[ She's giggling as she opens the door for him. ] Didn't take you that long to get here. I just finished inventory of what I have on hand and what I'll need.
[ She frowns a little, ] Hm, is it all right that I haven't kept a kosher kitchen? I know the rules in general, but not specific.
[Egon's breathing a little hard, indicative that he might have power-walked here.]
[Snort.] I haven't eaten kosher since I moved out of my parents' house almost twenty years ago.
[He realizes that he just revealed his age and glances at her to see her reaction. He's not vain, just aware that he's older than most of his friends, particularly the other Ghostbusters, and he's become a bit sensitive on the subject.]
[ Nope, not getting the expected reaction, she just laughs ] So we're going for cultural evocation rather than accuracy. That I can do. Come on in.
[ She serves him iced tea in the kitchen. There's several lists on the table, and she shifts a few of them out of the way. The list on top is a hastily scrawled (and incomplete) kashering checklist. The list that gets her attention is the pantry inventory, and a blank sheet of paper. ]
All right, first the framework. When do you want to have this, what do you want to serve, where would you like to hold it, and how many guests?
[ She's been out of the culinary academy eight years, but that doesn't mean she hasn't catered in that long. ]
[He gives a bashful smile of relief. The pressure of organizing a social gathering is enough to make him clam up impenetrably.]
To be perfectly honest I was feeling homesick. [He lets out a deep breath.] Missing people, reliving memories of being with family...
Jewish dishes were popular with my mom's side of the family and it being Rosh Hashanah, it only felt appropriate to inquire if you knew how to make any.
[ Ilsa gently touches his hand, a fleeting contact with a touch of comfort projection behind it. ] So, I can make this tonight, and you come over for dinner. Stop by the tavern and get a good red wine, and we'll have a home-style meal for you.
[Ah, that flood of comfort. She's coddling him again and he's been noticing it increasingly lately. And yet he keeps coming back to her whenever his mood slumps. Go figure.
Egon's smiling more than he has since he arrived here almost three weeks ago. He gives her the most genuine look he can manage.]
[If she's capable of sensing the distinction, Ilsa may find that Egon's sudden joy isn't wholly a result of her projection (but that helped); it's genuine.
His thoughts get pulled off in the direction of home and he sits in silence for a moment, staring wistfully across the room at some indeterminate spot.
Egon is determined that if he keeps up his work he'll find a way to get everyone out of there. There has to be a way.
His eyes finally focus back on Ilsa and his faint smile broadens.]
[He sighs and doesn't argue this time. No matter how well he explains his routine or work schedule and no matter how much sense it makes in his head, she's not going to approve.
Still, approval or not, he fully intends to keep it up. Stubborn and tenacious are his middle and last names respectively.]
You'll have your work cut out for you. [Said rather matter-of-factly, with maybe a teeeeeeeeny hint of a smirk.]
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I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
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[ She frowns a little, ] Hm, is it all right that I haven't kept a kosher kitchen? I know the rules in general, but not specific.
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[Snort.] I haven't eaten kosher since I moved out of my parents' house almost twenty years ago.
[He realizes that he just revealed his age and glances at her to see her reaction. He's not vain, just aware that he's older than most of his friends, particularly the other Ghostbusters, and he's become a bit sensitive on the subject.]
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[ She serves him iced tea in the kitchen. There's several lists on the table, and she shifts a few of them out of the way. The list on top is a hastily scrawled (and incomplete) kashering checklist. The list that gets her attention is the pantry inventory, and a blank sheet of paper. ]
All right, first the framework. When do you want to have this, what do you want to serve, where would you like to hold it, and how many guests?
[ She's been out of the culinary academy eight years, but that doesn't mean she hasn't catered in that long. ]
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He pauses and stares at her as he takes a glass of iced tea.]
We're having a party?
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[ She is smiling, and teasing just a bit. ]
You're driving the bus, but I'm letting you know which roads are open.
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To be perfectly honest I was feeling homesick. [He lets out a deep breath.] Missing people, reliving memories of being with family...
Jewish dishes were popular with my mom's side of the family and it being Rosh Hashanah, it only felt appropriate to inquire if you knew how to make any.
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Egon's smiling more than he has since he arrived here almost three weeks ago. He gives her the most genuine look he can manage.]
Thank you. Really.
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Anything I can do to make things easier until we can get home.
[ She's a little worried that she might be overdoing it, or that he has very little joy in his life at home. ]
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His thoughts get pulled off in the direction of home and he sits in silence for a moment, staring wistfully across the room at some indeterminate spot.
Egon is determined that if he keeps up his work he'll find a way to get everyone out of there. There has to be a way.
His eyes finally focus back on Ilsa and his faint smile broadens.]
Very soon now.
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If I can help, I will. Sometimes it might just be making sure you eat and sleep, so you don't burn out.
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Still, approval or not, he fully intends to keep it up. Stubborn and tenacious are his middle and last names respectively.]
You'll have your work cut out for you. [Said rather matter-of-factly, with maybe a teeeeeeeeny hint of a smirk.]
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