but oh what a year

[patrols]

Comments

[thirtysix]

Thank you.

[He can't help but smirk a little as he moves back to the stove to start plating dishes.]

That's a good pie.

[fifthbase]

It's from Germany. The perks of not being tethered to one place or time.

( One place, really, but it's nice to boast and exaggerate.

She sets the bottle down and moves behind him at the stove, taking in the scents. His, and the food. )

Smells delectable.

[thirtysix]

Almost done.

[It felt better than saying thank you again. He catches the edges of her perfume and knows how close she is, so he reaches for a clean spoon nearby, taking a scoop of the sauce and holding it out to her.]

Taste?

[As a preview of what they will be eating shortly.]

[fifthbase]

I'm a patient girl.

( She's a woman who's waited hundreds of years in some cases. Crinkling her nose, her eyes light up as her heels clack to the side. She uses one hand to brace against the counter. )

Always.

[thirtysix]

[He passes the spoon over to her, either giving her the option to take the spoon, or to taste right from his hand. The sauce is a mix of flavors, spinach, garlic, Parmesan cheese, and sun-dried tomatoes, all intended to pair well with the steak, vegetables and twice-baked potatoes.]

What do you think?

[fifthbase]

( Hand, obviously. She hold his wrist, keeps eye contact, and tastes the sauce right along his hand. )

I think why haven't we done this before now?

( She does grab a nearby napkin, to wipe the rest of the sauce from his hand. )

It's good. And it should compliment the steak nicely, which also smells heavenly.

[thirtysix]

Stubbornness, probably.

[Mostly on his part. But they're doing it now, so that should be what matters.

He places the spoon in the sink, intentionally brushing past her as he does.]

Besides, if we'd done it before, you might be bored of me by now.

[fifthbase]

Abernathy, do you think me that fickle?

( She is, he knows it. It's not the wealth that attracts her to him, or a particular gentlemanly quality, it's the sheer manness. Masculinity has always done it for her.

Money, too. But, pish. )

[thirtysix]

I think you are a woman who stays true to her whims.

[He smirks back at her, before the timer goes off for the potatoes and he reaches to pull them out of the oven.]

And in my experience, women with whims enjoy a little bit of a chase.

[fifthbase]

And is that what you are? Merely a whim of mine?

( Until the wind blows her in another direction? She checks him out as he bends over, shameless. )

Then, I must congratulate you on quite a chase indeed.

( The joke is, she pursued him. )

[thirtysix]

You tell me.

[He assumes he's a whim, which is why he kept the chase going for so long. But if he's changed into something more solid, he'd be open to discussing it.

But with that, he will finish plating the dishes and bring them over to the table.]

All the more reason to celebrate with a good meal.

[fifthbase]

That feels more like after dinner conversation, but we can discuss all of our options. Over dessert.

( She takes the decanter and two glasses and brings them over to the table behind him, busying herself. )

But, you and I do seem to be thinking along the same lines, Mr. Abernathy.

[thirtysix]

Glad to hear it.

[He moves them to the table, placing a plate down in front of her before settling with his own.]

If that is after dinner conversation, what shall we talk about during dinner?

[fifthbase]

What you're working on. Where you've come from. Why, in pooling our schedules, we both found light on this day.

( Of all days. And dig in daintily, she does. )

[thirtysix]

Well, my son happens to be in another state and all of my direct underlings are busy with their own holidays or covering certain lines of business. I could go missing without too much concern.

[Christmas will do that. It's usually one of the slower days.]

And when I'm looking to wine and dine someone, I prefer not to have other expectations on my time.

[fifthbase]

Let's both discourage that kind of talk. Putting 'going missing' out into the universe never ends well. We can just call it a Lost Weekend. Sounds more romantic that way.

( Also like literature. )

You are indeed. Wining and dining. I'm impressed.

[thirtysix]

Thank you.

[This is something he does take pride in.]

It was just me and Alexander for a long time, and someone had to feed us. Found that I rather liked it, though.

[fifthbase]

I tried cooking for one of my boyfriends in the 1900's. I couldn't be fussed. And, the bloody patriarchy. ( It didn't make it any more appealing. ) I managed when Fergus was a young boy, but back then everything went into a stew. Now, there's finesse involved and nitrogen and special knives. Besides, I much like being wined and dined.

( They are adults here, so she does have to pose a question. Or, else, a musing. )

You've never talked about her? Alexander's mother.

[thirtysix]

It was almost thirty years ago.

[He's mourned and moved on. There's no need to speak of her to anyone other than Alexander. There aren't a lot of people who knew her, really, anymore.]

I loved her, and I miss her, but ... I've been without her for more years than I was with her at this point.

[Which possibly sounds cold, but he thinks that Rowena might understand.]

[fifthbase]

There is no use dwelling.

( And she will clink her glass to his, as she continues to enjoy this delectable meal across from a delectable man. )

Are you perhaps older than you let off?

[thirtysix]

I'll take that as a compliment.

[That he looks good for his age as a well-seasoned man in his fifties.]

But I was twenty when we had Alex.

[fifthbase]

Now, now, there are all manner of witches. I know I don't look a day over three hundred.

( Now, yes, this is fishing. )

[thirtysix]

No, you do not. In fact, I'd say your far more well-preserved than I am.

[If he didn't know better, he'd think she was younger than him by a good decade.]

[fifthbase]

You say the most romantic things. But, perhaps, we should shy away from terms that make me sound like a corpse.

( Or like she's just come out of the morgue. )

[thirtysix]

[He holds up his hands.]

Mea culpa. I am a little rusty.

[Not thirty years rusty, but it has been a little while since his last partner.]