Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: cmeadows@nyx.cs.du.edu (Chris Meadows) Subject: [AU] [YASC] The Great Cookie Caper Message-ID: <1993Sep19.175134.6229@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu> Date: Sun, 19 Sep 93 17:51:34 GMT THE YOUNG ANDREA AND SHERYL CHRONICLES ADVENTURE THE FIRST: The Great Cookie Caper Introducing the Young Andrea and Sheryl Chronicles ([YASC]), tales of your favorite thief-and-unicorn duo back before they adventured to Generica! Guaranteed not to be as insipid as the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles (I hope not, anyway)! Written on-location, at an amazing budgetary cost! Executive producer: Chris Meadows Producer: Guildmaster Robinson Director: Fujiko Written by Chris Meadows Technical Advisors: Andrea and Sheryl Selactica. City of a thousand stories and one author. That's me. The name's Meadows, Chris Meadows, and I'm a chronicler of tales. Let me tell you one about... "Get ON with it, already!" All RIGHT, Andrea, don't get all touchy. I'm just building the atmosphere... "Who needs it? Come on, tell the people the tale!" All right, all right, if you insist... Selactica was a rather large trade nexus, far away from Generica, on an unspecified area of the continent. About ten years before the present, a certain young thief was undergoing training in the Selactican Thieves' Guild. And this young thief's friend and companion was a young unicorn. Andrea had been at the Guild for a little over a year now, and was about fifteen. She had been learning a great deal in her apprenticeship, and was pretty satisfied with the life she'd chosen for herself. Though she still occasionally fretted about Sheryl's condition, she had forced that to the back of her mind for the nonce as she gained the kind of knowledge that would, she told herself, help her to find a cure for Sheryl's transformation someday. It was nearing the anniversary of the day when Andrea and Sheryl had sought refuge in the 'Guild, and the year-end examinations were coming up. Every young thief had to do something special with his or her talents in order to pass. Andrea wasn't sure what she herself ought to do, but she wanted it to be more than just some petty robbery. She wanted to do something that no one else had done before! She first got the idea when she and Sheryl were practicing being inconspicuous in the city streets. It was very hard to be inconspicuous when you had a unicorn standing around with you, but somehow Andrea managed. As they were sitting under the awning of a general store, a caravan swung into the street and moved slowly forward. Instantly, Andrea perked up. Caravans were always good targets, and if she was careful, she could usually snatch a few gold coins here and there, when the guards weren't looking. After all, few people would be likely to consider a fifteen-year-old girl much of a threat. "Stay here, Sheryl," Andrea said. "I'm going to go see what I can get." Hand on her dagger, she slipped away, into the road, and managed to climb surreptitiously through a loose flap on the back of one of the wagons. She hid behind a big trunk--there were people in the front of the wagon, after all. The first thing she noticed about the wagon was the smell. It was a rich smell, and a sweet one, though it was completely unfamiliar to her. But she liked it. Then she heard what the people were saying. There were two of them, a man and a woman, dressed in slightly strange clothes. They were of a simple fabric, but the style of the clothes was strange to Andrea...they looked like an imitation of Selactican styles by a tailor who had only the descriptions to work by. Of course, most people would probably not have noticed, but a thief's eyes had to be sharp. "You think they'll like our goods?" the man was asking. "Oh, yes...especially the xocolatl," the woman replied, pronouncing the "x" as "zsh". "Or, as they might call it in this land, chocolate. I don't know if they've ever seen it here before, and they might not know how to use it, but we have recipes that will show them ways." The woman held up a sheet of paper. Then an errant gust of wind blew it out of her hand and back into the wagon. Andrea reached out and snagged it before it could blow away, and examined it. It was a recipe, like the woman had said. Andrea was glad she'd taken the trouble to learn how to read. XOCOLATL CHIP COOKIES 2 1/4 cups flour 3/4 cup white sugar 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon vanilla 1/2 teaspoon salt 2 eggs 1 cup (1/2 pound) softened butter 1 cup chopped nuts (if desired) 3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar 3/4 pound dark chocolate pieces Mix flour with baking soda and salt; set aside. Beat butter, sugars, vanilla, and eggs until light and fluffy. Blend in flour mixture. Stir in nuts and chips. Drop from teaspoon, 2 inches apart, onto ungreased baking pans. Bake in a medium-hot oven [there was a notation here, the number 375 with a little circle after it] for about ten minutes or until golden brown. Makes about 6 dozen cookies. Andrea had followed recipes before, so most of this one made sense to her. The only things that puzzled her were the 375x symbol, and the "dark chocolate pieces" ingredient. But she was sharp enough to put two and two together. Very quietly, she eased open the trunk in front of her. It was filled with large bars of something dark, wrapped in white paper. And this was what the smell was coming from. VERY quietly, two of the large bars made their way inside Andrea's tunic. Then the trunk closed once more, and Andrea stuffed the recipe in her pocket just as the wagon came to a