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| Chapter 7 �Got the cart. Here�s the list,� Pacey says as he hands the list to me. �Wow! And he even writes lists.� I say, feigning shock. �Like I said before, marriage changes a man.� He says as we head down the bread aisle. �Let�s see what do we need.� I say as I look down at the list. �And it�s legible too!� �Just shut up and read off what we need.� �How can I read off what we need if I have to shut up?� I ask innocently. �Well, you seem to be doing fine just there, and besides, since when have you listened to me?� I look at him for a moment and try to recall a time when I listened to him. �I�point.� I admit that he�s right and he gets that cocky grin of his on his face. �So Potter, what do we need?� �You wrote the list didn�t you?� He nods his head in agreement. �So then you should know what�s on the list right?� �Smart ass.� I stick my tongue out at him. �We need bread.� I notice that since we turned down this aisle, we haven�t moved too far down it. �And since we�re in the bread aisle we should probably get it now.� I say as I go to look for the cheapest loaf. �Always the bright one, aren�t ya Potter?� I smile as I grab the 99 cent loaf. �I seem to recall you saying something about that earlier.� I drop the bread in the basket. I grab the list and start walking forward. I turn back once I realize he�s not following. �Well don�t just stand there. We need some milk.� I wink at him and he shortly catches up with me. ***************************************************************************************************************************************************** �Out!� �What!? Why!? I didn�t do anything.� Pacey flinches back as a towel comes in contact with his leg. �Get out of the kitchen Pacey. Now!� I swat the towel at him again, trying to get him out, but he�s being stubborn. �Get out of my kitchen. I�ll call you when dinner�s ready.� I turn back to my sauce, putting down the towel and grabbing a spoon. �As I recall this is my kitchen.� He says snidely. I turn around and walk over to him, sticking the spoon in his face. There�s sauce dripping down the handle, practically matching my skin. �You�re right, this IS your kitchen, but right now it�s MINE since I�m cooking.� �Well, you won�t let me help.� �I don�t want to have another incident like this morning. Whip cream is one thing, but sauce�it stains!� �Poor little Josephine, afraid of a little sauce.� He bats his eye lashes and I hit him on the head with the spoon, not caring about the sauce now imbedded in his hair. I smile as he touches his head. �Out of the kitchen Pace, or this spoon is going down to unwanted places.� �That. Was highly uncalled for.� �So leave.� �Hey, uh-� �Leave!� �But you-� �Out!� �Jo-� �No-� He muffles my screams as he clasps his hand over my mouth. He grabs me, turning me around. �Look Jo. Your sauce.� He releases me and I hasten to my sauce, turning down the heat and stirring it quickly, hoping it didn�t burn to badly. �Damn you Pacey. You almost ruined dinner.� I say it quietly, as if I�m a little child. I don�t look up at him, I�m a little shaken up about when he grabbed me. Bad, bad memories. �You were the wanted me out.� He walks over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders, rubbing up and down my arms. I flinch at the unexpected move. �Yeah, well you wouldn�t leave.� �If I�m a good boy, can I help?� He whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my ear. �Only if you promise not to play with the food.� I smile a little. �Well I can�t promise you that I won�t, but I can try.� I smile brighter. �Sure Pace. Go get the pasta.� ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* �Well, I for one, am full.� He leans back in his chair and scratches his stomach. �I�m surprised too, who knew you could cook.� �Thanks Pace.� I throw my napkin at him, hitting him square in the face. �You always know how to make someone feel better.� �What happened to the �no playing with food� rule?� �That wasn�t food. It was a napkin.� |