Hovering, Spin-ache, and the Art of making Schlorffkaa

OoO

Cyborg sighed as, not for the first time, he felt Starfire's presence at his door. She had developed the annoying habit of peeking in, but not engaging Cyborg in conversation until she was ready to burst from the stress of holding her curiosity in. He'd told her time and again that the polite thing to do in the situation was just knocking, or coming in, or something. Anything but what she did. Because it annoyed the hell out of him.

"Starfire…y'know…you can come in an' watch me," he said pointedly, not turning around.

"No thank you, friend Cyborg," she said primly, "I do not wish to disturb your workspace."

"You're disturbin' me by hoverin,'" Cyborg muttered. Starfire promptly put both of her feet on the ground.

"I apologize, I did not know that my levitating caused you such ire," she said, and Cyborg sighed in frustration; she thought he was annoyed by the fact that she'd been literally hovering.

"Have I done something to anger you?" Starfire asked in alarm, noting the annoyed look on his face.

"No. Look, Starfire…I know that you're not used to some of the stuff here. I know that Tamaran must be different, and it's hard to… well…"

"Acclimate?"

"Exactly. But what you're doin' here? Comin' an' watchin' me fer hours on end? It's sorta…creepy. I feel like my personal space is bein' invaded."

"That is the last thing I desire!" Starfire exclaimed, green eyes going wide in alarm.

"I don't care if you levitate. Do your Tamaranian thing. But don't just…watch me. Y'dig?"

"I am not sure of this 'digging' but I will strive to not do the 'invading of the personal space' nor the 'creepy watching.' Does this please you?"

Cyborg grinned. "Yeah, cool. Now what is it that you wanted?"

"I was merely enlisting your opinion as to the culinary work I should perform tonight to appease the hunger of ourselves and our teammates."

Cyborg's eyes narrowed in concentration as he translated her high-brow; grammatically correct English into something understandable. "You wanna know what I think you should make for dinner?"

"Yes, I value your opinion very highly!"

"What is your specialty?"

"On my world we call it 'Schlorffkaa.' It comprises mainly of plant life."

Cyborg grinned. "Sounds good. D'ya need any help? I make a mean pitcher of lemonade."

Starfire grinned. "I believe I – as you put it – have it under control. I need only to find a suitable substitute for the Tamaranian vegetable 'Taj'cleff.'"

"Try a tomato. Works wonders in a salad. Goes well with the lettuce and croutons."

Starfire's face seemed to wilt. "Is this 'lettuce' a necessary component for the meal?"

Cyborg deadpanned, getting to his feet. "Yeah. Very necessary. What were you plannin' on using?"

"I thought it customary to use the plant you call 'spin-ache' which is most similar to the plant life we use on Tamaran."

"It's true some salads have spinach, but I'm not real fond of it myself."

"This presents a problem," Starfire said seriously, looking positively anguished at the very thought of making something that Cyborg didn't like.

Cyborg grinned. "It's all good, Star. Look. I can download recipes from some websites; we'll see that you make something that sounds good to everyone."

Starfire brightened. "That sounds most satisfactory, friend Cyborg! I believe that would solve our problem magnificently!"

Cyborg chuckled at the abrupt change in Starfire's mood. She was like a child, really; he'd have to remember that when he was making his dealings with her.

After all, he reasoned. She barely learned the language a week ago! What can we expect?

Thusly reassured, Starfire was patiently watching him; waiting for him to get his butt in gear and find the recipes he'd just promised her.

Cyborg grinned and walked with her to the elevator; They'd need a printer, after all, and the best one was in their living room.

-o-

O.O

No idea what this is supposed to be. I might add more, I might not… mainly, I was having fun with Starfire's scrambled sayings. ;

So…I have a lot of these. Random…things. With no point. They make my brain happy because I type them when I'm on break at work. And no one gets it. :D

More later! (and I'm not even going to ask you to review this monstrous waste of space, I just didn't want it in my 'In Progress' bin anymore.)

Ayaia