Limpness, Crabs, and Veggies

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A/N: Takes place around chapters 8-9 of "Everything is Better, Part Three," but can be read as a standalone if you are not a follower of the larger story.

Timeline: August, 2011 (before the beginning of Season 3)

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Duncan closed his eyes as he heard her chatter on the other end of the phone.

"Now of course I told him I'm an independent woman. Just because he helped me with a household project doesn't mean I owe him anything else."

Duncan nodded to himself as he said, "Of course not, Dorie. You absolutely do not need to grant him any favors in return."

"I'm glad you see it that way. I know he's a friend of yours, but he's been a bit persistent."

Duncan's eyes popped open as he swirled around in his kitchen, the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder. He was used to gossipy phone conversations with Jeff's mother, but this time it bothered him. He dropped a wooden spoon in the sink.

"What was that, dear?"

"Um, nothing. Er, what do you mean persistent? If he hurt you, I swear…"

-"Nonsense. I just meant he keeps asking me to dinner."

"Er, has he touched you?"

"Now Ian, you know that would be something I could handle. But to answer your question, no.

He let out a breath as he picked up the spoon and resumed stirring. He remarked incredulously, "I don't understand why he couldn't just do the job and take the payment. He doesn't need to harass you."

Dorie chuckled on the line. "Well I didn't pay him. I offered to of course but then he said he'd take a home cooked meal this time. Which I did gladly, with Maybelle present. I don't think he liked the Maybelle part."

"An elderly neighbor would but a damper on things."

"You should have seen his face. But anyway, he did such a nice job painting the sewing room, almost as good of a job as he did on the downstairs last year. It's a really nice light coral."

"I'll have a word with him."

"Now dear, there's no need for that. I was direct with him. He seemed a little sad, but alas, what can one do? He's the marrying sort and I have no need for that nonsense."

"Right. You don't need to date. You're fabulous on your own."

"Oh Ian, that's precious of you. But I do date. I just don't want to marry again or anything even close to that. Men get strange when they think they own you."

He was aware of a tightening in his chest as she spoke. He attempted to shake it off before he turned his attentions back to his cooking. He turned off the stove burner and regarded the limp assortment of tomatoes, onions, and tofu in the skillet.

He frowned. "I don't think I want to know about your dating life."

"We're in agreement then."

He sighed wistfully and stirred the skillet mixture.

"What are you cooking? I've been hearing sounds of something frying or maybe it's a grease fire, in which case you probably should call the fire department and get to safety."

"I'll have you know it's a healthy vegetarian meal."

"Vegetarian? Oh please. You're not vegetarian."

He frowned as he stared at his creation. "One could say it's hearty."

"Vegetables can be good but no one has ever described them as hearty."

"They are. Okay, they may be a tad smooshy, but it's only because this is my first attempt."

"Who is she?"

Duncan felt his pulse quicken. He gulped before he responded, "What makes you think there's a she?"

"He?"

Duncan turned and grabbed two plates from his cupboard and placed them on the counter. He began to scoop portions of the mixture onto them.

He mumbled, "Fine. There maybe be a she, but it's strictly platonic."

Dorie hummed.

"It is."

She sighed as she remarked, "Ian, dear, I think it's wonderful you have someone to make a vegetarian dinner for."

"She's a friend."

There was a gasp.

"Oh my! You're making dinner! Is she there? I'll get off the phone so you can pay attention to her."

"She's running late. She had to stop off at the animal shelter and check on a kitty she has an eye on."

"She likes cats?"

"Um, yes. She has two or three of them."

"I see. You know, I like her already."

There was a knock at the door.

"I'm so sorry, must dash. Talk to you soon."

"Yes dear. Have fun."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Britta entered with an animal carrier under her arm. The creature inside was emitting a loud meowing sound. She gestured with her head toward it as she said, "Hope you don't mind, but I had to grab him now. He'll be better when I get him home."

"Hello to you too, Miss Perry."

She shoved a small paper bag into his hand. "That's for the hermit crabs."

His eyes widened as he stared into the contents of the bag. "Tree bark?"

"They like tannin-rich foods. I rinsed it. Make sure you dry it out since they like things crunchy."

"And the corn and carrots?"

"They eat vegetables. Apparently they like a carotene rich diet so they can maintain their color."

"Is that why they're grey?'

She nodded sagely as she kicked the door shut behind her. "I did research. I even went to the library and everything."

"Nice."

"Doesn't explain why you didn't do it before, Mister PhD. But see, I think of these things. I was wondering why they looked so weird. Turns out they need carotene."

He placed the bag on a side table and proceeded to reach for the still-meowing pet carrier.

She scowled as she yanked it away. "What gives?"

"I was merely going to take that from you so you had both hands free to remove your boots."

She looked down at her combat boots and frowned. "Why in hell would I need to remove my boots? You've never asked me to do that before."

He continued to reach over and gently yet firmly wrestled the carrier out of her grasp. He explained, "I cleaned up. Don't want to get dirt on the carpet."

Her eyes widened and she stared agape into the living room. "Whoa." She turned to him and smiled hesitantly. "Why?"

He carefully placed the carrier on the living room floor. "It's been awhile since I properly cleaned. Just seemed like a good time, being summer and all."

She shrugged as she took off her boots. She glanced down and saw a pair of loafers neatly aligned near the door. She placed her boots next to them.

She sniffed the air as she stood back up. "Are you cooking?"

"I told you we were eating."

"Yeah, but I thought we'd do a pizza like last time. Plus weren't we going to mess with that delivery guy again? He was so stoned."

"We were stoned."

She frowned. "Oh. We were?"

"You remember. It was after that particularly strenuous yoga session. You said you needed to relax and asked to come back to my place." He may have said the end of the sentence with an edge in his voice.

She nodded thoughtfully as she made her way into the room and plopped down on the couch. "Oh yeah. Now I remember. That was pretty relaxing."

He pursed his lips.

She regarded him with a confused expression on her face. "You needed to relax too! You gotta admit that class was awful. I swear I needed something to take the tension out of my muscles."

He closed his eyes and whimpered.

"Professor Duncan?"

"Nothing." He turned and left the room.

She grabbed the bag and went over to the aquarium near the window. She knelt down and began to toss in pieces of carrot. She affected a sing-songy voice, "There you go, you little cuties. You like that? Yes, you'll be all orangey and crabby in no time."

Duncan stopped in the doorway as he held the plates. He listened to Britta as she continued, "You are the best little crabs in the entire world. That mean Chang didn't do right by you, but Professor Duncan will. He'll never abandon you. He'll take good care of you. And Auntie Britta will make sure you get lots of carotene."

Duncan felt a thud hit him in his chest, as if the wind was literally knocked out of him.

Time slowed down as he looked down at his plates of veggies.

He never thought limpness, crabs, and vegetables could be so utterly charming.

I can't go back to England.