9493/Good Food and Good Friends

Good Food and Good Friends
Date of Scene:	08 October 2019
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	A group effort for a simple meal of fried chicken turns into a candlelit dinner for Bean and Shannon. Awwwwwww! <3
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Cannonball, Pixie, Icarus, Samuel Morgan, Rage

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Nightingale has posed:
     Some days were actually semi-normal around Xavier's. So far, this had turned out to be one of them. There had been music in the library, talk of auditions for the upcoming production of 'Cyrano' for the drama club, plans made for the glee club, and good company all around. What could cap it all off? Why, good food, of course! However, when one is unfamiliar with the recipe or has not attempted to deep-fry anything, mayhem can ensue.

     For once, the normally unflappable Shannon is a little out of her depth in a place normally her element, with various oaths in German filling the air--and poofs of flour coming out the door. Kurt would /not/ approve!

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie comes walking into the kitchen to get himself some tea, hearing and then seeing the mess Shannon is making he raises a brow a bit. He looks over to her and asks "Issues?" while moving to get his tea.

Nightingale has posed:
     On a cutting board on the island counter, there's several boneless, skinless chicken breasts, and a few bowls with the necessary things for breading the chicken. All, that is, except for the flour, which seems to be what has all of a sudden graced about half the area around Shannon, with flour dusting her face, all up and down her front, and for a fair distance around her. The bag has dropped to the ground and broken open, so let's not even get into the mess on the floor. "Frakking -butterfingers- today! Grrrrrrrr!"

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn has had a long, hard day of classes, studying and some gruelling exams. With all that spent energy, she is eager to fix herself a snack, maybe get some dinner for the night. Of course, Shannon can often be counted on for a free meal, so she slithers in, once she spots the other girl fussing over some meal that she undoubtedly will need help eating after. "Hiiiiwassup?" she asks as she flits over to the other girl, peering at all the unprepared food. "Umm..Need a hand? That looks like a lot of work.." granted, she's not much of a cook, but Megan is rather hungry and eager for tasty foodies. When the flour drops, she is quick to pick it up - what hasn't already spilled on the floor. "Hey, are you okay, Shannon? Something bothering you? You're not usually such a clutz.."

Icarus has posed:
Jay has learned that not everyone up here are heathens. There apparently is a dispenser of sweet tea kept in the fridge instead of that unsweet stuff with a supply of sugar that most places North of the Mason-Dixon line supply. They obviously didn't get it.Probably Sam's influence, if he thought about it.

Either way, after having some private time once he'd visited the Glee Club auditions earlier, his thirst drove him to the kitchen area. He was dressed much as he had been upon his arrival at the school, baggy jeans and a green tank top, allowing his red feathered wings to show though they are folded neatly behind him. Entering, he paused just inside the doorway to take in the flour explosion that has happened combined with the Germanic outbursts. "Bad time?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It had been that kind of day. Just as he had predicted yesterday, just as he had been afraid of ever since moving into the school. For most of the day, Bean had barely been seen, spending time in his room behind a locked door, disappearing into the gym for hours, emerging only for a five mile run along Greymalkin, and then back to the gym and from there to his room. He missed every class he was supposed to attend, didn't bother with lunch, and hasn't spoken a word to anyone since his terse conversation in the library this morning.

    Finally then, Sam-Bean emerges once more into the light, still dressed in black combats and combat boots that have been polished to a mirror shine, but at least he now has a nondescript grey hoodie on, with both his hands bandaged up to the fingers. It has been that kind of day. Without a word, he steps into the kitchen, fastidiously steps around the flour spillage and helps himself to a sealed bottle of water from the fridge. Mute.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over at the stuff and says "Ok, first rule of making chicken, get everything out and ready before you get the chicken out, that way it stays cooler, and you have more room to work." Sam tries to judge if there is anything he can really do to help her. He looks over to Jay offering his brother a nod in greeting.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon gets a broom and dustpan to clean up the spillage on the floor, opening her mouth as if to say hi to Bean as he passes by... and closes it again. A tear springs to her eye, trickling down the floury mess to leave a little trail behind. She sighs softly, cleaning up her mess and starting over on gathering the things to bread the chicken. "I was hoping to surprise you and Bean with this..." her voice trails off. Oh, to hell with it. She gingerly touches Bean's shoulder to alert him of her presence, giving him a few moments before attempting to give him a hug.

