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Burnt Ovens and Macaroons

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  Jean Bart practically screeched.


  “Yes, I’m coming already!” Came her response, as Eliza simultaneously tried her fastest to get to the foredeck whilst lugging a pair of fire extinguishers.


  A backtrack to events prior will show how the pair had ended up in this situation.


  It had started with a side question a week ago.


  They were snuggled up on the couch, scrolling around for something to watch. Eliza had offhandedly mentioned a craving off Pancakes and Jean Bart had taken this as an opportunity to surprise her.


  And surprise her she did...a couple of singed hairs and Pancakes that resembled rocks in color.


  So throughout the week, under Eliza’s guidance, Jean’s cooking would steadily go from unrecognizable to acceptable. They had of course continued to bond throughout this.


  Of course, the French Battleship had wished to do something on her own, that something happened to be baking chocolates, though she didn’t explicitly tell, in the tradition of Valentine’s, and as a measure of how she had progressed.


  Of course, Eliza would never say no to her wife, nonetheless, she agreed and even helped her set up.


  She herself would be making Macaroons.


  They had agreed to utilize the foredeck of the...the actual Jean Bart, but to put up a divider to ensure the secrecy of what the other was making.


  It would also come to become beneficial when a panicked scream from Jean Bart’s side confirmed Eliza’s worst fears. Taking a quick look at the situation, she had Jean Bart stay put for the moment whilst she looked for the Fire extinguisher.


  And thus they were now in the current situation.


  “Out of my way,” Eliza said as she aimed and then pressed the trigger, the extinguisher spewing out foam.


  “You alright?” She asked after putting out the fire and the oven, turning to Jean.


  Jean Bart for her part was pouting, arms crossed and eyes glossy.


 “Hey, talk to me,” Eliza said, closing the distance between the two of them.


  Jean held eye contact for a couple of seconds, her lips trembled momentarily, and then she bawled, swamping Eliza in her arms.


  Now Eliza, being nearly half a foot shorter than Jean Bart, got a good view of the battleship’s cleavage.


  Making a mental note to use that later for potential teasing, Eliza returned the embrace, soothingly rubbing her back.


  They lingered like that for some time, the only sounds being the crashing of waves against the hull and seashore along with the sobs of Jean Bart.


  “Why can't I do anything right” She grumbled, while her cries had stopped at this point, her tears continued to cascade down her cheeks.


  “Shhh, it was an honest mistake, m'kay?” Eliza said, continuing to comfort the Battleship.




  “No buts, I won't hear any of it” 


  It was only shortly after this, did a set of beeps alerted Eliza and she had Jean Bart follow to her side.


  “What're you making?” Jean asked, looking inquisitively to Eliza's workstation.


  Carefully taking the tray out with a mittened hand, she presented it to Jean Bart.


  “Macaroons!” She exclaimed.


  “Ooo, those look good,” Jean said, eyeing the tray.


  “Hopefully they live up to those standards...they're still a bit hot though,” Eliza said.


  “They can't be that hot” Jean said and took one of the Macaroons in her hand, and nearly dropped the thing.


  “...Alright we'll wait then” She conceded.


  It only took a few minutes for the pastries to cool down, much to their benefit.


  “Mmm, these are so good!” Jean Bart exclaimed as her eyes lit up.


  “Heh, thanks to that you like,” Eliza said, also taking one for herself.


  “By any chance, do you have some more I could give to Richy?” Jean asked.


  “Yeah, there’s another tray inside, heck, tell Richelieu to give some to Dunkerque,” Eliza said and soon, the oven dinged once more, signaling the other tray was complete.


  The pair continued to have their mid-afternoon snack until the late afternoon set in and by then it was getting quite hot.


  Throwing a tarp over her cooking station Eliza took one of the trays, Jean Bart with the other, into the superstructure of the battleship where conditions were cooler.


  “So, have you heard the news of several Siren units surrendering?” Eliza asked.


  Jean Bart very much looked the part of not being updated on the current events.


  “Yeah, it’s recent as well, several Battleships with escorts surrendered to the British” Eliza explained.


