"You're coming over tonight, right?" She pauses to give a glance his way before picking up another set of files and sticking them into her briefcase. "Henry said he'd talked to you about it."

He smiles. "He mentioned that you may need a bit of help in the kitchen, yes," he says as he pulls her coat from the hanger.

When he turns to her desk after closing the door to the closet, she has her arms crossed over her chest and a pout playing on her lips.

"The recipe is already picked. I've looked it over," she tells him. "I think I can manage."

He holds out her coat. "He told me you'd say that."

She huffs as she bends over. "A few mishaps and he doesn't trust me with the oven," she mumbles. And a moment later she straightens up, briefcase in one hand, bag in the other.

He cocks his right brow. "Only a few?"

And she gives him the finger as she rounds the corner of her desk.

He laughs. "Is that really the way you want to treat the person who's about to come help you?"

Her eyes seem to light up.

"Fuck you," she says as she snags her coat from his hand as she brushes past.

"Now you're just being mean." He turns to watch her go. And when she's just past the doorway he reminds, "I'll be there in an hour."

~MS~

"I can see your mother started cooking without me." The smell that hit his nose as he stepped through the door was hard to miss.

Stevie turns on the staircase.

She smiles. "You better get in there before the smoke alarms go off."

He throws his keys down onto the tray. "You're not going to help me?"

"Sorry," she says as begins again up the stairs. "I've got a group project."

He throws his coat over the back of a chair before walking to the kitchen.

He frowns seeing her standing at the stove. "You were supposed to wait," he tells her as his eyes roam over the counters— they were covered in bowls, pots, dirty cutting boards, and used spoons.

She looks up from the pan of vegetables. "I'm doing just fine," she says as she pushes a strand of hair out of her face with the back of her hand.

He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, deciding he can't undo what's already done. "How can I help?" He asks.

"Uh." She steps back from the stovetop, wooden spoon still clutched in her palm, and does a full spin before pointing towards a cutting board and saying, "You can chop that zucchini to add to the vegetables."

He steps up to the counter, picks up the knife that next to the board, and carefully starts cutting.

"Can I ask what you're making?"

There's a sudden loud hissing sound, water hitting a hot pan, and he can't help but glance over his shoulder— he feared she'd somehow burn herself.

"Sauteed vegetables and there's a casserole in the oven."

And while he thinks making two dishes gave her twice the opportunity to cook something correctly, two dishes also held double the potential of something going wrong.

He turns, taking the cutting board from the counter, and reaches around her to add the zucchini to the pan. "Give the veggies about four more minutes and they should be done."

While she continues to stir, he moves to open the oven. When he sees the slightly browned top of… well he couldn't exactly make out what it was, he asks. "Did you set a timer?"

"Uh yeah," she says as her eyes search the countertop. She grabs the white timer and when he sees the corner of her lips tug down, he pulls one of the four towels that hang from the rod and carefully takes the pan from the oven.

"It was supposed to be done six minutes ago," she mumbles.

"It doesn't look too bad," he says as he sets the pan onto two potholders.

She abandons the vegetables and stares down at the casserole. "Will you try it?" She hands over a fork she'd taken from the drawer.

And while he thinks he's really not in the mood for food poisoning the stare she's giving him with her eyes… he can't seem to say no.

He digs the fork down into the middle and pulls out a bite. He waits a moment for it to cool before sticking it into his mouth. He watches her watch him as he swallows, and he can't help but make a face.

"That bad?"

The noodles tasted undercooked while the tomatoes and spinach were more than well done. How she managed that he didn't know. And there was something off with the sauce.

He gets another forkful before holding it out to her. She leans in and takes it into her mouth. And she chews the bite over before swallowing— she makes a face that he thinks could mirror his own.

"Pizza or Chinese?" She asks.

~MS~

They're sitting around the dining room table, all laughing over the story he'd just shared about Matt and Jay's most recent tennis excursion. The kids thought it was hilarious… The Secretary too, and he must admit seeing her laugh, really laugh, was refreshing.

Minutes later, after he'd prompted the question about school, Ali begins rambling about an English Literature course she was taking. Henry walks into the dining room just as she was telling them about her latest exam.

His hands land on the Secretary's shoulders before he dips down, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Pizza?" He asks her, nodding towards the two boxes that sat in the middle of the table. He looks in his direction before looking back to her. "I thought you were determined to cook?"

Her face turns up to his. "You're right, I should stay away from the oven."

"And the stove," Jason adds.