2011 12 11 Smore Good Times

Log Title:
Smore good times

Human Torch and Richenda Gray

IC Date:
11 Dec 2011


Baxter Building

Brief log summary::

Johnny sneaks in only to find someone has stayed up for him.


There is no TS in this log::

-==[ Main Corridor - 31st Floor Fantastic Four HQ ]==-----

More like a reflection of one's home and with a more comfortable setting, this hallway gives the traveller the impression of family. Still done in white and blues, this hallway offers photographs of the Fantastic Four and those that are close to them such as Crystalia, Medusa, Jennifer, Luke Cage, and many others who have served with the team or just fell into the family friendship. Many doors can be found from this hallway plus the twists and turns that can be walked down.

Late hours are a superhero's unfortunate stock in trade in New York. Supervillains, and the regular kind, are notoriously bad about the whole time clock thing. But that doesn't mean nobody ever waits up for them.

In the FF's deserted living room, Chenda Gray lets the TV flicker to itself, the images of a late movie the farthest thing from her mind. The soundtrack simply fills in the silent space of the room as the gypsy girl muses over Johnny Storm's last words to the room earlier that night. It doesn't help the worry any. The slightest sound from outside the room brings her eyes flitting to the door.

Late it is indeed. As the elevator doors in the landing slides open, there's the slightest of sighs before the sound of the fridge door opens. With moments the door closes and steps come closer to the living room as the crack of the plastic seal of a water bottle and a slight warming of the room serves as the only announcement of the Torch being home. Boisterous as he can be, even he knows not to wake his sister at Oh-God! in the morning.

The faint sound of the bottle seal draws Chenda's attention, and she looks up quickly. Relief hits her face for a moment. "Johnny! You're all right," she says, turning in her chair. She's careful to keep her voice down as well. Growing kid in the house. Her usual sangfroid returns quickly. "Kinda thought you would be. I left the stuff out if you wanted to make up for the s'mores you missed," she adds, gesturing to a tray on the coffee table. Perfect return to normalcy… except for the telltale rosiness of embarrassment in her cheeks.

Not expecting for anyone to still be up, Johnny glances towards Richenda for several moments, cap tightening up on the bottle once more. The room, seems to be getting a tad warmer as he lingers. Like if someone just sat next to the ash and embers of a recently died fire. "Chenda?" He finally replies, "What are you still doing up?" There's no question to her still being at his home, because well, with Sue around, it might as well be classified as a hotel, "Isn't it late for you?"

"A little, but no big deal. I kept some strange hours back home, and I can't break the habit," Chenda replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And I figured somebody should be up when you got back, just in case… um, well, just in case."

Johnny grows quiet, looking at Chenda oddly a bit more as the room continues to get warmer with his presence. "I was helping out the fire department," he offers in explanation to his where abouts, "Warehouse fire. No people. But pretty big."

"Oh… oh! I guess that's what you meant when you mentioned ladders," Chenda says, blushing again as she finally gets it. The odd look from Johnny only makes it worse. "That's still pretty heroic, though. I mean, fires spread. It might've gotten to the neighboring buildings, or gone across the street. Without looking both ways, even."

"Which is probably why they called me on my off time." Johnny agrees, giving a nod, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle again, "Fires don't really check people's work schedules before popping up."

"Nope," Chenda agrees. She glances at the TV, since it's someplace to look besides Johnny's face. Her fingertips brush her face, making her realize she's blushing, and only making her blush more. "Want to help me watch… um, whatever this is?" she asks, not recognizing the movie at all.

On the screen, a man in a trenchcoat and fedora knocks on the door of a house. "He's the hero, I think. Selling insurance," she guesses, seeing he's carrying a briefcase. Then the door is answered and a huge gunfight begins with obvious mobsters, complete with bad Italian accents. Oops! "Um… I guess they don't want any…"

Johnny doesn't answer immediately as he proceeds to chug down the bottle's contents with the general sound effects of rapid glugging. Bubbles travel up the liquid as his Adam's apple bounces to the fast drinking. When there's just a bit left, he glances towards the screen, eyeing what's being displayed before nodding, "Sure. Just… He looks to his near empty bottle, "Let me go grab a couple more of these first."

Chenda glances back at the sound of water-chugging, and tries not to giggle. Having grown up around circus people and clowns and their habits, she's more inclined to think of rushed eating and drinking as humorous than gross. "Sure. I guess firefighting's hot work," she replies. Darnit, unintentional pun! She looks away quickly, pretending to be absorbed in the onscreen violence. She's not very good at it.

"And none come hotter than me." Johnny replies without missing a beat, lifting up his bottle in a mock toast as he starts to exit the room. There's the sound of another gulp before being replaced by the sound of the fridge door openening again.

"You know it," Chenda agrees seamlessly. It's only after he's out the door that she speaks again, much more softly. "Girl, could you be any more klutzy? Stay cool! Think you'd never talked to a good-lookin' guy before or somethin'!"