Icarus has posed:
This is most definitely a bad time. Jay looks to his brother kind of like 'what did I come into', walking over to get a glass out of a cabinet then moving to the fridge. Ice first then opening the fridge to get to the dispenser of tea. He fills his glass then closes the door and makes a beeline for that door he just entered through. He does pause long enough to look at the chicken and add his two cents worth on preparation. "And if you were going to use Ma's recipe for fried? Skin on. Bones are good too," he adds the continues toward that exit, sipping his tea.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn blinks slowly as she spots Bean looking pretty morose. She glances between him and Shannon, noticing the tear forming on the latter's cheek. "Heeeey, what's going on?" she lowers her voice a little, not wanting to start something uncomfortable here. But clearly *something* is going on. But when Shannon moves to hug him, she steps back to give her some space. "Weeell, there's no reason why we can't all help you cook dinner..Boy am I starved!" she grins and waves cheerfully to Sam as he steps in, and smiles and nods to the red head angel guy whom she's never met before, although Megan has probably seen him in some classes. "Heey, it's Jay, isn't it? How's it going?" she does notice the similarity in appearance between him and Samuel, arching a curious brow as she peers between the two of them thoughtfully.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon steps back a little, her face flaming as she looks at Jay. She throws her hands up in disgust, shaking her head and tense with frustration. "Okay. So... skin and bones on. Is there any way this can be salvaged?" She looks at the things on the counter and sure enough, Jay had it called right. She'd been trying to make the recipe that ma Guthrie had sent her. Epic fail.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Whatever happened, whatever might have occurred, Bean stands frozen like a statue, whispering a few words back and forth with Shannon. His grip on the bottle of water tightens, to the point where the seal actually breaks out of its own accord, water trickling down onto the floor. His expression doesn't change, and with elaborate care he opens the bottle and takes a drink only when Shannon has stepped away, taking two deliberate steps in the opposite direction, away from everyone else.

Icarus has posed:
At the name, Jay has to stop as he was about to make his escape. He glances over at Megan then gives a brief nod. "Yeah, I'm Jay. Going okay. Just...didn't realize it was a bad time in here."

At Shannon's question, he motions to her and Megan and whoever else is participating in the dinner making. "Can make not fried chicken. I mean, I'm sure that would work for frying. Just isn't the same as back home is all. I didn't mean to be offensive. I'm just gonna go."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon reaches out to gingerly touch Jay's hand, and shakes her head. "Please don't go. You didn't offend. This is just something I've never tried before, and /someone/... no names mentioned..." She coughs and looks pointedly at Sam. "...never showed me how to do this right. So forgive the pun, but I'm just winging it here." Looking between Megan and Jay, she tilts her head slightly to one side. "Maybe not the same, but think it'd at least be close enough to be edible?"

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn bites her lip, scratching her head. "Uh, does the skin and bones really matter?" clearly, she is no cook. "All I know is that it tastes good either way..As long as it's not burnt, or undercooked. I just hate undercooked chicken, it's all rubbery and.." she laughs nervously, remembering the last time she tried to cook chicken - once she was able to get over the whole - touching squishy innards when cleaning and gutting the stuff. "Well...Maybe I'll just step back and watch and erm..Help with the veggies?" Megan does notice the tension in Samuel's body language and steps towards him. "Heey, what's wrong? Why don't ya help us to make dinner? It'll be lots of fun..And you too, Jay! I hear you're another talented musician..I'd love to hear sometime. Why don't ya stay and help Shannon to cook? You seem to know more about this than some of us!" her tone is pretty cheerful, at least Megan is trying to lighten the mood in here.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It'll be delicious. Anything you cook is delicious." Oh, so he does have a tongue. Bean is refusing to look at anyone directly, but goes to lean against a cabinet some distance away from the actual cooking, after having checked it to make sure there are no sharp implements around. "And it's not a bad time. I'm just not feeling well."

Rage has posed:
Heading into the kitchen is Andrea, who had a long day of classes, Glee Club, then a workout in the gym. With her hair a bit wet from a shower, she is now dressed in a pair of white cargo shorts and a hot pink shirt with a red heart on it that says: Mutie Cutie. She lifts her brows upwards at the sight of the gathered. "Oh, wow. Party in here. I'll just scooot past you all and make a sandwich."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie shrugs a bit to Jay, and looks over to Shannon, and says "Hey is it my fault most of the time Ah fixed it you were in the med lab?" He will look at her, and says I am sure it will still be good, just have to learn a bit each time you make it." He does make a mental note to talk to the other Sam. "Jay here is my kid brother." He informs Megan, not even starting to call him Josh this time.

