Title: Take Out
Author: S J Smith-Evil_Little_Dog
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I don't make any money.
Summary: Parker's cooking. Oops.
Peeling off his jacket as he walked through the door, Eliot hesitated, sniffing the air. He shot Hardison a look, hurrying across the room to the couch. Leaning down, he whispered, "What is that smell?"
Hardison actually raised his hands off his keypad and spread them. "Parker's cooking."
Eliot considered that for two beats. "That's it, I'm out of here."
A hard hand grabbed his shirt before he could take a step. "You can't leave me, man."
"Hardison, Parker's cooking. That means it could be, I don't know, toxic!" He was pleased he managed to keep his voice low enough to keep it just between the two of them, because if Parker'd actually heard him, well, her knife-throwing lessons were going a little too well.
"I know! That's why you can't leave me!" Hardison gave Eliot the best puppy eyes outside of a puppy.
Eliot chuckled, low and deep in his throat. "Oh, man, you are asking too much. Too much!"
Hardison licked his lips. "Eliot. Man. I'll share my orange sodas!"
"I don't know if my stomach is worth your orange sodas!"
"Hey!" Both men leaped apart at the sound of Parker's chirpy voice. "What's going on?" She looked between them. "Are you fighting? Again?"
"No, babe, we're not fighting," Hardison managed a smile.
Eliot shook his head, and had to brush his hair back out of his eyes. "I was just saying, we haven't gone out to eat for a while. Watcha say, Parker?" He smiled hopefully.
She pouted. "But I cooked!"
Eliot took one of her hands. "I know, darlin', that's why I want to take us out to dinner."
Hardison took her other hand. "Please?"
Parker scrunched up her face, glaring at them both. "But I worked all day!"
"Without Eliot's supervision. You know he's the cook."
"Chef," Eliot said.
Hardison scowled at him. "iChef./i But babe, you know you're just as apt to boil water as anything."
Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. But you can at least see what I did for supper, before we go out." Pulling her hands free, she twitched off to the kitchen.
Eliot and Hardison exchanged a look, and followed her. Parker turned a pirouette as they entered the kitchen, showing off hot plates of steaming food, and a bunch of take-out cartons.
"Parker," Hardison said, staring around. "Babe, when did you? I've been here all day?"
Eliot shook his head, reaching for the closest plate. "She's a master thief, Hardison." Saluting her with his fork, he dug in.
"Besides, Eliot's the one who makes cooking look easy. Not me." Parker grabbed her own plate. "I make thieving look easy."
"Right, right," Hardison agreed, accepting the final plate. "And babe? This is the perfect meal."
Eliot rolled his eyes. "You'd say that about a bag of cheese doodles."
"Shut up and eat your damned food!" Hardison shouted. "I'll have you know, I have a very refined palette!"
Parker snickered, and Eliot smiled, thinking it might be the best meal he'd had in a while.
~ end ~