Another bottle cracks open as the fridge door paps shut behind Johnny. There's another sound of successive gluggings before another pause. "Dammit." The fridge door opens again.

Blink. Chenda looks toward the door, then rises from her chair and steps over to the opening, her sock-clad feet near-noiseless on the carpet. She peeks into the kitchen around the doorjamb.

What Chenda sees is two empty water bottles on the counter and Johnny pulling out a couple more bottles. As the fridge closes once more, he turns around, chucking the two empties into a nearby recycling bin before turning towards the doorway.

Chenda ducks back from the doorway when she sees Johnny start to turn around. She bumps a lamp, but quickly and quietly catches it and sets it back up. No time to get back to her chair. She quickly looks around the doorway. "Johnny? Are you okay?" At least she doesn't have to fake the curiosity or concern.

"Yeah," Johnny replies, moving to the doorway, looking down towards Chenda as he carries out a couple more water bottles, "Just a little thirsty." His stomach starts growling, "And hungry." He amends, walking towards the Living room area, "You said the S'more stuff was still out?"

"Right over there," Chenda replies, nodding towards the coffee table, where graham crackers wait in their box, next to a ziplock bag of baking chocolate squares, carefully broken apart, and a bag of large marshmallows.

"You, are a lifesaver." Johnny comments, before belining over to the table. There may be an exaggeration to the comment but as Johnny opens up the pack and starts lining up graham cracker after graham cracker on the paper towel, it seems less like one and more a demonstration of Johnny's skewed sense of life or death situations.

"That's me, Saver of Lives, Destroyer of Kitchen Supplies," Chenda quips, kneeling beside the coffee table to watch. "Assembly-line s'mores?"

"Uh-huh." Johnny replies, grabbing the chocolate now to repeat the action, "Got to make sure there's s'more when I want s'more s'mores."

"Never hurts to make sure there's enough sugary goodness to go 'round," Chenda agrees. She picks up the bag of 'mallows and plucks one out, giving Johnny a questioning look and holding the gelatin-sugar treat up demonstratively.

Johnny pauses, glancing towards Chenda for a few moments before he gets another towel ready and starts setting up crackers there as well. "Better make enough for two."

"Just a couple? Gotta keep my girlish figure," Chenda replies, but there's no missing the warmth that springs into her eyes at the thoughtfulness of Johnny's words. As he finishes setting up grahams and chocolate, she begins setting marshmallows on top of them, one each, with creditable quickness and precision.

Despite her saying just a couple, Johnny ends up putting down more than a couple. With the setup done there's well over two dozen waiting for a bit of heat. He leans forward, holding his hands to either side of the s'mores. "And now, we add a bit of heat." Altough there aren't any flames popping out, there's definitely some heat being brought out by the hands as the marshmallows start puffing up.

"Your specialty, Hot Stuff?" Chenda quips, and scoots back just a little. She's no cook, and would rather not be in the way. This way seems to be working well, flames or no flames.

"Oh yeah," Johnny replies, bringing his hands back when he's done heating them, "Okay, cracker me up."

"Roger, Base. Commencing Operation Cracker Cover-Up," Chenda replies, her voice steady and dull in imitation of any test pilot in history as she scoops up a stack of grahams and begins placing them on top of the 'mallows. Dull voice or not, the gypsy girl's eyes are bright and interested. This is fun.

Johnny glances over to Chenda momentarily as she starts her narrative before he turns back to watching the smores, "Base to Cracker Topper," He replies, working on his own radio transmission imitation, "waiting for confirmation before we go into S'more Smashup."

"Roger, Base," Chenda replies, placing the last graham to perfection. "Operation Cracker Cover-Up is complete. Standing by for further orders." She leans back, unzipping her sweatjacket. It really is getting a litle warm in here.

"Roger, Cracker Topper. Proceed with S'more Smashup in T-minus 6…5…4…" Johnny shifts his fingers over to rest upon the crackers nearest him, not pressing down but in waiting as he continues the countdown, "3…2…1"

"Proceeding!" Chenda says, this time in her normal voice, as she puts her fingers on top of a couple crackers and begins mashing them down into proper s'mores.

The smashup proceeds without a hitch as marshmallow and chocolate oozes from the sandwiches. When the first row is complete, Johnny pauses, waiting til Chenda finishes before scooping up one of the S'mores, "Now for the cleanup."

Chenda's quick to finish. The cleanup, after all, is always the best part. "Roger, Base. Mission Accomplished," she replies, and blows lightly on one of the s'mores to cool it off a bit before she picks it up, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. She grins and winks at Johnny. "You can really cook, Base."

Johnny takes a bit longer, "MMmpph mmmph mmph mpph." I'm sure it was witty. Whatever he just said. His eyes drift over towards the TV. Yaaaaay. TV.

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