paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: Kalinda Sharma

kalinda & Hellboy

hellshaped.
What: Making pancakes. Making V-Day Pancakes. Also, there are candies there so you know what happens with those.
When: The morning of February 15th, because the candy effects should be gone by then, right?
Where: The kitchen of the castle. That's where the magic happens.
Rating: S for Smooches. Sexy Smooches.

That was sure a day. Leave it to Kalinda to be caught in the middle of all the insanity the castle decided to leave for its beloved residents. It was probably due to the fact she would never find herself celebrating the holiday to begin with, even if she had something remotely resembling a relationship-- which, again, was something she'd never find herself doing. Everything about love being in the air? Come on now. That'll never be her thing.

You know what would be her thing, though? Accepting a friend's proposal for breakfast. Not a castle-summoned breakfast, either. Something homemade, something that she could physically see being made without magic. Just the way she liked it.

And so, Kalinda would sit at the kitchen island, watching that large red friend of hers go to work. It certainly smelled good. Thoughts flashed briefly to Alicia's apartment, recalling how she'd occasionally make breakfast for her kids on the rare occasion she wasn't working, how the smell lingered...

But alas, she was far from such things. Better change those thoughts. "Do you cook often?"

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"Better off at an independently owned place, then." She's positive there a handful of them in Connecticut, or hell, wherever you go. "The best thing about IHOP to begin with is all the different flavors they seem to get, but I'm sure mom and pop would be just as happy to oblige a paying customer."

He grins at her over his shoulder, in the weird way he does. "Independent places know you by name, if you go there often enough. You can tell them 'the usual' just like on TV and everything."

"Exactly the reason I like bringing them up. And visiting them, of course." She can't help but smile back, in that weird subtle way of hers. "I've only had that a few times, but it's more on a personal level rather than one from patronage."

"Well, then this'll be right up your alley," he says, amused, as he flips the pancakes onto two plates -- a huge stack for him and a far more sensible stack for her. Like you do.

His right hand is big enough to carry both plates, so he scoops up the syrup that had been resting on the counter with his other hand, and then brings everything over to the table. Setting everything down, he hands her a fork. "Get ready for the best pancakes in your whole life."