1965-09-20 - The Lure of Chicken Pot Pie
Summary: Wherein Kai cooks, Steve appreciates, and the antics of Fluffy (Einstein) the ferret are of much amusement.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
kai steve-rogers 

All's peaceful at the manor, at least for the moment. That could change, though. There's an Elf in the kitchen, unsupervised. There's also a lot of delicious scents coming from the kitchen, so maybe this isn't a bad thing. Someone has been baking. Someone has baked something savory. Sure enough, there's Kai taking a chicken pot pie out of the oven. He sets it aside on a hot pad, then bumps the oven closed with his hip. Golden flaky crust, bubbling goodness around the edges. He nods in satisfaction.

Super-soldier-dom comes with super-smelling — and whatever's come out of the oven has left a scent to waft into the vents of the mansion and spread to entice. Who's drawn out from hiding? One Steve Rogers, sticking his head around the corner of the kitchen entryway hopefully. He of the eternally-empty stomach and happy guinea pig for the Elf's attempts at new recipes.

"Kai," he says by way of greeting as he steps into the brightly-lit room and inhales appreciatively…just in time for his stomach to chime in with a loud growl. He has the grace to blush a little as he wanders over to the fridge and opens it to peer inside. "Pot pie? he asks, sounding a little hopeful of an affirmative answer. In jeans and a t-shirt, socks on his feet, it appears he was appreciating an evening in for once.

"Just like human mothers used to make," Kai says amiably. "I found a recipe in a magazine, and I thought, well that doesn't look so hard." He wags a finger, adding, "Let it set for a moment. I'll put on some coffee." He's happy to make coffee so strong it might dissolve the mug. He's not the one paying for the beans.

"Now, if you like it, it's something I can make whenever you want," Kai mentions. Once coffee is brewing, he takes down two plates. He'll test on himself, as well. Especially since it does smell rather good.

An apple emerges from the fridge, plucked by Steve, who takes a loud and crunchy bite out of it even as he closes the door again.

"I won't say no to coffee," he replies behind his hand, considering that he's still got half a mouthful of fruit to talk around. Manners, yes? Mostly. "I think I'll be asking you to make it again, if it tastes what it smells like." He sets up camp at the table, leaning back in his chair, and looks content to be patient further for the creation to cool. "How's the restaurant business going then?"

Kai glances at Steve with his apple, but he knows the soldier has a bottomless stomach. No appetite is being ruined here. "It's going nicely. I'm so glad Bertie can see so well now. He's able to do so much more, and he's teaching me." He glances toward the stairs, then the pie, and he makes the executive decision to risk doling it out.

As he dishes some onto a plate for Steve, he says, "We'd better start in on it before the boys catch a whiff. They'll be through here like a plague of locusts." Not that he's complaining! But, yeah, one must secure one's stuff sooner rather than later.

"Well, if they're anything like Buck…" the Captain comments in gently-ironic tease and nods in agreement. Food is generally here once second, gone the next, and squirreled away up into the attic, never to be seen again. Setting the apple aside, he then rises from his chair and walks over to the coffee maker to ascertain the status of the brew. If done, he snags two mugs from the nearby cabinet and pours them nearly to the brim with the dark liquid. Colorful oils skim atop and he sniffs at his mug appreciatively before sipping at it.

"Mmm, hot," he comments. He heads back over to the table and sits down, designating the chair next over as Kai's by placement of the other filled coffee mug. "Glad to hear that things are going well. It's a nice touch of normalcy, in a way. Good that Lambert has his vision restored as well." He lifts his coffee in salute to this.

Kai dishes himself out some, then comes to sit near Steve at the table. "They've got big appetites," Kai says with over-exaggerated solemnity. Then he grins. "It's flattering most of the time, but I want to get a taste of my cooking, too." He eyes the plate. Such chickeny goodness, and it's too hot to eat, still. Man, that pastry is nice and buttery, and the sauce is savory and creamy, with peas and carrots swimming in it alongside those chunks of chicken.

"Asgard was good for him," Kai says. "I think he had a really good time. Maybe too good. I'm afraid I'll get a letter from my grandmother in Alfheim that her serving girl's fallen in a family way." He shakes his head.

Steve takes up his fork and pokes at a large chunk of chicken acting as iceberg in the sea of gravy and veggies beneath the cracked crust. Oh you, my friend — once you're cool enough, you're going down the hatch first. He unconsciously licks at his lips as he lifts the crust, all the better to observe its delicious innards.

"I hope she hasn't, for his sake. It's irresponsible to leave a family like that," the Captain replies quietly, glancing up to Kai.

Kai nods to Steve and says, "He'd want to do something about it." He pokes holes in the pastry on his plate, ventilating the heat. Tricksy Elf has a strategy. "Which is nice and all, but his lifespan is so brief." He waves a hand. "Besides, it's not like with humans. There's no shame in it. My Gran would be annoyed at me for bringing a satyr-kin around, but she wouldn't dismiss the girl."

Kai tentatively nibbles at a bit if chicken he's isolated. He nods. It's not molten. The pie is safe to tuck into. "Gosh, this is pretty good."

Steve seems accepting of the Elvish take on things by the subtle shrug. He turns his attention back to his own serving of pie, still steaming, but with far less vigor than before. The threat of burnt tongue has subsided. A sip of coffee before he takes a first bite.