Icarus has posed:
Getting snagged before his great escape, Jay manages a smile even while inwardly cursing. The tension is there, obviously something going on with the guy leaning on the counter and the winged cook. "It doesn't have to have skin. Just adds flavor. I'm sure it'll be fine. And I'll just stay out of the way. You already sound like Ma when she was upset in the kitchen and the best course then was to stay on the fringes near a door where you could get away quick." He glances to Sam for confirmation of this detail then looks back to the grouping.

As Andrea enters, he greets her. "Hey, Andrea." Just that afternoon, he'd learned the starlet was part of the school, as he had opted to check into the Glee Club. Even got to sing with her. That had been quite a surprise for the Kentucky boy.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon mock-glares at Cannonball-Sam, picking up a dish towel and flinging it in his general direction. She rolls her eyes a little bit and there is the ghost of a smile. "Now if y'all would quit getting hurt so damn much, I wouldn't have been IN the medbay to begin with! T'aint exactly fun in there, you know!" Well, maybe the chicken could be salvaged. "Please, Jay? Would you be willing to help?" When the answer seems to be 'no', she sighs a little, pinching the bridge of her nose. For a moment, it looked as if she wanted to turn on her heel and leave, regardless of the mess. But then she glances over at Bean and smiles a little more. If he could tough it out, so could she.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn giggles and waves to Shannon, "Heey, cute shirt. Where can I get one too?" she shrugs, "Always party happening in the kitchen. It's where all the food is. And I'm starved after all those classes!" she does try to stay out of the way as much as possible herself, knowing she can be a disaster in the kitchen. "Heeey, so when are the meetings for the Glee club? I sooo wanna join up. It'll be so much fun!" she pouts a little at Bean, "Gee that's too bad. Maybe a good meal will make you feel better..Soon as we get this started, eh, Shannon?"

she playfully elbows Shannon, eager for dinner, and heck, her tummy is already grumbling noisily! "Oooh, so you two are brothers then? I can see the resemblance!" Megan grins at Samuel, peering between the two of them, although Jay doesn't seem nearly as chipper as Samuel for some reason. Hopefully food will cure that.!!!

"Heeey, at least I don't get hurt all the time!!" except when she's trying to show off, or experiment! "I mean, even when I am, I try to heal my wounds by myself. I don't think you should be healing minor wounds. Save it for major stuff.."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There is always one rule that Bean was taught about cooking, aside from never actually trying it after the boiled egg incident... "If you eat and don't help, you do the dishes." Many have been the days he spent hours in the mess hall kitchen cleaning up. One memory of that is followed by another, and in his mind's eye a whole series of events starts to unfold. On the outside, he just looks even more distracted, taking slow sips from his bottled water.

Nightingale has posed:
     From bad to worse. Shannon sighs deeply at Megan, and shakes her head. "There's a lot I wish I could explain. Some of it I can't. Some of it I can. But if I don't work out the kinks on the minor stuff and learn to do the job right, I'll just land myself in the medbay more often and possibly longer when it comes to the major stuff." More morose than ever, she works on breading the chicken in silence, getting each piece coated and over to the stove where a pan of oil is waiting, ready to go. It might not be -exactly- the same, but hopefully at least it would be edible. "Hopefully at least the seasoning on this is right, even if the chicken is kind of messed up."

Rage has posed:
"Hey, Jay." Andrea calls over to the new guy with the wings as she offers him up a smile, then opens the fridge to take out some peanutbutter and jelly. "Glee Club will be on Friday's at about three or four, depending on who can show up and the range of interest. I got the shirt from Etsy. I"ll give you a link to it." She says as she sneaks the bread out of the cupboard, then goes about making her sandwich as she gets out of the way of those that are cooking at the stove.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie says, "You would be surprised at how fast and precise Ma could be with a wooden spoon. Ah know when we were little had the old big wooden spoon and fork on the wall, Ah thought if anyone ever broke in, Ma would pull it off the wall, and go all Jedi knight on someone with it."

Icarus has posed:
"I'm sure the chicken will be fine," Jay repeats, feeling a bit like a heel for even pointing it out. If she was having a good day, probably wouldn't have mattered. But on a bad day, it was just going to be there for a while.

