fandomhigh | Home Ec 7, Period 4, 2/16

"This week," Steve said, "we begin talking about food preparation. We begin with...knife skills. Don't panic! I'm not expecting you to be chopping up onions like a pro by the end of class. It's perfectly fine to go slowly and not cut your fingers off. But once you learn how to do things properly, and get some practice in, you'd be surprised by how much easier it becomes, and how much faster cooking goes. Someone else has already explained the rest of this much better than I ever could, so you're going to watch an episode of Good Eats." Steve cued up the projector.

When that was over, he said, "Now, we still have most of the hour left, so guess what? You're going to put what you've just learned to good use. At your stations you have everything you'll need to make the gazpacho you saw on the show--including a printout of the recipe, and gloves for use with the jalapeno. Please use them. I'm not going to make you concasse your tomatoes, of course. That's a little advanced for this class," Steve said wryly. "I've provided raw tomatoes for you to practice chopping on, and tomatoes already concasse for use in the recipe. If you feel like you need to see a segment of the episode again to get a handle on the technique, or if you have any questions, please feel free to ask. This class coming right after lunch, you might not be so excited to eat the results, but we have plastic takeaway containers, so you can always take it with you and chill it to eat later."

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Emma pretended to consider it as she looked him over. "With a nice pair of leather pants, you could be," she suggested. "I hear they get all the girls."

"I'm not British, if that escaped your observations," Alex pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "All this time we've known each other and you've yet to pick up my accent?"

"Are you saying you couldn't fake silent and surly? Do rockstars even need to talk?" she teased. "I think you just need to look good and smolder."

"Is this one of your fantasies about me that I don't know about?" Alex wondered, raising an eyebrow. "Cuz, it's kinda hot and I'm almost sad I don't have all the supplies to make it happen."

"Maaaaaybe," she drawled. "Or maybe I'm just making it up for fun right now. I'll never tell."

Not that Emma would complain if Alex ever showed up to class in leather pants. It would be a lovely view, but then she'd burn the gazpacho for sure.

"Maybe I've gained the ability to read your mind since the last time you saw me," he said, putting his fingers to his temples and looking at her very intensely.

"You wish," she laughed, her own powers uncurling just enough to give him the telepathic equivalent of blowing a kiss. "What do you think you'd see in there?"

"Naked pictures of me," he said, smug. "Of course that's what I'd see."

"I hate to burst your bubble, darling, but I don't constantly think dirty thoughts about you," Emma said, patting his hand in consolation. "If anything, I was wishing he'd show us how to brew our own espresso, which lead into wishing I'd thought to send my two not-children back through the portal hopped on sugar, to teach their parents a lesson in letting them wander about unsupervised."

"You did not feature nakedly in either of those thoughts, alas, but I'm sure I can come up with something for you, once you develop spontaneous telepathy."

"And you wouldn't tell me if you were having dirty, naked thoughts about me anyway," Alex pointed out, shaking his head. "Would you?"

"Nope. It's more fun to make you wonder," she admitted, reaching for a bell pepper to chop. "And I like seeing what you think I'm thinking."

"I could be swerving you," Alex pointed out, smirking. "I could just think of cookies and cream and milkshakes to throw you off what I'm really thinking."

"You enjoy knowing that I know what you're plotting," Emma retorted. "I think you like letting me overhear things, just enough to get me curious. It flatters your ego, which, by the way, needs no flattering."

"I can't help it if you're an eavesdropper who can't control her curiosity," Alex said, shrugging. "That's on you, babe. Not me."

"Lies and slander," Emma quipped. "I cannot be held responsible if you're loud and waving shiny things. That's like asking someone to go out to the bar with you, and then expecting them to be the designated driver."

"Oh, so it's my fault that you're nosy?" Alex asked, amused. "Do you ever take responsibility for your nefarious ways, Emma?"

"'Nefarious?' Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Karev," she teased. "Not in class, at least."

"What does it get me outta class?" Alex had to wonder. "Something good?"

"A beer and a game of pool?" Emma offered. "Or maybe finding trouble in the city."

"I'd take either, honestly," Alex said, nodding. "Haven't had either in awhile. Could be a good time."

Home Ec 7, Period 4, 2/16

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