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Scott and Noriko - Backdated
Scott and Noriko mend bridges over hot dogs. It's a thing, okay.
Scott had put this off long enough, and it was only going to get worse. He didn't want that. Hell, he liked Noriko. He didn't want to go on being mad at her. Besides, he'd dangled something over her head. In the interest of fairness, he should take it back.
Hey, he texted. You hungry?
Always, Noriko texted back almost immediately. Where?
Kitchen, Scott replied. More private than the cafeteria, less chance of being overheard by non-mutants than going into town. Maybe it wasn't optimal even still, but it was as close as he figured he was likely to get.
Noriko was there a handful of seconds later, absorbing the electricity back inside her body before she crossed the threshold into the kitchen. "Hey." She didn't know what to expect, given how they'd left things the last time they had talked one on one, but she didn't sound it.
"Hey," he replied. Scott opened the freezer and began rummaging around. "How do you feel about hot dogs?"
"I feel amazing about hot dogs," Noriko replied, walking over to the fridge. "Drink?"
"Iced tea, if there is any," Scott said. He pulled the hot dogs out and let them do a tiny bit of defrosting on the counter as he filled a sauce pan with water. "How many do you want?"
"How many are there?" Noriko shot back. Not the kind of question you ever wanted to ask her, really. There was some homemade iced tea in the fridge, and she set the jug on the table before grabbing herself an energy drink.
He snorted, and began chipping eight hot dogs off the block of twelve. "So, uh...how's it going?" Scott had never been good at small talk or segues, which he figured Noriko knew. He'd hardly seen her outside of practice, though, and, per Simon Tam's medical orders, he'd only supervised practice rather than participating himself over the last week.
"I've felt like shit for a week because I screwed up and hurt one of my best friends in the process," she replied honestly. Her tone didn't make it sound like she expected any pity, and she was damn well hoping he knew her enough to know that she really wasn't after any. "And I don't know where we stand now, but he wants to have hot dogs with me, so I'm cautiously optimistic."
Scott blushed even as he felt the slight sting of guilt. He busied himself with putting the hot dogs in water. The tap water would defrost them while the water got hot enough to cook them. Or something. He wasn't sure Jean-Paul's lessons about only putting things into water that was already hot counted when it came to logs of bologna. "I'm not gonna say it doesn't still sting," he admitted. "But...I'll get over it."
"Good," Noriko stated as she grabbed a glass from a cupboard. Not approval of his words, but gratitude. "You got that estimate?" She didn't think she'd damaged much, but still.
"Barton's head on a spike," Scott said dryly. He flipped the stove on, and then headed over to the table to grab a drink. "Otherwise, forget about it. It's more labor than materials."
Noriko didn't like the sound of that, and she was quiet for a second, as she poured him a glass of iced tea. "Can I help with the labor, then?" She liked it better if she was allowed to pay him back, somehow, and if it wasn't with the materials, it might as well be with labor.
Scott was quiet a minute, thoughtful, as he accepted the glass of tea and sat down for a minute while the hotdogs did their thing. He hadn't lied when he said it still stung, it did. And somewhere, deep down, he would always wonder if it had been the very act of letting her so close to the bike, to him, that had made her feel comfortable enough just taking it. Still, she'd given him her word. There wasn't really more he could ask than that. "I guess, sure. Not yet, though. Tam told me to take a few weeks off."
"What's up?" she asked with a frown as she sat down, looking him up and down as if she could somehow diagnose him that way.
"Bruised ribs, from the mission." He shrugged slightly. "Not a big deal or anything, but I have enough to do in my time that I don't need to add fighting with friends and medical professionals about following soon-to-be doctor's orders."
"I could get it done in the meantime," Noriko offered. "You could supervise." Order her around, pretty much.
Scott shook his head a little. "I'd rather help work on it. I can't ride it until I'm healed up anyway."
"Sure," Noriko agreed.
Scott took a long sip. "Not that I don't appreciate your help," he added. Because he did appreciate it, both the actual assistance and the intent behind it. If it didn't fix what had happened, it did at least bring him a bit further along the road towards moving past it.
Noriko nodded, eyes cutting away for a second before she looked back at Scott. Moving on right past the awkward before it could settle in. "So how do you keep yourself busy these days?"
"Designing the trainings I've been putting you all through lately," he said, smirking slightly. "Not participating in them myself doesn't mean I'm not still the evil mastermind. At least for the moment."
"You usually do that and plenty of other shit," Noriko pointed out, setting her can back down after taking a drink.
"Studying. Thinking." Scott added to his list. The latter not always the most enjoyable pursuit, to be honest. He had a lot on his mind, and this mission had only made it weigh heavier on him.
"To relax," Noriko pushed. She knew Scott was a workaholic, but seriously. Even they needed to kick back now and then.
He looked at her like she'd just spoken Greek. "Huh?"
"Usually you work on your bike, or ride your bike, or we hit a sim," Noriko spelled it out for him. All of them things he couldn't do right now. Could he even have sex? She hoped so, for his sake.
"I don't really relax much," Scott said, which was something he was pretty sure she knew. "But, I mean, I've got a book I'm reading and stuff."
