Amara & John | Friday Evening [Backdated!]

[x-pyromania.livejournal.com]

'The only thing that I have ever successfully made in the kitchen is a mess. And several little fires.' -Carrie Bradshaw-

John had just returned the key to the old suite and was about to leave when he noticed someone in the main kitchen. Well, not just someone. This was that explosive, volcanic fire power chick. Yeah, okay so he wouldn't describe her as such out loud but she was all of that, right? Another one of those that had the ability to create fire. John had seen her around from time to time but had never bothered to talk to her. He wasn't even sure he knew her name.

What was it? Mary? Amy?

"Hi."

It wasn't a bad description. It certainly wasn't the worst thing Amara would have heard herself described as, but then again, she did prefer to be known by name rather than any sort of moniker. She glanced up from the bowl she was mixing ingredients in, a polite smile on her face.

"Hi," she said in reply, before taking a moment to look confused. "John, right? I thought you and Angelo had moved out already."

He raised his brows in mock surprise at hearing that. "Been keeping tabs on us, stranger?" John smirked and leaned against the doorway.

"I was just returning the keys," he explained. "Don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Not exactly," she laughed a little. "I ran into Angelo when he was moving the last of his stuff out, that's all." And John might have come up in conversation a time or two. "And I'm Amara."

"Amara," he repeated with a nod. "So how come I've never seen you around here much? You got some sort of a secret hiding place or something? Wear an invisible cloak maybe?" Like he had any right to tease her about that. Since working in the new Elpis office, he'd spent most of his time out of Xavier's.

"Maybe you just don't pay attention enough," she said with a grin. "But I do tend to spend most of my time in the city with classes and work. And I am fairly sure I have never seen you in the library here, which is where I spend most of my time when I am here."

"What, there's a library here?" Her grin was infectious. "Yeah, I don't go there." John had always had enough books in his room to keep him occupied. "You go to Westchester?"

"Who would have thought it, at a school?" She shook her head, still grinning. "No, I'm at ESU."

Smarty pants. "What are you studying?"

Amara had her moments. "I haven't declared a major quite yet. I'm still trying to decide between Spanish, literature and classics." She was starting to get to the point where she did need to pick one, but still she couldn't make up her mind.

"Right." John at the moment was considering his options at either NYU or Columbia. Nathan had already agreed to pay the tuition for his Masters but he'd chosen to take a short sabbatical from school to concentrate on his work with Elpis. He figured the experience would later help him.

"I should probably get going. Wouldn't want to disturb your dinner plans." He looked at the bowl of stuff she was mixing. "But uh we're having a little housewarming party sometime next month. You should come."

"There's plenty here, if you'd like to stay. I have trouble cooking for one." She grinned. "Angelo has already extended an invitation, I'm looking forward to it." The grin got a little broader. "I even have permission to hit you if you hit on me."

"... Now I'm afraid to stay for dinner."

"Well, only if you're drunk." She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "And you don't look drunk to me. So I think you might be safe for the moment."

"For the moment, huh?" John took his jacket off and slung it over his forearm. "Obviously a guy doesn't need to be drunk to want to hit on you though." He held up his hands as he stepped into the kitchen.

"That was a compliment."

Amara chuckled softly. "Not all guys that do are." Not that Amara was typically anymore receptive, drunk or sober. "Would you like to make yourself useful? I can't quite reach the rice in the pantry, and I think someone's purloined the stool."

"Sure. But let me warn you that I'd be useless at turning it into anything edible. Angelo does all the cooking at our place. I just eat." He grinned and reached for the rice, scooping it into the pot for her. "Is this okay or have I just succeeded in allowing you to feed ten other people?"

"Not quite that many," she said, peering over into the pot. "But I do hope you're hungry." Taking a moment to let her hand flame up, she touched her fingers to two of the burners on the stove to set them alight. "You don't have any problems with spicy foods, do you?"

He stared at her hand then at the fire on the stove, feeling the urge to take control of the flame. John had always hated the fact he could never create fire on his own. It was like he'd gotten the short end of the stick or something. "No." He tore his gaze away and focused his attention on her. "Not at all." John took a seat on one of the stools and watched as she prepared dinner.

"What's that you're making?"

And here Amara wouldn't be fussed if she couldn't. She glanced over at him at his sudden focus on the flame, and made a note not to do that again. "It's a dish from home. Modified a little because I can't get the right spices here, but it's chicken, beans, tomato and rice."

"Sounds yummy." It had been long hours since he'd last had a proper meal so this was all good. "Where's home?"

"Nova Roma." Amara tossed the mixture she'd been working on into the frypan, the spiced chicken hissing as it hit the hot oil. "It is located in Brazil."

John inhaled the aroma and grinned. "Should have figured. Brazilian chicks -- they're all like hot, right?" He stole a glance around before he slipped a cigarette between his lips. The extractor hood was turned on so it was a perfect time for him to smoke without worrying about triggering the damn smoke alarm. "Do you mind?"

"Not any more than American women are." Amara shrugged. She hadn't really experienced enough of Brazil to really say either way, but Nova Roma had not been populated by solely beautiful people. "And if you like."

He lighted up the cigarette and settled comfortably into his chair. "So who do you hang with?"

"Here?" Amara raised an eyebrow, carefully keeping an eye on the chicken and the rice as she continued to speak. "Well, I have X-Men training, so I spend a lot of time with the team. Also Tabitha, Amanda, Manuel before he left." She shrugged. "I do not actually spend a lot of time awake here."

"Yeah well, nothing much going on here anyways, right? 'cept for the usual kidnappings, near death experiences and all that jazz." John watched her cook and wondered if she would notice if he messed with the fire's temp. He might not be able to create fire but he'd always had a strong connection to it.

"Used to cook way back in my teens. Every damn day even." He blew smoke out the corner of his mouth. "I haven't since though."

Amara would definitely notice if he did. And probably smack him over the knuckles with the wooden spoon currently stirring the rice. She simply raised an eyebrow at his last comment, glancing over to him briefly.

"So why don't you anymore?"

He grinned and stood up to get the plates. "Guess I'm just lucky enough to be spoiled by people these days."

Amara grinned back. "Perhaps I should demand a meal in return for this one. Get you working in the kitchen again."

John shook his head with a laugh. Any attempt to cook would only lead to disaster. He hadn't cooked a meal for anyone in almost ten years.

"How about I just buy you a few drinks at the bar and we call ourselves even, huh? Trust me. It's a much safer option."

"I think that's cheating," she said with a laugh. "Especially given that I don't drink very much." After a couple of checks of the food, she flicked off the heat to both of them, moving to start serving up.

"Yeah? Well, a coffee bar then. I know of a great place." He finished setting up the table and sat down in his seat, all too happy to be served.

"Coffee it is," she said with a smile, placing the plate down in front of John before sliding into the seat opposite. She was still curious about his cooking skills, but if he was going to be reluctant about sharing them... she'll just have to be a little more persistent, won't she?