tampered | How very...domestic.

Entry tags:

How very...domestic.

When; Wednesday the 4th
Rating; N/A
Characters; Khan and Lara Croft
Summary; The flirting has come to fruition, and Khan and Lara are shacking up. ~~Her canon taste in men bites her in the arse again.~~ This is their move in day.

Log; Khan was no stranger to physical work. He preferred to assign tasks to others while he did the cerebral stuff. But it was no great strain to carry their boxes up into their new two-bedroom flat. In fact, he could carry three or four at a time without effort.

What was difficult was pretending to be struggling against the refrigerator's weight as he maneuvered it into place. When he could probably have bench-pressed the thing. Heh.

"Lara? Come be my eyes for me? Where's the plug?" he called out from behind the fridge's white bulk.

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Lara had carried her share of boxes, too, but didn't make it appear that she was much stronger than the average woman of her age group. There was no need to reveal everything about herself, was there? Dressed in light-weight trousers, a sleeveless top and her practical, if somewhat daring, black 'raiding' boots, she was ready for a break.

She set a box of dishes down, thinking this was terribly domestic and so not like her usual scenario. Still, she was all about 'Adapt and Overcome'. It was one of the reasons she had survived in her line of work for so long. Approaching the kitchen, she sighed a little and leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across her breasts. Why had John not checked on the location of the plug before going behind the fridge? A stupid man he wasn't -- not be a long shot -- but at least he wasn't the cerebral type who opted to be completely helpless.

"To your left," she said, raising her voice a little so he's be able to hear her properly. "About twenty-two centimeters from the back and twelve centimeters from the floor."

That got a slim smirk out of him. Ah, Lara. You're one hell of a woman. Wrestling the plug around, he deftly got it in to the socket on the first attempt, and then slowly walked the thing back to lie flush with the wall.

"Ta," he answered, stepping back and wiping his brow. "Remind me next time we get a flat to find one with a built-in refrigerator."

For a man who once ruled half the world, it was remarkably soothing to be...on holiday, as it were. Even the monster could be the man. Although there would have to come a day when he finally confessed his real identity to her. If anybody would understand it, it was Lara Croft. On that day, John Harrison would die, and Khan Noonien Singh would live openly, no more hiding.

The fridge was finally in place: it was truly a wonderous moment. Now they could load it with the items they'd hastily grabbed at the market.

Ever useful, she stayed where she was and said, "Next time? Find a flat with a built-in refrigerator."

Lara was curious about John, but she was one of those people born prepared for any eventuality -- four hundred years of stubborn, eccentric Crofts. At least, she hoped she was prepared.

"Shall we load it?"

"Oh! Thank you!"

He even laughed at her joke, appreciating her quip for what it was. In answer to her second question, he wordlessly extended his hand for the grocery bags. They could unpack everything later, not that they had much to unpack. The food going off was definitely a worry.

He laughed. She didn't think of herself as lame, but it wasn't really that funny, was it? Still, good on him for being relaxed after carrying most of his library -- there wasn't much else, really -- to the new flat. That and a few things he seemed to appreciate. All she had was on her back.

Lara passed the grocery bags to him, which didn't take very long as there were only four of them.

"Hungry?" she asked as the last bag left her hand.

"Actually, yes, I am rather. Shall I make the salmon tonight?"

He pulled the butcher-paper wrapped fish out of the bag and held it up for her to inspect. Yes...Khan Noonien Singh was offering to cook for her. And of course he'd do it with the competence and perfection that he did every other task.

Little does she realize how unique the experience will be.

"Sounds delicious," she replied, eyeing the fish. "I'd offer to help, but the kitchen and I have issues. Perhaps I should find enough plates cutlery so we can eat properly?" To that end, she crossed into the dining area and bent over to lift a box onto the table.

"Good idea."

As she crossed the room, however, his eyes followed her, watching her body move with a lithe grace that was completely appealing. God. She had to be an Augment of some sort, normal humans just did not look like her. What he wouldn't give to see her family tree...

He was silent as he watched her, knowing she would eventually notice. He was too much a gentleman to pounce. Let it come to fruition slowly. Let her make the first move.

As Lara emptied retrieved what they needed for the immediate future, she noted that her new roommate wasn't making a sound.

Hmmm.

She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, long braid sliding across her shoulder blades. He was looking at her, the salmon apparently forgotten. Lara met his gaze. Quite the handsome fellow, was John. He made things seem effortless and he was smart and those hands...

"John?"

"...Yes, Lara?"

Nothing he did was without purpose. If he was caught looking, it was because he wanted to be. And Lara Croft had his whole attention now.

He didn't move from his spot in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter next to the stove, arms across his chest. And a small smile was turning up one corner of his mouth.