halt. They must have reached their destination. Can't let them find me here, Andrea thought, slipping out the loose flap and back down the street. Back together with Sheryl, Andrea found a quiet spot and unwrapped one of the bars. It was a dark brown color...like dried mud, Andrea reflected. But it didn't smell like mud. Or taste like it, either, Andrea decided after breaking off a small slab for herself and Sheryl to sample. It was GOOD! Sheryl nickered with pleasure, jerking her head up and down in that peculiar way equines have of indicating they really like something. "Hmm, that IS good. I bet cookies made with this stuff would taste great!" Then Andrea had her idea for what her yearly exam project would be--to be the first person in town to make those chocolate chip cookies! But she would have to hurry. The caravan would start selling its goods tonight at six p.m. in the town square (it was about two in the afternoon now), and Andrea would have to gather all the ingredients herself, then make them in someone else's kitchen. Then she would take the cookies back and offer them in triumph to Master Robinson! After testing them to be sure they were fit for human consumption, of course. Andrea outlined her idea. "Are you with me, Sheryl?" she asked. Sheryl nodded emphatically, and Andrea knew the reason why--she just wanted to sample those cookies! "Okay, let's go. First, we need to store this chocolate in a safe, secure place. A cool one, since it seems to be prone to melt." Andrea looked at her sticky fingers. "After that, we'll gather our ingredients." "Hey, it's Sheryl, the unicorn!" In the year that she'd been in Selactica, Sheryl had become something of a town mascot. Whenever she showed up, she was fussed over, petted, appreciated, et cetera. It was well-known that she was under the protection of the Thieves' Guild, one of the most powerful organizations in Selactica, and anyone who tried to mess with her would be most painfully messed with himself. So she could walk around in public without much fear of any harm befalling her. Currently, Sheryl was walking around in front of the general store, and its owner had both eyes on her and none on his wares. Thus it was a simple matter for Andrea to snag a bottle of vanilla, a small package of salt, a handful of almonds, and some baking soda. She followed that with small bags of regular and brown sugar. Unfortunately, he was out of flour. Oh, well, she'd get that later. The next stop was the local dairy. The cold room, to be precise. Here, the dairyman was placing buckets of freshly-churned butter on a shelf next to the door. As he placed two buckets up there and turned away to get more, he didn't notice the hand reach out from behind the door, grab one of the buckets, and, a second later, replace it with an empty bucket before disappearing again. As Andrea came out of the dairy, bucket of butter triumphantly in hand, she was met by a boy the same age as her, clad in similar tunic and jerkins. "Stealing dairy gold instead of the metal kind?" he asked. "That's not like you." "Maybe I have a really large piece of bread," Andrea retorted. The boy snorted. "Come on, Andrea, what's up?" When she didn't say anything, he said, "It's the year-end project, isn't it? You're working out some scheme that involves...hmm, a bucket full of butter. Now what could you use that for...?" Andrea tried to go around him, but he blocked her way. She looked at the shadows. By their length, it was probably about three o'clock. She didn't have time for this! "So what if it is, Daron?" The boy shrugged. "It's no concern of mine, really. My project is in already." Daron had pulled off an exceedingly brilliant robbery, sneaking merchandise out right under the watchful eyes of the town guards. Every day for the last month or so, he had led a mule loaded down with straw out of town, right past the very watchful eyes of the town guards. They had searched everything on those mules, but hadn't been able to find a thing. Then, a few days before, he had announced to Master Robinson what he'd done: he'd been stealing mules! "As I said, my project is in already. But if you wouldn't mind a little help with yours...you could have all the credit, I just want to help." Andrea eyed him suspiciously. "What's in it for you?" Daron shrugged. "I just want to satisfy my natural curiosity. And I also happen to like your unicorn." Andrea sighed. "All right, you're in. Now get out of my way before someone sees me with this butter. I'll tell you all about it on the way back to the Guild to hide this stuff." Daron was about six feet tall, lanky, with dusty blond hair. He was the same age as Andrea, or perhaps a little older. And he had a reputation for slick thefts. It was just as well, Andrea reflected, that he'd joined up with them. She would need an accomplice for getting the eggs and the flour. The eggs were located in a large henhouse on the outskirts of town. The front of it was surrounded by a high fence, but the rear wall was unfenced...and there was a a window about twenty feet up. It was usually kept open, too. Not a problem. Andrea shinnied up it, basket over one arm, while Daron stayed below to keep watch. Andrea lowered herself through the window and onto the narrow catwalk between two rows of chicken nests. The chickens squawked a bit, but that was normal for chickens. Andrea reached underneath and pulled out four or five eggs and nestled them snug in the hay in the basket. She then lowered the basket from the window to the ground below, where Daron would grab it and take it to the 'guild to place with the rest of the ingredients. Just as Daron grabbed the