He glances over at Megan. "We can work on some potato salad if you are game? Might take a bit to boil the taters but it'll take a while on the chicken too. Or just a salad?"

At the information on Glee Club, he gives a nod to Andrea. "Shouldn't be a problem making it for me at least, either time."

He glances back to Megan, "Yeah, Sam's the eldest. Ma figured he did well here so I had to come." And therein lies part of the rub. He does chuckle at the thought from Sam though. "Not sure if she would've gone for that or the shotgun."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods and smiles a little bit for Jay. "It'll be better next time. Guess I kind of wanted to surprise you as well as Bean. Maybe a little taste of home." She sticks to getting the chicken into the hot oil, laying it in instead of just dropping it. At least the girl had -some- common sense. "You know, potato salad would probably be really good with this, or heck... is there any okra left?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    On hearing the word 'shotgun', Bean reaches over to his right shoulder and gives it a slow rub. Might not even be aware he's doing it. At long last, the smell of the oil, and the first of the frying chicken is starting to cut through the fog, and his senses return to the present, accompanied by a slight flicker of the lights.

    Still without a word, Bean now pushes off from the cabinet he'd been leaning against, seals up his bottle, puts it down, and starts to open cupboards for plates and cutlery, napkins, a tablecloth...

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie nods a bit and moves to look into the fridge and says "Should be enough for a decent sized mess, least enough for us, Ah will have to go cut some more in the morning, to have in case Gwen or Remy want to make Gumbo any time soon. " He looks over to Jay, and says "Also if any of the chicken is separated make sure ya ask which is hot. There are a few around here who like spicy so I make mom's classic and a spicy batch when I make it.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn bites her lip as Shannon explains more unexplainable stuff. She'd push more, but it's probably more secrets, and now is not the time. "Oh..O-okay. Umm. Well let's just try and enjoy dinner for now, then?" she forces a smile, hoping it's catching and nods to Jay. "Potato salad? Heey I can do that! Umm...Where do we start? I can do dishes too! easy peasy! How long do you think this will take us to make? I'm soooo starved!" hmmmm, maybe there's something in the fridge to snack on, she ponders as she searches for potatoes, not sure what else goes in potato salad.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon rolls her eyes and actually laughs a little bit. "Noooooooooo no no no no... no flippin' way. I am -not- about to try making the hot stuff. Got my hands full learning the classic as it is! You want the hot stuff, -you- make it." Wait. Was she actually saying -no- to something?

Now potato salad was something she did know. "Pretty basic stuff. Takes about twenty minutes to boil the potatoes. I'd just rinse them and cut them into about one-inch cubes, or as close as you can get. A good-sized dutch oven should do it. Get one about halfway full of potatoes, and those covered with water and on the stove."

Soon enough, she's flipping over the first pieces of chicken, and at least they -smell- decent, even if they're not quite the same as ma Guthrie would use. And, if one were to look in the pan, they showed promise of being decently cooked through. She glances over to Bean and smiles a little bit, as she's puttering about the stove.

Icarus has posed:
"Potatoes are the main thing. But if you are hungry now, maybe take a sheet from Andrea? PB&J you can never go wrong. Do a half a sandwich and you should still have room for the chicken when it's done?" Jay suggests to Megan even as he peeks in the fridge. "Won't need the rest of the fixin's until after the cook." He nods over at Shannon's instructions on how to prepare them then pauses as his phone goes off. He pulls it out of his back pocket and frowns. "I need to take this. Or else she'll just keep calling until I do. And start calling You," he points at Sam with the phone. "If I don't." In other words, it's Ma. "Excuse me." He ducks out of the room as he pushes the button. "Hi, Ma..."

Rage has posed:
"PB&J's are life." Andrea says as she finishes her sandwich, then wraps it up in a napkin. She puts the jars back into the fridge, followed by the bread into the proper box. Taking a bite of her strawberry and crunchy goodness, she gives a polite smile to the others and heads out to give the group their space to make chicken and hopefully not destroy the kitchen too terribly.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It doesn't take twenty minutes to set a table. Anyone in a hurry can set a table for five in a few minutes. But, so it would seem, Bean isn't planning on doing anything in a hurry. The tablecloth is folded with geometric precision, and laid to cover the unused part of the kitchen island. Creases are brushed out, until the expanse is a flawless, deep burgundy. Next are the plates, which are set at exact intervals, two on either side and one at the 'head' of the island. If anyone were to apply a ruler, or measure the distances, they'd see a tolerance of no more than one millimeter off from perfection. Then, of course, comes cutlery, a double course of forks and knives around each plate, selected for both potato salad and chicken, for these two should never be eaten with the same cutlery. This leaves the glasses, a pair of high stemmed glassware added to the top right of each plate, one for water, the other for the main drink of choice. Lastly the napkins, which are folded in a series of ever more complex shapes, a different one for each plate, and left in the exact center of each setting.

