Date & Time: Dec. 26/27ish?
Location: Peter and Isaac's apartment
Characters: Peter, Isaac, and Ros
Summary: Ros teaches some dumb teenagers how to cook.
Warnings: none besides maybe language?

Peter had given a few people their address, not because he really wanted anybody coming by but because he didn't, and sometimes the surest way to keep people from looking for you was for them to know where you were, at least in theory. And it had been working pretty well thus far.

He hadn't expected the Christmas gifts. Not that he hadn't given a few of his own in similarly surreptitious ways, but the box of kitchen implements had been both confusing and somewhat extravagant. And whoever had given them hadn't even bothered to include a note. Isaac had looked at the assorted pots, pans, and utensils as though they were the components of an arcane ritual, and Peter had just sighed and dusted out the previously unused cabinets to put them in.

They're sitting on the bed, half buried in blankets and sharing the earbuds to Peter's ipod, when there's a knock on the door that makes them both startle. Peter pulls his earbud free, wraps one of the blankets around his shoulders, and shuffles to the door.