basket, there was a shouted, "Hey!!!" from behind Andrea. She turned to see the farmer coming up the stair. "What are you doing!" "Uh, would you believe I'm out for a stroll?" Andrea asked weakly. The farmer growled and rushed her. "Guess not." Andrea grabbed the nearest handy projectile, which happened to be a chicken. She threw it at the farmer's face. "SQUAAAAWK!!!" Then she grabbed an egg from the nest and threw it while he was still getting up. It hit his face with a splat, just making him madder. The farmer threw off chicken and egg and rushed straight for Andrea. "Hey, whoa!" she said, planting a snap-kick right in the farmer's gut. He deflated with a WHOOF! and fell back to the floor. "That's better. Ciao!" She jumped out the window and tumbled to the ground, catching herself perfectly and then running like crazy. Back in the Thieve's Guild, Andrea and Daron planned their next caper. "We just need the flour, that's all," Andrea said. Daron nodded. "And I know just where to get that." "Where?" "The bakery on main street. You see, there's a basement-level window next to their flour storage room in back. We could get in, easy." "Great. We'll do that." "Let's go, then!" Andrea and Daron dropped through the window into the storage room, without a problem. Sheryl stood outside the window, peering in. The room was about fifteen feet square, with a wooden door in the side opposite the one grungy window, and shelves with ten-pound flour sacks on them all around the room. "Here's a flour sack...ungh! There." Andrea shoved it out the window. "Better take another one, just to be sure," Daron said, picking it up. Sheryl chose just this moment to stick her head forward through the window to look around, and the flour sack impaled itself squarely on her horn, ripping open and spilling its contents all over the pair of thieves. Just then, the storeroom door opened, and a woman in an apron stepped in. She caught sight of Andrea and Daron. Her eyes widened. She shrieked, "Ghosts, aaaaah!" and promptly fainted. Sheryl jumped back, looking around. Ghosts? Where! Where! Andrea sighed, disgusted, and reached up to the window to pull herself up and out to street level. Daron followed. They dusted themselves off as best they could, causing billowing white clouds. "Now all we have to do is get back to the Guild, grab the rest of the ingredients, find a kitchen, and make the stuff!" Andrea said brightly. "Right!" Daron agreed. "And I think I know just the kit--" "You brats aren't going anywhere!" It was a man wearing an apron and carrying a rolling pin. The baker who owned the shop. "I've caught you red-handed!" Andrea and Daron looked at each other, exchanging silent signals. Then, as one, they turned and rushed the man, Sheryl barely behind them. Before he could do anything, he went down and his rolling pin went flying! Andrea, Sheryl, and Daron raced down the alley, the sack of flour tucked under Andrea's arm. Behind them, the baker got back to his feet, grabbed the rolling pin, and started running after them. Andrea and friends raced around the corner and down the street, the mad baker behind them. "Bring that flour back here, you--you little thieves!" "Compliments will get you nowhere, but don't stop trying!" Daron yelled over his shoulder, nearly running into a fat merchant and his entourage. Never one to let an opportunity slip by, Daron grabbed the merchant's purse in passing, just before Sheryl knocked the merchant over (quite by accident, of course). They ran onward, but now the merchant and three guards had joined in the chase. "What the hell did you grab that guy's purse for?!" Andrea yelled at Daron, weaving around a group of clerics walking toward a nearby temple. Daron, who was dividing his attention between peering into the purse and watching where he was going, said, "Fifty platinum pieces, a few gold, and a couple of smallish gems, looks like. I'll divvy with you." "You'd BETTER." Andrea jumped over a dog that was lying on the sidewalk. "Quick, in here!" She pointed into a nearby church. "Are you crazy--?!" Daron broke off as Andrea veered into the church door, followed by Sheryl. He shook his head. "I must be crazy too," he muttered, following them. They dashed up the aisle, in the middle of a service that was going on. "Sorry for the disturbance," Andrea said, tossing a few coins into the collection plate on general principles before dashing off to the left toward the side exit. Daron grabbed the decanter of sacramental wine off the altar beside the collection plate and said, "Thanks, don't mind if I do," before following her. Sheryl just nickered, plunging her horn into the small bowl of holy water sitting on the altar, purifying it until it sparkled, before following her human companions. The priest just stood there, in his robes, with his mouth hanging open, looking confused. Then, attempting to recapture his vanished dignity, he closed his mouth, swallowed, and started to speak again--and was knocked over by the baker as he ran up the hall in pursuit of the flour thieves. "Which way did they--oh, there they are!" He skidded around the corner and ran on out the door. The priest got up, cleared his throat and tried again. "I--Aaaaugh!" This time it was the merchant and his guards who came running up the aisle, knocking him to the ground once more. THIS time, the cleric had HAD it. SOMEONE was going to pay for this. He stood up, gestured at the merchant and guards, and pronounced some words. All the merchant's hair fell out, as did that of his guards. This rather stopped them in their tracks, leaving them to deal with the priest as the chase continued outside. The baker