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[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

Monday night, Lorna makes Warren an offer he can't refuse. They scheme for absolutely no plotty reasons whatsoever.



Lorna sat back at her computer and grinned smugly. Her nails tapped staccato on the keys then closed the window. Beside the monitor were several printed pages, recipes from the demented genius chef. Lorna leafed through them, humming tunelessly. She got up and wandered to the common room to wait for Warren.

Lorna didn't have to wait long. A knock sounded on the door before she'd even had the chance to get comfortable in her seat. The door cracked open, and Warren's cheerful grin peeked through. "Pretty punctual for me, isn't it?" he said proudly. He crossed the room and plopped down across from her on the couch. "So, what's this offer of which you speak?" he asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re a miracle of timeliness.” Lorna leaned across the coffee table and handed him a recipe. “Nate and Moira liked that one. What do you think?”

Warren scanned the page quickly and handed it back to her. "Looks good. Why?"

Lorna hummed again, amused and simply handed him another recipe. "How about that one?" Dessert this time, heavy and rich and probably more calories than any sane person would need in a week.

Looking it up and down, Warren raised his eyes. "Wow. Definitely the ultimate dessert." He put the paper down on the coffee table. "You're making me hungry. What's this about?"

"Dinner, of course." Lorna pulled a sheet from the bottom of her pile and handed that over too. Heavier paper, nicer font. Formal menu writing was exactly Lorna's strong point but she faked it nicely. "Feel like a quiet dinner for two? I'm getting out of practice and I need victims...um, volunteers."

Warren turned the sheet over in his hands. "'Volunteers,' huh? Doesn't Alex appreciate your cooking anymore? Or has this got some sort of poison in it?" He studied her with mock suspicion.

"Oh it's very much poisoned. I'm going to kill you all and then dance a jig on your graves," she replied cheerfully. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed, "Actually, it's more that Alex, while he is my very life and breath, has zero ability to tell gourmet from tv dinner. You, on the other hand, have a discerning palate and a good excuse to let me cook fancy things."

"Well, it's good to know you appreciate my, uh, palate, and any day's a good day for gourmet food. But what's the ocassion? Is it my birthday again?" Warren glanced at the fancy recipes covering the coffee table and his stomach emited a faint grumble. He really was hungry.

Lorna rolled her eyes and did a quick mental inventory of the refrigerator downstairs, "The occasion is Piotr and his return to your loving arms. Nothing says welcome home like a romantic dinner for two prepared by your very own gourmet chef." She gathered the recipes with a sweep of her hands. "In the meantime, there may or may not still be spaghetti and sauce in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Piotr's return to my loving arms?" Warren repeated, surprised. "Wow, that'd be amazing. Will there be magical violin music playing, too?" He shuffled through the papers, looking forward to actually being able to taste the delectable dishes pictured at the top of each page. Suddenly he looked up at her. "Wait, is there a catch? Are you trying to con me into sleeping with you or something?" he joked.

"Well, the wings are awfully sexy..." Lorna teased then shook her head, "No catch. Truth is I'm a sucker for romance and it seemed like a fitting follow up to that Hollywood perfect airport scene you concocted. Plus, like I said, I haven't done any serious cooking in ages. I need the practice."

Warren blushed at the mention of the airport scene. "What can I say, I guess I'm a romantic deep down." He sighed happily. "Thanks, Lorna. I know he'll love it. He claims to know nothing about gourmet food, but he appreciates good food when he gets it." He paused, mentally beginning to plan out the night. "Seriously, though, is there something I can do for you? I've got to return the favor somehow."

She shrugged, "Honestly, I don't need a thing. If it makes you feel better you can owe me. Never know when I'll need a Worthington on my side." She winked at him. "Besides, it's not like you get to just show up and look pretty. That's Piotr's role. You, my boy, have to work with me on the set-up. Starting with the date and time."

Warren rolled his eyes and groaned. "Why couldn't you have proposed this plan to Piotr instead? Then I could be the one that gets to sit there and be cute." He leaned forward. "Okay, okay. Well, let's see. I don't want to keep you cooped in on a weekend night, so it'll have to be a weekday... I think I'm fine most days except for Wednesdays-- I have to grade Econ problem sets every Wednesday night. What days work for you?"

"Thursdays are best. Brats have essays due on Fridays so Thursdays are basically my night off. Mondays aren't bad. Fridays are the aforementioned essays and I'm not fit for man or beast. But Thursday is definitely the best. Classes are in the morning and I can get up early to get a head start." Lorna tilted her head to the side, "Did you want violin music? Because I can do that but it would require my darling roommate's cooperation." Lorna could imagine Alison's glee.

