Chris' Apartment

[Chris]

Continued from: General Stores etc; S & J’s Market with Sarah.


“All I’m saying,” Chris continued groggily as they trudged down the hall to his door, one of his hands digging in his pocket for his keys as they walked, “is that it’s a lot of money to spend on food I can’t even cook myself.” She offered him a half-hearted mock glare, prompting him to admit defeat, “All right, all right… but most of it’s gonna end up in the freezer, just to keep it from going off, or something.” He shrugged, pulling his keys from his pocket.

Managing to get them in the lock, and open the door at the same time as carrying a bag of groceries, Chris let Sarah in first, before stepping in after her. Kicking the door closed lightly behind him, he realised he’d hadn’t opened the shades before heading to work. “Oops… dark…” He offered a sheepish smile, setting the bag on the coffee table, and moved to let some natural light into the room.

[Sarah]

"The perishables, except for the milk, are all going into the pot roast," Sarah replied, opening cabinet doors in search of the right size pot. "All the other stuff will keep. And here's how much I must really dote on you -- after we've eaten, I'll put the leftover pot roast into those individual serving dishes I got you. You know the kind that go from the freezer to the microwave? I'll freeze the pot roast in those, and then when you're hungry, you just take one out of the freezer and throw it in the microwave for a few minutes. Nothing to it."

She put the pot under the faucet and started running water into it. "Meanwhile, you still need that nap."

[Chris]

It wasn’t that Chris didn’t understand why people often acted surprised whenever Sarah ‘bossed him around’; it was just that he hadn’t known any different for a good few years now, since they had gotten comfortable in their partnership. He didn’t see it as anything out of the ordinary, but, he supposed, many people would be taken aback by a six-foot-plus man taking ‘orders’ from a woman considerably shorter than him… well, a noticeable few inches, anyway.

Stifling a yawn even as Sarah mentioned that nap he’d stated as a possibility, he realised she wouldn’t be satisfied until he at least flopped on the sofa. And as a matter of fact, it looked pretty damn inviting, now that he thought about it. “Right.” He dropped onto the cushions, and then decided he should at least move to a position that wouldn’t leave him in pain when he woke up, if he ended up dropping off at all. “Help yourself to… whatever.” It was pointless for him to make the offer, since he had always let her do as much, but it was automatic to say it.

[Sarah]

"Yes, dear. Sleep," she ordered. Sarah really rather enjoyed bossing Chris around, not least because he was so good-humored about it. She suspected that he kind of liked it, himself, since the whole reason (or at least the main reason) she did it was because she cared about him so much.

She tried to be quiet in the kitchen, putting the meal together. It was very soothing to her, chopping onion and slicing up carrot and celery and seasoning meat; the dinner would be extremely savory when she was done.

He really does need to eat better anyway. Not that Sarah had a problem with takeout -- she ate a good bit of it herself -- but a body shouldn't live on it.

[Chris]

He chuckled to himself, dropping his head back on the cushion behind it, propped up against the arm of the rather long sofa; he was still too tall for it, but any bigger, and it wouldn’t have fit into the apartment when he’d moved in. Listening to Sarah work in the kitchen for a little while, Chris wondered if he was comfortable, or if he should just give up, when he thought nothing was happening.

Naturally, thinking about going to sleep didn’t exactly lend itself to achieving such a state in the first place… of course, Chris wasn’t normal in any sense of the word, so somewhere in the middle of thinking about whether or not he would actually fall asleep… he did.

[Sarah]

Several minutes later, the pot roast was simmering on low heat on the back burner. It would cook like that for a few hours -- she could make one that would take less time, but this way, she reasoned, Chris could sleep longer. The smell would wake him eventually.

Putting the lid on the pot, Sarah went into the living room, and involuntarily smiled when she saw her sleeping friend sprawled on the couch. She closed the shades again, so the movement of the sun wouldn't disturb him, and moved quietly around the room, straightening up the place. For a bachelor, Chris was actually reasonably tidy, so there wasn't too much to be done. Satisfied, she sat down in the large comfy chair and, deciding that he had a pretty good idea, curled up into a little Sarah-ball. Pillowing her head on one of the chair's arms, she was shortly asleep herself.

[Chris]

Chris practically fell off the sofa when his cell phone started ringing, loudly and unexpectedly. “Agh!” He almost bashed his knee on the coffee table, catching himself just before that happened, and blinked, surprised, before he really registered the sound of the ringer. Like many people who owned a cell phone, he designated certain ring-tones to particular individuals, or groups of individuals. The one that was currently sounding through the apartment belonged to ‘family’.