Not budging. Well, neither was she, no matter how appealing he was, especially with that little smile. She smiled back.

"Did we get any beans to go with that?" Lara's eyes darted to the fish, then back to his face. His striking, remarkable face...

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

She was probably the only woman in the universe who could make that sound flirtatious. That smile on his face got a bit bigger, and he finally turned back around to get dinner going.

"Do you like crispy skin salmon? Or skin off and poached?"

She turned, her smile widening. How did he make a question about fish sound like flirting?

"I like it crispy," she said, her hands moving to rest on the edge of the table on either side of her. "Keeps the juices in."

"It'll be ready in ten minutes."

With a practiced ease, he started preparing the fish, his focus now on that. It was exact, precise, and competent, his hands moving swiftly and effortlessly over the preparation.

He had to admit, he liked being domestic with her.

That didn't give her very long to set the table, but it was just a casual dinner. Not like they needed candles or anything fancy. Besides, that might make it seem romantic and they weren't like that.

And the sun was still shining, so candles would be silly.

Lara rolled her eyes a little, decided she needed a good night's sleep in one of those wonderful beds that came with the place and turned again to watch him prepare dinner.

Such marvellous hands...

Very soon, there was an excellent meal being laid down in front of her, with sauteed greens, and fish, and the beans she requested.

"There you are, my dear."

And...wow, he was a good cook. The fish was perfectly prepared. He'd been watching sneaky tricks on Food Network apparently.

"It smells incredible," she said, pulling out a chair and sitting without looking at anything but the meal before her. "Do you cook often, John?"

Lara didn't wait for his reply, but picked up her forked, gently speared a bean and placed it in her mouth like it was a delicacy. She 'hmmmed' appreciatively, swallowed and tried the fish. Her eyes closed and she sighed. Her lips briefly looked like they might want to form a word, but she didn't want to speak with her mouth full. So she 'hmmmed' again.

"Sometimes."

Like when he was holed up in the capitol of Laos, once upon a time, cooking his own meals to make certain he wasn't poisoned by a dissident, or fellow Augment. Ah, good times.

"I frequently just make myself a salad, or chicken. Something simple, fuel instead of art or enjoyment. But...our first night in our new flat, I thought we deserved something special."

Lara swallowed, opened her eyes, and looked across the table at John. He was smart, thoughtful, eloquent, good-looking. He reminded her of a panther when he moved.

And she was certain that still waters ran very deep.

Curiosity killed the cat, lara.

"Thank you, John. I appreciate being the recipient of a rarity." Was there wine with their meal? It would certainly be appropriate...

"I found us a bottle of wine. Would you care for some?"

It was as if he was reading her mind, which he wasn't. It was strictly a coincidence, nothing more. But he would rather like to wine and dine her. The sensual side of the man was coming out, now that he was able to relax a little bit.

Oh, splendid.

"Yes, please."

It hadn't been a difficult move, but it had been a long day, regardless. Every time she ventured into a new area of the City, she was alert and taking it all in, her memory noting things for later recall, like the height of the buildings, the variety of foods, what languages were being spoken.

Were any of the structures fortified against aggressors?

A glass of wine, maybe even two, would help her wind down.

They had no wine glasses, so he ended up pouring the white wine into regular glass tumblers, just the same amount it would be normally.

"We'll add wine glasses to the list," he said with a smirk as he handed her the drink. "And, please, anything else you can think of. Within reason, of course. I'm sorry to say I can't quite buy you a jacuzzi yet."

She accepted the glass and laughed softly.

"I'm not that demanding," she said, even though a part of her missed soaking in the hot tub at the manor, taking some of the ache away from her muscles after a workout. She'd done without many a time before and would do so now.

High maintenance, she was not.

As far as she was concerned, anyway.

"You needn't worry, John. I promise not to drain your funds." Lara had a sip of wine, let the taste and tingle make an impression on her lips, then had another sip. It wasn't bad.

"I trust you."

Which was highly ironic, all things considered. And as he was eating and drinking, he was more and more tempted to confess his pseudonym now rather than later. The longer the lie went on, the angrier she would be in the end.

But how to bring it up?

She watched him eat for a few beats, then focused on her own meal, wondering what was going through his head. To her, this was an adventure, being in a strange place with all sorts of restrictions and serious repurcussions to try to escape.

Which, of course, didn't mean she wasn't going to try. A different approach than Flash and friends tried was obviously warranted.

But what was it really like for John? Facts. Many were apparent, to her, anyway: high level of intellect, refined manners, determination, strength, intense curiosity -- books, and books, and books -- a desire for control over his environment, need for privacy.

Precise. Everything was so precise in a way that was completely natural to him.

And right now, he seemed to be mulling something over.

Edited 2013-09-05 13:12 (UTC)

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