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Carge's Coffee Shop - Get your cookies and caffeine things here


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I miss custard pie. . .so have a short, stupid story on me~!

The scent of overcooked meat and burnt bread roused Maribelle from her sound sleep. Chrom stood in front of the oven, thick black smoke pouring out from it.

"H-honey, what are you doing in the kitchen?" Maribelle asked nervously. Chrom turned towards his wife, the cook's apron he borrowed dark with soot.

"It's your birthday, and I wanted to wake you with a proper breakfast, but. . ." The couple's eyes met for a brief moment before Maribelle looked down, her hand barely containing a chuckle.

"Dear, I do appreciate the effort!" She wrapped her befuddled husband in a warm embrace, while ignoring the smoky aroma that Chrom radiated. From over his shoulder, Maribelle's gaze darted to something outside of the kitchen window. "I wonder who would be out this early?" she mumbled, breaking free from Chrom's grasp. "I, ah, think I'll get some fresh air," she sputtered.

"Did I screw up breakfast that badly?" Chrom asked the rapidly-shrinking back of his wife.

---

"Aaand there!" Sumia exclaimed. Though the sky still held the faintest traces of night, Sumia was fully dressed. The pegasus rider took an involuntary step backwards when Maribelle approached her.

"Good morning Sumia," Maribelle said curtly.

"Oh, h-hi Maribelle," Sumia replied quickly.

"Isn't it a bit early to be hauling metal?" Maribelle asked, her attention drawn to the roughly fist-sized pouch in Sumia's hands.

"Frederick, uh, asked me to grab something. He works himself far too much for his own good!" Sumia half-yelled.

"I can hear you just fine, darling. Tell that husband of yours that he shouldn't work either of you so hard!" Sumia giggled at Maribelle's response, before turning down the road back to her own house. Though the sun wasn't high in the sky, it was light enough to cause something near Maribelle's foot to shine. "A nail? Is he really asking her for construction supplies at this hour?"

---

Sumia quietly slipped back into her house. Frederick's breathing was slow and even, and if she'd done her research correctly, it would stay that way for the next two hours. She took out two pie pans, each with a crust she made earlier. Taking one final glance around the room, she upended the contents of the pouch into one of the pans. She filled the other pan with sliced peaches. Before placing both pans in the oven, she regarding the "special" pie with a grin that could turn Validar's facial hair into a proper afro.

"Happy birthday, Maribelle, you husband-stealing harlot."

(props to whoever gets the reference)

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