had nearly caught up with Andrea, and was on the verge of tackling her. "Catch!" She tossed the flour sack over to Daron, who stuck the wine decanter inside his tunic and grabbed it, just before the baker tackled Andrea. She rolled with the tackle, throwing the baker off and into a nearby wall. He went "Oof!" But then a guardsman, seeing the two running and the sack under Daron's arm, jumped to a conclusion and ran to head him off. "Uh-oh! Take this!" Daron tossed the flour sack back over to Andrea, then nimbly dodged the guard's clumsy grab attempt, giving the guard an elbow in the back that made him fall over as he passed. Andrea caught the sack, still running forward. A cloud of dust rose as the confused guard hit the ground behind them. Andrea, Sheryl, and Daron dashed on down the street--the baker had gotten back up and was once again on their tail. "This way!" Andrea decided, pointing down a side street. The threesome skidded to a halt as they turned the corner, and ran down the narrower street for all they were worth. "...and may this company and the storyteller be seven thousand times better off a year from today, and the blessings of the gods on the souls of the dead." Officer Killian of the town guard was finishing up one of the traditional tales of his homeland, his thick Irish brogue adding flavor to his words. About half a dozen street kids were sitting in front of him, listening intently to the tale. Suddenly two kids and one unicorn zoomed by in front of him, followed by one panting, angry baker. Killian shook his head. "What is that girl up to now..." he wondered. Then he shook his head, and said, "All right, boys and girls. Now how would you like to be hearin' another tale, eh?" Andrea, Daron, and Sheryl rounded a corner, and came to an abrupt halt. They were in a dead-end alley. "What do we do now, eh?" Daron asked. Andrea never got a chance to answer that, for as the baker rounded the corner, rolling pin upraised, a woman with long, brownish-blonde hair, a tight-fitting leather suit, and paired swords on her back stepped out in front of him. In a flash, her swords were drawn and crossed in front of her to catch the rolling pin on its downsweep. With a swift motion, she twisted it out of the baker's hands and tossed it aside. "Fujiko!" Andrea breathed. The blonde-haired lady thief winked over her shoulder at Andrea, and directed her full attention at the baker, who stood there seething. She reached out with her shorter sword (a wakizashi; the longer one was a katana) and poked him in the chest with it. "I don't know what it is with you," she said. "So why are you chasing them, huh?" "They stole a sack of flour," the man got out. "A sack of flour?" Fujiko asked, raising the point of her sword until it hovered just in front of the baker's face. He flinched. "All this for one sack of flour?" When the baker didn't say anything more, she continued. "Of course, that's what I'd EXPECT, from you." She sheathed her katana and paced back and forth, tossing up and catching a dagger with her free hand. "Do you know that your pastries are consistently smaller than the city government's standards? Not much smaller, of course...just a few ounces. But oh, the flour you must save by shorting everyone like that. Gee, I wonder if His Lordship the High Mayor would be interested to hear about that?" The baker gradually calmed down, though he continued to glare at Andrea and Daron, who were standing back against the wall at the end of the alley. "Yeah? So?" "So I think that you might be advised to go back to your bakery and forget this ever happened, lest you get a visit from His Lordship. Get the point?" Fujiko caught her dagger and pivoted around, bringing the point of her blade up to the baker's face for emphasis. The man flinched. "Er, yes...yes, I do." "Good." Fujiko sheathed her wakizashi and made the dagger vanish. "I'd hate to think we had a communication problem. Get out of here." The man scrambled to pick up his rolling pin and, with one last glare at Andrea and friends, beat it out of the alley. Fujiko turned to Andrea and Daron. "Care to tell me what's going on?" she asked. "Why all the fuss over a sack of flour?" Andrea shrugged. "He seems to be the one fussing about it." "You know what I mean, Andrea." When Fujiko adopted that serious tone of voice, Andrea knew better than to try to fool around. "It's for my year-end project," she confessed. "Ah." Fujiko nodded, understanding. "Getting caught is points off, you know." "We weren't caught," Daron said, taking a swig from the wine decanter. "We would have handled that guy...somehow..." Andrea nodded, making a chopping motion with her free hand to demonstrate. "Tae kwan do, just like you taught me. If YOU hadn't interfered..." She grinned. Fujiko shook her head in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. "I just should have known I can't win around you." She walked to the side of the alley. "All right, I didn't see you. Get on with whatever it is you're doing," she said. "I won't even ask what scheme you're cooking up that involves the use of ten pounds of flour, half a dozen eggs, a bucket of butter, baking powder, salt, sugar, and vanilla." She disappeared. "How does she DO that?" Daron wondered. "And how did she find out about our acquisitions?" Andrea shook her head. "With Fujiko, you don't ask...she just KNOWS these things. She's not only a thief, she's a lady spy." Sheryl nickered her agreement. Andrea and Daron stood in the section of the Guild cold room where they had secreted their ingredients. "So where's the kitchen we're supposed to make them in?" Andrea asked. "I mean, we can't just use the