It was one of the rare days that Jennifer made it back to the Rogue before Duke. She wondered around the stateroom of the Rogue, feeling restless, when her stomach growled. She realized she hadn't really eaten much of anything that day, and that she was sufficiently starved. She opened the fridge and browsed what they had to work with.
As she looked, she started thinking about her mom and the recipes that she'd often make up on the fly. There was one recipe, oh it used to be Jennifer's favorite; it was a really bastardized version of sweet and sour chicken as a sauce that was poured over rice, or egg noodles, if they had them.
She started pulling what she'd need from the fridge and started on the recipe. As she worked, her mind wondered back to her childhood, and her memories of her mother. Her mom used to make this to celebrate Jennifer's accomplishments, or whenever there was something to be excited about, other times it was to comfort Jennifer because her mom knew how happy it made her. For her, the meal was like going back home.
As some of the onions sauteed in the oil, she was transported back into the kitchen of her childhood. She remembered sitting at the table, watching her mom work, and listening to her hum to herself while her dad talked about his day at the office. She scraped the rest of the onions into the pan. She tried to remember how old she'd been in that memory, but, truth be told, she could've been any age and it still would've been the same.
She missed her parents deeply in that moment, and she suddenly wasn't sure if she was crying from the onions or from that fact.
She paused for a moment and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to calm herself back down. She wasn't sure how long she stood like that before she felt an arm wrap loosely around her waist. Another hand pushed the hair away from the side of her neck as she leaned back into Duke. She smiled, eyes still closed, as she felt familiar lips against her neck and travel up to her ear, "What's cookin', good lookin'?"
She laughed as she turned in Duke's arms and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him properly. He smiled into the kiss, and ran his fingers through her hair, causing her to relax further into him. When they pulled apart, he smiled at her, cupping her cheek in his hand and noting the dampness there, "Hi."
She smiled back and pressed her forehead against his, "Hi."
"You wanna tell me," Duke said, wiping what was left of her tears away from her cheeks, "what's with the water works? And what that wonderful thing is that I'm smelling."
"Just the onions," she replied as she pressed the back of her wrist against her eye briefly. She smiled again as she turned back to the counter to start cutting the chicken breasts, "You hungry? It's a recipe of my mom's."
He kissed her cheek, "Definitely. Need any help?"
She shook her head, "Nah, Mom's recipes are usually pretty easy for one person to handle."
He nodded as he walked towards the breakfast nook and took a seat, "So what is it?"
"Sweet and sour chicken." She answered simply.
Duke gave her back a skeptical look, "Sweetheart, I've made sweet and sour chicken and that is not how you do that."
She laughed as she added the chicken to the pan, "I didn't say it was authentic sweet and sour chicken."
Duke chuckled back as she continued, "My mom repurposed this recipe using what a bag of frozen chicken breasts had on it when she and Dad were in college."
"Ah, so it's Poor College Student Sweet and Sour Chicken." Duke commented, smirking as she glanced at him over her shoulder.
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it, Sailor." She jokingly chastised as she added soy sauce and lemon juice to the chicken and onions, "This is my absolute favorite recipe of my mom's."
His smile softened, "Yeah?"
She nodded, "Mm-hm. She used to make it to celebrate when I'd done something important, and when I'd come home from college for a weekend or holiday, she'd always make it on my first night home."
She stirred the contents of the pan, "I dunno. It was just always something that made me feel like I was really home. When Holly and I had our first apartment, this was what I made our first night there." She smiled at the memory as she grabbed the ketchup bottle and squirted it three long times into the pan, "She'd made a joke about how she got a steal of a roommate just because I was willing to cook and share. I told her that if that place was going to be our home, we needed to have a good meal."
As she capped the bottle and started stirring the pan again, she said, "And, well, since this is my home now…"
He stood from the nook and walked behind her to press a kiss to her head. She closed her eyes and smiled at the kiss. She held the spoon up to him to taste it and he did. She watched his face eagerly as he exaggeratedly smacked his lips together to taste the sauce. He grinned at her, "Not bad for Poor College Student Sweet and Sour Chicken."
She grinned back, "You're damn right."