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[reproached]

@john.murphy | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[jettisons]

Positivity? How much did you drink?

[But he'll take the bottle and drink, too.]

[reproached]

Have you tried anything I made yet? Because if you did, you'd understand.

[jettisons]

Is that an offer?

[reproached]

Are you hungry?

[jettisons]

Sure.

[He actually didn't eat at all during his shift, but. Details.]

[reproached]

Alright.

[ Murphy picks himself up off the bed, beckoning for Bellamy to follow. ]

Let's feed you.

[jettisons]

[And Bellamy does follow, faintly amused.]

Where'd you learn how to cook?

[reproached]

[ Now that he's walking, Murphy's drunken wobble becomes slightly more obvious. But he's fine. He's perky - at least, as perky as Murphy ever gets - because he's only good at three (3) things and cooking is one of them. ]

When you're locked in a bunker by yourself for three months, you learn to get creative with MREs.

[ Time to peek in the fridge and see what their options are. ]

Even better with fresh food.

[jettisons]

[Instinctively, Bellamy reaches out to steady Murphy when he leans a bit too much to one side. Is this a good idea? Maybe not, but it'll be fun to watch.]

I've eaten enough of that crap to last a few lifetimes.

[reproached]

[ Murphy turns a crooked grin to Bellamy and swoons on purpose now, jostling him playfully. ]

What're you in the mood for?

[jettisons]

Surprise me.

[Bellamy smirks, swatting his hand away.]

If you fall on your ass, I'm not helping you up.

[reproached]

You ungrateful asshole.

[ He means that in the most loving way. Returning his attention to the fridge, Murphy digs through the contents of it that aren't leftovers until he has a reasonable number of ingredients. Time to slap something together! ]

[jettisons]

Maybe I'll change my mind once I try your food.

[Bribe him, Murphy.]

[reproached]

[ Maybe he will. ]

Gonna stand there and watch?

[ Not that Murphy needs much help. There isn't a whole lot of variety when it comes to ingredients. He can manage a stirfry of fridge scraps all on his own. ]

[jettisons]

Yep. Doesn't count if I help.

[Because he's such an expert on cooking.]

[reproached]

Yeah, you'd ruin it.

[ It's a flurry of movement, Murphy darting from the cabinets to the stove to the fridge, rescuing neglected produce and mixing up sauces that appear to have only been used once or twice since they were bought. About ten minutes later, he's spooning out a portion of vegetable stirfry for Bellamy and another for himself. Incredibly, he doesn't fumble once. Either he could do this in his sleep or he's accustomed to cooking while absolutely wasted. ]

Here.

[ He thrusts one bowl at Bellamy's chest. Eat, eat, eat. ]

[jettisons]

[Bellamy rolls his eyes at the jab, but... Honestly, he's really impressed watching Murphy. He clearly knows what he's doing, and he's confident about it in a way Bellamy's not used to seeing from him.

He takes the offered (or shoved) plate, eyeing it for a moment before picking up the fork. After a dramatic little pause, he takes a bite.

It's... delicious. He was expecting good, sure, but not this good, and his delight is clear in the way his eyes widen and his brows go up. Prize for Murphy.]

[reproached]

[ Oh, yes, Murphy's watching for that reaction. And when he gets it, he takes a little bow with flourish. ]

[jettisons]

[He tries to keep from smiling and fails utterly.]

Spare time in a bunker, huh?

[reproached]

More fun than shooting myself.

[ Murphy saunters over to pick up his own bowl and sample it. Not bad, not bad. He should try actually shopping for ingredients sometime. ]

[jettisons]

[Way to kill the mood, Murphy.]

I'm glad you went with this option.

[reproached]

[ What do you mean! Murphy's still in a good mood. ]

Tastes better.

[jettisons]

No wonder Clarke wanted you in the kitchen.

[He smirks.]

I bet you cause less trouble in there.

[reproached]

Is that a challenge? I can try harder.

[jettisons]

[He lets out a little scoff.]

Does that mean you haven't been trying your hardest, or you haven't been trying at all?