You think this food makes itself?

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

After seeing Alison, Lorna heads off to the kitchen where she encounters Nathan. Since that's one of the people she needed to see, she's quite delighted. She asks him a favor and to his own surprise, Nathan says yes.



Lorna skipped down to the kitchen, humming cheerfully completely ignoring the way she was butchering the popular song. Her conversation with Alison had lifted her spirits quite a bit and she was intent on putting her newly formed idea into action as soon as possible. As soon as possible being after she got dinner started and cleaned up whatever mess the kids had left since she’d last been through. She really did need help.

He had really intended only to make himself a quick sandwich to provide his body with some fuel for the session with Jack - which was in half an hour, Nathan realized with a sigh as he glanced at his watch. And my goodness, do we have plenty to talk about today... But there were all these lovely ingredients he'd found once he'd looked around the kitchen a little. Fresh ciabatta buns. Prosciutto. Provolone. Red peppers. He couldn't believe his appetite was so healthy, under the circumstances. Chalk up one more perverse reaction on his part.

Lorna entered the kitchen and squealed with glee. So nice when her prey came to her instead of having to hunt him down. “Nathan! Just the man I needed to see.” She glanced over the ingredients he’d already laid out, “There’s some cappicola and salami in that lower drawer there if you’re interested. The Italian dressing is freshly made too.” She dumped the soup bowls she brought down from Alison’s room into the sink and hopped onto a kitchen stool, grinning with excitement over her brilliant idea.

"Ooh," Nathan said, brightening a little, and followed her suggestion. "And you were looking for me? What, are you bored with the new drills I showed you already?" Distraction. Distraction was good.

“Actually, I had a question about those too but that’s not why I’m looking for you.” Lorna waved that off. “No, I need something else. Tell me how to make bran muffins.”

"Uhh..." Nathan paused in the midst of making his sandwich. "Bran and boiling water in one bowl. Sugar, shortening, creamed together with eggs in another. Then flour, baking soda, salt... add that to the sugar mixture, alternating with milk, or buttermilk..." He paused. "Oh, did you want the exact quantities?"

“Could you give it to me if I did?” Lorna asked intrigued. Obviously she knew them but there wasn’t anything wrong with not knowing them off the top of one’s head.

Nathan paused, pulling up the recipe in his mind. "Yeah, clear recall of that one. Hurray for ye old photographic memory. Do you want them?" He stopped, then gave her an odd look. "You know how to make bran muffin," he said, staring thoughtfully at her even as he kept assembling the sandwich.

“Course I do. Didn’t say I didn’t.” Lorna grinned at him, with a little nod of approval for his sandwich creation. “Did you hear me say that I didn’t? Cus I don’t remember saying that.”

Nathan made a suspicious noise. "You," he said, "have the same look you did when you called me in to do the 'Look at what I can do with your coins NOW!' demonstration. What are you plotting?"

Lorna attempted to look innocent and not at all plotting anything but only managed to hold it for about thirty seconds or so. She dissolved into self-satisfied little giggles and explained her plan. “I want to start an advanced cooking class. Some of the students are much too good for the regular class and I really would love to have the help in meal prep that I could get out of them as ‘homework’. Problem is, I can’t teach that and the regular class too. The little ones need too much attention. Do you know how much time I spend in this room everyday?” She gestured to the kitchen, “Hours. And I’ve got my classes I teach and my classes I take and training and etcetera.” She rested her hands flat on the counter, quite seriously about this. “So I was thinking you might take the basic Cooking class off my hands. You’re a good teacher and not half bad as a cook.”

Nathan gaped at her. It took him a good ten seconds to find his voice. "You want me... to teach a cooking class."

“Yes, absolutely,” Lorna nodded. “Need you to, really. You’re a better teacher than I am, for one and that’s more important in the beginning class. It doesn’t matter that I’ve have ages of classes. They need someone who can break down the basics.” She sighed a little, “And honestly, I’m a little bit overwhelmed here. I don’t really mind getting up at 3 am but I’d really rather not have to.”

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it. It took him a further five seconds or so to figure out what to say. "Starting in January?" Okay, so that hadn't quite been what he'd expected to come out of his mouth.

