4th Floor Common Room [Friday Late Morning]

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Angela wasn't a big chef. Or one at all, actually. But she had a sudden craving for some sort of brunch this morning, so she was in the common room making pancakes.

Okay they were microwave pancakes, but they were pancakes none the less. They still tasted good, and smelt even better, and that was good enough for her.

[[ooc: It's a common room, do I really have to say it's open?]]

Comments

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"It says so on the packet," Angela replied, vaguely indicating it. "I'm just following instructions here."

"You want to be guinea pig?" she offered.

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"What if I die?" he teased.

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"Would I really feed you things that would kill you?" Angela asked, shooting him a mock pout. "What kind of roommate do you take me for?"

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"One who maybe wants the entire room to herself," he said and smirked.

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Angela shrugged, considering that one. He did have a point.

"It wouldn't be half as fun without you. Consider yourself lucky," she said, smiling at him.

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"Or half as pretty," he said and flopped down on the couch. "Pancake me, then."

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Angela smirked, that was also very true.

"Maple syrup, okay?" she asked as she pulled the plate of pancake out of the microwave, and replaced it with another.

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"Is it homemade?" He knew it wasn't.

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Angela eyed the bottle a moment. "Sure." No, it definitely wasn't.

Well, if he was really looking for homemade food, he came to the wrong girl. She ended up eating a lot of Chinese take out.

She wandered over with the plate and the syrup. "If by 'homemade' you mean mass produced and sold in stores across the country."

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"Oh, bother," he said, taking the plate with a smile. "I only eat homemade, made from scratch stuff."

Which was a HUGE lie.

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"Shame," Angela said with a grin, making a move to take that not homemade from scratch stuff back to the kitchen area.

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"Hey hey!" He moved the plate out of reach. "I can make exceptions!"

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"Somehow thought that might be the case," Angela said with a laugh, going back over to find her own food.

"Very predictable," she teased.

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"You like me anyway," he said, taking a bite of the surprisingly good pancakes. "What made you wanna cook this morning?"

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"You're actually calling this attempt cooking?" Angela said with a laugh. "I just wanted sugar, mostly."

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"Well, you heated something up so it qualifies in my book," he said. "You could have gone for candy for sweets, though."

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"Seemed healthier," she said, drizzling copious amounts of syrup on her 'healthy' pancake. "Very, very slightly," she amended.

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"This is like soft, round candy," he argued. "It just looks healthier because there's no chocolate in it."

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"Ruining my healthy pancake image here," Angela warned, making her way over to settle on the other end of the couch. "That's just mean."

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"If you wanted healthy pancakes, you should have left off the yummy yummy syrup," he said. "Or made pancakes out of celery."

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"Who says these aren't?" Angela pointed out, grinning as she dug in.

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"Because celery is green and these pancakes aren't," he said logically.

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Angela shrugged, "They can do some amazing things with food coloring."

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"Yeah, but I think that actually requires some actual cooking and not just nuking a few pancakes," he joked.

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"Are you taking back your assessment of this as cooking?" Angela asked. "I'm hurt. Really."

Yeah, she wasn't.