dovelike | (no subject)

This qualifies as a success! So far. The vegetable piles are given a nod of approval.

"Now we just need to put some water on for the rice and get the veggies going. So we'll need a medium sauce pan and frying pan."

Cue five or six seconds of panic, before she judges exactly what constitutes 'medium' sizes of pans, and pulls them down from the odd hanging thing that her mother apparently brought over as well.

"Okay! Now what?"

"Fill the sauce pan up about," he squints at it for a moment, "halfway with water and then set it on the stove to boil. The frying pan, put it at a medium heat with a bit of oil in to start."

Done and done. Eirene also follows the next set of instructions very carefully, which includes putting on the rice on to boil, and then the veggies about ten minutes after that. Messing up in front of Clark is not something she wants to do often.

Still, half an hour later, she's setting the counter with her very own dinner plates and ladling rice and veggies onto them while Clark rescues the meat.

It's almost domestic.

Clark coming back into the kitchen bearing meat, with Eirene preparing the plates? Yeah. Domestic is a word for it. Not that that crosses his mind, of course. It's just food.

The now cooked pork is set on a hotplate on the counter, and Clark almost beams at how well she seems to be doing. "See, I said it was easy. This looks great."

Clark isn't the only one beaming. Eirene just helped prepare her first meal -- and she didn't screw it up! Clearly, this calls for a celebration. Which includes another quick kiss before she grabs glasses as well and fills them with--

wait for it

-- milk.

"Good instruction."

"There's something to be said for keeping it simple." Clark finds the cutlery drawer and pulls out two sets, then starts for the table.

"Especially when simple prevents me from setting fire to the kitchen." She picks up the plates and follows him over, setting one in front of his chair and the other in front of hers.

"Okay, dinner. Apologies in advance if I end up poisoning you."

:D

Clark snorts softly and sits down.

"Unless you have access to some little green rocks I don't know about, I don't think that's possible."

"Actually, no. I memorized what they looked like, and conducted an extensive search when I came back from your world. There are no meteor rocks here that belong to Krypton."

She takes her seat as well, then reaches across the table to capture his hand.

"Clark. Thank you. Sharing my first meal in my own house with you ... I couldn't imagine anything better."

"Oh." He had been joking, but that's... interesting. A world without kryptonite.

He squeezes her hand. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could share it with you so you wouldn't be alone"

"Sorry. Did I overstep my bounds?"

While she's waiting for him to answer, Eirene starts in on her dinner, very carefully cutting the pork into little pieces so Clark doesn't think she's some sort of ancient barbarian deity.

Cough.

"No, of course not." He shrugs, mixing up his rice and vegetables. "It's just not something that ever actually occurred to me."

He's moping into his dinner. Meaning Eirene abandons her chair and walks around the table until she's crouched at his side.

"Hey, I once told you that I'd look out for you, right? If there was a chance those rocks were here, I had to know about it. Overprotective goddess and all."

It's not really moping. Just caught him off guard, is all.

"I appreciate that." Clark manages another small smile and tugs her up to her feet. "It's just a little strange, knowing I'm in a place it doesn't exist."

"Just trying to help." She leans over and presses a kiss to his temple, and then scoots back around to her chair so as to sit down and finish eating.

In some small embarassment for being overzealous.

"I know. Thank you." Another smile, and then he'll get down to the serious business of eating dinner.

It's not half bad.

No, it's not. Which is to say, it's not all good either, but decent enough for someone's very first attempt at cooking that doesn't involve microwaves or magic.

Eventually their plates are emptied, and refilled, and in Clark's case, refilled again, and Eirene spends an oddly enjoyable ten minutes washing dishes.

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

Eirene is no Martha Kent. But then, no one is aside from the real deal.

Clark dries, sleeves rolled up and a towel tossed over his shoulder. "I'm here to help. Whatever you need done."

"How about I give you a tour of the place, and you pick which room you'd like to sleep in tonight. Let me go rummage up some sleepwear for you in mine. What do you normally wear?"

"Uh." Well, that depends. But Clark will go for the safe answer. "Sweats and a t-shirt. But you don't have to go through any trouble."

"No trouble, but I will be conjuring them up. There shouldn't be any side effects. Give me a couple minutes?" She darts up to the first floor on assent, and returns several minutes later with a pair of sweatpants and a white t shirt, both of which are perfectly ordinary made-by-goddess garments.

"Here."

Clark waits patiently, walking slowly around the sitting room while she's gone. He accepts the clothes gratefully.

"You know, you don't have to hide every time you want to do something like that. I have to get used to it eventually."

"I don't?" She tilts her head, studying him intently for a long moment, and then nods. "Hows this. For anything major I have to do, I'll do that out of sight, because I really don't want to make you uncomfortable. Small thing, like pjs, I'll stick around for."

"Oh, I forgot something." Eirene reaches out to gently tug him down so she can kiss his cheek, and maybe his jaw too.

"Sounds good." For now.

But then there's kissing, and magic is shoved out of Clark's mind fairly quickly.