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Mac and Cheese Please!

  • Writer: Monica
    Monica
  • Feb 14, 2019
  • 11 min read

Mac & Cheese.

Once a favorite food, now a favorite way to wreck your stomach and regret it later---make that least favorite way. Hello lactose intolerance!

I've suffered through years of bad bar Macaroni, Kraft Mac made with vanilla soy milk, and the worst of it all---Vegan Macaroni and Cheese.

And then Liv ate it and I decided to try again.

Adding peas is one of my long-time staples to add in to Mac & Cheese. Sometimes Tuna, sometimes broccolini.

This time around, I had a game changer. Larger noodles. I guess it just felt fancier? Maybe I just buy better pasta now? Also, real cheese! Okay, I bought a real cheese sauce...

Here's how I made Fancy Mac and cheese:

Larger noodles

REAL Cheese Sauce

Chopped up Broccoli and Bell Pepper

Crab Meat (of course)

And to top it all off---Bread crumbs!

If I had more time, I would have made actual baked mac & cheese, but this time I just stirred it all together. Pretty nice, right?

The Episode

This is the first time the ignored assistant didn't do the killing! But then again, it was the most obvious answer---the prop guy with access to switching out the gun.

Also, I have to wonder how the Zombie High Production team handled the footage of the death. I mean...they still need a death scene for the actor right? I'd assume they would digitally create a death scene or not show the shot landing. But interesting to speculate since there's no real answer.

Ugh...I'm not good at Tv blogging. I guess I have no real thoughts on this episode---save for, watch out Blaine!

My recommendation for the week is an indie movie on Netflix...surprise, surprise. It's very interesting though...

The Endless is directed and written by the two men who also star in the film. It revolves around two 20-somethings who escaped a cult 10 years ago, who decide to revisit it. Was the cult actually a harmless utopia or was it everything they were afraid of? Both brothers see it from two different angles, before realizing they have stumbled upon something much larger than the cult itself. That's all I'll say! I was very pleasantly surprised by it. Not many indie films on Netflix have been as watchable as this one.

I guess this counts as fanfiction, but whatever I wrote something.

EDIT: This is Charmed fanfiction, y'all, proceed with caution.

“Listen. He cleared his questioning, I let him go. It would have been unethical to keep him without any charges.” She pleaded her case into her cell phone on a busy New Hampshire street. Her Captain may have been having none of it, but she still knew she was in the right, he’d come round eventually. For now, they would continue a tense phone conversation in which sounds of traffic muffled out his angry tirades.

She took a deep breath, prepared to verbally stand her ground---and her chest filled with fear. She watched in slow motion as her foot hit the ground of the crosswalk and a car came barreling towards her---running the red. She silently pleaded a Hail Mary (it was the only one she remembered) and suddenly----she was on the other side of the car. It raced behind her through to the next street. Her foot landed in the middle of the crosswalk, where she swore she had not been a moment earlier. And she swore she felt the nerve endings in her back tickle. The way they did when someone unexpectedly brushed up against her, or the gentle touch of a lover about to pull her in for a kiss. She felt that tingle in her back, and she dropped her phone to her pocket. Didn’t even bother to hang up, she just let him ramble. She scanned the area with her eyes as her feet found their way to the other side of the street.

She should be shaking, should be confused, concerned she was hallucinating. But this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Neko. She felt like she had been narrowly avoiding disasters for a couple months now. She had nearly gotten her head chopped off by a drone, slipped on a dangerous piece of ice, even avoided bird poop---all without harm, and----right on cue she noticed the shadow. The figure of a woman, long dark hair bouncing as she whipped around a corner. And since Neko had the urge to stay out of the office a little while longer, she followed her. The same woman she had seen several times now, on the periphery of her life. She watched her disappear down an alleyway...and so Neko disappeared down an alleyway 50 feet or so behind.

She was in a horseshoe of brick. Buildings adjacent and connected, making for one big dead end. No fence to climb, no doors or windows in sight. Just bricks. She inspected closer---looking for a brick that looked out of place. Maybe a secret handle or entrance, but there was nothing. She was half tempted to run her fingers across every single one just to be sure, but she felt another presence. A homeless man who had found just the place to pee. After several years now of being a cop, Neko knew when to let parts of this city be, and now was the time to get out of the alleyway and find a way to suck up to her boss.