“That’d be perfect.” Lorna relaxed, not realizing until just then that she’d actually been very tense about this. “I’ll give you my current curriculum but god knows you can do any damn thing you like. I try to get some proper diet and health stuff in there too. Not that dessert still isn’t the best part of class in their opinions but oh well.”

"Cooking class," Nathan murmured, finishing with the sandwich. "Pete's going to laugh himself into a heart attack. I will have a gap in my schedule, though... I'm doing a second part of the international relations course, but the Eastern Europe/Western Asia one will end at Christmas."

She beamed at him. “See? It’s like fate. Who cares what Pete thinks? He’s just a cranky old British man who smokes too much and likes fried food more than is possibly healthy.”

Nathan laughed a bit wearily at that, then shook his head. "I do like the little kids," he confessed almost grudgingly, coloring a bit. "Might be nice to deal with them, rather than older kids who make an art of smart-assery..."

“Plus they tend to be nice small classes. Cute kids, small classes, lack of opportunity for concussions.” She leaned forward and examined the leftovers from his sandwich making endeavour. “Are you going to eat that bell pepper?”

Nathan grumbled at her. "Two concussions in nine months, and you all--" He paused, tilting his head. "It has only been two, hasn't it? And no, I wasn't planning to..."

“Memory problems are a one of the results of multiple head injuries, aren’t they?” She grinned as she snitched the bell pepper.

"Uh-huh." He couldn't help a faint smirk at her as he started to clean up what little mess he'd made. "At least you didn't mention sprained brains. I'm hitting the next person who does."

“Hey now, no hitting my best friend. She’s the usual culprit, isn’t she?” Lorna watched him clean up, still quite pleased with herself for getting him to take the beginning class. “Though it might encourage her to be more creative. She could come up with all sort of new things to call you.”

"Actually, no, it's her plastic-assed boyfriend who runs around braying about me spraining my brain at every possible opportunity," Nathan grumbled.

She snickered. “Haroun does tend to hold onto his ideas. I think he likes to pretend that he’s more qualified than he really is.”

Nathan grumbled moodily and tried to banish thoughts of Haroun and his Very Strong Opinions. "Maybe I won't hit the next person who says it," he conceded a bit crankily. "It might be someone whose jaw I don't want to break."

“Very good. You really should be judicious about these things. I mean, kids are so impressionable. What would you do if you’d made that vow and then Miles had said it? You couldn’t hit him. For one thing the rest of the mansion would have torn you to itty bitty pieces for it.” Lorna hopped off the kitchen stool and circled around the counter, “Want something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

"Coffee would be marvelous, if there's some in the pot," Nathan said, cutting his sandwich in half. "I have my session with Jack in a little while and I could use the caffeine."

Lorna lifted the pot and gave it a little shake. “There is but I wouldn’t drink it unless it’s an emergency. I was going to make a fresh pot if you can wait. I have some entertaining blends down here.”

"Sampling new coffee. Always a worthwhile activity." Nathan took a bit of his sandwich, his mood improving a little as he observed that yes, it was quite good. "Sorry I haven't been available to train with you lately," he went on as she set about making a fresh pot. "I swore to Scott that I wouldn't look in the direction of the Danger Room until Madelyn decreed that my concussion was officially all gone."

Lorna nodded and set about fixing a new pot. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been working on those new drills you showed me and Alison’s birthday scavenger hunt is always good for my sensitivity. This year she tagged each gift with a different metal. Frustrating as all get out, let me tell you.” She grinned. “Before you got here, she was the one who really pushed me powers wise. Guess she’s still in the habit.”

"I'm looking forward to seeing what you've been doing with those drills I showed you," Nathan said. "You know, though, we really ought to start doing partnered-scenarios, though. Scott's hinted that he might be working that into the training rotation for us."

“It’s about time.” Lorna said, dumping freshly ground beans into the coffee pot. “I know we’ve had a sudden influx of people but it’s time and past to adjust to it already. Leaving the training basically up to the individuals to work out just isn’t going to fly with all the newbies.”

