tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; RIGHT NOW hi → August 27, 2008
Rating; Can't be more than PG
Characters; Regulus (

facesdeath) & ~~Cheerleader~~ Claire (

adamantined)
Summary; Cupcakes! No, really.
Log;

If anything, cupcake-making is a good way to avoid working. Number one, it is, in itself, like working. There's work involved. One must work in order to accomplish one's goal. Even if that goal happens to be something that Claire really needs to stop making before she begins to get some sort of reputation. But it's not her fault. Number two, it's a good way to avoid doing anything substantial - at least in Regulus's case, since she's never going to let him touch the oven - other than sitting around and licking the bowl. He needs to eat more anyway. Depending on who you talk to, that might be substantial, but Claire isn't saying anything.

In fact, all she's doing is hanging out in the living room until Regulus knocks on the door. And then she's going to answer it. And then she's going to say hello. She goes over this in her head like some sort of idiotic preschooler learning the alphabet, trying to catch Mr Muggles so she can shut him in a bedroom but all the while making sure to listen for a knock or two.

She's happy Peter's working and Zach is somewhere or other so no one has to see her acting like a spaz.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I think you would've gotten a little bit more than a pat on the back," she says, and she looks a bit sheepish, too, but she does mean it. Then again she knows that heroes aren't always appreciated the way that they should be, so she understands, too, in a way.

"Is that like... celebrity status where you come from? Like football - er, American football - for us?" She even makes animated hand movements to go with this. Kind of like spazzing a little.

"Maybe. I don't mind it either way." He didn't do it for the fame, anyway. His fingers curl and uncurl once, thoughtfully, but sports distract him.

"Sort of, if American football is what I think it is." The hand movements make him grin a little. "I'd have done it just to be able to play, though. I was never too much for standing out."

She knows that, even without him having to say that. Claire pays attention to little things, like the way his fingers curl and uncurl and, suddenly, she wants and needs something to do with her hands, which ends up being gathering up all the dirty utensils to start washing. Claire flips the tap on and keeps listening.

"American football is like... a bunch of a big guys chasing after a ball and hitting each other." She laughs, loud, at that. "My brother would probably kill me if he heard me say that. No, he'd tackle me. He plays football." There's a moment of silence while she cleans out the bowl. "I like you how you are."

Which might not have anything to do with his not standing out but... she'll spit it out anyway.

He blinks a little and watches her - then laughs at her description of American Football. "Oh yes, the violent one. Quidditch can get pretty violent too..."

He'd broken his arm, once. But it had been healed almost immediately, so what matter was it?

This last makes him smile and he moves without thought - the touch to her arm is merely a second before he retracts it, but it's there - a small thank you. Suddenly though he's busying himself with taking the cupcakes out of the oven, sans magic. "Thank you."

"Hey, I heard rugby is a lot more violent than football, thank you very much," she says, drying the big bowl out and putting it away. "I don't like football all that much, but I used to be a cheerleader, so I have to defend it on principle."

Claire's broken her arm once, and it, too, healed almost immediately, though their circumstances were likely entirely different.

She smiles and turns red a little at that touch to her arm, but it's easily mistaken as being from the steam, and likely is from the steam for the most part. But Claire keeps herself distracted and busy by scrubbing to get all the batter and flour and egg off of and out of the measuring cups and spoons. She probably doesn't need to scrub as hard as she does, but, again, it's a distraction. "You don't have to thank me."

It sounds weird besides.

"Never played rugby." It comes out smoothly enough - even while he's staring at his sad, flat cupcakes.

... Right. "I told you I'm rubbish." He gestures to the tin, scowling lightly - though it's good-natured enough.

He's all for the subject to remain on the baked goods however, and stares at them intently. "I wonder if they're still edible."

Claire looks over and then comes over, standing next to him and staring down at his sad, sad cupcakes. She's doing her best to hold in her laughter. "Well," she says, staring at them still, even after a minute or two. "It's not as bad as Tavi's."

Without thinking, she goes to dig some up with her finger, realizes what she's doing, then pulls her hand away, waving it, trying to cool it off. "Smart, Claire," she says, and goes to get a fork so she can eat one.

When she comes back, she's determined and says, "Bottoms up," before taking a bite.

"I suppose that's all right, if they're not the worst..." He grins a little - though he does frown at the, er, mishap. "All right, Claire?"

She seems to be fine though and grabs a fork of his own, glaring at the cupcakes - and watching Claire take her bite - before using the fork to take a bite.

... Well, at least they don't taste bad.