Toes in his socks curl a little in delight. "It is very good," he says around the bite of hot chicken, completely forgetting momentarily to cover his mouth. "Sorry," he adds from behind his hand that flashes up, laughing to himself at his own flub. Next to disappear is a bite of crust and he nods. "Amazing," he amends. "Not just good. Amazing."

Kai beams as the dish gest the Steve Rogers nod of approval. "Oh, good," he says. He leans back and just grins. "We'll definitely have to scoff this down before the boys catch a whiff." He tucks into his own, showing no dismay at the temporary lapse in table manners.

"At least I don't have to worry about children anywhere," he says. "Can you imagine? Mine would be unholy terrors. I credit horrible parenting." At least he has a realistic idea of his skills.

With a large mouthful of chicken pot pie, all Steve can do is nod in agreement at making their portions disappear before the hoard descends. He takes a large swig of his coffee to clear veggies stuck in his cheek before clearing his throat to speak clearly.

"I can't imagine that they could be any worse than you. Aren't children a reflection of their parents, in a way? You'd do your best to make sure that they behaved themselves. I know you would." His sentiments are sincere.

Kai thinks about this, then nods slowly and says, "Yeah, I think I would. My parents weren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but my da taught me everything I know, and my mum did dote. I'd feel bad if my kid didn't have that." He refrains from telling Steve that what his father taught him was how to rob people.

"Ah well, it's not in the cards, and this is better, isn't it? Brothers in arms, the thin line between the darkness and the light?" He raises his mug to Steve in a toast. "We make a better world for all those little ones and their parents."

Smiling, Steve lifts his coffee mug and gently clinks it against that in Kai's hand, careful not to use too much strength. No breaking mugs. Tony gets annoyed when that happens. "Brothers in arms," he echoes quietly. "I'm more than happy to stand between anything that would harm a family. Everyone deserves the right to live their lives in peace, to grow up without knowing fear."

Kai nods firmly. "My family is from Alfheim, but Midgard is my home, and its people are my people. I believe in taking care of my own for as long as I can." His grin returns in short order. "And it's an honor and a privilege to stand beside some of the finest people in the universe to work toward the goal. It makes me rather grateful for the Avengers, actually. So much so I almost feel bad about that ferret I put in Stark's suit."

Thank god nothing's in Steve's mouth when he hears what went into Tony's suit. He laughs abruptly, the sound loud and bright, and leans back in his chair, giving the Elf a dubiously amused look.

"…you did not put a ferret in his suit, Kai," he says, the reprimand softened over by the sheer amount of delight he's taking in hearing the utterly unpredictable turn of events to last plague the genius-inventor.

Butter wouldn't melt in Kai's mouth. Oh, yes. Yes, he did do just that. "The ferret's okay," he's happy to report. "Though I think Stark's holding it hostage. I don't take him as a tormenter, though." He takes another forkful of that delicious pie, enjoying it thoroughly. "Did you know weasels and ferrets are in the same family? It makes a lot of sense, if you look at them."

"It does make a lot of sense and yes, I did know that weasels and ferrets are in the same family." One can tell that Steve's struggling to remain the responsible one in the room by how he fills his mouth with multiple bites of chicken pot pie, as if that would stopper up his thoughts. However, there's no escaping it. He needs to know and asks overtop the rim of his coffee mug, "…how did he react?"

Kai grins, sudden and bright. "He shot out of that suit so fast I thought he was on fire," he says with a cackle. "I think he made it halfway across the room before his feet even touched the floor. Then out comes Fluffy scampering around like it's all one big grand game. Of course I'm the one he yells at." Kai doesn't even try to pretend that's unfair, after all, he did do it. "Then he picked up the ferret, shook his finger at me, and went downstairs."

The kitchen is briefly filled with laughter, perhaps a counterpoint to the usual somber air of respectibility and responsibility and other things ending in -ility. Steve folds his arms and shakes his head even as he listens, trying so very hard to disapprove of this, but…but…it was too good.

"I'm a little sad that I missed that," he admits, leaning forwards again to work at the last third of his serving. "I'll see if I can rescue Fluffy. I'm sure he's fine, but we don't need a loose ferret running about the mansion." Because chaos would ensue.

Kai beams as he takes in Steve's mirth. Sometimes, just sometimes, a man has to laugh. "I do hope Fluffy's being taken care of," he says. "He's a clever ferret. He might make a good mascot. He's reminded Stark to check his gear before suiting up, and I think that's a lesson we can all appreciate."

There is a rumbling from upstairs, or at least a cluster of voices. Kai looks toward the stairs and says, "Uh oh. We've been found out." He takes a drink from his mug, then sets it down and says, "I'm going to set another portion aside for you, then take the rest upstairs. Don't worry, I can make this recipe again any time."

"Thank you, Kai. I'll be sure to request it," the Captain replies even as he follows the Elf's gaze upwards and towards the attic. Indeed, they've been scented — or the pot pie has, more precisely. "They'll appreciate it."

Once Steve's finished his portion and his coffee, down-down-down he'll go, in search for the fabled Fluffy, destroyer of composure and proposed mascot of the mansion.

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