"Hey, cut the guy some slack. It's not as if his attempt to make up those training rotations hasn't been interrupted twice a week by various crises. Not to mention the mutiny," Nathan pointed out, his lips twitching.

“True and I much prefer him not making like Captain Bligh. Still, I think that having a schedule to keep everyone on the same level needs to be a priority.” Lorna pointed a finger at him, “and just as much for those who tend to overdo it as those of us who would slack otherwise.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow, the small, dry smile slipping out finally. "Have you told him that?" he inquired.

“And do something useful? Course not.” Lorna shrugged. She checked the coffee and willed it to drip faster.

Nathan tilted his head, not quite sure what to make of that. "He's never struck me as being twitchy about criticism," he said leadingly.

“It’s not that. To tell you the truth, I’m still just trying to get myself to a point where I’m a useful member of the team. Not really at the place to be making suggestions yet.” She shrugged again and leaned against the counter. “I’m still a newbie myself.”

"Yet you didn't hesitate to voice your opinion to me," Nathan pointed out. "Is that because I'm not officially an active member of the team yet?"

“You’re not a team leader.” She replied as if that explained everything. She moved over to the sink to wash the soup bowls she’d abandoned earlier. “Plus you’re easy to talk to.”

Nathan managed to cover the surprised reaction to her second comment. "I used to be," he murmured a bit cryptically, turning his attention back to his sandwich.

Lorna raised an eyebrow at him, “Are you not anymore? Did I miss this memo? Should I be having more difficulty? Why does no one ever tell me these things?” Her smile invited him to confide in her, radiating a sort of open goodwill.

Sneaky. Why was he perpetually surrounded by sneaky women? He shrugged a little, eating some more of his sandwich before he answered. "I'm feeling a little on the less-than-competent side these days," he confessed quietly. "Which makes me a poor sounding board for things like this."

“Ah.” Oh good, coffee was done. She pulled out a couple of mugs and poured him a cup, handing it over. “Yet we still dump on you. Poor Nathan. Well, you are not to take my rambling as something you need to do anything about in anyway at all. Got it?”

"I'm trying very hard to minimize the meddling, actually." Nathan took a sip, unable to help an appreciative smile. A very interesting blend indeed. "It generally winds up badly. Occasionally with someone in the lake, and I'm supposed to be cutting back on that."

“Yes, that’s probably smart. What with winter coming up and all? The med team will kill you.” She got herself a cup of her own and went back to the stool she’d abandoned. “You send someone there with hypothermia? Oh, I wouldn’t want to be you.”

"Moira and I nearly gave ourselves hypothermia pushing each other in back in March," Nathan pointed out. "Of course, that turned out really well."

“Right but presumably you’re not looking to marry anyone else so cutting back is still a good plan.” She grinned, “When is the wedding anyway?”

"Sometime in the spring," Nathan said lightly, "and no, we don't have an official date yet. There's hardly been much time to plan, this last month or two."

“Are you going to ask your friendly neighbourhood chef to cater it for you?” Lorna gave a little flourish and a bow.

Seemed surreal to be talking about wedding arrangments, after what had happened last night... "Depends on how ambitious my friendly neighborhood chef is feeling. This is... well, the plan is we're having it on Muir, and the guest list is liable to be an alarming thing."

“Well I’d have minions, of course. That’s key to any successful event. I just want to make the cake.” She gave a little bounce. “Weddings have the best food.”

"I'll let Moira know you offered," Nathan told her. "I can't imagine she'd be anything less than utterly delighted to take you up on it."

“You’ll think that less when I pester you endlessly about menu choices and what layer of the cake you want which flavour and where I’m going to be able to set up and all the rest.” She grinned and sipped at her coffee, “This is going to be a blast.”



With that problem solved and Nathan off to his appointment, Lorna starts dinner. Jamie, who has been told by Alison that Lorna wants to talk to him, comes down to see what's up.



Lorna wiped the counter and started to pull out what she needed for dinner. Once she got the chicken started she could head off and find Jamie. She was a little mortified that she’d somehow forgotten to deal with dinner for the mansion. It wasn’t like feeding that many people was just a walk in the park no matter how often she did it.