She opted for a couple macchiatos, something that couldn’t be made at the station’s machine, that way she could make a couple of her co-workers happy on her way to the boss. Yet the prior event kept pulling at the back of her mind. If cosmic forces were keeping her alive, then for what purpose? She was too sympathetic to cut it as a cop, too mild-mannered to face her boss in person. She lived alone with her cat and bought coffee for co-workers who didn’t consider her a friend. Why was her life worth saving? What destiny could someone like her possibly have?

She got as far as the precinct steps before wanting to hide again. Why was she bringing in coffee instead of standing her ground? She wished she could march up to the Captain and tell him he was wrong. She let an innocent man go, she was sure of it. She couldn’t stand the be-suspicious-of-everyone mentality. She wouldn’t adopt it and she wouldn’t live by it. Not that it was doing a whole lot of good...trusting people. Someday it would help her be a good cop, she promised herself. For now it had just meant she dated the wrong women and her coworkers didn’t see her as tough enough. And here she was, bringing them macchiatos instead of apprehending a suspect. Maybe they had a point.

Neko dreamed about the girl. Dreamed she had a name, a type-A personality, a laugh that wasn’t easily learned but well worth it. She dreamed she knew the girl, her idiosyncrasies, her favorite flavor of pie. She dreamed the girl knew her, too. Who knew her brain could invent such fantasies. Such vivid fantasies.

She awoke and summoned up the motivation to get out of bed. She liked being cozy in the covers in dreamland, and wrenching herself out of it, placing her feet on the cold linoleum of the floor was always a rude awakening. She ate a piece of toast and forced herself to have the courage to face her boss.

The Captain invited her into his office, for what she hoped would be a quick conversation. She quickly realized, it would be anything but. He had laid out her case files, reviewed her career. She was too quick to dismiss suspects, always chasing a ghost as he put it. The imaginary perfect scenario that made the sweet people she interviewed free of charges. He thought she wanted to be a hero. She didn’t think of herself that way, but he was right about her not solving cases. He laid each folder in front of her and showed her the evidence that was later used to convict, evidence she had missed or ignored. She wanted to scream. Shouldn’t any good cop look beyond the most obvious answers? Shouldn’t she be thorough and not hasty to lock someone away. In most of her cases, wasn’t she at least halfway right? The hammer did belong to a construction worker, but not the vic’s husband. Those were tire prints but from a possible witness, not the unsub. She was on her way with still just a bit of learning to do. And here he was thinking she was trying to chase ghosts.

That’s when she saw it. Not a ghost, but a girl. THE girl. The one who showed up around danger. She was in the background of a crime scene photo. She shuffled through the pictures in new found interest----she kept seeing her. She could see the soft brown eyes and upturned nose looking straight at the camera, when she had only seen the face turn and run in past encounters. She looked as she did in Neko’s dreams. But that was impossible, right? She must have seen this girl before. Known her in some capacity. High school chem lab, maybe? Some class she never paid attention to. And here she was now, following Neko. Popping up at her crime scenes, whenever she was in danger. Neko remembered the first time she noticed the girl. It was the only time Neko had used her firearm---and she had been so sure she reacted too late. A criminal had turned his own gun towards her---fired---and somehow missed. Neko could still remember pulling her own trigger, sure that it would be her last act, when she should have simply acted sooner. But his bullet missed her miraculously. And hers had landed. Non-fatally, but it was still a shock to injure a person, even if he had intended to end her life. And Neko saw the girl. Saw her whip around and run, so all Neko could see was a blur of dark hair. But she remembered her. Had it been a spark of recognition then or had she just been dizzy with adrenaline?

She was drowning out her captain’s words and she just now started to pay attention to them. She was being reassigned to a different division. Great. They couldn’t officially strip her of her title, but they could make her somebody else’s problem. He made it clear it wasn’t a demotion, but he also made it clear that she hadn’t been making friends here. She was right about everyone thinking she was weak. She brought coffee, let other people solve her crimes, let the boss walk all over her. Maybe she wasn’t tough enough for this after all. So now she would let Crisis Response beat her down. Just as well.

She had entered the room with a box of her things and was met with a flurry of activity. “Put that down and follow me.” The order was barked at her by someone she hadn’t even met yet, a tall gruff looking man. When she didn’t move right away, he frowned, indicated he didn’t have time for this. “Detective Glenn?” She nodded.

“134. You’re riding with me on this one,” He led her to exit the precinct, adding a glance back in her direction as an afterthought. “Atwater.” He motioned to his nametag.

Great. Not even a first name, but at least she was needed somewhere. She wondered how many second chances he would give her. Or if this itself was her only second chance.

