(Untitled)

[handandahalf]

In an effort to equalize the distribution of work at home, Jon had undertaken a project : he was teaching himself to cook.

Actually, he reflected, a more accurate description would be that he was trying to teach himself to cook.

It had begun a few weeks ago, when the bookshelf had offered him row upon row of a book called The Joy of Cooking. It

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[broken_brushes]

I'd come into the kitchen to check on a batch of muffins to find That Guy Who Looked Like Dr. Garrigan (Seen many times but never introduced) covered with something that might have been sauce and cursing at the stove. Quietly, I opened one of the cupboards, drew out a clean hand towel, and passed it over.

"This is why I always correct people when they assume I'm good at cooking," I remarked with a sympathetic smile.

[handandahalf]

"My thanks," Jon replied, his expression grave except for the slight tilt of a smile at the side of his mouth. "I'm little better than a novice here... apparently I've not yet discovered the joys of cooking," he concluded wryly, nodding to the recipe book sitting on the counter beside the stove. His hands mostly clean, he retied his hair at the nape of his neck and turned off the heat beneath the pot. "Think I'll just leave that sit for now... would you like anything?" he asked over his shoulder as he went toward the icebox for a drink.

[broken_brushes]

"I'm good, thanks," I replied with a smile and brief lift of my chin his way. I couldn't tell you why I bothered peering into the pot; sure, Joe had been teaching me a little about cooking, but I was far from an expert. "Maybe it needs more flour?" I suggested as I pushed the spoon around in the liquid, and then laughed, glancing back over my shoulder. "Or someone else to make it."

[handandahalf]

Jon laughed, reaching all the way in for the pitcher of iced tea. "That, I think, is nearer the mark," he admitted, getting a glass from the cabinet. "I haven't botched them all so badly, but there does seem to be some variation in how easy it is to have it all come out according to the book."

[flyboy_shepp]

John came to a stop a few steps into the kitchen, half expecting Jon to turn around and say something crazy, but half believing what he was seeing. The man was married, after all, and John knew exactly what another guy learning to cook to impress his wife looked like.

It made him laugh. Just a little.

"Having fun?"

[handandahalf]

Jon looked up with a wry smile. "Not quite the word I'd use, but I suppose since I haven't blown anything up or broken anything I can't complain." Reaching for a towel, he wiped his hands clean and turned off the flame under the pot. "I've heard of take-away food since coming here," he said in bemused resignation, "and can now say for a surety, having such a thing here would not go unappreciated."

[flyboy_shepp]

John couldn't help but chuckle as he made his way into the kitchen when it seemed like Jon's experiment was over. "Yeah," he said, taking a look around, "I'm sure Susan would appreciate it, too."

[handandahalf]

"Just now I rather think she'd trade me for a maid and babysitter if someone were to offer," he said, grinning. "If not for her brothers being so close, I would likely have been, ah, sleeping in the doghouse for quite some time." Little as he liked admitting they needed the help, it could not be denied they were lucky Rickon's uncles adored him-- and their sister-- as they did.

[eldestking]

Peter had been intending for a sandwich, but he'd walked into something else entirely. He smiled crookedly, pulling in a steadying breath before striding over to stand next to his brother-in-law. "Wouldn't it be nice if the books could do the cooking for us?" He shook his head, surveying the kitchen. It was mostly a mess, but nothing smelled disgusting, even though the contents of the pot seemed a bit dubious. Not bad. Nothing on fire or inedible just yet, which Peter considered pretty impressive.

[handandahalf]

"If only we were that lucky," Jon said crossly, flicking the switch to turn the heat off beneath the pot. "I would dearly love to apologize to any woman I ever assumed would be a natural in the kitchen-- it seems to be far more difficult than anyone ever actually lets on." He glanced at Peter with a rueful expression.

[eldestking]

He chuckled, shaking his head. "We can count my mother among them; I had no idea how talented she was until I came here, to be honest." With Professor Kirke, it was mostly sandwiches and the stray pot of soup, but he hadn't tried anything difficult. But he'd tried to cook here on a boring afternoon and had managed to leave the kitchen down a casserole dish and full of smoke. Not pleasant.

He pursed his lips a moment, looking down at the recipe. "I'd offer to help, but..." He shrugged. "I'm just as tied to the book as you are." He glanced into the pot. "Is it supposed to be quite that lumpy?"

[handandahalf]

"Susan's said she was a good cook," Jon said with a wry smile. "I suppose that's where she gets her own talent. Up til now I could have caught, skinned and cooked near any animal you might name, and started a fire to do it even in a blizzard. But anything more complex than meat on a spit or stew in a pot seems somewhat beyond me." He took the pot from the stove and dropped it into the sink, running hot water into the mess and turning his back on it with a slightly satisfied expression.

[notwithmyhand]

Alain laughed as he came into the kitchen and overheard his friends. "Mayhap you're not following it faithfully enough," he commented, moving toward the coffee pot. "Have a cup?" He offered, still looking bemused at Jon who seemed very at odds with his surroundings.

[handandahalf]

"Yes please," Jon said with a shake of his head. "I'd take a cup that size of whiskey if you had it," he went on, turning off the flame beneath the pot and collapsing into a chair. "I hope this will serve as a lesson; the next time I think I've gotten a good idea, I'll remind myself I am probably wrong."

[notwithmyhand]

"Or next time have whiskey on hand. But that I had whiskey," Alain said shaking his head sadly,. "Coffee will have to be the thing instead. Poor in it's place, as weak as this stuff is." He slid the cup over to Jon and poured his own. "Choice or punishment?"

[handandahalf]

"A bit of both," Jon laughed, sipping the coffee with a nod of approval. "My choice to punish myself, I suppose. Rickon's starting to walk now, and Susan's got her hands full, so I thought it was time I learned to be a bit more useful around the house." He took another sip and added, grinning, "I haven't told her anything of it yet, mostly because-- as you can see-- there's not much worth speaking of."