    When he's done, one half of the kitchen island looks like a setting fit for a grand manor house, or at least a five star restaurant.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn ooohs and nods, grabbing some bread and peanut butter from the fridge. And jam too of ourse, because naturally she has a major sweet tooth. Once she's fixed herself a quick sandwich, Megan is busy for a few minutes, hungrily munching away on her food before she gets to work on the potatoes, washing and cutting them. "Umm so do I peel 'em or leave the skins on? How much do we need?" Well there are a few people here soo...She grabs half the bag and gets to work on the chopping board.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie says, "Peeled preferably." he will tell Megan since Jay had to take the call. He looks over at the set up Sam is doing and raises a brow for a moment, but does not question him on it, least not right now, perhaps later. "Need to boil some eggs as well.""

Nightingale has posed:
     Since it sounds like Sam's got the potato salad well in hand, Shannon just gets a plate and lines it with paper towels, pulling out the first pieces of chicken with a pair of tongs and laying them on the paper towels to drain. "Don't know if that's how your ma does this, Sam, but it's how I'm doing it, at least this time." So -there-.

When she glances back at Bean's handiwork, her eyebrows go up. "Holy heck... nice job!" Her smile actually widens a bit more this time, and she looks down at her blouse and jeans. "Wow. I feel a little underdressed. Maybe I'll go have to put something a little fancier on once all this chicken's cooked. Make an occasion of it."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn nods, peering over at the table setting. "Oooooh fancy! Didn't know this was a formal dinner!" and with people leaving, looks like they may not need as much food as she initially thought. Oh well, all the more for her! Megan nods and starts chopping potatoes into little cubes before putting some water on to boil. "Hmmm, so how long should I boil it for, and what else do we need for the salad?" okay, hopefully she can manage not to burn the potatoes.."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    If anyone is expecting an explanation for the fancy setting, Bean isn't offering one. At least, not yet. Kitchen stools are arranged where chairs should be, given the height of the 'table', and then he quietly heads over to the other side of the kitchen, opens the fridge and looks inside. With a nod, he closes the door, and gets an apron from the hook, tying it on, and turns to the 'guests'. "Would you like me to prepare dessert?"

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over to Shannon, and says "That works, but if your looking for the most crunch for ya buck, you put a paper towel down and then a wire rack on top of it, then the chicken. Paper towel wicks the extra grease away and wire keeps it from sitting in the soggy paper towel." He does not seem to be telling her to do it now, just trying to help for next time. To Megan he says "Any extra can always be kept in the fridge."

Nightingale has posed:
     Thankfully, the chicken hasn't been on the paper towels very long, so Shannon is quick to get a wire rack and set it above the paper towels, and move the chicken on top of it. It's also still very hot, prompting a very soft little hiss, and she shakes her hand. But at least the chicken's on the rack where it should be, and she goes to drop the next batch into the oil. "Thanks, glad you told me now rather than later."

     She smiles a little more at Bean and nods. "Sounds good. What'd you have in mind?"

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn waits impatiently for the potatoes to boil, wondering how long it will take them to get soft and just right. In the meantime, she does raid the fridge for other possible things. "Um, soo mayonnaise..Do we want onions in the salad? What else goes with potato salad? chives?" decisions, decisions. Every so often, Megan takes bites of her sandwich between preparing the potato salad.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You'll see."

    Yup. That's it. With no further explanation, Bean turns to his work. It seems to involve a mixing bowl, milk, sugar and five square serving plates. It also seems to involve other boxes from the fridge, and at least one heated serving spoon. Is that mint? Chocolate syrup? What is he up to?

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie says, "Well the way Ma makes it, is onion, boiled egg, taters, sometimes pickle relish, and a bit of vinager"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon raises her eyebrows and actually -grins- at Bean, giving him all the space he needs to do whatever he is doing. He's done surprised her in a pleasant way, enough to bring something of a twinkle back to her eye. Whatever it was, would definitely be interesting!

