Dinner at home - locked to Lou

[anddowntothesea]

It's one of his most closely guarded secrets - the fact that he can actually cook. He bakes, too. His Ma was determined that she wasn't going to raise any sons who were a burden on wives. As it turned out, wives had been purely theoretical, but Gabriel Monroe is a man that can look after himself.

When the doorbell rings, he opens the door in jeans and plaid rolled up to his elbows. He smiles.

"I was halfway expecting you to cancel."

Comments

[louise_abasi]

That was fair enough, Louise had considered finding an excuse thrice. "I've had men cook for me since I was very small, I think I can survive this dinner as well."
Was this really her first sentence? "Hello, Gabe. It's nice of you to have me."

[anddowntothesea]

Always, this adversarial tone. He finds himself almost craving it.

He steps aside to let her into the house. "Well. You look lovely. C'mon in."

[louise_abasi]

"Thanks. Thank you." She's stupidly nervous. Again. "It smells good. What's for dinner? Should I have brought anything?"

[anddowntothesea]

"Fish soup and Thai curry to follow," he says, shutting the door behind her, offering his hands to take her coat. "And, no, you didn't. I've got wine. I've beer. I've got dessert."

[louise_abasi]

"You've got plans", and her smile is maybe closer to a grin, but only because this sounds like a date. "And you made all of it, from scratch?"

[anddowntothesea]

"Everything not in a bottle made with my own two hands," he says, leading her into the kitchen at the back of the house. Stone floored. The table big and scarred. He pulls out a chair for her. "Can I get you a drink?"

[louise_abasi]

It was beautiful, in a way Gabe was beautiful. Authentic, smooth. She sits down and nods. "Do you mind if I just start with a water? I haven't eaten anything, and I don't want to fall over before the first course."

[anddowntothesea]

"Water, I can do." There's a stone jug of stuff that's been through a filter in the big, old refrigerator. He grabs it, filling a tall glass before setting it down in front of her.

"I promise not to ply you with too much alcohol," he says, turning back to the stove.

[louise_abasi]

"I promise to try my best to be pleasant company in a way that doesn't need alcohol." Oh God, does she hear herself? Louise covers her face with a hand. "Forget I said that."

[anddowntothesea]

"I absolutely will not," says Gabe, lifting the lid off a pot and stirring, all kinds of delicious smells filling the kitchen. "You're always excellent company."

[louise_abasi]

"You keep notes on me?" She sniffs, visibly. "It smells lovely, Gabe."

[anddowntothesea]

"Not notes, no, but I do cherish what memories I have." He sets the lid back on the pot. "That, is my Ma's recipe. And it's going to need another couple of minutes."

He goes to pass his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that he falls into when he's around her, but finds it tied back for cooking.

[louise_abasi]

"That sounds-" Her vocabulary seems to dry up around the man, and Louise rolls her eyes at herself, mind searching for something that will move the conversation in at least some kind of direction. "You inherited recipes."

[anddowntothesea]

Open the fridge again, Gabe snags a beer and opens it, taking a long swallow as he turns back towards the table.

"Well, the woman isn't dead, so I wouldn't call it 'inherited' but, aye. Passed down through the generations from the old country."

[louise_abasi]

"Oh."

She swallows. Nicely done, again. "It's great that she was eager to share such knowledge. If she was eager. I'm just saying that I appreciate it that someone taught you how to cook."

[anddowntothesea]

"Ma's big on tradition. It kills her that I'm in my thirties and not married yet," he says, leaning back in his chair a little and grinning at her. "She's living with it, but she's really not happy."

[louise_abasi]

"My father is disappointed in the heterosexual male part of the world, but I'm pretty sure that he doesn't mind it too much, having his only daughter still being his little girl." She sips her water. "My mother probably just gave up on all of us and the chance- she did."

[anddowntothesea]

"Parental expectations, huh?" he says, setting down his beer and getting up again. He goes back to the stove and ladles out two bowls of soup, bringing them back to the table, setting Lou's down in front of her first. There's a board of bread cut already and he brings that, too.

"Anything else you need?"

[louise_abasi]

"It looks so hardy and rustic", she grins. "It could almost star in a gentleman's magazine. No, Gabe, I don't need anything right now, thank you. Come sit, enjoy your meal. Be a conversational partner, not just a cook."

[anddowntothesea]

"I'm a complete package," he says, grinning, sitting down opposite her and immediately reaching for bread. He tears it, dipping into his soup before popping it into his mouth. "So, have you got plans later or can we take our time?"

[louise_abasi]

"I just want to have dinner with you." She curls her feet under the chair. "If you're not in a hurry, neither am I."

[anddowntothesea]

"Sweetheart, I've got all of the time in the world for you," he says, with a dip of his head, before he takes another bite of his food. "How's work?"

[louise_abasi]

"I've never experienced having a colleague I want to see hurt before." She only minds the title partly. It fits the setting, right now. "Yours?"

[anddowntothesea]

"Oh, never mind me," he says, grinning at her, reaching for his beer. "I want to hear more about that."

[louise_abasi]

She cocks an eyebrow. "Schadenfreude, Gabe?"