"Roy!"
The loud drawn out word was enough for Chet to raise his head from his book and glance in the direction of the noise.
"That's not what I meant."
"Yeah? What did you mean?"
Two doors slammed shut and two sets of feet shuffled out of the bay area and into the kitchen. Roy past right behind Chet's chair, ignoring Chet's quizzical look and buried his head in the fridge.
"It's on the stove," Chet called over Johnny's I's and ums as he sought an answer to Roy's question.
The fridge door swung shut and Roy walked to the stove lifting the lid off the pot with a 'ping' and glancing at the stew. Johnny followed grabbing two bowls, carrying on about young children, and Chet gave up trying to understand, glancing back at his book.
"What in the world is that?" Roy suddenly asked, halting Johnny's ranting as he leaned over to peek at the pot.
They both turned glancing at Chet, their faces in a disgusted frown. Chet smiled and slumped down in his chair bring the book closer to his face.
The two paramedics shared a look before glancing back down at the pot in Roy's hands. Turning to put the pot back on the stove, Roy replaced the lid with a clamor and Johnny stuck his head back in the fridge.
"If you're looking for the left overs, don't. The guys already ate everything that was in there." Chet called over his shoulder.
"Everything?" Johnny asked, opening and closing every drawer in the fridge.
"Everything." Chet repeated.
There was a few more moments of noise as Johnny tried to will something to appear in the fridge but finally shut the door with a shrug.
"I guess they did." His hands slid into his pockets and he stared at the floor disappointed.
It had been Chet's turn to cook, so who knew what was in the pot on the stove.
"Say, where is everyone?" Roy asked, as he nudged Johnny back to the stove carefully dipping out to bowlfuls of whatever it was in the pot.
"Cap's in his office. Marco and Mike are out back." The answer was given distractedly as Chet never lifted his eyes from his book.
The room grew quiet as Roy and Johnny stared down into their bowls. The stuff looked disgusting, it smell disgusting and neither wanted to try it. They attentively dipped their spoons into their bowls at the same time, each waiting for the other to take the first bite.
Chet secretly waited, although he gave no appearance that he was, his anticipation rising with each second. His mustache twitch as he hid his smile, and the book somehow was drawn closer to his face until it was practically hidden.
Johnny raised his spoon first, in a brave effort to take a bite. Roy slowly lifted his, watching carefully and waiting. The spoon made it all the way to John's mouth, him frowning at it the whole way up, and Roy had his halfway there…
"You know Roy," Johnny began, his spoon falling back into its bowl and Roy's doing likewise.
"Yeah?" Roy responded, grateful that someone thought of something to keep him from taking a bite.
Chet visibly frowned. His patience was starting to disperse. Why couldn't they just take a bite? Just one, that's all anyone needed.
"We forgot to pick up the stuff at Rampart on our way back."
"You're right," Roy snapped his fingers.
"We should probably…" Their bowls were hastily set down and both took a step towards the door. "go get them before―"
"You outta eat something first, Gage," Chet interrupted from his book. "Unless, of course, you're afraid to eat my cooking." Chet glanced up from his book, taunting Johnny.
The paramedic frowned at the back of Chet's head as the face once more disappeared into the book.
Roy shrugged and the two once more picked up their bowls. The spoons where dipped in carefully, and the terrible smelling stuff was brought slowly to their mouths. Chet once more tensed waiting for the moment, his mustache twitching again. Johnny frowned at the spoon all the way up, and was just about to take that terrible bite when…
"Squad 51. Possible heart attack on 1611 East Abri Street…"
The two paramedics slammed their bowls on the counter, Johnny mumbling a "Saved by the bell," and Roy agreeing, as Chet hopped up to take the address, inwardly frowning with disappointment as the two had escaped him.