"Right," Noriko nodded. She wasn't much for reading, herself. "I'd be going crazy."
He smirked. "So you know my pain."
"I can imagine it, anyway," she replied with a small smile.
"I did try the DR. Briefly. Immediately was reminded it was a bad idea," Scott admitted, more to give them something to talk about before any potential awkwardness could set in than because he needed to unburden his conscience. "I could almost hear Tam and Martin saying, 'I told you so.'"
"I'm going to be so miserable when I get injured," Noriko stated, all sympathy. It seemed obvious to her that she would get injured at some point. She couldn't always outrun things, even now that she had a much better hold on her superspeed. "You're downright chipper, by comparison."
He shrugged. "I'm so ornery most of the time, that there's only so much worse I can get." Scott didn't sound particularly troubled by that fact, however. "If you get injured I'll bring you some erector sets or something, but let's just try to not have you injured to begin with."
"Hear hear," Noriko agreed, raising her energy drink to drink to that. "But if it comes to that, just get me some sand. I'll try and work on my artistic side." Which was a joke; she didn't have one of those. But her lightning could still make pretty stones out of sand, she was pretty sure.
"Your artistic side, huh? Pretty sure I've never seen that."
"Pretty sure nobody has," Noriko confirmed.
"We could open a gallery. You'll make glass stuff, and I'll whittle wood with my gaze of death," Scott suggested.
Noriko actually chuckled at that, shaking her head. "Your girl would have a field trip with the PR."
"Better that we not give her ideas," he said dryly, nodding. "She might take us seriously and make us do it. Not that there's anything wrong with art, but I don't think it's going to be my future."
"Or mine," Noriko confirmed with a shake of her head. She'd been thinking about working as a tech for the theatre, but that was as artsy as she was likely to ever get. "Come on," she added, standing up to go check on the hot dogs. "I'm starving." When was she not.
He got up, and went over with Noriko while she prodded at the hot dogs. "Look pretty done to me," Scott said. He walked over to the cabinet to pull out some buns. "You want condiments, cheese, any other exciting toppings?"
"All the cheese, ketchup and mayo," Noriko confirmed. It seemed weird, how happy she felt to just be eating hot dogs with Scott, but there she went anyway.
Scott pulled out a bunch of cheeses, ketchup, mayo, and then added in mustard, just for good measure. He eyed the bacon for a moment, but then decided he was too lazy to want to cook it just so he could stick it on a hotdog. He grabbed some relish to make himself feel better about the loss. He dumped his haul on the table. "A woman with fine culinary taste."
"And a guy after my own heart," Noriko shot back as she offered him the first dog.
Scott had put this off long enough, and it was only going to get worse. He didn't want that. Hell, he liked Noriko. He didn't want to go on being mad at her. Besides, he'd dangled something over her head. In the interest of fairness, he should take it back.
Hey, he texted. You hungry?
Always, Noriko texted back almost immediately. Where?
Kitchen, Scott replied. More private than the cafeteria, less chance of being overheard by non-mutants than going into town. Maybe it wasn't optimal even still, but it was as close as he figured he was likely to get.
Noriko was there a handful of seconds later, absorbing the electricity back inside her body before she crossed the threshold into the kitchen. "Hey." She didn't know what to expect, given how they'd left things the last time they had talked one on one, but she didn't sound it.
"Hey," he replied. Scott opened the freezer and began rummaging around. "How do you feel about hot dogs?"
"I feel amazing about hot dogs," Noriko replied, walking over to the fridge. "Drink?"
"Iced tea, if there is any," Scott said. He pulled the hot dogs out and let them do a tiny bit of defrosting on the counter as he filled a sauce pan with water. "How many do you want?"
"How many are there?" Noriko shot back. Not the kind of question you ever wanted to ask her, really. There was some homemade iced tea in the fridge, and she set the jug on the table before grabbing herself an energy drink.
He snorted, and began chipping eight hot dogs off the block of twelve. "So, uh...how's it going?" Scott had never been good at small talk or segues, which he figured Noriko knew. He'd hardly seen her outside of practice, though, and, per Simon Tam's medical orders, he'd only supervised practice rather than participating himself over the last week.
"I've felt like shit for a week because I screwed up and hurt one of my best friends in the process," she replied honestly. Her tone didn't make it sound like she expected any pity, and she was damn well hoping he knew her enough to know that she really wasn't after any. "And I don't know where we stand now, but he wants to have hot dogs with me, so I'm cautiously optimistic."
Scott blushed even as he felt the slight sting of guilt. He busied himself with putting the hot dogs in water. The tap water would defrost them while the water got hot enough to cook them. Or something. He wasn't sure Jean-Paul's lessons about only putting things into water that was already hot counted when it came to logs of bologna. "I'm not gonna say it doesn't still sting," he admitted. "But...I'll get over it."
"Good," Noriko stated as she grabbed a glass from a cupboard. Not approval of his words, but gratitude. "You got that estimate?" She didn't think she'd damaged much, but still.
"Barton's head on a spike," Scott said dryly. He flipped the stove on, and then headed over to the table to grab a drink. "Otherwise, forget about it. It's more labor than materials."