Guild facilities 'cause that wouldn't be in the spirit of the thing. It's an all-or-nothing kind of deal, y'know?" Daron nodded. "Fear not, I have the perfect place! We are going to make our cookies--YOUR cookies," he hastily corrected, "in the Lord High Mayor's own kitchen." Andrea blinked. "What?" she asked, somehow managing to insert more doubt into that one syllable than most others could put in entire paragraphs. "It's not a problem," Daron elaborated. "Y'see, there's a service entrance in the rear of the Town Hall that is quite easy to pick." He grinned slyly. "And I happen to know that there are no celebrations or official dinners or anything like that within the next few days which would require the use of the kitchens. So they'll be deserted, unused. We get in there, do a couple of hours of cooking, and be out before you know it." Andrea grinned, beginning to see the appeal of the idea. Especially since it was getting on toward four o'clock. "Great! I'll load up Sheryl, and we'll get right over there." Sheryl gave a startled whinny, and looked at Andrea suspiciously, as if to say, "Use a UNICORN as a beast of burden? No way, Jose..." "Look, Sheryl, it's the only way to get over there in time...we need you to carry all the ingredients." She indicated the flour, the eggs, the butter, the chocolate, etc. "I'm going to go get a small-sized packsaddle and put something together. We should be over there within half an hour." Sheryl snorted. No way, there was NOTHING Andrea could say or do that was going to convince her to suffer the indignity of carrying the ingredients. She didn't CARE about the year-end project, the chocolate, ANYTHING. She was NOT carrying those ingredients! Andrea got down in front of Sheryl and said, "I'll let you lick the mixing spoon...." About twenty minutes later, two small figures and a laden unicorn snuck up behind the City Hall. Daron bent over the door's lock, and then pushed it open. "Simple. They really should change their locks." "Just shut up and come on," Andrea said, looking around nervously for guards. "I told you, there won't BE any guards," Daron said. "They don't come back here...there's nothing IMPORTANT here, just the kitchens." Sheryl interrupted this exchange by whinnying impatiently. She walked stiffly on ahead of the two humans, her every step unmistakenly conveying her wounded pride. She might be willing to carry all the stuff, but by Issek she didn't have to LIKE it! Andrea sighed and walked on after her. "All right, Sheryl, all right...it's this door here. Come on in and we'll unload the stuff." Andrea trotted into the door as fast as she could without slipping on the stone floor. Her footsteps echoed down the corridor. "Could you get that 'corn to be QUIET?" Daron asked. "There aren't any guards back here, but I wouldn't want one to hear noises and investigate." "Don't fret it, she'll be quiet. Won't you, dear one?" Andrea asked, uncinching the saddle and lifting it off. Sheryl snorted. She'd just BETTER get to lick the mixing spoon was all she was thinking. "What now?" Daron asked, closing the door behind them. "Preheat the oven." Andrea pulled out the recipe and unfolded it, smoothed it out on the counter. "Say what?" Daron asked, blinking. "Oh, sorry...technical term. Put some wood in the oven and start a good fire going." "Right." Daron went to the woodpile and selected some good logs. Andrea took a moment to gaze around the kitchen. It was large enough to cook for a good number of people, with several faucets and basins, lots of flat table space, cabinets, and two big ovens. The ovens were large affairs of brick and mortar, with space underneath to place wood to make a fire, and then the baking racks above. There were also many cabinets around, which Andrea opened at random until she found what she was looking for--mixing bowls and spoons. They were of a good quality, too--solid stone, not the cheap wood that was all that many people could afford. Andrea was careful as she took them down, set them on a workspace and prepared to get busy. Behind her, Daron started the fire, and it began to crackle. By the time she was done mixing, it would be ready. "Let's see...I'd better mix the butter, eggs, and stuff together, first..." "Is there anything else I can do?" Daron asked. Kitchens were pretty unfamiliar territory for him. Pretty much all he knew about food was that it was good to eat. "Not really...just mind the fire, see that it doesn't get too big or go out. Keep watch, and keep Sheryl out of trouble while I'm mixing." Sheryl snorted. Andrea chuckled. "Just kidding, Sher. Don't go anywhere, okay?" Sheryl snorted again, as if to express her disgust at Andrea's imprecations. Andrea grinned and got back to her mixing. First, Andrea measured out 3/4 of a cup of sugar, using the finely-wrought measuring cups from a nearby drawer, then dumped it in. She measured a similar amount of the dark brown sugar, and added it. Sheryl followed her every movement with interest, having forgotten all about her plans to get into trouble. She'd never SEEN anyone make cookies before (mainly because animals weren't allowed in Guild kitchens, even if they were unicorns ), and wanted to know all about it. Andrea noticed, and grinned. "Nice to see you taking an interest, Sher." Sheryl just snorted, as if to say, "Get on with it!" "Now I'll put in this butter that we stole..." Andrea said, measuring out a cup from the bucket. The butter was nice and soft from sitting out and being carried on unicorn-back across town, so getting the cup wasn't any problem. Andrea washed her greasy hands in a nearby basin before continuing. "Two eggs...hmm, and