-- for prefers_magneto Highway to hell.

[katerrifically]

The Sunset Motel was a little used motel on a stretch of the road that saw the most traffic during the winter ski months. It was not winter. However, there were a few cars in the lot due to some tourists trying to enjoy the changing fall foliage.

Erik and Kate had made it off of the island. They had traversed the span of the mountainous forest and and made it to the foothills thanks to Erik's unique ability to control metal. It was not the most comfortable way to travel but beggars could not be choosers. Kate had no cause to complain. There was simply no choice in the matter for her. She did as he instructed.

The motel hadn't been the first sign of civilization the two had seen. They did not want to appear too close to the crash site. It might be searched. The two had moved on until they had found the Sunset Motel. The paint was peeling from some sections of the exterior. The parking lot needed to be paved. The decor was horribly dated. Still, it was clean (mostly).

Kate had not asked Erik how he had obtained the room. She thought she might not want to know and also thought that it might not matter.

When they had entered the room, Kate had moved to the bed farthest away from the window. She sat down on the tangerine bedspread. Her posture slumped. She was tired. Kate reached up and brushed her hair back. It was tangled and Kate withdrew her hand sharply to rest both hands on her lap.

"What now?"

Comments

[katerrifically]

"Based on your sunny disposition and your unwillingness to talk about anything other than the plan." She made a face at him. There might have been a slight possibility that she was wrong. "You seem a man of little words."

[prefers_magneto]

"So? There are people like that in the world."

He gestured to the table between them.

"Fine. Choose a topic of conversation. We'll talk about it."

[katerrifically]

"Food." Kate said. They were in a cafe. It was an easy topic, she thought. "Do you have any favorites? What food do you hate the most?"

[prefers_magneto]

"I'm not picky. I wouldn't say I have a 'favourite'. Though, to this day, I can't stand...." He frowned faintly, annoyed with himself. He prided himself on his command of language. "Steckrübe. What do you call it here? Rutabaga? Turnip?" He shook his head. "I can't eat them." He raised his eyebrows her her expectantly. "So? What do you like to eat?" Turn the topic to her. Avoid explaining that little aversion and the fact that he couldn't remember what it was called in English.

[katerrifically]

"Similar plants," Kate said. "Both root vegetables that are okay in stews if you have to. And you can eat the greens. I don't. Unless it's in a salad." Kate did not like to eat cooked greens. She did not hate them, she just avoided them.

She took a sip of her coffee. "Ravioli is my favorite." Her next statement was a point of pride for her. "I'm also an excellent baker."

[prefers_magneto]

"They're not okay in stews or anything else," Erik remarked. "What do you bake?"

[katerrifically]

"I assume parsnips are out too?" Kate made a note of his dislike for any vegetable ending in the word nip. "Anything but I like making cupcakes the best."

[prefers_magneto]

"I've never had a parsnip."

[katerrifically]

"Oh. What about cupcakes, have you ever had one of those?"

[prefers_magneto]

He gives her a stern look. "Yes, I've had cake."

[katerrifically]

"No." Kate pointed at him with two fingers to accentuate her point and how emphatic she meant her response to be. (Some might call it the Disney point.) It was appalling that he had been deprived the simple joy that a cupcake could bring.

"Calling it a cake is like saying you've had coffee when someone asks if you drink espressos. It is not the same thing. A cupcake is a personal, baked piece of goodness. It has the perfect amount of frosting and comes in its own little wrapper. They're better than cakes."