Post Thanksgiving Dinner, from the episode "Chasing Ghosts".

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: New Orleans. This is the creation of Mark Harmon et al.

Updated April 2015

Kitchen

NCIS New Orleans HQ

2200 hours local

Meredith Brody scrubbed the plate aggressively for the umpteenth time like a carpenter polishing a wooden surface. Suddenly, a hand reached out to touch the plate.

"Hey!" She yelled. ":LaSalle! Stop it!"

"Stop what?" The Alabama boy said. "I'm trying to help out; there are a lot of plates."

"Stop it, I like washing up by myself," Brody mumbled. "And my hands soapy."

"My hands are soapy…too," Christopher LaSalle replied, then tried to remember where he heard that sort of line from. "Oh come on," he looked at the Mid-West agent scrubbing the plate. "It was just a small competition. Your dish tasted great. It had the…"

"It lacked the smallest tinge of salt and the amount of nutmeg was too much," Brody continued to mumble and scrub super hard at the plates. "And I didn't even get second place!" She smacked the cleaned plate hard against the dish drainer.

"Sebastian had a whole chemical lab to himself, don't blame yourself," LaSalle said, dipping his hand into the soapy water again to help out. He again made contact with his partner's hand which withdrew sharply.

"LaSalle, I said stop it. Sometimes you can be too kind," Brody whined, and then wondered about the last word she used.

"Thanks for that, I'm flattered," he grinned his signature smile.

The short-haired agent finished off the last of the plates and wiped the sink clean. LaSalle continued, "So, let's get a drink from the pub across the street? I hear they have free flows from now till midnight."

"Uh-nuh," she replied, wiping her hands dry.

"Non-alcoholic? There's a nice café before the French Quarter with good South American hot chocolate."

She shook her head. "Definitely not in the New Orleans Weather. Look, I know you want to cheer me up but it's not a big issue."

"I want to show you more than work life over here," LaSalle chose his words carefully. "Say we do trade-off."

"Trade-off?" What does he have planned? She thought.

"I'll give you a crash course in some Southern cuisine while you teach me Aikido."

A minute of silence settled across the room. This Alabama guy wants to teach me how to cook? I'm not that terrible a chef, just need to get the balance right. Across from her, LaSalle's brain was rapidly spinning. What on earth did I just say to her? Learn Aikido?

"You two finished yet? I have to cut the power for the night or the bill will be damn high," the voice of Dwayne Pride suddenly called, breaking their thoughts.

"Yep King," LaSalle called. Then he waited for her answer, holding his breath.

Meredith Brody gave a glanced at him once more as the lights flickered out. It's only a cooking session, she thought. "Very well, LaSalle. But of course not now, I want to hit the sack."

Oh boy, oh boy, yes! He thought. "Tomorrow? Your place?"

"My kitchen is still not fully functional. Yours?"

They both settled for a mid afternoon at his house. It's a simple martial arts training and simple cooking lesson, both of them thought. What could possibly happen?

To Be Continued.