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(no subject)

WHO: Sally Blevins and Sam Guthrie
WHERE: the Institute's kitchen and then who knows
WHEN: today around lunch time
WARNINGS: derpyness and jello anxiety
SUMMARY: Sally tries to make Sam lunch. It doesn't go quite like she expected.
FORMAT: parajello

It was Mother's Day, and as much as Sally tried to ignore the day whenever it came around, she'd decided to make Sam a special lunch. She remembered how hard her first Mother's Day without her mom had been, and even if his mom hadn't actually died, she still wasn't present in the City to celebrate the holiday. So she'd made chicken salad sandwiches, potato salad, and a fruit salad from scratch. As soon as the jello was ready everything would be set.

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Sam was feeling a little sad today. His mom was still gone, and so was his brother. Mother's Day wasn't making any of this easier, but he managed fine enough. His momma was safe back home on the farm with the kids, having the best Mother's Day she could have. That's all he could really ask for.

Heading down to the kitchen to get some lunch, he noticed Sally right away. "Uh...hey, girl."

Now what was she up to?

Darn it. Sally was sure she had a few more minutes before he would wander into the kitchen. "Hey, Sam!"

She gave him her biggest smile.

"Um, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me?" she asked, and stepped aside to reveal what she'd been working on. "Maybe?"

"Oh, sure," Sam smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What didja make?"

"Chicken salad sandwiches, potato salad, and a fruit salad," she told him, and held up each item. "Plus jello for dessert! It's strawberry flavored!"

"You've been busy," he chuckled. "All from scratch, huh?"

"Yes!" she beamed, and gathered everything onto plates. "Where do you want to eat? We could eat in here or elsewhere inside. It's nice outside so there's that too."

"Inside's good," Sam assured her. "Unless you'd like to eat outside. Bein' it's more country."

Teasing, of course.

"Inside's fine with me," Sally laughed. "Oh!"

She whirled around toward the refrigerator. "Jello! I almost forgot!"

Except the jello looked the same as when she'd put it inside the fridge six hours ago. "...this isn't right."

He walked up behind her, and frowned. "Whaddya mean?"

"It's still soupy," she held the bowl out for him to see. "It should have hardened by now."

"Oh..." he looked down at it, staring. He wondered how in the heck it could have turned out like that, but of course didn't ask. "It's okay, Sally. We can just have cookies, or somethin'."

"I followed the directions," she set the bowl down on the table, frowning. She picked up the box of jello mix and read the directions again. "I did all of this! It's supposed to look like this not like that."

She sighed and dropped the box. She must have looked like a damn fool; she sure felt like one.

"It's okay," he assured. Lord, he hoped she didn't get too upset over this. "It was probably just an accident, or somethin'. Or...faulty jello."

Good Lord.

"I just wanted it to be perfect," she murmured. She really hoped she didn't start crying over this. "I swear the rest of the meal will be okay, Sam."

She wondered if she'd somehow messed up the potato salad. What if it didn't taste right, or the chicken salad...she didn't want him to get sick. "We could always just order pizza..."

"Ah'm sure the other stuff is fine, Sally," he insisted quickly. "Ah'm sure alla what you made will taste great."

Sally turned and looked at him. "If it's not I give up on cooking forever," she muttered, and kicked at the floor.

"Hey, c'mon," Sam whispered. "It was just jello!"

"Jello is the easiest thing to make in the world!" she pointed out, and crossed her arms. "And I messed it up! Are you really sure you want to trust me with things that are more complicated than adding water?"

"Jello is not the easiest," he countered. "Sally, seriously. It's okay! Ah'm sure everythin' else is great."

Please don't flip out at me D:

"You have entirely too much faith in me," she murmured, but uncrossed her arms. "So, lunch?"

She brushed her fingers against his hand. Well, he most likely wasn't thinking about anyone who had been ported out right now...

Edited 2010-05-09 21:01 (UTC)

He sighed, and put his hands on her shoulders. Seriously, Sally. He ate Rictor's chicken, he could eat whatever she threw in front of him.

"A' course," he said and kissed the top of her head. "Let's eat."

Sally stepped forward and hugged him tightly first.

"Can you grab us something to drink?"

She didn't want to see inside that fridge anytime soon. "I'll put the plates out."

Sam hugged her right back. "What do you want to drink, darlin'?"

"If we have lemonade, I'd like that," she told him, smiling. "Otherwise just water is fine with me."

She let him go and gathered the plates, humming to herself as she placed them on the kitchen table. "Here good for you or do you have somewhere else in mind?"

"That's good," he assured as he got out the lemonade and started pouring it into two glasses. "Thanks for makin' lunch, Sally."