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”Are we sure this is a good idea?” Fairuza asked for the twelfth time that day.
“It’ll be fine,” Maeve assured her, sticking her head into one of the kitchen’s cabinets.
“I’m just saying, none of us are exactly cooks.”
Robin looked up from the recipe book she was flipping through, “I worked as a line cook right after college. Learnt a lot of neat tricks there.”
“Did you learn to work with hot oil?” Fairuza stared pointedly at the large jug Maeve was struggling to get on the counter.
“No,” Robin admitted, “But I can make a mean pancake.”
“And aren’t donuts just sugary pancakes?” Silas walked into the kitchen with a box full of odds and ends.
Everyone took a moment to stare at Silas and his questionable opinion. He took it in stride, dropping everything on a different counter to begin tinkering. On the cooking side Maeve dropped a bag of flour, not even noticing the large cloud that blossomed, covering both her and Fairuza, even reaching Silas’ back.
Robin, somehow flourless, propped her book up and rolled her sleeves, “Come on now, we need to get started before Neb thinks to check where we went.”
“Yes ma’am!”
With the power of meta commentary the group divided into teams, semi-efficiently getting things done. Fairuza mixed the dough, making sure to leave the room before Maeve started to drop the sufganiyot into hot oil. Getting bit by a wolf was one thing, they were supposed to be vicious. Oil was not supposed to attack you. Maeve fought valiantly in an attempt to find jelly, having to compromise with jam. As Fairuza finished she took over, filling the room with oily smoke and fried delicacies.
Off to the side Robin shredded potatoes together, using hashbrown knowledge to make them tasty, if not entirely accurate. Silas built a little hanukiah that looked like a train to hold up glass vials, each with a little string in them, later to be filled with oil. He was reasonably sure it wouldn’t blow up in their faces. They actually made it most of the day before Neb realized she was alone, too absorbed in an old diary they had found buried under old makeup containers. When she opened the door to the kitchen she found a mess, her friends proudly presenting Hannukah basics to her.
“Aw, thank you guys,” Neb said, “Though you do know Hannukah isn’t really an important Jewish holiday, right?”
“It’s...not?” Fairuza’s smile faltered a little.
“I guess I never had to be a Shabbes goyim then,” Robin mused.
“We better still be able to eat the donuts.” Maeve stared at the gooey goodness.
“You’ll have to deal with us making a whole thing about Christmas, so we might as well make a whole thing for you,” Silas said, having had way too much fun just building something.
“It is nice to have something not trying to kill us,” Neb agreed, “But next time ask me for help, I work in a bakery.”
