#kc_necropolis

"Hope they don't take the hit."

"Sidhe?"

"Sidhe, all they need to do is go cry to a Gwydion, they'll be fine."

*Emerson's cooking is complimented*

"Oh, very kind, I'm sure. I have challenged Janet's palette often enough; I thought something more simple would be a change of pace, and doing the simple well can be the mark of a master." Mildly.

"Elegance is th'key of all craftsmanship"

"Huh. And did it without setting off any of the fire alarms, too." *Apparently yes, this IS a big deal*

"Fire alarms let you know it's cooked through!"

"Ice." Patiently "Temperature. Control."

He points his fork at the Nocker, in response to EBG's comment*

"Didn't say it was just -me-."

"She makes sure everything gets cooked all the way through."

A soft, pained groan.

"Nobody gettin' salmon-ella in my house."

"You tell 'em, Ma." Half the time, nobody gets dinner, either...*

"Honestly..." He mutters.

"And th'chinese place knows our order by heart, anyways..."

He'll take his plate to the sink, he's well-trained* "One time, we'll have to pick some up, treat Mr. Emerson to supper, right, Ma? He's always bringing things over, should return the favor." He rinses the plate and sets it down* "I should go, meeting someone at Firnost, don't want to be late. You be okay here alone tonight, Ma?"

He smiles and lifts an eyebrow at Janet as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

"I think I'll manage. Thanks for stickin' around a bit. Damn dementia, might risk forgettin' yer ugly mug." A flash of shark's teeth and backhanded love.

"Yeah? I'll be back before that happens. At least we don't have to worry about you falling down, breaking a hip. Another one. Again." He....even gives Janet an absent peck on the head as he passes* "Good night, Mr. Emerson, thanks for dinner."

"Most welcome, Ice." Smoothly. "Drive safely."

"You hear this? A mother's only son... oy, I'll be lying in the basement, cold..."

"Oohhh... not in the basement, I hope. And not cold." He sips his tea, and gives her a roguish grin.

"Go, go, have adventures. I'll just sit here." She can't kvetch with a straight face, cracking into a grin and waving him off.

*A twist of a grin, grabbing his jacket and helmet out of the closet and lifting chin in a farewell as he goes. He's careful to lock the door after him on his way out*

"Dear me, he's locked us in." Mildly.

And not long after, the sound of the motorcycle's engine starting, soon to fade away down the street*

"Oh no. Whatever shall we do?" She smirks.

He chuckles. "Up to you, of course, as always. If you'll excuse me, while you think, I'll tidy up in here?"

"Hmph. You call THIS a mess? C'mon, Bill, let me educate you..." up to her feet, and a tweak of his vest as she heads for the bedroom.

He cocks an eyebrow and follows. "Well now, bold lady, an education is it?"

"You wanna know?" A wicked grin, and she's off.

"I think in the interests of ... Mmmmph!!" And so is he.

I think it's best, yes.