fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

Petra was, she would readily admit, not what one would call a great cook. She could do the basics and maybe even get a little creative from time to time, and she could catch and clean a fish and cook it over the campfire like a pro, but she wasn't about to start whipping out five-course gourmet meals. But she was pretty confident in her ability to follow directions, and she'd been poking around on the internet earlier when she found the perfect recipe for the club fair tomorrow: cupcakes. And not just any cupcakes, but rainbow cupcakes. They were so cute, so cheerful, so on-theme, so delicious!

Sure, there were a lot of fiddly steps involved in making the layers come out right, but as long as she took her time and read through carefully, and didn't freak out when some of the yellow batter somehow got in her hair, it was all good. She even made the frosting, although she was tempted to just use Funfetti. Also, her apron was super cute, if she did say so herself.

((Open common room is open! But Petra'll swat your hand with a spatula if you try to take one of her cupcakes. They're for tomorrow.

Well. Maybe if you're really nice she'll let you sample one for quality control.))

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"..." Scully paused, contemplating sandpaper, then moving on very fast. "Not what I expected."

"Yeah, well, that's Freddie for you." And dammit, she did not just totally sound slightly affectionate. Absolutely not. Didn't happen. Not at all.

Maybe she should just go hide in the woods and finger paint until the last of last weekend's crazy finally wears off.

"Your technical guy on the show is likely to go on about sandpaper?" Scully asked, noting the affection but not thinking much about it. Although it did make her smile thinking of Mulder. "Mulder is into aliens."

Sam nodded, glad for an out on continuing to talk about Freddie. "My best friend's into Bigfoot. And her brother swears by the existence of beave-coons."

"What is a beave-coon?" Scully wondered. "Is that like a jackelope? And we visited Oregon once when Mulder suspected lumberjacks were eaten by Bigfoot. Or aliens. He would've been happy with either."

"Half beaver, half racoon," Sam said. "Spencer says he saw one when he was little, but no one else's ever even heard of 'em."

"I wouldn't rule them out, given we have blue deer here, but until he gets photos, I'd still doubt him." Scully took another bite of mac'n'cheese, shaking her head. "Although photos can be faked well."

"Yeah, no one's even manged to photograph Bigfoot. And he's gotta be way bigger than a beave-coon."

"And the Jersey Devil just turned out to be a pair of wild cannibals."

Scully was still smug about that. Urban legend her ass, Mulder.

"Cannibals are cool."

No, Sam, they're actually really not.

Scully shuddered. "Not if you have to look at the remains of their meals they're not." Hurray for mac'n'cheese. Nothing animal died for this meal, she could keep eating it.

"Gross," Sam said. With a broad grin. She was not your average teenage girl. "Like, pictures and stuff?"

Scully raised an eyebrow, then said dryly, "Like, the actual human remains inside the cannibal, and stuff. I did the autopsy." She looked down at herself, and grimaced. "When I was older."

"You cut up dead people?" Sam looked impressed. "Even my uncle Carmine doesn't do that." Wait a minute. "When you were what now?"

Scully had given up keeping this secret when anything intersected with her past, but it was still awkward to explain. "I was a 36-year-old FBI Agent. A Medical Examiner, actually. Magic wish, made by my partner. Poof, I'm fifteen." She made a face. "He's looking for a solution, I'm trying to avoid people we put in jail or otherwise pissed off." There. That was fairly succinct.

"Dude, you're secretly old?"

Sam was clearly scandalized.

"I know. Well, it's not much of a secret now," Scully clarified. "Although maybe I should wear a tag that reads, 'I graduated from high school with your mom the first time'."

"You're assuming my mom graduated high school."

"True. 'I snuck cigarettes with your mom'?" Scully offered, finishing up her mac'n'cheese. "Although maybe your mom doesn't smoke."

"Not since she dated that doctor. You smoke?"

"I did. Mostly to get one over on my dad." Scully shook her head. "I gave it up after high school, and med school would have cured me if I hadn't." Ugly diseased lungs. Gah.

"There are way better ways to piss off your parents than smoking," Sam decided.

"Yes," Scully said definitely. "Like joining the FBI."

"I was thinking more like telling your mom's boyfriend she got hit by a bus."

Scully snorted, and said, "I'm assuming neither one took that well?"

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