Sixth Floor Kitchen, Saturday Morning

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

So George didn't really have a lot of skills that were any use in a crisis. Not really -- he wasn't a fighter, and while he could do research, he wasn't sure what he knew already would be of any use. (Except for those several languages, but regardless.)

What George did feel comfortable doing was cooking. Cooking lots of things. Soup, stew, pasta, casseroles... There were three different things in the oven at the moment, and two more in pots on top of the stove.

He turned when there was a soft laugh from the entrance to the kitchen. "Looks like you had the same idea I did," said the newcomer. "Cooking for the researchers?"

"And the people in town hall, yeah," George confirmed. "Look, there's always room for one more. I'm George. George Sands."

The other boy -- who, George realised, was carrying a box with him -- came over and set it down on the counter in the one bit of free space. "Eric van der Woodsen," he offered in return, reaching over to shake George's hand. "I figured it couldn't hurt to do some baking, at least." And he pulled a waffle-iron out of the box because I can't resist a running gag.

"Baking's good!" George agreed. "Why don't you handle that while I handle soups, then? And we should make-"

"Oi, what's this, then?" Another person interrupted at the doorway.

"We're cooking for the researchers," Eric explained to the tall and devilishly handsome man. "And the clinic workers in the town hall."

A grin broke out on the man's face, and he tossed a bag over to each of them. "Saves me doing it myself, then. Ronan Nolan, I'm one of those clinic workers. Fill the bags with whatever you've got, they should hold it all. Bigger on the inside."

George opened the bag he'd caught and reached in. He could just barely feel the bottom with the tips of his fingers. "Won't they spill? Or get jostled?" Ronan shook his head.

"Whatever's in there will stay upright. The space inside the bag doesn't move; the bag's kind of a doorway to a bit of pinched-off space elsewhere." Ronan turned on his heel and waved over his shoulder. "I'm off to the town hall. I can't wait 'til you bring that stuff by, it smells fantastic!"

George and Eric shared a long look before shrugging and getting to work on the food.

[George and Eric poke-able, food for sharing now, too, if you have a character who wants something!]

Comments

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

"Why am I not surprised to find you up here?" Jen said, more in the direction of her roommate.

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

"... Because you know that I like to cook?" George hazarded. "Hey, Jen."

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

"Hey. Thanks again for letting me take over the room last night," she said.

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

"You make it sound sordid!" George grinned. "I hope you had fun?"

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

Jen laughed. "Yes. My tea parties are just fronts for my sordid affairs," she said.

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

George grabbed a sausage roll from where they were cooling, placed it on a napkin, and offered it to Jen. "Good to know," he said. "Hungry?"

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

"Oooh, nice," Jen said, taking it. "Thanks. I've been burning a lot of calories, lately."

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

"Oh, because of your... Thing?"

Way to be specific, George.

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

"Well, it's not my sordid tea parties," Jennifer joked.

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

George grinned. "I get the same way," he admitted. "Well, a little. Around... y'know."

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

Jennifer nodded. "Do you have to, like, carb up around that time?"

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

"More the protein, actually," George explained. "Mostly red meat." He frowned a bit, turning back to his cooking. "It's carbs for you?"

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

"Not really," Jennifer said. "I just like cake."