sixwordstories | (no subject)

They all look so tempting, don't they?

[So serious today, short-stack. Is he allowed to ruffle your hair to snap you out of it?

Safe than sorry dictates that a nudge of his elbow to her shoulder as he slips past is probably better. Tell an old man what the pantry's done now, Leigh.]

Too tempting. How's a body supposed to pick just one?

[The lack of ruffling would be appreciated were she aware of it. As it is, she half-turns to try and recognise who it is and grants him a smile.] H'llo. Whatcha doing in the kitchen? If you wanted anything cinnamon-y, someone's taken it.

[Hence the daggers. What alternate recipe might be used from the available is a difficult choice.]

[He isn't, of course. Cinnamon-y usually implies sugar-y, and that's never been his course of action. Still, he'll pause properly a moment, give the shelves a brief inquisitive glare of his own.

Huh. No cinnamon. Odd. That can have an actual brief frown.]

/How long?/ [And, to clarify, out comes the phone.] Has it been missing, I mean?

[There's a small frustrated huff as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.] I checked this morning to be sure there'd be enough, and there was plenty. So, sometime since then.

[A light pat on the back of the head--affectionate in the familiar standoffish way--is surely more acceptable than a head-pat would have been.]

Is anyone going into Town this afternoon? Bet they could find you some.

[That has her brightening considerably more.] Yeah, they could. Or if not I'll just find someone to run errands for and grab it on my way. Thanks.

[And now that the problem is solved, she'll look at him inquisitively.] So why're you here?

[Cadogan Thomas: solver of minor inconveniences for young ladies and blandest superhero in the history of the world.]

Poking for something to nibble and call 'lunch.'

[Ducking Sophie and Adrien (and, sometimes, Leigh) about his food intake was one thing. His mother? Had more of a Way about her.]

[Really. Really. It's probably some breach of etiquette to correct his words, but Leigh is tugging his phone out of his hand gently.]

Poking for something to eat and call 'lunch.'

There, I fixed it.

[Nibbling. Huh.]

[She's completely trusted with his (brightly emblazoned) phone. She's also getting an arch look when she hands it back.]

Mincing words.

It's not a proper complete'n filling meal if you don't eat all of it.

And if I eat all of a bag of popcorn, will that be sufficient?

Not for your nutrish'nal requirements, but your stomach'd be happy.

[Well. Hers would be, in comparison.]

[Objectively, he's much taller. He's much stronger. He's ranked much above her. There's no objective reason for quiet disapproval on her face to compel him to do anything at all.

And yet.]

Would a sandwich cover both?

[Well. It might, but he's tricky when it comes to food.] Depends. What's going in it?

[Pause.

You know, Leigh. Sandwich things?]

Meat?

[That's a sandwich thing, right?]

And? [Come on. A sandwich isn't a sandwich without at least two ingredients besides bread.]

[..."and bread" is the wrong answer. He knows this. Let him have a try.]

Mustard?

That's a condiment.

[Just. Such scorn, sir.]

[She could just tell him the right answer. Surely that would be better than watching this floundering.]

Cheese.

[Bread, meat, mustard, cheese. Surely, madam, this is a sandwich.]

[Hmm. There aren't any greens in that.] Throw in some lettuce and that's just fine.

[...because he totally knows where the lettuce is.

...and the bread.

...damn it.]

[Oh, Mr Cadogan. She can so clearly see why Mrs Thomas despairs.

Here. Lunch for two, with extra tomatoes.]

I believe this is all done on purpose. And I could always help by picking one for myself.

[What. He is a grown man. He can feed himself.

Or he can chop tomatoes quietly for her because in this regard she is clearly the expert.]

[She grins at the man in his memorable outfit.] That would be just great! You pick first, then.

[She has hopes that someday he'll be a grown man who can feed himself meals that don't make his mother and Sophie and Adrien and herself want to tear their hair out. Someday.

Until then, supervision.]

[And then she'll eat with him, yes or yes. Because then it can sneakily all be a ploy to spend a little time with the coolest kid he knows.]

[Absolutely yes. Lunch is always good with the ~~quietest~~ ~~somehow most ridiculous~~ generally most thoughtful adult she knows.]