It wasn't long before Jamie himself sauntered into the kitchen, a cheerful bounce in his step. "Hey, Lorna. Alison says you're looking for me?"

Lorna looked up from the chicken she was prepping and squealed. She wiped her hands on her apron and bounded over to him, seizing his shoulders. “Yes! Just the man I needed to see. You have to help me.”

Jamie blinked and grinned at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, Alison mentioned--something about Thanksgiving dinner? Something about you deserting your post for sunny sands and shirtless Summers and leaving me all alone to cope with the ravenous horde?"

She grinned, temporarily distracted by the idea of a shirtless Alex. After a moment, she shook her head to clear it. “Most of the prep is done, actually. Pies are made, biscuits are easy enough. You could recruit Rahne to help you, actually. She’s pretty good. But yeah, I kinda forgot that not being here meant that I had to make sure someone else took care of dinner.”

"Well, _that_ was kinda scatterbrained of you." Jamie assumed a look of concern. "It's short notice, though, and I'm kinda busy . . ."

She shook him a little bit. “Jamie, don’t toy with me. I’m a desperate woman with nothing to lose.” She narrowed her eyes, losing nothing of the humor for her mock-severity, “Don’t make me tell the whole school they don’t get dinner because you’re too busy.”

Jamie snickered. "Point taken. And it's not as if I don't always come equipped with a spare. I think I can help you out. All the turkeys here already, or do I have to go shopping?"

She feigned relief, collapsing against him with theatrical flair. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Everything is here. I got that much done at least. Thank god for at home delivery.” She straightened back up and stepped away. “I even have my menu plans around here somewhere.” She paused, recalling something. “Do you know how to make mincemeat pie? Cain asked for it.”

Jamie thought for a minute. "Yeah, you've got your meat, you've got your apples, you've got your cider, you simmer, you make the crust, you bake the pie. I've seen Mom do it and if you've got a recipe I can hum along."

Of course, Lorna had a recipe. “I was going to start it tonight anyway. Best to let it cure a couple of days, ya know? Hang on.” She dashed back and tossed the chicken in the oven then dove into a drawer, surfacing again with a tattered recipe book in her hand. “Here. Turkey, stuffing, mincemeat. All the usual suspects.”

"Excellent." Jamie riffled through the recipes, nodding. "I think I can handle it, then. You go have fun."

“Are you dismissing me?” Lorna laughed and put her hands on her hips. “Now that you have my book, you’re all set?”

Jamie adopted a haughty expression. "You've fallen victim to my nefarious plan and all your secrets are mine. None can stand in my way."

“Not likely, buster.” She poked him in the side. “In fact, I just had a very interesting conversation with Nathan that will affect you.”

Jamie blinked, suddenly all curiosity. "He give you the skinny on my knock-knock jokes or what?"

“Nope.” She smiled enigmatically and walked away. She still had lots to do for dinner, after all.

"Oh, now you're just forcing me to follow you around asking about it. C'mon, what'd you two talk about?"

“Classes next semester. Help me peeled those?” She nodded toward the potatoes and yams she’d stacked near the sink. She grabbed some garlic and olive oil to set to roast before starting the dessert prep.

Jamie duped, to double both his peeling speed and his pleading-look potential, and set to work. "What about classes next semester?"

“I want to cut back on my time spent in here.” Her knife indicated the kitchen at large. “I’m just getting too busy for it and unlike present company, I can’t be six places at once.”

"Well, it'd be boring if everyone were me, anyway. And you do spend an awful lot of time in here." Jamie did a quick three-potato loop over his shoulder, gently lobbing them into the rinse water. "What's that got to do with me?"

She smiled and mixed ingredients for the pumpkin cranberry bread she was serving as dessert. “Nathan is taking my beginning cooking class,” she continued placidly, ignoring his question. “He’ll be good with the kids. I thought the idea was brilliant. Was surprised he said yes though.”

"Yeah, he'd be great at that." Jamie snickered. "Good practice for if he ends up having any little munchkins with the Doc, too, some of them. I'm not _in_ the beginning cooking class, though . . ."