Once she joined him in his squad car, he gave her the rundown of the 911 call. It wasn’t much. A woman claimed she was being abducted before the line went dead. They were able to triangulate a location of the phone, however, an abandoned building on 3rd street. The sirens roared as they zipped down the streets. He drove without caution and she feared that might be a bad omen. As they neared the building, he forwent the sirens and slipped into a parking space in front of the building.

He readied his weapon and she did the same. He motioned for her to follow as they creeped through the door. She was silent and ready---until she heard the scream. She had heard the word “blood-curdling” before but never experienced the shrill sound of fear so up close and personal. Not only that, but it spawned another cry---that of an infant. Neko reacted. She sprinted up the stairs, cast all stealth aside before she could stop herself. The man’s yelling set her heart racing, her mind trying to remind her of protocol, but her feet were moving faster than she could think.

She landed on the right floor and followed the voices, the cry of the baby. She came across the woman, tied to a chair. A man with a gun holding the woman’s baby. Yelling at it to be quiet. Neko’s gun trained on his forehead, but she didn’t dare shoot.

“Hand me the baby.”

“No! It’s mine!”

The woman’s sobs grew louder, more desperate. Neko knew she had to help her.

“Don’t shoot him.” She pleaded. “Just get me my baby back.” She dissolved back into tears.

Neko looked from the man, to the baby, to the woman, keeping her gun trained. She was frozen.

“It’s over. Back-up’s on it’s way. They’re going to lock you up, unless you give me the baby.” Atwater emerged from the shadow of a doorway, stealing the man’s attention.

Neko swooped towards the woman, finding the knots to untie in the cord around her.

Atwater approached the man, who was getting nervous, clearly tweaking. This had gone farther than he meant to. Atwater made a show of putting down his own gun and approached the man, who reluctantly handed him the baby. Atwater held it close, comforting---if he had had one goal it had been to rescue the infant, let the tweaker parents hash it out on their own terms.

The man drew his attention back to Neko, her back turned to him, her hands tending to the cord and no longer her gun. He fired, hitting Neko’s right hand. The bullet stung. Crimson blood dripped from her hand and then she felt nothing.

Atwater gestured towards her, baby crying in his arms. “Your hurt, let’s go! Wait for back-up.” Whatever plan Atwater had entered the building with, Neko had shot to pieces, and he was evidently not willing to improvise. He had the baby and that was enough. But not for Neko. That bullet had barely missed the woman, and it had hit her. It struck her that it was the first time she’d ever been shot. There was no mysterious circumstance to keep the bullet from piercing her skin. She had felt it ripple throughout her body as her hand began to throb. There was no way she was picking up the gun. Atwater’s footsteps echoed down the stairs, and the man raised his gun again. This time aimed at Neko’s forehead. Neko could almost see the bullet coming towards her even though it hadn’t left the chamber yet. She had nothing, no gun, no time. There was no one there to save her this time. So she would save her.

Neko charged towards him, every ounce of energy she had propelling her forward. As she reached him, his gun fired one more time, but this time she wasn’t too late. She had knocked his elbow up, his gun towards the ceiling. The bullet finding the rafters, sparing the woman. Neko’s crash continued knocking him backwards towards the gaping window….and through it. He fell backwards, shock in his eyes and arms flailing. Her feet skidded, she tried to maintain her balance, but without success. She watched her body tumble after him before she felt the woosh of the air against her face, her stomach rising to her throat...her body falling through the air towards the ground.

She lamented her life. Her failures. Her loneliness. At least she was dying knowing she had saved someone. Doing the right thing, but maybe not according to protocol.

And then she didn’t hit the ground. It didn’t make any sense, but she seemed to have floated down into the arms---it had to be an angel. Yep, she had died after all and an angel was taking her to---

That face. So familiar, yet so unknown.

“Mel?” Neko found the words coming out of her mouth without knowing why. But the girl smiled at her, with the smile she had seen in her dreams. And her dark hair fell and brushed Neko’s cheek. She had fallen into her arms.

“Neko. I missed you.”

The words didn’t make any sense, but they comforted her. Being in her arms again---again?---wrapped her in a blanket of serenity. Faded the pain from her hand wound out of her mind as well as the worry of the last couple days. Was this real? Was this a dream? Did it matter? The let the girl stroke her cheek as her eyes fluttered closed, from shock? From blood loss? If this was a dream, she prayed she’d never wake up from it.

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