Private Sea Salt

[Sarge Potteiger]

Coruscant
Jade Residence
Romi Jade
​

Opening the oven door was, of course, the best part. It wasn't the blast of heat that hit you in the face; that was quite bothersome. Instead, all the smells that came with baking that had filtered into the kitchen were finally released, exploding into being like a sprouting flower in fast forward. "Delicious," he muttered, slipping the second mitt onto his hand as he reached in. The tray within was gingerly grasped and pulled out to be set on the counter atop a small Atrisian inspired wood trivet so it could cool.

It wouldn't do to have someone burning their mouth on them after all.

Piano, piped in through the kitchen speaker, provided a lovely backdrop. Much better than the beep and screech of passing speeders outside, despite the dense soundproofing that went into Coruscanti spires. These Jedi did love their Coruscant homes high up, with a lovely view of the diamond bright speeder-light mosiac flowing like rivers of stars around Galactic City. Last he'd seen Coruscant it had been on fire, and the only woman he cared to love had been, to his knowledge, dead. These brownies were her favorite recipe.

Dark chocolate, a hint of sea salt, with a helping of espresso powder for some extra chocolate kick. Delicious, really.

No one was home but him, of course. Him, the piano, and a bit of light baking to pass the time. Romi would be here eventually, and, truth be told, it was the surprise that was always the fun part. It wasn't as though they'd ever met. Certainly, he could imagine she knew of him but they certainly didn't move in the same circles. Yet here he was, cooking brownies in her family's kitchen like he lived there himself.

Humming along to the music, he set the mitts on the countertop with one gently laid atop the other with the thumbs atop each other for a cleaner look.

One of these days he'd get shot for letting himself into someone's home but he had to imagine that day wasn't today. Romi wasn't one of those Jedi that carried around a blaster for fun, so he'd have a moment or two to explain himself while adrenaline and surprise stopped her in her tracks. A scoff, to himself. "That's what you hope," he muttered, beginning to wash his hands. It was an old habit; the cooking was done, and so he washed his hands, whether they were clean already or not.

Old habits died hard, he supposed. He knew he would.

 

[Romi Jade]

CORUSCANT
JADE RESIDENCE

The night hung over Coruscant like a velvet curtain, and the sprawling Jade estate stood as a testament to opulence. The cityscape glittered with distant lights, and in the heart of the estate, the decor was heavily Hapani.

She had been told that her guest had taken up waiting Inside the Jade kitchen -- completely fine with her. She was not expecting though, a charismatic man with a soldiers build, who looked like he had a penchant for mischief, donned in an apron. The kitchen door swung open, and a spirited woman, entered, her eyes widening at the enticing smell.

Surrounded by an assortment of ingredients, a mixing bowl, and an assortment of many other baking utensils, was Sarge, wiping his hands on the apron, and a tray of freshly baked brownies. The aroma of cocoa and sugar danced through the air as he hummed a festive tune, the deep resonance of his voice filling the room.

"Oh-so that's that heavenly smell?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Romi leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. "Sarge Potteiger, making himself at home in the Jade kitchen. Who would've thought?" she teased, but then she came to a sudden realization, "-Is that music too? Oh boy."

Romi approached, inspecting the brownies with a teasing glint in her eye. "I wish all guests did this..."

She exhaled and straightened up, the atmosphere in the kitchen crackled with camaraderie. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" There was an undertone of laughter.

Sarge Potteiger

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Black eyes swept around as Romi Jade stopped at the threshold to the kitchen. Blinking twice, a slow smile spread across his features, the pause there as he wondered just how he should react in the moment. In truth, he should have imagined he wouldn't get in here without her knowing. It had been quite some time since he'd taken his ability to break-and-enter had been tested.

The brownies were just to fill the time, really.

"Why yes, of course it's music. No one wants to work in silence." He dried his hands off again, not wanting damp hands for however she wanted greeted. A hug? A handshake? A knife 'playfully' set to a throat? Who knew. Not him, not anymore.

Piano and bass continued softly in the background in a blueish mélange, and he set a palm to the countertop to lean to one side, the other hand resting at his hip as he studied the athletic Jedi in front of him.

"You're the first person who's greeted me with laughter." There was no mistaking the seriousness of his tone. "Have I truly been gone so long?" The kitchen was warmer than he remembered, likely due to the damn oven, so he undid the button of his collar, exposing the black veins working their way up his neck like necrotic lightning.

"Anyone else would be expecting to be shot, stabbed or hell, kidnapped, but not Romi...." Amusement had softened his baritone and his eyes, and he shook his head slowly. Age had caught up with him, he knew. It had softened out his build and his mannerisms, but he wasn't fighting his way across the galaxy anymore. The only battle he fought was to learn the woman he loved.

This trip to the Jade residence? Hell, he was just bored. But he couldn't well tell her that. It wasn't like they knew each other, really. "Please, try a brownie. It's the sea salt and espresso that really sets off the dark chocolate. Cira's favorite."

 

[Romi Jade]

CORUSCANT
JADE RESIDENCE

"That's fair," she laughed.

Bashfully, she tucked her head, stretching her arms as she walked in for a warm embrace. "If you're doing all this each visit, then please stop by anytime." She stepped back and could see he was in thought, "Oh boy, what is it?" She propped herself back against the countertop, arms folded.

"I highly doubt that's true," she shook her head, laughter lurking under her words. Though, she found herself slipping into her thoughts -- How long has it been actually?

Chit, she didn't know.

"Oh-I walk into a warm kitchen, music playing, the smell of brownies in the air...in my own home and I should expect to get stabbed or kidnapped? Jeez." She smiled through the whole thing, "I guess that would be one hell of a trap."

She twisted around, hands greedily nipping at the air in preparation for what had honestly been at the back of her mind the whole time -- brownies.

"Oohh. Glady." she went to scrape one up.

"What have you been up to this whole time anyway? & how is Cira?" She asked while taking a bite.

Sarge Potteiger

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Now it was her turn to catch him unawares. She'd come in for that most dreaded of contact - a hug - and it took him a full second to process before, with a shyness at odds with his reputation, he embraced her back. It was quick, and for him, awkward, but it was returned. He supposed they'd both have to live with that.

There was a quirk to his lips. "All the best traps find you when you're the least alert."

A flicker of sharp blackness in the voids of his eyes, and then a playful smirk.

"I have been growing older by the day, Romi. And so has she, though...." his nose crinkled as his inner brows furrowed, "I suppose her less so." Broad shoulders hefted into a shrug, unbothered, and he reached out for a glass of wine he'd pilfered from her stores.

"She's well." He didn't dare elaborate further, famously private as she was. The only person he'd met more reserved than himself, despite his often jovial airs.

"Yet you're the one in the news. How have things.... been?"