/posts something dorky and harmless

[wizardcop]

[ This is an apartment. It's a fairly small apartment- even for someone on Jacob's salary, but it suits him. Every thing is practical and neat- if a little dark. Dear Jake has a fondness for dark wood when it comes to furniture- and perfect.

Except for the part where there's a 200-pound wolf sprawled on the bed like he owns it. The fedora is hanging from one of the bedposts, for want of a proper hat rack.

Jacob himself is in the shower, pondering how the hell his life got so complicated all of a sudden. ]

Comments

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

[... looks at the pot next to her feet.]

...

[scoots it behind her.]

I'm more careful than that.

[wizardcop]

Do you mind?

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

... mind what?

[wizardcop]

You know perfectly well what.

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

Nope. Not at all.

[wizardcop]

You're attempting to hide a soup pot behind your back, and... what? You're hoping I wouldn't notice?

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

That was the general idea, yes.

[wizardcop]

I hate to break it to you, but I noticed.

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

... Good for you.

[Not giving you your soup back though.]

[wizardcop]

... Never mind. It's all yours. Consider it an apology for my being the world's more difficult person to work with.

[ he'll just snatch up that paperwork and return from whence he came ]

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

[Just.

Facepalms.]

Oh for the love of...

[This is where she collects the pot and stalks after him.]

[wizardcop]

[ That spare bedroom? Well, it was probably designed to be the master suite, it's big enough. But it's full of books. Shelves and shelves, boxes, piles of the things are everywhere. There's a desk crammed in one corner- which is where Jacob is sitting- a leather chair in the other. ]

Can I help you?

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

[She simply marches over, and holds the pot practically under his nose.]

Here.

[wizardcop]

[ raises his eyebrows ] What?

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

You wanted soup, yeah? Here.

[wizardcop]

I don't want all of it. In any case, I left my bowl in the kitchen, so that's all yours.

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

...

[Holds a spoon-full out to him.] I will feed this to you.

[wizardcop]

Kara, stop.

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

[She does stop, amazingly enough, and just looks at him.]

[wizardcop]

I am sorry. I realize I'm not the easiest person to get along with, and... well, I'm tired of every conversation we have becoming a fight. It's exhausting, and frustrating, and it gets us nowhere.

Don't expect me to become your best friend, but I'll do my best to be a little nicer- and I don't mind making you dinner once in a while, if you don't mind tolerating my limited cooking abilities.

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

[She... does not know what to say to that. The last thing she was expecting was an apology--maybe a "get out of my house". She shifts a bit, a little uncomfortably.]

... Maybe I'll spring for Indian food next time?

[Which is her way of saying "It's okay". Or something.]

[wizardcop]

Fair enough. And don't think you're getting out of helping with this. [ taps a finger on the paperwork on his desk ]

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

Yeah yeah...

[She'll just be plopping down on the floor next to you, holding out a hand for... something.]

[wizardcop]

Try not to spill soup on it. [ hands over some of the papers ]

[salamandher.livejournal.com]

That would be a waste of perfectly good soup, and I am starving.

[That said, she'll take the papers, balance them on a random book and attack them between nomming the soup.]