  “So this means we’re getting closer to victory” Jean mused.


  “Mhmm, which means closer to finally settle down with you,” Eliza said, Jean’s cheeks now a healthy shade of red.


  “I...hadn’t given that much thought” The battleship admitted sheepishly.


  Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, Eliza continued, “We’ll face it when we get there”


  The two then curled up on the couch of the primary lounge, popping Macaroons in each other’s mouth as the sun light’s color or changed to hazy orange.


  “Love you” Jean Bart murmured, nuzzling Eliza.


  “Love you too” Came her reply.




  Hours Later,


  “Urgh, what time is it?” Eliza asked. The last thing she remembered was burying her face into Jean Bart’s hair.


  “Hey, Jean...oh” She was about to ask her wife, if it wasn’t for the light snore that cut her off.


  The Battleship had retained her nuzzling position and seemed to have drifted off to sleep, thus pinning Eliza in her seat.


  Gently moving her hand, she stroked the silky, light brown hair, running her fingers in between.


  She was doing it in such a way that wouldn’t disturb Jean but she stirred nonetheless.


  “Mm, did we end up sleeping?” Jean Bart asked, wiping out her eyes.


  “Seems to be the case” Eliza responded.


  “Can we continue?” Jean Bart asked, looking up at her.


  “...Don’t you want to at least continue in bed?” Eliza provided, and Jean considered this.


  “Good point,” She said and stood up, returning the blood to the rest of Eliza’s body.


  “Do you want to give your sister the Macaroons today or tomorrow?” She asked.


  “I think we should today, you did make these on Valentine's,” Jean Bart responded, picking the now packed pastries.


  The pair stepped off the Battleship and made their way through the naval base. While the evening had just set in, the base was still alight with activity, as girls ran around, giving last-minute gifts,  both to fellow shipgirls and to their Admiral, and Idols continued their Valentine’s performance.


  Eventually, the couple found the dorm for the French battle line. 


  Knocking, they were greeted with Richelieu in a form-fitting dress.


  “Ah, Admiral, sister, I wasn't expecting you two,” She said, properly surprised.


  “Heh, we came to drop our Valentine’s Day gift,” Eliza said, handing her the bag containing the Macaroons.


  “You didn’t have to, I’ll have them when I get back,” Richelieu said, accepting the gift.


  “If I may ask, where are you going?” Jean Bart inquired, she hadn’t known that her sister had a date.


  “ Apparently , I was set up by Algerie, Dunkerque, and Bearn…” She said, her face slightly scowling.


  “Ohhhh, if that’s the case, you’re coming straight to our room later and telling everything, ” Jean Bart said, snickering.


  “...I guess,” Richelieu said, shrugging.


  “We’ll be on our way now though, so that you can get ready,” Eliza said.


  “Yeah, see you two later?” Richelieu confirmed.




  And after bidding a goodbye wave, the two now turned around and headed back to their place.


  Upon reaching their shared dorm. Jean Bart kicked off her boots, waltzed straight to the bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed.


  “I didn’t think you’d be this tired” Eliza joked, entering the room shortly after.


  “Hey, trying something without your guidance plus sudden fire sap my energy” Jean Bart chided, voice muffled by the pillow.


  “Fair, you want me to join you?”




  While they didn’t end up sleeping, they engaged in what could be only described as a cuddling session.


  As Jean Bart breathed the sweet aroma of Eliza’s hair, she just realized that she had almost forgotten to give her actual gift.


  Turning around and grabbing a box under the bed, she pulled it up and revealed it to Eliza.


  “Open it” She urged, handing her the parcel.


  Doing as she was told, Eliza immediately lost the ability to speak when she saw what was inside.


  A pair of framed pictures, one of their very first date, and the other of the day of their wedding.


  “Happy Valentine’s,” Jean said.


  “It’s fucking beautiful, how did you even get the first one…” Eliza said, pulling the battleship into an embrace.


  “I have my ways,” Jean said, returning the embrace.


  “Thank you, thank you so much,” Eliza said, a couple of tears escaping her dam.


  “Your welcome, Happy Valentine’s again”


  “Happy Valentine’s to you too”