My usual sharp reflexes fail me as he turns sharply and swiftly catches me blatantly staring at his ass. I probably shouldn't be because of all the shit, but there is no helping it. The man is built to perfection. All long lines and lean muscle.

His raised brow and cocked head have me slightly red, I try to shrug it off like it's all cool but I really hope he wants to eat here at the counter. Scrubs don't hide much.

"You are so busted." his joking tone is refreshing.

"So I am, I can't help it though not much else to look at in here." he does a funny twisty move with his mouth and looks around.

"I really don't need much and it's not like I have people over or anything." he shrugs and sets what I suppose is a plate of pancakes in front of me. There is the sadness again, I'm going to have to figure out how to stop getting that look.

"What's this then?"

"Pancakes" he passes the syrup.

"If you say so." I send him a wink to tell him I'm joking.

He looks at his own plate and I can see the doubt he is having about trying them himself. He looks scared and glances up at me.

I brave it and dig into a bite. I am enthusiastic as I cut off a big hunk. I smile as I bring it to my lips. Then it hits my tongue and I freeze. My eyes start to water from holding back a gag.

I get the oh please look from his as he cuts off his own bite. Frantically I wave my hands to warn him not to but I am choking and gagging on what is in my mouth. By the time I locate the trash and spit I am to late and he is at the sink gagging and spitting then letting the water run into and over his mouth. Meanwhile I grab the whole pitcher of oj and down it.

"Oh my god. What the hell?" He is wiping his mouth on the back of his hand like there is acid there.

"Well obviously your super power doesn't do cooking." I can't help but smile at it all.

"Obviously. Grabbing both pate he throws them in the sink and pulls a frozen pizza out of the fridge. "Pizza?"

Taking it from him I take care of putting it in the oven. "I think you have done enough damage for one day."

He huffs but I can tell it is all in good humor and he sinks into the stool I had been at.

"I could have done that you know. I'm not a complete loss in the kitchen." Something tells me that isn't true and I try to say so with my look.

"What else can you make?"

"I make a mean pb&j." he laughs. I love that sound.

"Well lucky for you I'm a trained chef." I'm not sure where I am going with that but it seems important to remind him.