MCA #1, Wednesday Evening

[one_who_goes]

Unaware of disaster lurking elsewhere on the island, Henry was more than ready for his ... date. Date-type thing. He'd turned off his phones, stocked up with some wine, and put a soundtrack on the stereo that felt like a nice compromise between his usual tastes and what Cindy might enjoy

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[steel_not_glass]

They hadn't actually specified a time for her to come over, but it was later than she would have liked when Cindy knocked on his door. Cooking meant grocery shopping. And since she had no idea what a bachelor like Henry might have in his pantry, grocery shopping had involved getting everything she thought she might need, down to the spices.

And it was all getting left at his place when she was done. She'd done more than enough cooking (and sweeping and scrubbing and mending) for several lifetimes, thanks. Several Fable lifetimes actually.

On the bright side, grumbling about cooking was doing an excellent job of keeping her from getting nervous about this Date-type thing. Casual sex was one thing. Dating as part of an assignment was another. Going out on a real date with someone? As part of a possible real relationship? Cindy hadn't done that since before her second marriage.

And look how well that turned out.

[one_who_goes]

As it happened, Henry liked to cook (and had been married to a woman who couldn't cook for most of a decade); he had a well-stocked kitchen for someone who lived on his own.

He turned down the music, counted to ten so he wouldn't seem too eager, and walked over to the door. "Hello," he said, smiling at Cindy. He gave the bags a questioning glance. "That .... looks heavy. Can I help?"

[steel_not_glass]

Technically, Cindy could flip cars when she needed to. This? Was so not one of those times.

"Please do," she said, handing over one of the bags with unfeigned gratitude. Just because she could carry them all didn't mean she wanted to. Much like cooking.

"So my brilliant plan of getting take out and passing it off as my own--" while the food was still in the original containers, no less "--was stymied, more's the pity," she announced as she followed Henry into the kitchen. "So it looks like you get to have a real, Cindy-cooked meal. These don't happen often, so feel special," she added with a wink.

[one_who_goes]

"I'll decide if I feel special or not after I taste the food," Henry laughed, and started unpacking one of the bags onto his counter. He was idly trying to figure out how they all would fit into a single dish. "What made you change your cunning take-out plan?"