Log: Matt & Rachel - Kitchen Konflict

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A late night kitchen meeting in which Matt learns not leave his sandwiches unattended.



3:13am was no time for anyone to be awake. Matt was wide awake though and no amount of reading in bed or counting sheep or laying there had helped so he had finally gotten up to wander the school with his insomnia. Cranky from it, he headed to the kitchen to see if there was some magical go-to-sleep foods there or something. A pill would be perfect. A nice, happy sleeping pill.

Instead, he found leftover chicken salad in the fridge. Well, it'd do. Pulling it out along with some bread, he made himself a sandwich, then decided to go get a book to read while he ate. Leaving the sandwich on the counter he headed back up to his suite to get a book. If he couldn't sleep, at least this was something to do.

Clad in shorts and a singlet, Rachel padded in a minute later, appearing unfazed by the cold even as she tugged the fridge open and rummaged through it. She withdrew after a moment with a carton of milk, taking a long swallow directly from it as she settled at the kitchen table. The sandwich was just sitting there, and, well, frankly the teenager was not quite all there. So it was with little thought that she swiped one half of it and took a large bite, slumping over the table as she chewed and brooded, fingers tapping a random rhythm against the cardboard box.

Returning to the kitchen, Matt heard the heartbeat inside well before he actually crossed the threshold. It wasn't one he recognized, but there were a lot of people in the mansion that came and went, so he didn't think much of it. Besides, the bad people didn't usually sit at the kitchen table and eat - "Hey!" he protested, not thinking at all about niceties. She was eating his sandwich! "That's my sandwich, bitch!" Striding over to the table, he snatched the plate away.

His loud entry instinctively sparked a response in Rachel as she snatched the plate back with her powers, inadvertently overpowering the motion and sending the plate skidding off the table and crashing to the floor. Oops. Still, with the name-calling, the teenager only felt mildly remorseful at the waste of food.

Awake now, Rachel stood, chair scraping against the floor as she turned to face the young punk that had so rudely interrupted her supper. “Well, now it belongs to the floor. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Flipping the girl off, Matt ignored the sandwich on the floor, she could clean it up since she wanted to eat it so badly. What the hell was she thinking stealing someone else's food like that!? Setting his book on the table, Matt went to see if there was any more chicken salad left for him to make a new sandwich. There was a little left, but not enough for another sandwich. Dammit! Now what did he want?

Rachel eyed his back for several moments, then flopped back down into the chair and took another swig from the carton before continuing to eat her purloined half of the sandwich while Matt rummaged through the fridge. Unfortunately for her, it did not take long for her stupid conscience to make itself known. He was being a rude douche, but she had -- rudely – eaten his supper.

“Budge over. I’ll make you your sandwich.”

"I used all the chicken salad," Matt replied crossly. Making him a sandwich was all well and good until that was factored in. "Dunno what I want," eggs sounded good, but that required slightly more work. Running his fingers over the raised labels, he looked to see what else was in the fridge.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel shrugged and went back to the sandwich. It took a moment, but she finally realised that there was something odd about the way he was feeling his way through the fridge’s contents. “If it’s a sandwich you want, there’s cheese, some ham and eggs in the fridge. There’s also canned tuna, spam and soup in the cupboard.” And she knew that because that’s all she had been eating since she arrived. If she had money, she would offer to do a grocery run for the mansion. But since she didn’t…

Sighing, Matt pulled open the deli drawer, opening each package and sniffing the contents since these packages weren't labelled like the tupperware containers, until he found some swiss cheese and ham. That'd work. Quickly, he reassembled another sandwich and headed to the table. Before he got there though, he turned and took the sandwich away, thinking she might grab it again if he left it there as he went to the pantry to see what chips they had before finally sitting down. "You could say 'thanks,'" he grumbled. She was still eating his sandwich after all.

“Thanks,” Rachel parroted dutifully, finishing off the sandwich with a large bite. The redhead slumped back over the table, looking balefully at the mess she had made on the floor. She would clean it up. Later. “Sorry.” Saying she had not intended to steal his supper would just sound dumb and any other possible defence else would just sound like an excuse. So she pillowed her head in her arms and prepared to sink bank into her thoughts like every other night when the kitchen was blissfully people-free at three in the morning.

"No you aren't," Matt stated matter-of-factly around a mouthful of sandwich. This sandwich was at least pretty good, too. The chips were also tasty, not as salty as most others. He didn't like overly salty food. "Who are you, anyways?" He paid no attention to her body language as he ate. It was late and he was tired even if he couldn't sleep and he just didn't much give a damn to use his sonar that specifically.

“I am. Just not enough to grovel for forgiveness.” That would require a more charitable mood, although she also lacked the requisite energy to feel properly irritated. Whatever, really. She had bigger things in life to regret than stealing a brat’s chicken salad and bread. Rachel’s voice was slightly muffled from her position, but they were obviously beyond false politeness and niceities. “Y’can just call me de Sammich Stealer, if y’like.”

Snorting, Matt continued eating for a while without speaking. "You don't seem that bumbling," he finally said. "like the Hamburglar."

“The what?”

"Hamburglar?" Matt asked, didn't everyone know the Hamburglar? "Thief who steals hamburgers fro Burger King?"

Rachel lifted her head off to stare blankly at the other teen, before dropping her head again. Burger King. That was, what, a fast food chain? It had to be one more of those pop culture references that would simply fly over her uneducated, childhood-deprived brain regardless of how much someone explained it to her. “Sure. No bumbling,” she randomised. “Sandwiches are healthier an’ therefore I am leaner an’ meaner.”

"If you say so," Matt agreed, humouring the girl. It was too early (or late) to play these games. It was all about dominance, it reminded him vaguely of being in the group home, except that this was a girl. It was different when girls and guys played these games together instead of with their own genders. The rules sort of flew out the window since they did it differently. He opened his book to the bookmark and used a finger to find his place over the little braille dots before he started to read.