Thread: It was just one... (Bevatoria and skittish_butterfly)

Just finger food. Ugh. Elizabeth hated that stupid crooked smile Grant got at times like this, like he thought he knew something she didn't, and she had to just look away. Grant was talking about not being able to afford more and Elizabeth believed him as she scanned the already pillaged trays, just a few crumbled potato chips and unidentifiable lumps of biscuit or something. She shuddered and turned back to him, realizing it was a complete waste of her time to even have come, not even food here to justify the visit. Elizabeth's attention wandered to the door, trying to figure out that complicated equation in her head that would tell her when was the earliest socially acceptable moment for bailing out on him was. In theory it should be simple, but the complications came from the fact he was her boss, that it was his party and she had just arrived, by the fact that people were around and he might be embarrassed and unintentionally vindictive as a result. And most of all because she suspected that even though she'd gotten him to take back his request for a date that time and agree to just be friends -- not that she really wanted to be friends but it was the technique she'd learned for fending off men -- he still felt something about her. It was awkward and annoying most of the time, like little lingering glances that really made no sense especially since she never dressed in a way that would risk inviting that kind of attention from men. So she stood in awkward silence, not knowing much about sports or caring about movies or celebrities, small talk eluding her. Grant went back to the subject of the food, which was at least better than the heavy silence for however long the equation dictated she had to stay. Then he got that little look again, and she almost turned and walked away right then. He couldn't possibly know things she didn't that would justify that little twinkle and the smirk. But he mentioned cookies. A fresh batch. Ancient memory of her mom pulling out a fresh batch of cookies, her face almost a blur now in the memory. The thought made her wistful, sad but with a touch of longing. It was her mom trying, trying to be a mom at least while she still could. The cookies had been awful and the famous mom and the little girl had laughed about how such a smart scientist had trouble cooking from a recipe. Cookies. After a moment to clear her thoughts and finding she couldn't quite, Elizabeth nodded. Fine. A fresh cookie. That sounds... delicious. Probably horrible. At least the party wouldn't be a complete waste of time, and then she could leave. She thought of the look in his eyes as she followed him through the buzzing, chattering crowd. Did he have a recipe for jalapeno cookies? Or joke cookies that explode when you bite them? Something was up, and the strategic part of her brain told her the easy solution. Offer him a cookie first, let him take a first bite. That would do it. It wasn't like he could make one special joke cookie for her and guess which one she'd accept. And if she was right, the look on his face would be priceless. Now that might even make her forget her hunger.