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Luke's, Monday

Eliot had woken up this morning on the floor of his living room, his entire linen closet and most of his couch piled on top of him from where it'd collapsed overnight, still tired and achy from repeatedly falling off the roof of Luke's.

He'd forgotten what a reckless kid he'd been. Also how carefree and light he'd been.

He ducked out quick, leaving a note for Hardison and Parker -- who he was reasonably certain were still under the pile of pillows and blankets -- and headed for the diner. He was back to being faintly pissed at Hardison, though the reasons why felt a bit sillier, and nothing beat cooking for working out frustrations and aching nostalgia.

Besides, he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one regretting living off things like poptarts and pizza bagels all weekend.

Today's specials
Garlic crusted rack of lamb
Roasted corn, wild mushroom, and spinach risotto
Baba au Rhum

Luke's was open.

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It may be a little slow; some of the servers are still cleaning crayon off the walls of the break room.

Though he might be a little hard to drag out of the kitchen, today.

"I have the most adorable pix of you," Kenzi said, sashaying in behind the counter. "They're awesome. Especially the one of you and all the ice cream."

Eliot squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed a groan. "How much to destroy all evidence?" he asked.

Well, maybe not all the evidence. He wouldn't mind a copy of a shot of him and Parker as kids, at least.

"Oh, man. I don't know. Some of these are Getty-Image cute. Look at this!" Kenzi held up her phone to show a wee Eliot grinning at a tiny skeptical-looking Parker. "Hallmark called, it wants your moments."

"I can fire you, you know." Not that he would. Not unless they found out she was actually selling their images on the internet as stock photos without sharing in the profits.

"But if you do, then I'll have no choice but to sell these or enter them into a photo contest," Kenzi pointed out. "Hmmm. I'm thinking something very Russian and very good for American Fake Thanksgiving on Thursday. Or possibly, knife lessons."

"Right, because you'd clearly have no other resources." Eliot rolled his eyes. "Knife lessons ain't a one time deal. I been training Kathy with 'em for months and she ain't done yet. And I'm not cookin' Thanksgiving dinner for one person."

Kenzi hmmmmed and then said, "So, make me an offer." She might have heard wee Eliot use that phrase at some point during the weekend. "How badly do you want these back?"

Eliot raised an eyebrow at her. "You know I could just have Hardison wipe 'em from you phone, right?"

Probably. That seemed like something Hardison could do.

"You're assuming I don't already have copies stashed somewhere." Which she did. "And I know Parker could maybe get 'em back, but really, let's not bring crime into this negotiation as yet. I have something, you want it, I think a fair price can be reached, don't you?"

Well, aside from the sheer fun of giving him crap about it, which had already paid off.

I was going to try to buy rolls before work this morning, but instead I slept in by half an hour to have an anxiety dream about not being able to access my google spreadsheets on my iphone.

The future is weird.

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Luke's, Monday

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Talk to Eliot

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OOC