She turns to Sam and smiles, tilting her head. "Sounds real similar to the way I make it, but I've never used vinegar. Honey mustard, sometimes. But I like the way yours sounds. Let's go with that."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn ooohs, "Vinegar, onion, pickle relish...Oh nuts, I gotta boil eggs too?" but that does sound good, so as she grabs all the stuff from the fridge, Megan also grabs some eggs and gets to work boiling those in another pan before chopping up the onions and stuff. Occasionally she checks up on the potatoes, although the onions are really starting to make her eyes water. "Oooooooh, why do they sting soo much!?" but they taste soo good with potato salad too, darnit! Occasionally, Megan glances over at the table setting, arching a brow, still unsure what the special occasion is.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Onions. Peeled and chopped onions. Enough to make your eyes water. But from where he's working, Bean glances over to Megan. He's on the verge of saying something, probably mentioning that they're nowhere near as potent as actual CS gas, but thinks better of it. For one, he wouldn't be able to say it without thinking back to... dammit...

    His work stops for a moment and then starts again, with the same deliberate exactitude. It now involves a block of chocolate and... a cheese grater?

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie 's phone rings and he looks to the group and says "Looks like it is my time." He answers it "Yes Ma, he is doing ok, Yea, Ah think he is going to be ok and make some friends.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn mutters aloud as tears start to stream down her eyes. "Awwwwe, whyyyy are they soo stingy? My poor eyeeees!" she pouts as she continues to chop onions, and nearly burns the potatoes and the eggs, but fortunately she catches them before the salad is ruined. And then she starts running around, looking for where she put the mayo and the relish and darnit! Why is cooking sooo complicated!? "Ahhhhhh finally!"

She beams as she gets everything sorted out, and tosses everything into a bit bowl, peeling the shells off the eggs before chopping them up and adding them too. "Oooh, this is looking good!" and of course, she can't help but try a little herself. But after all this cooking, she is getting sleepy and starts to yawwwn. "Heeeey, how about when that chicken's ready you let me know? Think I'll take a little nap..Be back soon!" and she flutters tiredly out of the kitchen..

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon chuckles softly, and shakes her head. "At least most of the time, mine lets me call first. Most of the time." The next batch of chicken is pulled out of the oil to drain on the rack, with the third and final round of meat put in to cook.

To Megan, she says, "Try rinsing those under cold water while you take off the outer two layers, it can reduce the fumes a little bit. Not entirely but it'll make it bearable." But, it seems Megan's got to do as nature requires and seek out sleep. So she works on finishing up the potato salad, picking out the potatoes that burned and salvaging what she can.

She glances over at what Bean is doing, and tilts her head, trying to figure it all out. "Okay. I'm just about bursting with curiosity. What are you making?" Yes, she's actually smiling again.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There's an odd silence in the kitchen now. First full of people and now... not. If this was a concerted effort to get him and Shannon alone in a room, Bean has to admire the planning of whomsoever set it up. But, applying Occam's Razor to the situation, he accepts that it's likely just coincidence until more evidence can present itself. At least he doesn't mind showing his work to Shannon, stepping away from one plate to work on another.

    On the square serving plate, a single scoop of vanilla ice cream sits on a small lake of sugared milk, surrounded by two decorative lines of chocolate syrup top and bottom, sprinkled with chocolate shavings and topped with a little sprig of mint. "It's just vanilla ice cream, just with very elaborate presentation."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles wide now, openly admiring the presentation of such a simple dish. "Sometimes, the simple joys can be the best ones. Wow. Now I really -do- have to dress up." Once she's finished the chicken and turned off the stove, setting the oil aside to cool and take care of later, she also assembles the potato salad, setting the bowl aside. Megan had taken care of a lot of the prep work, really, and it made things a lot simpler. "I'll be right back." She ducks out of the room, leaving Bean to wonder what she was up to now....

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There is, indeed, a momentary confusion, but Bean still has a job to finish and so he cracks on with it, putting the finished plates in the fridge to keep them cool as he works on the others. It doesn't take him that long, and then he tidies up after himself, washes his hands, looks around the kitchen and finds that something is missing. Luckily he finds what he was looking for after a short search.

    And so, when Shannon returns, there will be candles set on the table, already lit, to provide a better ambiance.

