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Green-tipped warrior braids whipped around Nom's head as she rushed between the stove and the counter, making several batches of her famous pastries.
And Ciel was there. Sitting at the table, watching Nom in her usual stupor, staring at her and doing absolutely nothing as Nom labored over the stove.
Nom glanced back at Ciel, scowling. "Jeri, could you help me?"
Ciel jumped a bit, startled, and then looked at the stove. The Stove. "OHHHH no," she yelled, "don't you remember what happened the last time I was asked to help cook?!"
Nom stared at her.
"I lost my HAIR!! You were THERE!!" She paused for a moment, giggling. "That rhymed..."
"Ah," the cook said, nodding.
Ciel's blue-grey eyes glazed over as her mother watched. "I hate that freakin' stove," she said. "I hate it. It needs to die."
Nom stared at her again, shaking her head with a small rustle of braids. "It is a stove, Jeri."
"A damn evil one!" she retorted.
"Come here," Nom said, patting the stove.
Ciel shook her head. "No way in all seven freakin' levels of Hell."
"Did you hear me?" the raven-eyed woman said. "Come. Here," she commanded.
Ciel tore herself off her seat, as excruciatingly slow as possible, crossed her arms, and dragged her feet to The Stove. She stared at Nom, then cocked an eyebrow at The Stove. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stove, I'll never disrespect you again!" she said, sugary-sweet, looking back at Nom with a rebellious grin.
Nom narrowed her eyes. "Fine. Would you like to hit the stove? Would you like to teach it a lesson?"
Ciel nodded vigorously, grabbing the wooden spoon out of Nom's hand. "DIE DIE DIE DIE!" she screamed, gripping the spoon until her knuckles turned while, wildly attacking The Stove and its gas burners.
So involved in this, was she, that she failed to notice her now-lengthy black tresses licking at the blue flames of The Stove.
"Jeri..."
"DIE DIE DIE DIE!"
"Je-ri..."
"DIE DIE DI - WHAT?!" she screamed, turning to Nom. "DON'T INTERRUPT ME!"
"Your hair is on fire," Nom said. "Again."
"HOLY CRAAAAP!" she shrieked, making a mad dash to the sink.
Nom suppressed a grin, walking to the basin and placing a hand on Ciel's shoulder. "It will grow back."
"EEEEE-VIIILL!!!" Ciel screamed through her tears and the sound of running water, her voice echoing in the metal basin. "I hate fire... I hate flames..."
"Have you learned your lesson?" Nom asked, leaning down to her ear.
"Yes," Ciel cried. "Yes!"
Nom nodded. "Respect the stove, and it will respect you." She paused. "And Jeri?"
"W-what?" Ciel nodded, wiping her eyes and lifting her head and its mass of burnt hair out of the basin.
"Do not let Annika cut your hair this time," she said, nodding sagely.