Noriko didn't like the sound of that, and she was quiet for a second, as she poured him a glass of iced tea. "Can I help with the labor, then?" She liked it better if she was allowed to pay him back, somehow, and if it wasn't with the materials, it might as well be with labor.
Scott was quiet a minute, thoughtful, as he accepted the glass of tea and sat down for a minute while the hotdogs did their thing. He hadn't lied when he said it still stung, it did. And somewhere, deep down, he would always wonder if it had been the very act of letting her so close to the bike, to him, that had made her feel comfortable enough just taking it. Still, she'd given him her word. There wasn't really more he could ask than that. "I guess, sure. Not yet, though. Tam told me to take a few weeks off."
"What's up?" she asked with a frown as she sat down, looking him up and down as if she could somehow diagnose him that way.
"Bruised ribs, from the mission." He shrugged slightly. "Not a big deal or anything, but I have enough to do in my time that I don't need to add fighting with friends and medical professionals about following soon-to-be doctor's orders."
"I could get it done in the meantime," Noriko offered. "You could supervise." Order her around, pretty much.
Scott shook his head a little. "I'd rather help work on it. I can't ride it until I'm healed up anyway."
"Sure," Noriko agreed.
Scott took a long sip. "Not that I don't appreciate your help," he added. Because he did appreciate it, both the actual assistance and the intent behind it. If it didn't fix what had happened, it did at least bring him a bit further along the road towards moving past it.
Noriko nodded, eyes cutting away for a second before she looked back at Scott. Moving on right past the awkward before it could settle in. "So how do you keep yourself busy these days?"
"Designing the trainings I've been putting you all through lately," he said, smirking slightly. "Not participating in them myself doesn't mean I'm not still the evil mastermind. At least for the moment."
"You usually do that and plenty of other shit," Noriko pointed out, setting her can back down after taking a drink.
"Studying. Thinking." Scott added to his list. The latter not always the most enjoyable pursuit, to be honest. He had a lot on his mind, and this mission had only made it weigh heavier on him.
"To relax," Noriko pushed. She knew Scott was a workaholic, but seriously. Even they needed to kick back now and then.
He looked at her like she'd just spoken Greek. "Huh?"
"Usually you work on your bike, or ride your bike, or we hit a sim," Noriko spelled it out for him. All of them things he couldn't do right now. Could he even have sex? She hoped so, for his sake.
"I don't really relax much," Scott said, which was something he was pretty sure she knew. "But, I mean, I've got a book I'm reading and stuff."
"Right," Noriko nodded. She wasn't much for reading, herself. "I'd be going crazy."
He smirked. "So you know my pain."
"I can imagine it, anyway," she replied with a small smile.
"I did try the DR. Briefly. Immediately was reminded it was a bad idea," Scott admitted, more to give them something to talk about before any potential awkwardness could set in than because he needed to unburden his conscience. "I could almost hear Tam and Martin saying, 'I told you so.'"
"I'm going to be so miserable when I get injured," Noriko stated, all sympathy. It seemed obvious to her that she would get injured at some point. She couldn't always outrun things, even now that she had a much better hold on her superspeed. "You're downright chipper, by comparison."
He shrugged. "I'm so ornery most of the time, that there's only so much worse I can get." Scott didn't sound particularly troubled by that fact, however. "If you get injured I'll bring you some erector sets or something, but let's just try to not have you injured to begin with."
"Hear hear," Noriko agreed, raising her energy drink to drink to that. "But if it comes to that, just get me some sand. I'll try and work on my artistic side." Which was a joke; she didn't have one of those. But her lightning could still make pretty stones out of sand, she was pretty sure.
"Your artistic side, huh? Pretty sure I've never seen that."
"Pretty sure nobody has," Noriko confirmed.
"We could open a gallery. You'll make glass stuff, and I'll whittle wood with my gaze of death," Scott suggested.
Noriko actually chuckled at that, shaking her head. "Your girl would have a field trip with the PR."
"Better that we not give her ideas," he said dryly, nodding. "She might take us seriously and make us do it. Not that there's anything wrong with art, but I don't think it's going to be my future."
"Or mine," Noriko confirmed with a shake of her head. She'd been thinking about working as a tech for the theatre, but that was as artsy as she was likely to ever get. "Come on," she added, standing up to go check on the hot dogs. "I'm starving." When was she not.
He got up, and went over with Noriko while she prodded at the hot dogs. "Look pretty done to me," Scott said. He walked over to the cabinet to pull out some buns. "You want condiments, cheese, any other exciting toppings?"
"All the cheese, ketchup and mayo," Noriko confirmed. It seemed weird, how happy she felt to just be eating hot dogs with Scott, but there she went anyway.
Scott pulled out a bunch of cheeses, ketchup, mayo, and then added in mustard, just for good measure. He eyed the bacon for a moment, but then decided he was too lazy to want to cook it just so he could stick it on a hotdog. He grabbed some relish to make himself feel better about the loss. He dumped his haul on the table. "A woman with fine culinary taste."
"And a guy after my own heart," Noriko shot back as she offered him the first dog.