Nightingale has posed:
     When Shannon does return, the transformation is remarkable. Normally long and loose, her hair is now pinned up in a simple French twist, and she sports a simple pair of pearl stud earrings. She's clad in a formal black gown, with no arms, a low back to allow for her wings, and a sweetheart bodice, a bit of lace overlay extending above the fabric for elegance and modesty. The skirt reaches to her ankles, with an overlay of the same black lace, and she has on a simple pair of black flats. She's blushing a little bit, and ducks her head. "You went to so much trouble setting up in here, it just... seemed right to wear this."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's like a switch is thrown in Bean's head when he sees Shannon. Only a single blink, and he pulls off his hoodie, hanging it up with the apron. This leaves him in his black button down shirt, which is perhaps not terribly elegant, but at least better than the far more informal outer wear he had on. The sleeves are creased to perfection, as are his trousers, with edges so sharp they could cut bread. The advantage of always dressing to military precision, you're always ready to look suitably formal.

    He takes a few steps forward, and offers his arm. "Miss? Would you permit me?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Okay, so it was just the kitchen at school. And maybe it wasn't exactly haute cuisine--just some good, down-home cooking. Maybe even some of that's a little flawed, but it was made by all parties involved with a lot of love--and hopefully there would be plenty left over for ohers to indulge in later. But for now, it was just Bean and Shannon. She smiles shyly and nods, threading her arm through his. "Of course I would."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I've heard many good things about this place." Bean mentions as he walks Shannon to the improvised table, to a seat just to the right hand of what would be the head. There he pulls out the kitchen stool and helps her to get seated. "Today's special, I believe, is Poulet du Sud façon du chef, accompanied by Salade du pomme de terre."

Nightingale has posed:
     Well, a five-star restaurant this was not, but all the same, there did seem to be a little bit of magic in the air. Had Bean planned it out this way? There's a whisper of lace and satin across the surface of the stool as Shannon is seated, by perhaps one of the few remaining gentlemen in existence. "Magnifique! It smells quite good." She can't hold the formality for much longer, an actual -giggle- escaping her. Impromptu or otherwise, perhaps this is just what the doctor ordered!

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Two plates are whisked away, and Bean practically marches over to the cooling chicken. Two portions are placed with exactitude, potato salad added (formed in a smiley face on both plates), and then he returns, placing the first plate in front of Shannon "Mademoiselle. Bon appetit." and the other he takes with him, taking his seat opposite her.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Merci, monsieur... cela a l'air délicieux." While normally fried chicken would definitely be finger food, there is at least the luxury of this batch being made without bones, making it a little less problematic to make use of proper cutlery. No way could Shannon ever want or try to change Bean. It was wonderful to simply discover surprising facets of a person as time marched on. She grins a little sheepishly and ducks her head. "Well... hopefully at least the chicken's edible. I'd never tried frying it like this before."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Ah, but I hear the chef in this restaurant is exceptionally talented." It seems that Bean is intent on keeping up the charade for now, waiting decorously until Shannon has the first taste before even touching his cutlery. It's a side he has never shown before, never even hinted at...

