by pebble/scifipony
Fandom: ER
Characters: John Carter, Kerry Weaver
Words: 1,782
Tags: Friendship, Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort Food, Baking
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Originally posted to SquidgeWorld on Oct 24, 2024. Written for Flufftober.
This is set early to mid season 5, not long after Carter moved in with Kerry. I just finished rewatching seasons 5-7 and was struck again by how genuinely sweet the relationship between Kerry and Carter is during those seasons especially. He brings out a nurturing, caring side to Kerry that we don't normally get to see. I really love how she and Mark acted as sort of surrogate parents to Carter throughout the show.
Carter stepped out of the bathroom, running a towel through his wet hair. He was immediately greeted by the sound of his roommate’s music player going a bit too loud again. And, a more pleasant greeting, the aroma of something sweet baking in the oven.
Working at the kitchen island, Kerry glanced up with a smile of greeting — one that quickly morphed into amusement when she caught sight of him.
“What?” he asked curiously.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I guess I’m still not used to seeing you looking so casual.”
Carter glanced down at his jeans and old college hoodie. He supposed it was a far cry from the formal attire he typically wore at work. Still, he’d always preferred casual clothes when not on duty, and Kerry had repeatedly insisted that he should make himself feel at home here.
“I could say the same about you,” he joked lightly, gesturing at her t-shirt and sweatpants.
“Yeah, well, it’s been one of those kind of days.” At his questioning glance, she clarified, “The kind where you either need to finish it off with soft clothes and comfort food, or head straight to the nearest bar.”
Well, that was a feeling he knew all too well. Maybe not the bar part — he’d never been a heavy drinker — but the sentiment was more than familiar to him.
As if reading his thoughts, Kerry smiled in sympathy. “You, too, huh?”
“You could say that,” Carter said neutrally. He let out a tired a sigh as he settled onto one of the stools across the island from her.
“Need to talk about it?”
Various unpleasant images flitted through his mind from the double shift he’d left only an hour ago. The drowned toddler he hadn’t been able to save, the elderly patient he’d had to deliver a terminal diagnosis to, the sixteen year old girl who was most likely going to run away again as soon as CPS placed her in another home. And then there was his infuriating med student; he truly believed Lucy was capable of being an amazing doctor, if only she would be a little less focused on always needing to be right all the time and a little more focused on actually trying to learn anything during her training.
But it wasn’t as if talking about his day would make any of it less frustrating to deal with in the morning. If anything, it would probably only serve to further spoil his mood. And it wasn’t as if they didn’t all face those exact same scenarios every week. It came with the job.
“No thanks,” he said. “The last thing I want to be thinking about right now is the hospital.”
Kerry nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. They’d all been there. “In that case,” she told him, “I need you to grab a bowl and get to work.”
Leaning as far to the left as possible, Carter managed to snag an empty mixing bowl off the counter without vacating his seat. Dropping it onto the island in front of him, he asked, “What exactly are we making?”
“Funnel cake.”
“Funnel cake?”
“What? You’ve never had it before?”
“Sure, at fairs and carnivals,” he said with a laugh. “I just never pictured it as something you’d make in your own kitchen.”
Kerry scoffed, measuring some flour into another mixing bowl. “The funnel cakes you find at Midwest fairs aren’t as good as the real thing. My mom was Pennsylvania Dutch and she used to make these for me all the time when I was a kid. Here, grab a whisk and you can mix the wet ingredients while I finish measuring this.”
Carter dutifully retrieved the utensil and set to work. He’d never been very handy in the kitchen, but he was slowly picking up a few things thanks to Kerry’s teachings.
“So, is that why you love cooking so much?” he asked. “Because of your mom?”
She didn’t answer right away and Carter worried he might have crossed into a touchy area. Before moving in, Kerry had never shared anything about her personal life with him — or with anyone, from what he’d heard around the hospital. When she’d told him about being adopted a few weeks ago, he’d been surprised and touched that she had felt comfortable sharing that with him. He didn’t know how Kerry viewed her adoptive parents, but she seemed to genuinely miss them.
Just as he was about to apologize for overstepping, she answered:
“Yeah. She was one of those people who believed that everything can be cured with some home cooked food.” A faint, nostalgic smile crossed her face as she added, “I used to be a terror in the kitchen, but she was always so patient. She kept insisting that being able to cook is not only a necessary skill for everyone to learn, but can help make life a little more easy to get through.”