… The hell? Finding his phone on the table near the doorway, he checked the display, before answering, running his hand over his eyes as he did so. “Hey, Uncle Ted. What’s up?” He glanced back over to the lounge as he listened, and then towards the kitchen. He assumed he hadn’t been asleep long, but Sarah wasn’t exactly a blur of activity, so either she had been tired as well, or he’d been out longer than—

“You’re kidding…” Chris’ brow furrowed, but he started smiling anyway. “Seriously? Well, how much?” He paused, and then shook his head. “No, that’s too much; I can’t—” He laughed to himself, trying to stay quiet so he didn’t disturb his dozing partner. “C’mon… that’s a lot. I mean…” As always when it came to his uncle, he realised he was fighting a losing battle, as much as he hated to admit it. “You’re sure? I mean… Megan doesn’t—?” He laughed again. “No, I can’t see her driving it either.” Shaking his head lightly, he continued, “You’re absolutely sure you don’t want anything for it? My birthday’s not for months.” Chris smiled. “I owe you one, really… no, really, I mean it.”

[Sarah]

Sarah blinked, feeling extremely fuzzy. She wasn't disoriented, however; the smell of the cooking roast brought to mind exactly where she was and what had been happening before her nap. She rubbed her eyes, wondering what had woken her, and then focused on the sound of Chris's voice. He was on the phone....with whom? He sounded relatively pleased, anyway, so it couldn't be anything bad.

She remained where she was, eyes open but otherwise in the same position in which she'd been sleeping, waiting for the call to end so she could ask what was happening.

[Chris]

“Again… no, I really owe you. Anything you need.” He chuckled. “So you’re gonna drive it all the way here? With Megan— no, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just…” Chris laughed again, glancing to the sofa to see that Sarah was awake, even if she hadn’t moved. “Just be careful, okay? Call me when you’re on the way… or whatever, yeah. Just call me.” Still smiling, he said, “I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks, again.”

With that, he hung up, closing the phone by folding it in half. “My uncle just became the man of the year,” he quipped with a smirk and a chuckle, moving back over to the couch, running a hand through his hair as he did so.

[Sarah]

"That so?" Sarah yawned, rubbing at her face, and sat up slowly so she wouldn't get dizzy and do something dumb like fall off the chair. She wasn't overly concerned about looking dumb in front of Chris -- it had probably happened more times than she even realized -- but the floor was a little on the hard side. "What's he done?"

[Chris]

“Remember how I’ve been complaining about not having a car, recently, after my last one died on me?” He flipped the phone up into the air a little way, catching it easily before setting it down on the table between them. “Well, he got me one.” He laughed again, leaning forward slightly to put his elbows on his knees.

“Not just that, but it’s a nice car… which means I might have to use the underground parking this complex has.” Chris smiled faintly. “It’s a ‘69 Camaro that a friend of his got hold of, and fixed up, and he remembered I’ve always wanted one, so… he’s giving it to me. Crazy thing is, he doesn’t want anything for it. That car’s worth a couple thousand easy, at least, and that’s only if it’s not in the original condition.”

[Sarah]

"Oooooh, a classic!" Sarah grinned. "That's awesome. He sounds like a sweetheart."

She got up and stretched, then went to check on the roast. "C'mere and taste this," she called, stirring at the gravy in which the meat and vegetables were simmering. As he entered the kitchen, she asked, "Did I hear you say your cousin's coming with him to deliver it? I like her." She lifted a spoonful, blew on it carefully, and offered it to him to sample.

[Chris]

Stepping into his kitchen, he nodded his head, even as he took the spoon. “Yeah. She’s driving his car behind him, so they’ll be able to drive back instead of having to take the bus, or whatever.” Tasting the sample on the spoon, he nodded his head again. “That’s good.” He offered it back to her, and smiled. “I’m amazed my stove works; I never use it.”

Leaning against the other counter, he said, “Sorry if I woke you up. I nearly bashed my knee on the table when I got up to answer the phone.” He chuckled. “Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting the call.”

[Sarah]

"I would never have guessed." Sarah chuckled. "All right, well, this is ready to eat if you're hungry. Or, if you'd rather go back to sleep, I'll just put it on very low heat to keep it warm until you're ready...and I'll find something else to occupy my time. Which do you think is the more scintillating option, vacuumming my living room or washing my kitchen floor?" She grinned at him.

[Chris]

Chris laughed to himself, shaking his head. “I could eat now.” He nodded instead, and smiled. “Smells too good to let it sit there, anyway.” He moved to tell her where the plates and dishes were, and then reminded himself that Sarah probably knew better than he did.

She uses your kitchen more than you do, anyway. He thought about offering to help, but knew she would only shoo him out of the way, even if it was a genuine gesture. “Thirsty?” he asked, already moving for the refrigerator.