Audience: Yuri Leclerc

[probe]

Comments

[probe]

wow i didn't say that!
i'll have you know my tastes are extremely high class so you're going to have to do a lot to impress me
be there in a minute

[but she will come to the kitchen, soon enough, hood down, gloves on.]

[aubins]

mmhmm. your reservation awaits, milady.

[ he's digging through the pantry for ingredients when she comes in. there's the usual - potatoes, some green beans and ingredients for a sauce already out and he's examining two different steaks like they're about to give him the answers to life, the universe and everything. ]

Welcome.

[probe]

[she nyooms over, resting a hand on his back as she peers at his food in progress.]

Oooh. People don't usually cook for me. [she says, tilting her head.] Very fancy.

[aubins]

[ welcome to le restaurant du leclerc, lup. ]

You more of the cook yourself? [ hehe ] I had to learn, and then it turned out I actually kinda enjoyed it. And had a knack for it.

[ he selects one of the steaks and holds it up for her approval. ]

This one, I think.

[probe]

I prefer to be the cook most of the time. It's kind of uh, my thing. [but she doesn't seem bothered by this, and she even nods.]

Looks good to me.

[aubins]

Ah, then I'll have to ask you to be gentle with your critique of whatever I make you.

[ he sounds like he's being a little shit, because he is. incredible. ]

You're a chef? Or is it just recreational?

[probe]

Recreational, but uh. My brother and I spent most of a hundred years figuring out how to perfect it!

[ahh, hello, here's a bit of homesickness.] I'm going to Fantasy Gordon Ramsey you so hard.

[aubins]

No pressure then.

[ he's making a start on the veg first, because that'll take longer. wafty hands as he chops stuff. ]

I have no idea who that is, yet somehow I am immediately menaced. [ he does not sound menaced. ]

[probe]

You should, because you know I'm gonna shake you down about being rude to Greed, right? [she says it lightly, but.]

[aubins]

[ a sigh. ]

I was under the impression that talking about the topic directly was a bad idea. Talking around it ended up a bit... [ he raises his hands and smacks them together. unstoppable force and immoveable object. ]

Not my finest hour, no.

[ he glances side ways at her before picking up some of the vegetables ]

And now everyone’s yelled about the exact thing I thought was preferable to not yell about openly, it feels even more redundant.

[probe]

My darling, sweet, dingus of a man, I don't think it was because of that. I think it was because you came storming in demanding to see their neck or else. Did you know that's the worst way to start a conversation with someone who doesn't like their face to be seen?

[she says this so lovingly. she also pinches his side.] Definitely not your finest hour.

[aubins]

[ no his side!!! ]

Ask without asking, that was the plan.

[ he waves a potato with a flat face. exhausting. ]

We can see how that worked out. But, no. Not the best way around it. [ how. how long has everyone been here that faces being hidden is more of the norm? ] "Or else" wasn't really meant to be implied.

[ ... ]

That’s been happening every week since we got here...?

[probe]

I feel like you've uh, you've seen enough of Greed to know they don't respond well to that. [but she'll ease up.]

... What has?

[aubins]

[ he just looks at her, and then leans to the side to bump his head against the side of hers lightly. ]

Thiiiiis is what I mean. Don't worry about it, it's not important.

Or not important enough to risk anything happening. Don't mind if I message you on Friday though, assuming I don't get myself wrapped up in something stupid.

[probe]

[there's a little buzz of... disappointment? confusion? she's genuinely not sure what he's referring to.]

I - okay? Sure. I don't ever mind you messaging me on Fridays.

[aubins]

[ there is something a little.... not annoyed? that's not the word for it. it's frustration, with some annoyance and a little regret, all mixed together. but not directed at her. ]

At this point I don't know what is and isn't safe for you to talk about, really. That's all.

[ he looks out for his own, he's said that plenty of times. ]

Not until I know more, and where the lines are drawn. [ ... ] 'Sides. Messaging you on Friday is always a pleasure. [ and a relief, sometimes. that he's, y'know. not dead. ]

...

C'mon. I was making you dinner, wasn't I? Rare, medium-rare, or medium? [ fuck well-done. ]

[probe]

[she just sort of is making simple dog confusion emotions at the frustration and annoyance but.

she opens her mouth to say something, but he moves on, and she just frowns instead, ears twitching back against her skull.]

Medium-rare, I'm not a heathen.

[aubins]

Medium-rare it is.

[ veggies and stuff are probably prepped. so. wavey hand motions, he'll just do those in a way that means i don't have to in detail describe yuri mashing potatoes. it might be the content we're all here for but-- ]

Sorry though. I'll figure it out, and how much is okay to say. [ his emotions are evening out the more he's cooking though. that's good? ]

[probe]

... Okay.

[she's worried, but that doesn't stop her from wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face against his back, between his shoulder blades.]

[aubins]

[ he moves an arm so he can give one of her hands a squeeze. but after a moment he'll properly wriggle around so he can hug her. ]

C'mere.

[ the hug is making him feel a lot calmer too? ]

This was supposed to be something fun and nice, and I'm already dragging the tone down, huh?

[probe]

No, it's not you.

[she eases up when he wriggles her around, and just rests her head on his chest instead.]

It's, uh. It's my bad, for bringing it up. It's okay. [she leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, and then back down again.] ... You don't have to keep things from me is all.

[aubins]

Nah. Like you said, I was kind of a dick.

[ oh, a kiss. that's nice though. ]

I'll try not to. I'll figure out something before the week end though.

[probe]

[snort.]

Okay. [she hugs him a little more tightly.] Need me to help cook?

[aubins]

[ hugs! ]

It'd be rude to make you cook your own treat? ... But if you want to get involved, what kind of sauce do you want?

[probe]

[she laughs a little.] That's right, you're spoiling me. Uh - I don't know, surprise me. I'm just going to sit on the counter and get drunk while you cook me steak, actually!