I'd better not forget the vanilla, either...okay, what else? Hmm, though it's technically counter to the recipe, I'll just sprinkle in the salt and baking soda now so they can get nice and mixed up. There." Now was the part Andrea didn't like much. Beating the mixture together until it was smooth. When she made cookies back in the Guild, she usually had to use an eggbeater of some sort, and it took FOREVER. But as Andrea opened a drawer searching for it, she came upon a device that looked rather like a large eggbeater of some kind...but it had a crank on it. "Hmmm...I think I might be able to use this..." Andrea lifted it up, put it in the bowl, tried it...it worked! Quite well, in fact. Andrea decided to...borrow...this mixer from the kitchen after she was finished with her cookies. After she was finished, Andrea ejected the beaters from the mixer (actually rather inadvertantly...she touched the button and they fell out) and gave them to Sheryl, who happily licked off the butter, sugar, and egg mixture from them while Andrea added the flour and stirred hard. "This is...ungh...shaping up...quite nicely," she grunted as she made sure she got all the flour mixed into the dough. "Now I...ungh...just have to add the chocolate and the nuts." Sheryl's happy nicker as her pink tongue swiped over the two mixer beaters indicated the she didn't particularly care at the moment. Daron was busy tending the fire. Andrea unwrapped one of the bars of chocolate. "Let's see...how should I go about this?" she wondered. "I guess I just sort of break it up...Hmm, I wonder if a meat tenderizer would do the trick?" It did, and very nicely, Andrea discovered. A few good whacks later, the bar, which seemed to be about 3/4 of a pound just as the recipe called for, was in little pieces. Andrea dumped them into the bowl, followed by what remained of the almonds after she took a cleaver to them. Handy for chopping, those cleavers. The weight of the blade added to their cutting power. "Now...I'll just stir it up a little more, and voila. The dough's ready." Andrea sampled it. "Hmm, yummy. This should taste good when it's baked. Speaking of which, Daron, how's that fire coming?" "I think it's ready," he reported. "Good. Let's get the first batch ready and put it in." Andrea pulled a spoon out and started to drop the cookie dough onto the marble baking pans. She was able to get about sixteen cookies on each one, and she put two into the oven to bake. Closing the door, Andrea turned over the ten-minute hourglass on a nearby counter, and settled down to wait. "Oh...I almost forgot." Andrea scraped most of the dough off of the mixing spoon, and then let Sheryl have it. The little 'corn lay down happily on the floor with the spoon in her mouth. This MORE than made up for the indignity of having to carry the ingredients over. Sheryl hoped Andrea would make cookies more often! It was one of the longest ten minutes that Andrea had ever spent, especially as the kitchen began to fill with the warm, sweet smell of cookies baking. Even Daron's mouth watered as the cookies neared completion. Finally, as the last of the sand ran out of the hourglass, Andrea picked up one of the poles ending in flat trays that were used for removing cakes and bread, and reached in to take out the baking pans. The cookies were golden brown, done perfectly. "Ooh, they sure do smell good," Andrea announced, removing them with a spatula and setting them on the cooling racks. "Hey, give me one of those!" Daron said, reaching. Andrea slapped his hand. "Let them cool a little first," she said, though it was all she herself could do to keep from snatching one. Sheryl reared up and placed her forefeet on the counter, trying to get at the cooling cookies. Andrea laughed. "Okay, all right Sheryl. I'll give you one. But they're very hot, so don't blame me when you burn yourself." She picked one up and offered it to Sheryl, who first sniffed it, and then took it whole from Andrea's hand. And nearly dropped most of it when it became apparent how hot it was, especially the molten chocolate pieces in it. "I TOLD you," Andrea admonished, setting a basin of water on the floor which the little 'corn took a big draught of. Andrea shook her head, smiled, and offered a cookie to Daron. Daron grabbed it eagerly, though HE waited for it to cool a little before taking a bite. "Wow! This is GREAT!" "Mmph, yeah!" Andrea said, through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. "Let's bake the rest of these." An hour or so later, Andrea heard the city clock tower chime the hour of five o'clock, just as the last batch of the cookies came out of the oven. "You're finished?" Daron asked. Andrea nodded. "Good, let's get out of here." "Not so fast, Daron," Andrea said. "We have to clean up, first." "Clean up?!" Daron snorted. "But this isn't even our kitchen!" "Don't you remember what Master Castille said?" Andrea asked. "You ALWAYS clean up after a job, and make sure everything's the way you left it." "But somehow I don't think Master Castille had baking cookies in mind..." Daron protested. "Regardless, we have to clean up now. C'mon, I'll wash and you dry..." After a bit of grumbling, Daron reluctantly joined in, and after a few minutes, the dishes they'd used were clean once more. "NOW, can we get out of here?" Daron asked, putting the last of the cookies in a brown paper bag he'd gotten from somewhere. Andrea nodded. "Just as soon as I load up the remainder of the ingredients. We can't leave anything around to show that we were here." Though Sheryl protested, Andrea put the pack saddle back together and strapped it to the little 'corn's back. Then