A Shopping Trip

"Come on, Yuri. No ice cream this week."

"Why? It's just one box."

"You haven't finished the last one."

"I don't like mint."

"Well, you should have thought about that when you were begging for me to buy it for you."

"I wasn't begging."

"Yes, you were."

Yuri puts on his best mock pout – lips slightly turned, eyes downcast, a combination that always cut through even the strongest of Flynn's defenses – and sets the box on another shelf.

"Well, all right," he says, "if you insist."

"At least put it back in the freezers. Imagine the poor guy who has to come clean up the mess when it melts."

Yuri takes the box of ice cream sandwiches (vanilla, far superior to mint), but the pout is gone and he's laughing now. "You're no fun," he says as he walks back to the last aisle.

"Honestly, bringing you out for groceries is like bringing a child," Flynn tells him when he returns – this time with a colorful package of popsicles. Yuri tosses it in the cart, and not for the first time, Flynn relents.

"Yeah, but think of how bored you'd be without me. Oh, look, Gushers are on sale-"

"No."

"Aw, c'mon, Mom."

"No." Flynn pulls a list from his bag. "Let's see… Bread, got that. Peanut butter. Dog treats for Repede. Apples, peaches for the pie-"

"Peach pie? That calls for whipped cream."

A hand snakes out and grabs Yuri by the elbow before he can dart back to the desserts section. "Don't you dare."

"But that's the best part!"

"You'll be lucky if you get a piece now," Flynn says, never once looking up from his list. "Okay. Pie crust, ground beef-"

"You're making it with beef?"

"Hamburgers for dinner tonight. Spaghetti with leftover meat sauce tomorrow, I think. The tomatoes out back are ripe now, right? And for later this week… Any dinner requests?"

"I can grill up a few steaks."

Flynn's eyes light up at that. "Salisbury?"

"Of course. Only the best for my favorite."

"Good. We can grab those on the way out." Flynn takes a pencil and starts crossing things off the list. "What else?"

"Some good wine?" Yuri nudges Flynn in the stomach. "Anniversary's coming up this weekend."

"Oh! Yes. Um, sounds good."

"…Don't tell me you forgot."

"No! No. I was just-"

Yuri's grin only widens. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"I did not."

"Mark this one down in the record books: Yuri Lowell remembered his anniversary and the great Flynn Scifo completely forgot."

"Yuri! I've been busy, there's the promotion, and-"

"What's the date? May the 28th? Give me your little pocketbook, I'm writing it down in there."

"Stop!"

But he's laughing now as Yuri reaches for his bag, arms twining through Flynn's. People are probably staring at them, but for once, Flynn realizes he doesn't really care. He gently shoves Yuri away, who stands across from him, chest puffed with pride and head raised.

"I am not letting you live that one down."

"I'm sure you won't. But you're not getting any of the pie if you keep bringing it up."

"…All right, maybe I can take a day off. Just for pie, though."

"Mhm." Flynn consults the list again – only to find that it was torn to pieces in their struggle. But it doesn't matter; they have just about everything they need, save the steaks and wine. Maybe he can talk Yuri into grilling those steaks on their anniversary night…

"Ready to head out?" he asks – just in time to catch Yuri trying to shove another box of cereal in the cart. Flynn takes it out and sets it back with the others.

"You are impossible."

"Like I said. You'd be bored without me."

"Wouldn't I, though."