geeky_agent | (no subject)

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(no subject)

From here.

June 19, 2011

Still half-asleep, Chris rolled over, trying to move a little farther from the sunshine steaming though the window.

The apartment was quiet and she snuggled down in the covers, ready to sleep some more till a thought pushed through her mind. Jack's here. She opened her eyes, blinking, and for a second the night before seemed like a dream.

But she knew it wasn't and wondering if he was still here, she got out of bed, threw her robe on and tiptoed into the living room. Jack was still asleep on the couch, Coco had parked herself near his feet and raised a lazy head to look at Chris.

Without waking him, Chris crept back into her room. First, a shower then the store.

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"Yeah," he says, walking into the kitchen and yawning. He's ignoring the part where it took him a few hours to finally fall asleep. "I didn't even hear you get up. How did you sleep?"

She sets the plate on the table, shrugging. "Tossed and turned a bit. Woke up early and decided it was time to restock the fridge."

"Well unless you wanted pizza and beer for breakfast, yeah," he says, giving her a teasing smile as he sits down.

"I've done it before," she admits, taking a sip of her coffee. "Well, not the beer part."

"Well the cold pizza part isn't too out there. I'd hope not the beer part, though, yeah." He pours himself a glass of orange juice, a slightly out-of-body feeling coming over him. Just sitting down to breakfast, like anything about this situation was normal.

"Mmm, this smells good."

"Tastes even better," she quips before take a bite of the bacon.

It was strange, sitting down to have breakfast with him, after all the time that had passed and everything that happened. The date only added to the surreal feeling.

"That it does," he says with a mouth full of eggs. "You didn't need to go to this much trouble."

She smiles, popping a piece of cantalope in her mouth. "It's no trouble," she says with a shrug, "haven't had much chance to cook or eat at home recently."

"Well from the glimpse I had in your fridge, that isn't all that surprising."

"Not much you can do with olives and some beer." Though there's probably a recipe out there somewhere that combines the two.

"There's probably a lot yhou can do, you just need more than just the olives and the beer. Otherwise it's just...beer-soaked olives."

"Just like mom used to make."

"What, that wasn't a family favourite around your house too?"

She takes a sip of her orange juice and wrinkles her nose. "It sounds like one of those college experiments in food. Like Skittlebrau."

His face wrinkles in distaste. "One of my buddies in the Army tried that with M&Ms once, if I remember correctly."

Chris makes a gagging noise. "That sounds disgusting."

"It was." That hadn't prevented him from chugging a glassful on a dare, though. "You never tried anything like that, I'm sure."

"Ew.

She smiles. "Not with M&Ms and beer, no. Though some friends and I did attempt some variation of Skittlebrau involving Skittles and Fuzzy Navals." Chris pauses, thinking. "The red and orange Skittles didn't really make a difference."

"Well I'd guess not, though it's been ages since I've had a Skittle. Or a Fuzzy Navel."

"You're not missing out, trust me."

"Yeah, somehow I thought that," he says, shoveling another forkful of eggs in his mouth. "What are you up to today?"

"Not much." Aside from ignoring the date. "I'll probably do some housework."

She doesn't want to ask because it means he'll be leaving and she doesn't want to think of that. "When do you have to catch your bus?"

He glances over at the clock on the microwave--around 7:30. "About quarter to ten." Not that he particularly wants to leave. He's a little too comfortable at the moment, he knows that. It doesn't mean he's not enjoying it.

She looks down at her plate, pushing the eggs around. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Home. I'll head north, cross the border at Vancouver, then head east. It'll take a while, but I'll get there."