they departed through the service entrance once more, and headed back to the Thieves' Guild. Andrea, Sheryl, and Daron entered the Guild through one of the camouflaged side entrances into the main courtyard. Once inside, they were greeted by the vendors at the dozen or so market stalls that were set up here at any given time, selling wares that thieves could use. Passing the bazaar, Andrea and Sheryl walked up the steps to the Guild proper. Daron called from behind them, "Hey, I'll see you later, all right?" "All right!" Andrea turned back and waved. Of course she realized what Daron was doing--stepping out of the way to let her take all the credit, as agreed. Whoever said there was no honor among thieves had never stopped in at the Selactican Thieves' Guild! "Bye!" Daron waved again. "Thanks for livening up an otherwise dreary afternoon. I'm off to that caravan to see about obtaining some chocolate of my own!" Andrea giggled as Daron stepped behind a bazaar booth and didn't come back out. "Showoff," she muttered, and walked back inside, Sheryl trotting along beside her. The Guild offices were busy, as they often were--the journeyman thieves were getting assignments to various parts of town, and to the caravans that were constantly coming in. Andrea wondered who would be assigned to the one she had taken the chocolate bars from. Fujiko was leaning against the wall outside the office as Andrea walked up, paper bag in hand. "Hello, Andrea," Fujiko said. "Something certainly smells good." Andrea nodded. "These are for Guildmaster Robinson." "He'll certainly be glad to get them, I'm sure. Come this way." Fujiko led Andrea around through a secret door and down a narrow passage. Andrea made certain to remember the location of the door so that she could make use of it herself upon future occasions. They eventually emerged through the secret door at the back of Robinson's office, behind the desk. Robinson was sitting at the desk, contemplating some papers, and he didn't notice them, so silently were they moving. "Uncle?" Fujiko asked, and Robinson started violently. He turned around. "Don't DO that, girl!" he said, an expression of annoyance on his face. "Sorry, uncle," Fujiko said meekly, her wicked grin belieing her meek demeanor. "I had hoped to catch you between appointments. I see I was successful." Robinson threw up his hands. "That's the worst part of the job," he said in exasperation. "All the thieves feel they have to come to ME with their business. Why don't they just go out and steal something, THEN report it to me?" Fujiko patted Robinson on the shoulder. "Now, uncle," she said. "We both know it doesn't work that way." Robinson sighed. "Yes, I know. But it doesn't stop one from wishing, does it?" "You really should delegate some of this, you know," Fujiko said. "Give the lower Masters and journeymen more to take care of." "You may be right, m'girl," Robinson said. "But dammit, if I don't take a personal interest in the matters of my Guild, then what sort of a Guildmaster am I?" With that rhetorical question, they both sensed that the discussion was over and moved on to another subject. "So, Fujiko, what brings you here in such an unorthodox manner?" "Andrea and Sheryl," Fujiko answered simply. "As you know, the yearly finals are upon us..." Robinson groaned. "How I know it. Look at all these reports I have to go over." He waved a sheaf of paper at her, then eyed her shrewdly. "I hope that you don't want me to intercede on Andrea's behalf, because you know I can't--" "No, no, that's not it at all!" Fujiko said in a hurt tone. "You know me better than that, uncle." "Then out with it, girl. For what reason are they here?" He peered around Fujiko and noticed Andrea standing there, paper bag in hand, and Sheryl beside her. "No, wait. I'd better address my question to the proper recipients, I think." He looked over at Andrea. "Well?" Andrea stepped forward, eyes lowered. She was often nervous when she encountered Robinson in his office like this. "I--" she began, cleared her throat, and started over. She'd had plenty of time to rehearse this speech, but it seemed rather reluctant to come out. "As you know, sir, for the yearly final we have to do something unusual with our thiefly talents. For my final, I have--" Andrea faltered. Suddenly her project seemed very small and insignificant. Everyone else had done amazing things, Daron's mule-stealing project, for example, and what had she done? She'd made cookies. She wasn't sure she could go on, but fortunately Robinson chose that moment to interrupt. "What is that wonderful smell?" he asked, sniffing the air. "It smells like...some kind of baking, I think, but I've never smelled this particular smell before..." He peered at Andrea, and pointed at the bag she was clutching in her hands. "What have you there, m'girl?" Andrea put the bag on the desk. "It's--it's my project. For this year's finals, I made cookies. A new kind of cookies," she added, seeing Robinson's puzzled expression. "These have never been made here before. Maybe never anywhere," she added, knowing that it was probably an exaggeration. "I used a secret ingredient and a recipe that I got from one of the caravan carts coming into town, and I stole all of the ingredients, and even the use of the kitchen facilities in which to make them." "Impressive," Robinson said, reaching into the bag and pulling one out. "And you say these have never been made here before?" "Yes," Andrea said proudly, and Sheryl whinnied. "This is absolutely the first batch this town has ever seen. I know this because the caravan will not start unloading its wares until six this evening, and