Nightingale has posed:
     This was a delightful, almost playful side to Bean that Shannon had never anticipated, but one she was warming to quickly. Her eyes twinkle as she enjoys small, ladylike tastes of the chicken--which actually didn't turn out too terribly after all, despite their differences from the original recipe. "Perhaps you may be right. Oh, they might disagree themselves, but then again, is not every artist their own worst critic?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Picking up his cutlery, Bean finally has a taste, smiling his usual not-quite smile. And at length, he nods. "I shall absolutely leave compliments to the chef, and a positive review in the guest book." Then, he gets slightly more serious, although ironically his smile becomes slightly more genuine. "I guess you've got a few questions, right?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods a little, nibbling on the chicken for a moment. "First one is... well, half apology, half question. Did I upset you earlier, when I suggested sparring? If I did... then I'm sorry." It's plain this still hurts her, the smile that seems to be lingering on her face not quite able to chase away the mist that seems to be rolling in over her eyes.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    In reply, Bean slowly puts his cutlery down and shows Shannon his bandaged hands. "This was me with a punching bag today. An inanimate object. Once I started, I couldn't stop." He hopes that suffices for an explanation, picking up his knife and fork once again. "We can spar, and I can teach you. But not until I'm better again."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly, and... refrains from reaching out to touch those wounds. "Do you want those healed this time?" she murmurs softly, her grin turning a little bit sheepish. "Hey, I've got to at least try. And... better from what? Your hands? Or... something else?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It's a wasted effort. I'm probably going to do the same thing tomorrow." He's being very upfront about it, but then Bean knows he can be candid with Shannon, eating first before replying again so the delicious chicken doesn't go to waste. "I don't know if it's something they programmed into me, or something that just happens to me every now and again, but... the monster inside wants out. Eventually it's going to, that's a matter of time. Once it's free, I can try to put it back again, get control again. When I feel it's going to get too dangerous, I'll ask to be locked in the danger room. At least there I can't hurt anyone."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly, and reaches over to hold his hand for a moment, squeezing it very gently. "I wish I could be there with you during those times. Perhaps one day you'll come to feel you can allow that. It's hard, though, having to sit back and do nothing, when all I want to do is to help you fight that beast."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Last time it happened, I was still in a cell." Again, Bean puts down his cutlery first before allowing Shannon to touch his hands. Or, at least, the bandages. "I made it to within five feet of the front door before they took me down. And even now, I still can't tell you what I was planning on doing if I'd gotten out, or how I'd gotten that far in the first place. Before now, I didn't really have anyone to care about hurting. Now it's different. That makes it harder."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and has to think for a moment. "Why is the beast there? Was it the training you had before? Is there anything that was part of the training that could help leash the beast, if that's the case?" Perhaps she has little to no understanding of what he truly went through--but at least she's trying.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    How to explain this? How to make this coherent, in a time frame that doesn't also ruin this dinner? Those goals might be mutually exclusive. "It's easier to call it the beast than to accept that there's a part of me that's irredeemably evil, I suppose." Even for Bean, that's a heavy thought. "Most people can never hurt a stranger on purpose. But everyone can be trained to do it regardless, except that doesn't change how willing that person is to do it in the first place. I'm not sure where I fall on that divide, except that for most of my life I've been under the expectation to do evil things, and to keep that part hidden until I needed it. That's just not healthy, Shannon, and... it has consequences. The medication helps, the counseling helps, but at some point, the part of me that could easily do evil always tries to take control. And when I'm not... when I'm not feeling great, when the Black Dog is loose, it's easier for that part of me to come out. This doesn't make sense, does it?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "Actually, it makes a lot more sense than you might think. Everybody has the capacity for good and for evil. Sometimes it's easier to do one than the other." Formality be damned; she slides off of the stool and moves her entire place setting over to the same side of the counter as Bean, stool and all, and just sits right back down again. Smiling softly, she rests her head on his shoulder if allowed, closing her eyes and allowing a warm, gentle smile to curl her lips upwards. "I well and truly believe that the heart of you is good, no matter what they put you through. Don't let anybody--least of all yourself--tell you otherwise." She cracks open one eye and, again breaching formality, offers him a bite of her chicken, on the end of her fork.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's hard not to respond to that, resting his head against Shannon's as she rests it on Bean's shoulder. And yes, he accepts the chicken, chuckling softly as he does. "What they put me through... it's nothing compared to what I put others through. It was all a mistake anyway, I wasn't supposed to be trained like that. Someone just wanted to get to Doctor Eisen and used me to do it. This..." and at that he indicates the immaculate place settings, the folded cloth napkins, with one hand while he offers some potato salad with his other to Shannon. "This is what I was supposed to be doing. Infiltration, political sabotage, intrigue..."

Nightingale has posed:
     While the seriousness of what he's said is not lost on Shannon, she can't help giggling as she looks up at him. "Well... be that as it may, you've certainly intrigued me." She dips her head forward to delicately nip the bit of potato salad off of the end of the fork, grinning. "Oh yes, compliments to all the chefs who made this dinner. Something this good must surely have taken a team effort."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    A nod, and Bean is back in character. "Indeed. We'll have to praise the entire kitchen staff for their efforts."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon tries to keep her voice perfectly serious, but with the laughter that is now just welling up within her, it's nearly impossible. "Oh yes, indeed. Oh, maitre'd, do you happen to know the names of the kitchen staff who helped prepare this? We simply must compliment each and every one of them!"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Mademoiselle, nothing would give me greater pleasure." Bean intones, offering Shannon a bit of chicken. "But alas, the staff has gone home for the evening. But I will convey your most sincere praises for their efforts upon their return."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon very playfully makes a show of nipping at Bean's fingers before accepting the bit of chicken and eating it properly, her playful spirit far from extinguished by the events of the day. "Merci beaucoup, monsieur, vraiment." Okay, this was definitely an unexpected twist to the evening, but a welcome one! Could it get any better?