the luncheoning (1)

[eyecontact]

Date & Time: somewhere in the week of 10/21, moon-evening
Location: food place cafeteria thing
Characters: Asuka, Jericho
Summary: Girls being waited on by boys
Warnings: p sure everyone'll behave


[what tensions Jericho had in dipping back in time without the know-how of the old Initiative staff is fading as the scent of a familiar dish is soaking the air of the kitchen. at this late hour, he doesn't have to worry about getting in the way of someone much more savvy or, perhaps, impatient to have their turn at a stove. it makes for rather pleasant, focused cooking.

stew, generously peppered with mustard seed. it's been so long that Jericho's already half-eaten the whole thing in his imagination. it just needs a few more minutes to sit and blend properly, he's sure, and it'll be something practically divine.

the spicy, warm smell snakes its way out of the kitchen and into the mess hall proper, hanging like a welcome banner to curious noses and hungry stomachs roaming about.]

Comments

[eyecontact]

[Jericho does a bit of a double-take, blinking with surprise at seeing what he only thought was Asuka...but no, that certainly is her. part of her, anyway.

he shouldn't be surprised, considering how everyone's cooped up in this little base. maybe he should be surprised it's taken him this long to run into her again. or...her run into him, in this case.

he nods his head hello, hands full, shifting aside enough to expose the black pot boiling on the stove.]

[redheadcarrier]

[Asuka eases in the rest of the way and sidles up to the stove to give it a curious look and a sniff. It smells fantastic and her stomach grumbles at the reminder that there's real food and not the canned or dehydrated stuff.]

Where'd you get this stuff?

[She sounds a bit shocked.]

[eyecontact]

[he taps the ladle over the bowl to let dripping broth drop back into the pot before setting it down. he leans further toward the counter, reaching for the pencil laying on his sketchbook; his ingredient list and recipe is scratched out there.

just underneath it, he writes:] Tibet [and taps the page to indicate she move this way and have a look.

some familiar food items -- carrots, some spices...yak meat...]

[redheadcarrier]

You went to Tibet...?

[She almost sounds impressed. She leans over the counter to glance down the list of ingredients. Real meat. And real spices. Her stomach rumbles again.]

It smells awesome!

[eyecontact]

[he smiles small, dipping his head with a meek gesture of thanks, his nose crinkling a little as he's sure, very sure...that was her stomach making noise.

this is unavoidable, isn't it?

his pencil taps with a beat of hesitation. then,]

You can have some if you'd like

[redheadcarrier]

Really? You mean it?

[And her face splits in the biggest smile she's had in a long while.Real food sounds like a treat.]

Just when I was ready to kill for some real food! You're the best!

[eyecontact]

[blinkblink. he nods quickly, looking somewhat surprised. but...that's alright, he supposes. it's nice to help people, after all.

another quick scratch at the page:] 5 more minutes

[he nods certainly at that, giving the dish a glance for a beat before looking back at her. he points past her, up at one of the cabinets where dishes reside.]

[redheadcarrier]

Oh, right, dishes. Give me a sec-

[She leans up and rummages around for a moment before she pulls a couple of bowls down, then goes to grab some silverware.]

I thought I was going to go crazy living on the stuff they called food...

[eyecontact]

[his nose crinkles a little with his smile, nodding in agreement. the freeze-dried stuff here? it got old real fast.

he keeps stirring a bit after the burner is clicked off, himself rather eager to have at it already. but -- patience. he's not a brilliant chef by most any standards, but he knows food tastes better when it's not going to scald you.

he does a glance left and right, wondering if he ought to move the pot now that it's done, but doesn't see any great spot to put it. nobody's on their way in to cook in a hurry, anyway. so, reaching past Asuka for dishes, he pours one and two, setting each on the counter on the other side. he gestures for her to grab one while he cleans up a little.]

[redheadcarrier]

[Asuka plops herself down at the counter with a grin, rolling a spoon between her fingers. Her mouth is watering already and she can practically taste the spices already. Sure, she doesn't like relying on people, but if she's lucked into free food, she's not going to turn it down. Not when the alternative is cardboard. She lifts a spoonful of the stew and blows on the mouthful to cool it before taking a bite.

It's glorious, after a few weeks of eating canned and processed food. She makes a small noise of culinary bliss before she mumbles around the mouthful of food:]

It's good!

[eyecontact]

[he winces, worried she's going to burn her tongue, but it's too late to wave for her to stop.

it makes her exclamation more of a surprise. his eyebrows raise, incredulous. good? really? he's not a bad cook, of course, but...he's never cooked for anyone but himself, so Asuka's the first to really put in her two cents.

he brightens, smiling a small, but pleased smile. it's a relief; he has no idea what he'd have done if she'd have spat it all out.]

[redheadcarrier]

[Asuka bolts down another spoonful and then has to slow herself down, if only because it's hot and she can't really afford to blister her tongue right now. She's got a giant grin on her face though and she can feel her mood improving by the second.]

So, you can cook, fight, and you're a musician - I bet you're popular.

[eyecontact]

[his face starts to grow pink(er) and he ducks his head shyly, shaking it.]

[redheadcarrier]

What, you mean the girls aren't falling over themselves to get at you?

[Not that Asuka is. But she's also teasing (mostly).]

[eyecontact]

[his head shakes more vigorously – definitely not! – his nose crinkling, like he's laughing it off, but dang if he isn't tomato red.

he shifts his focus to his stew, swirling the spoon for a good chunk and slurping it before blowing on it – a terrible mistake that leaves him grimacing, face contorting against the heat.

he coughs as it goes down, eyes watering.]