Warren's grin stretched even wider. "Are you serious? Violin music? And here I thought it would have to magically appear on its own again. Let's see..." He drummed his fingers against the table and mentally went through his plans for the next few weeks. "Yeah, Thursdays are probably best for me too. You two just have to promise to leave when things start getting hot and heavy," he added mischievously.

“What if I promise to not look?” she returned with equal mischief, covering her eyes then spreading her fingers to peek through. “No? Oh all right, we’ll be the very souls of discretion.” She dropped her hands and drummed her nails on her knee, pensively. “Classic black and whites for the servers okay with you?”

"Of course," Warren nodded. "So let's see, we've got a date, the food, and possibly even the music... How about a location?"

"It's a mansion, take your pick." Lorna flipped her hand in an expansive gesture then curled it closed, "Though I did think the sunroom might be really interesting. All that glass would glow in candlelight."

"The sunroom, that's a good idea. And it's out of the way enough that we probably won't be disturbed if we ask not to be." Warren agreed, picturing the scene in his head. "Candlelight, violin music, gourmet food... This really is a dinner fit for a king. Or two kings, rather." He looked at the recipes again, paying closer attention to them this time. "We're going to need to do a lot of shopping at that gourmet store in town. When do you want to go?... Actually, I don't think we've even picked a definite date yet. Next Thursday for the dinner? It'll give you some time to prepare."

"That's fine. Sunday would be good, though I can't pick up the seafood until Wednesday. I'll have the florals delivered Thursday afternoon. I can probably bribe Jamie into helping set up with promise of a repeat for him and Kitty. Keep his mind off this crazy dupe too." She sighed, all too tempted to ask what was being done about him. But that was a security matter and she wanted nothing to do with it. She shook off the feeling and continued, "Get Piotr in a tux and in the sunroom at say...seven?"

"Yeah, seven sounds good..." Warren shook his head in amazement. "Florals? Jamie and Kitty? Wait, who's picking out the flowers? Am I?" He shook his head again and blinked. "Wow, you're really loving this, aren't you? Keep it up and you could probably start a five star restaurant right inside the mansion."

"If you want to pick the flowers, be my guest. Otherwise, I'll take care of it." Lorna twisted and retrieved a pen off the table next to her and spun it idly between her fingers. "I don't know that I'd ever do this for a living but it's fun for friends and it would be silly to waste all those years of cooking lessons making mac and cheese."

"I'll go with you to pick the flowers," Warren volunteered. "I mean, I should do /something/, right?" He settled back in his seat, trying to remember if they'd forgotten anything. "Well, we're going to need wine... Oh! And tell everyone involved that if ANYONE spoils the surprise, I'll kill them." He attempted a menacing glare, but it quickly melted back into a smile. The more he thought about this dinner, the more excited he got.

“I will threaten death most adequately, I promise. You can buy the wine. I’m still underage.” An eyeroll indicated what she thought of that particular law, not because she drank—Lorna limited herself to celebratory toasts at weddings for the most part—but because she needed it to cook. “I’ll trust that you can do an adequate job of pairing the wine to the dish?”

"We'll select the wines together." He grabbed the pen out of Lorna's hand and started to write on the back of one of the recipe printouts. In block letters, he printed "TOP SECRET CLASSIFIED INFORMATION!" across the top and began writing down everything they had planned so far. "Thursday at seven, sunroom, candles, flowers, wine, food, music-- we need to remember to ask Allison-- servers-- Jamie and Kitty..." He surveyed the sheet. "That's everything we've figured out so far, right?"

She leaned across and snatched the pen back, taking the paper as well. “Yes, but I get to keep the planning materials. I don’t live with the guest of honor. I’ll talk to Ali. Think about how you want to convince Piotr to get into a tux without clueing him in to the plan. Sunday, we can shop, pick the wines and florals and finalize any other details.”

"Piotr doesn't live with me," Warren started to protest. Then he paused and considered. "Well, actually, I did say not to expect us to come out of my room for the next week, so I suppose that's fair." He watched as she added her own comments to his notes. "Yes, Sunday. I'll be in my room all day, so just come grab me when you want to go out."

"Bright and early," she warned him, pen busily making notes in an untidy scrawl common to chefs around the globe. "Meantime, I'll gather the troops." She grinned, "This will be fun."

"Absolutely." Warren returned her smile and stood. "And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return to my room and hope to find a sexy, strong Russian covered in oil and tied to my bed." He leaned over and hugged her. "Thanks, Lorna. I definitely owe you one."

Lorna hugged him back, "For now, I'll just take that mental image as payment. Because, yeah...hot." She let that one sink in and grinned, "Get out, I've got to go find my sexy boyfriend now."