“Oh aren’t you? I didn’t know that.” Lorna flashed him a grin and moved right along with her bright chatter. “I offered to cater their wedding, you know. Hopefully Moira will like that idea. Otherwise I have no idea what I’m going to do for a wedding gift.”

"Yeah. LIke anybody, having tasted your food, would turn it down. Unless they literally did not have the cubic stomach space available." Jamie grinned. "I bet you she makes little noises of Scottish glee when she finds out."

“One can only hope. Cube the potatoes and such, would you?” She’d flicked on the water to boil them a bit earlier. “Anyway, the other part of my devious plan to get out of here is to start an Advanced class. Actually teach some of what Chef Marcel hammered into me instead of just Home Ec 101. Would you be interested?” There was the slightest hesitation in her voice, like she wasn’t sure it was interesting.

Jamie's knife froze halfway through a potato. "Are you serious? That'd be awesome. I'd love to." He grinned. "As long as you aren't gonna scream at us too much, that is."

She ducked her head and fought past the brief moment of relief. “Only when you deserve it. And it’s not nearly as intimidating from a Valley Girl as from a crazed Frenchman so you’ll survive. Besides, the master plan calls for you guys to be the ones planning menus. I’ll direct you a bit but basically you’ll be doing all the work. I thought I’d offer Rahne the class too. And anyone else who’d like to audition. I figure it’ll be a small class.”

"Yeah, but a fun one. Can't wait." Jamie went back to cutting the potatoes, then snickered. "Y'know, if I ever end up living in a college dorm, I am so going to be the go-to guy."

Lorna giggled, easily picturing from her own meagre semester’s experience. “An alternative to pizza delivery? Even with your power, you’ll never get anything done. Do yourself a favour and do what I did when I got here. Deny everything. Convince them you burn water.”

Jamie widened his eyes. "'Why no, that's not braised chicken with garlic and olives you smell, it's leftover garlic pizza I tried to warm up in my toaster and got cheese all over everything.' Like that?"

That set her off into helpless laughter again. “Yes, something like that. Lie, cheat and hide. Until you get your own apartment it’s the smartest thing to do. Then get a deadbolt and keep it locked.”

"I'll remember that." He grinned. "And then eventually when I get a house, I'm putting in little fan-driven air ducts between the kitchen and Kitty's lab. Even she remembers she's hungry eventually."

“Movie theatres do that. To make people want popcorn. And Mrs. Fields.” She nodded in approval. “Sneaky but it works. However you might want to make her build a door into the lab so you can drag her out of it on occasion. Judging by the med staff, even beating her over the head with dinner won’t work if she has to leave of her own volition.”

Jamie snickered. "This is true. Although I'll give her her due, she's been good about letting herself get distracted lately. And she's never zombied out on me as bad as Doug does sometimes."

“Doug.” Lorna rolled her eyes, “I’m surprise Marie-Ange doesn’t resort to a taser for him sometimes.”

"Heh. I might suggest that one of these days. Although I think she'd probably use it on the computer instead. Eh, well, they've figured it out so far."

“Nah, killing the computer would kill him. He’ll forgive personal injury.” She surveyed the prep done so far. “I think we’re done here for a bit. Thanks for your help, Jamie.”

"Hey, I'm helping myself here." Jamie reached for a towel to wipe his hands. "Want help washing up? Not like I don't have the time."

“There really isn’t that much to clear.” Her refusal was automatic, protecting her space. Let it go, Dane she scolded herself with a little shake of her head. “But sure, the less I have to do the better.”

Comments

[x-pete.livejournal.com]

Point of order!

Pete doesn't actually like fried food *that* much. He doesn't like any food *that* much, because most of the time, by the time he's noticed that he really enjoyed a meal, he's forgotten what it was he ate. He eats fried breakfasts at weekends, if he can be bothered. The rest of the time, he eats whatever's convenient.

But yes, he is a chef's worst nightmare

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

To Lorna, /any/ fried food is too much fried food. She has prejudices that way.

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

That's why she won't let Jamie play with the Twinkies, isn't it.

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

Twinkies are bad enough on their own.