams, though, for the sake of keeping them good for later consumption. He had a scoop of strawberry to eat his way through, and that was what he did while Clark worked.

Some parts of the news were more interesting than others. Metropolis was being reconstructed, and New York was still being put together. Reports of the destruction of SHIELD and the exposure of Hydra were still prevalent, and he read them with a conscious detachment. No matter that they found out Hydra through SHIELD. There were still more locations throughout the world. Even if he couldn't remember them, he was still sure of that.

But then came the more interesting stories, including Clark's. The kind about people. About normal life. Things he definitely didn't remember but needed to know about more urgently than the state of politics following the exposure.

He didn't realise that he was milking out the ice cream, eating it slowly for the sake of enjoyment, as he went. But at last, he was at the classified section, looking carefully through the help wanted ads.

Clark doesn't mean to make the first noise in what seems like ages in the apartment, but the laptop has a little hinge at the back and a clasp at the front and it clicked as he shut it for the night.

"I'm gonna head to bed. Lots to do tomorrow. Don't forget to check the kitchen before you head out, though."

Because there will be authentic New York bagels and cream cheese waiting for him to send him off properly.

...you can take the boy off the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the boy. Work should always start with a good breakfast.

"I will. ...Goodnight, Clark." He still had ads to look through, and he'd pencil-circled a few. With any luck, he'd find himself employment, so long as he could find the bravery to be on the phone.

Before long, with the classified ad section folded backward on the table for convenience, he went to bed, himself. He'd need to be rested for the next day's travel. Probably some long walking, time spent on the bus. Just like old times.

The next morning, he'd find Clark already on the way to work and a fine selection of perfect, NYC bagels with only slightly-softened cream cheese sitting on the table.

Unexpected. And savored. He ate, each bite taking him to good places in his memories - places he couldn't have even thought of before - and it gave him a good mindset for when he headed out to check on job after job, going to the addresses before he had to face the phone. The phone put him much more on edge than meeting face to face, for reasons he couldn't put a name to.

With just a few easily-believed lies about papers getting destroyed, he had a construction job by two in the afternoon, ready to start the next day. When he got back to the apartment, he had a temporary badge with his name on it, and the intention to have some ice cream in celebration.

When he gets in, there's two tickets sitting on the table for the Mammoths vs Cyclones game, as well as a small treasure trove of Cyclones gear: there's a hat, a rumpled jersey, two penants, and a foam finger. There's also a note.

Home in a couple of hours; checking out a scoop. Lombard had this sitting around in his office. He practically begged me to take it. Set up the rice maker?

And in the kitchen, there is a small box with a japanese elephant logo that apparently contains a ricemaker with a bag of rice sitting beside it.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject