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Cream Filled Puffy Things
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She brought him a sausage roll for lunch, and one of those cream filled puffy things that he was addicted to. A happy day was a day when she didn't try and force fruit down his throat. A happier day was a day where he got to indulge his sweet tooth without the silent – and sometimes not so silent - judgement of his partner.
"What's the occasion?" he asked, as they ate in his car.
"I need a reason?"
He glanced at her but she was looking innocently at her lunch and pretending not to notice his attention. No one could be that entranced by a salad bowl, so he wasn't buying her air of innocence.
"No, but –"
"Then say thank you, and move on."
He chuckled. "Touché, Harry. Thank you for this calorie ridden, delicious feast that I'm about to devour. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Bon appetit. "
"You're welcome. Enjoy"
They ate in silence for a while, and in no time at all he'd wolfed down his sausage roll. He opened the bag that held his sugary treat and sighed happily.
"I love these cream things."
"Yes," she smiled, "I know."
"They probably go straight to my hips though," he joked.
She actually turned her head and eyed him up and down. After a moments thought, in which he started to worry that he might have to lay off the puffy things for a while, she shovelled another mouthful of lettuce into her mouth and said, "I think your hips are just fine, Dempsey."
She did, huh? Wasn't that something? "You do, huh?"
"Well, I'm speculating. I really can't tell while you're sitting down."
"I could arrange a demonstration if you like. Be your own private dancer. Show you how flexible they are."
That soft smile again. "As appealing as that sounds, I don't think I could afford you."
"Ahhh, Harry, for you, I'd dance for free."
Was that a little blush on her cheeks? Was she thinking about it? "Tempting. Raincheck?"
"Sure," he agreed, and took a huge bite of creamy deliciousness.