it's only five forty-five now." "Ah, I see." Robinson took a bite as Andrea watched expectantly. His face lit up. "These are very good!" he said. "Fujiko, have one of the serving women fetch a pitcher of milk." "Milk? Not wine?" Fujiko affected a puzzled expression. "Don't tease me, girl!" Robinson roared. "You know that wine doesn't go with cookies." Fujiko giggled and slipped out the back. The wall sealed shut behind her. Robinson chuckled, and leaned back in his seat. He pointed Andrea to one of the other seats in the office, and she sat down. Robinson grinned. "These are really good. What are these called?" "Chocolate chip cookies, sir," Andrea said. "The ingredient, chocolate or xocolatl, came from the caravan that came in from the east. I also got this there." She pulled out the recipe, unfolded it, and handed it to Robinson. "I see...hmm, this will require some consideration. Ah, there you are, m'dear." Fujiko had just returned, pitcher of milk in one hand, three large mugs of the kind ordinarily used for ale in the other. She set the milk and mugs in a clear spot on Robinson's cluttered desk for long enough to pull a chair up to it, then poured the milk and passed it to Andrea and Robinson. "Oh, nearly forgot." Fujiko brought out a bowl and poured some milk into it for Sheryl. "There." Then Robinson passed out the cookies, including a share for Sheryl. Sheryl wasted no time, but started munching right away, not paying much attention to anything but her cookies, which elicited a grin from Andrea. "Hey, what about the people who are waiting to see you?" Fujiko asked Robinson through a mouth half-full of cookies. "Mmph--gulp! That's right, I nearly forgot." He cleared his throat. "Merla!!" he shouted. A few seconds later, the middle-aged woman who served as his secretary came through the door from the outer office. It was a well-known joke that Robinson didn't use (or need) an intercom speaking tube--he could make his own voice carry remarkably well. "You called, sir?" Merla asked. "Yes. I would like you to hold all my appointments." Merla, accustomed to the Guildmaster's demands, said, "Yes, sir," and walked back out the door. "Ah, that's better," Robinson said, propping his feet up on his desk and leaning back in his chair. "You know, Fujiko, this chocolate stuff is delicious. I think it might spread all over the continent eventually--perhaps even as far as Generica." Fujiko nodded, finishing her last cookie and swigging her milk. "I think you may just be right about that, uncle," she said. "Therefore, I would like you to take a look at this caravan, try to learn more about this stuff, and otherwise investigate. Get on it immediately." "Yes, Guildmaster." Fujiko stood, saluted, and walked to the back door. She paused as she was about to close it behind her. "I'll see you later, Andrea." "Bye!" Andrea waved, and Sheryl nickered. Then Fujiko was gone. After Fujiko had left, Robinson brushed the crumbs off his desk, put the remaining cookies in the bag in his drawer, and cleared his throat. "Now, as to the matter of your grade in the yearly final..." Andrea sat upright, heart pounding. What did he think? What grade would he give her? Did she pass? "Most apprentice thieves can pass the final easily," Robinson said. "All it really takes is to go out and steal something. Any clod can do that. "But what is rarer, what hardly anybody does, is come up with a truly novel way of passing. Like what you've done with these cookies." He pointed to the drawer. "I think that you show great promise, Andrea. GREAT promise. That's why I'm giving you...this." He was writing something on a slip of paper as he talked, and when he finished, he set down the fountain pen and handed the slip to Andrea. Andrea blinked, and her jaw dropped. This was the highest possible grade she could receive! She looked back up at Robinson, met his gaze. "S-sir? I--I can't believe it!" "Do believe it." Robinson took the paper back. "Though there have been many thefts in recent times, this is the first one I can remember that I actually enjoyed. And I think that we have not seen the last of this 'chocolate.'" Robinson's words proved prophetic. In the years to come, chocolate spread across the continent, from Selactica outward, on to the Specificas and Generica, in the course of the next five to ten years. Chocolate chip cookies were a favorite way of enjoying it, and some began to manufacture miniature chocolate pieces for use in those cookies (though chocolate was still also available in bar form, of course). During her time at the Guild, Andrea and Sheryl (and sometimes Daron, too) made several more batches of chocolate chip cookies, whenever the precious substance could be procured. It was fun for them, and soon the other youngsters in the Guild had started. Robinson was pleased. "Keeps 'em out of trouble," he'd said. "Or, rather, it lets them save their creative energies for when they have to get in trouble OUTSIDE the Guild." After leaving the Guild, Andrea often encountered chocolate products in the course of her adventures with Sheryl. Andrea was often amazed by how far this new delicacy had travelled, and she sometimes wondered just who those people had been who had first introduced it to Selactica. It would be more than ten years before Andrea and Sheryl had another chance to bake chocolate chip cookies... -- Chris Meadows | Robotech/RIFTS/Palladium fanfic author/editor CHM173S@SMSVMA | They Might Be Giants about Star Trek aliens: CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU | "Everybody wants prosthetic foreheads CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | on their real heads!"