She actually has the decency to swallow before she says anything, though she's sucking in air because, uh, hot. Apparently they suck at this.

"Could be better with some icing but I think you did okay." She takes another bite. Apparently, actually, they're addictive. "Except for, you know the part where they're flat."

"We probably should have waited for them to cool," Is what he manages once he's swallowed the bite. Or he could have cooled them, but that was cheating, remember?

He takes another bite as well, apparently not minding it. "Well, better flat and tasty than fluffy and tasting awful?"

"Or we could have milk," she says, matter-of-factly, very my-non-magic-owns-your-magic-ha-ha-ha. Claire goes to get milk, not bothering with a glass as she drinks straight out of the plastic container, because they don't do cartons, okay.

She's got a milk mustache when she says, "Fluffy awful-tasting ones would be cruelly deceptive, Regulus. Want some?" Here, have some milk.

"Or we could have milk." He's grinning as he watches her, and shakes his head a little - clearly amused enough.

"Good thing they're this, then. This way no one will want them and they'll be for us." You know what, sure. He drinks from the plastic container too. Because, you know, no glasses.

Claire is already intent on eating every single cupcake out of the pan as Regulus takes a drink. The cupcakes-that-aren't appear to be getting better with every bite, but Claire still thinks they could go better with a little icing. This time when she speaks, her mouth is still full, but she's comfortable enough that it doesn't matter much. "Next time you should make cheesecake and see what happens."

There might be a smirk in there. There might be. "Milk, please." She takes it without him having to hand it over.

"What if I blow it up?" He might have already eaten two cupcakes and is working on a third, and he doesn't seem to mind talking with his mouth full either.

If he notices the smirk he says nothing - an eyebrow raises though, and he manages to take another drink of milk before she can steal it. He also just may look the most relaxed he's ever been, leaning on the counter and eating flat cupcakes like there's no tomorrow.

"If you blow it up, then I'm going to record it for evidence because I don't know anyone who can make a cheesecake blow up." There is face-stuffing and laughing, because she's picturing it and it's hilarious.

She actually kicks him in the leg while he's drinking, though it's not hard at all and her expression is rather ridiculous, but she has to stop doing that while she's drinking.

"I've blown up lots of things." Maybe this isn't something to be proud of, Regulus. But he's laughing too, so it's all right.

He almost chokes in surprise when she kicks him, though - spluttering a little. "Hey!" He's still laughing though and thinks on it a moment - gaze flicking from her to his wand while he tries not to grin.

He's not plotting anything.

"Oh, really? Like what?" Because she really is interested, honest. This is totally not to use against him later at all.

"I see what you're doing!" she says, and she plans on going for that wand if he even plans on using it in any way, shape, or form. Not that she can do much with it, bu still.

"Potions, mostly." He eyes her a moment, wary--

Then grins, holding up both hands disarmingly. "I'm not doing anything, Claire!" He was going to cast a tickling charm, but he'll wait now until she doesn't expect it.

He's still a little evil, maybe.

"Oh. Right." Claire wants to play with the things she sees in Snape's shop but, in addition to being a competent worker she's also not suicidal.

She laughs and finishes up her... fifth cupcake(?), and then tosses the fork into the sink before going for one last drink of milk. "You're making me want to throw up, that's what you're doing," she says, with a look of mock offense but she's obviously joking.

This is probably a good idea, since exploding potions often have terrible consequences.

He sets the fork aside too, moving to (somewhat lazily) clean up the mess. "That's just because you ate my awful cupcakes, Claire." He grins at her over his shoulder - joking gets easier every day.

"I didn't knooooooooow they were going to poison me." She's slumped all over the counter now, trying to look as miserable as possible.

She kind of fails.

"Unless the recipe you gave me called for poison, I doubt it."

He's leaning over the counter now too - staring at her with a little grin.

He sees that failure, miss.

"I don't remember arsenic being on there, no. I should've listened."

Claire makes some sort of ridiculously stupid face and then looks away, putting her head down in the circle of her arms to hide her face. It's better than looking at him like an idiot.

"You should've, but you didn't."

He's teasing a little - and moves to finish cleaning up before he sort of flops bonelessly on the counter again. "I don't think I want to move any more."

"Okay, well I'll remember that in the future."

Claire is sort of nonsensically wandering over to the couch, where she flops down and looks like she might be ready for a nap. Or death. She rolls her head to look into the kitchen at Regulus and then flops her hand against the cushion a couple of times. "Come fail to move out here where it's at least comfortable and not, you know, a counter."

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