"No ... no I've got it." Totally. Absolutely. So what if they're a little ... dark. Dark is good, right?
She's going to go with dark being good.
She takes the spatula and slides the pancakes off the griddle and onto the serving plate, before glancing back over her shoulder at him. "Do you want anything to drink?"
His voice is soft and insistent, and not without a hint of that trademark, subtle Wuornos fondness while he ignores her question for the time being. Nathan approaches her until he's right beside her, a hand covering her own as it holds on to the spatula. He can't feel the wooden handle at his palm. He can't feel the counter that brushes against his hip.
But he can feel her hand.
"You might want to reconsider," he warns, lips almost twitching in amusement. It's a miracle! (Also, he notices the darkness of those pancakes.)
There's a part of her that hitches at the feel of his hand. While it's nothing new for him, the soft insistence and sudden nearness of him is enough to draw her attention from what she's doing momentarily. Her eyes shoot up to meet his and she holds that gaze for a moment, before pursing her lips and looking away.
"Don't trust me to handle a couple pancakes myself?"
That's what it is. It couldn't possibly be that he just wanted to be closer to her, shh. A faint, amused smile appears on his face. It's a blink and you miss it sort of thing, the kind of gesture only someone that knows him really well would probably catch. Nathan's not exactly someone that is outwardly expressive or chatty, but he has a sense of humor.
"I'm supervising," he corrects her. As a connoisseur of pancakes, it's only his duty, alright?
Fine. He can supervise. She slides the last few off pancakes onto a plate, before turning to hand them off to him. "If you want to put these on the table, I will get the drinks?"
Nathan dutifully takes the plate from her and makes his way over to the table. There should be a rulebook for this kind of thing, something that lets him know if things are going well or if he should quit while he's ahead and try something else. This is Audrey, and his heart is already in this.
It has been for a really long time, even before he knew it.
"I'm surprised our phones are quiet," he says by way of conversation. Something is always happening in Haven, and while he's thankful tonight seems to be the exception to their incontrovertible norm, he can't help but make note of it. No case to solve, no meddling journalists poking their heads in.
No Duke sauntering through her place with that trademark smirk that makes Nathan want to punch it out of him.
"I guess Haven must have decided to cut us a break."
Duke knows better to swing through here tonight. Audrey told him that under no uncertain terms did she need her landlord to check in on her tonight. She wants this time alone with Nathan, time that they so rarely get, and she's not going to pass it up for anything.
(She may have given the same speech to the desk sergeant, that he was only supposed to bother them if it was a genuine guaranteed Trouble emergency. Maybe Haven got the message as well.
Or maybe that's just inviting one of their phones to ring.)
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no subject
She's going to go with dark being good.
She takes the spatula and slides the pancakes off the griddle and onto the serving plate, before glancing back over her shoulder at him. "Do you want anything to drink?"
have i mentioned i love them? bc i love them.
His voice is soft and insistent, and not without a hint of that trademark, subtle Wuornos fondness while he ignores her question for the time being. Nathan approaches her until he's right beside her, a hand covering her own as it holds on to the spatula. He can't feel the wooden handle at his palm. He can't feel the counter that brushes against his hip.
But he can feel her hand.
"You might want to reconsider," he warns, lips almost twitching in amusement. It's a miracle! (Also, he notices the darkness of those pancakes.)
they are the best /chinhands
"Don't trust me to handle a couple pancakes myself?"
Because it's really not that hard to do.
no subject
That's what it is. It couldn't possibly be that he just wanted to be closer to her, shh. A faint, amused smile appears on his face. It's a blink and you miss it sort of thing, the kind of gesture only someone that knows him really well would probably catch. Nathan's not exactly someone that is outwardly expressive or chatty, but he has a sense of humor.
"I'm supervising," he corrects her. As a connoisseur of pancakes, it's only his duty, alright?
no subject
Fine. He can supervise. She slides the last few off pancakes onto a plate, before turning to hand them off to him. "If you want to put these on the table, I will get the drinks?"
no subject
Nathan dutifully takes the plate from her and makes his way over to the table. There should be a rulebook for this kind of thing, something that lets him know if things are going well or if he should quit while he's ahead and try something else. This is Audrey, and his heart is already in this.
It has been for a really long time, even before he knew it.
"I'm surprised our phones are quiet," he says by way of conversation. Something is always happening in Haven, and while he's thankful tonight seems to be the exception to their incontrovertible norm, he can't help but make note of it. No case to solve, no meddling journalists poking their heads in.
No Duke sauntering through her place with that trademark smirk that makes Nathan want to punch it out of him.
no subject
Duke knows better to swing through here tonight. Audrey told him that under no uncertain terms did she need her landlord to check in on her tonight. She wants this time alone with Nathan, time that they so rarely get, and she's not going to pass it up for anything.
(She may have given the same speech to the desk sergeant, that he was only supposed to bother them if it was a genuine guaranteed Trouble emergency. Maybe Haven got the message as well.
Or maybe that's just inviting one of their phones to ring.)
"Let's hope you didn't jinx it."