“She was right,” Carter sighed, feeling a familiar pang of envy. As much fun as he always had assisting Kerry on these little culinary adventures, he sometimes wondered what it would have been like to experience this with his own mother, the way Kerry had with hers.
Shaking off the painful what-ifs, he continued, “I definitely could have used some of her training. Sadly, another thing I inherited from my parents is being useless in the kitchen. The only thing I can manage is scrambled eggs.”
Kerry smirked at him. “I’ve tasted your eggs, Carter. I wouldn’t count them among your list of talents.”
He stuck his tongue out at her jokingly, and she responded with a laugh and an eye roll. Her laughs were always heartwarming in an unexpected way. Carter was sure he’d never heard her laugh — and rarely seen her smile — before moving in with her. Kerry obviously had a gentler side that she kept carefully hidden away from the world, and he felt honored to be allowed to see it in moments like this.
“Alright,” Kerry said, setting back to business. “Pass me your bowl so I can combine these together.”
He did as requested, and Kerry carefully mixed the two sets of ingredients until it reached the desired texture.
“Now what?” he asked curiously.
“I already prepped the oil, so now we pour our cakes. I’m going to divide this into three small cakes instead of one, so we can do a bunch of different toppings.”
Carter knew better than to volunteer to pour the batter after watching Kerry do the first one. It looked like a process that would be way too easy to mess up.
“You can help with the next step,” she promised, apparently agreeing with his unspoken decision.
They set a timer and set to work tidying up the island. When the time was up, Kerry whipped out a large metal utensil. It looked almost like a slotted spoon, except it was too flat and wide. Kerry demonstrated how to flip the cakes before letting Carter try one. He surprised himself by pulling off the maneuver on his first try. Surprisingly, not even the oil splashed too much during it.
“Not bad,” Kerry nodded in approval.
Carter grinned proudly at the praise, only to cover it with a fake cough almost immediately. Maybe there wasn’t any need to feel embarrassed around Kerry, but he still felt a bit silly. He was sure most people could receive mild encouragement from their mentors without getting so touched by it.
Whether she sensed what he was feeling or not, Kerry offered him a soft smile and a pat on the arm before turning the last of the cakes.
“Now we let those finish cooking while we get everything set up for the finishing touches.”
It only took them a few minutes to set out a large serving plate and a whole array of potential toppings.
“Cinnamon?” Carter questioned. “I’ve never heard of cinnamon on funnel cakes.”
“In that case, you definitely need to try one that way,” Kerry said. “Here, put these paper towels on the plate to catch the extra oil.”
Before long, they had three perfectly golden funnel cakes resting on the plate, ready for the toppings. Kerry handed Carter the cinnamon and brown sugar, with instructions to sprinkle them over one of the cakes. In the meantime, she opened a can of apple pie filling and scooped a generous amount onto one of the other cakes, finishing it off with a caramel drizzle. The last cake remained plain with a thin dusting of powdered sugar.
“That one is going to get jealous of the others,” Carter joked.
“I always do one traditional style,” Kerry told him. “You get the full funnel cake flavor this way.” She wiped her hands on a towel and gave a satisfied nod at the treats spread out in front of them. “C’mon. Grab the plate and some forks, and I’ll grab the wine.”
Carter glanced around the messy kitchen with an eyebrow raised questioningly. It wasn’t like Kerry to leave it in this state.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I work a late shift tomorrow; I can take care of this in the morning.”
“You’re leaving a mess in the kitchen?” Carter said, voice pitched up in mock disbelief. “Who are you and what have you done with Kerry Weaver?”
A wry smile tugged at her lips. “Some days, you just have to leave the dirty dishes where they are, Carter.”
“If that was a metaphor, I didn’t follow it,” he said, though he happily grabbed up their late night snack and followed her out. Getting out of doing the dishes was more than okay with him.
They settled onto the couch with the plate of cakes between them. Kerry poured them each a glass of wine. While she retrieved the TV remote, Carter set to work cutting each of the fried treats in half.
“Cheesy romcom or outdated detective noir?” she asked, turning on the TV.
Carter hummed in thought as he considered. “Romcom. I need to feel exasperated in a good way.”
She nodded in understanding. Flipping through the channels, it didn’t take her long to find one playing an old romantic comedy with appropriately corny writing. They settled in with their drinks and snacks as the movie played, frequently talking over it to poke fun at the ridiculously contrived plot or overly dramatic dialogue.
Tomorrow, they’d once again have to face their jobs and the horrors of the County General ER. But, tonight, they could let it all go for a few hours. And Carter was never more grateful to have Kerry as his roommate.
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