FicWad

Somehow I managed to get Gerard to actually help with the cooking and cleaning. Well...I use the term help very loosely. If you count 'help' as flicking suds at me and attempting to re-colour the pink gloves with black marker then, yeah, he helped an awful lot.

At least he stuck around instead of buggering off with everyone else.

Though, if he wanted food on time, he had to stop practically mauling me during every break while something came to boil.

But, a few hours (What? I had to do the meat and everything! Plus I'm a slow cook. Okay, and I had to re-do a lot after SOMEONE kept me busy too long) later...just a few, there were ten plates set out on the inside table. Mikey, Bob and Quinn were setting up a few fold-out tables outside (with fold-out seats, of course), Jeph was making sure there was a good deck of cards somewhere, Brandan was keeping Bert occupied, Gerard was watching me set out the food and Ray and Frank were talking somewhere - I have no idea where.

"Will you not watch me?" I was actually getting quite annoyed being watched.

"Why not?" Asked a bewildered Gerard. I sighed as I started to place the now carved meat onto plates.

"Because! You've been watching me for hours on end now! I'm not that interesting, honestly!" Though I couldn't see him as I placed the last pieces of meat on a plate, I knew his mouth was hanging open.

I turned and placed the wooden board carrying the meat on the counter before removing the potatoes from the heat.

"What?" I rolled my eyes, picking up the saucepan and straining the water into the sink.

"Don't you get annoyed sometimes when someone watches you constantly?" I snapped, leaning back slightly to avoid the steam pouring upwards.

"No," I snorted before uprighting the saucepan and setting it down.

"Right, I believe you," In went the butter and the milk before I picked the newly cleaned masher.

"You have reason not to?"

"Yes, actually," I called over the loud banging that is potato mashing. "When you had your hair cut. Remember? You told me to stop staring at you when I wasn't even looking at you!" Finished with the mashing, I turned back to the table, violently dealing out the mashed potato.

I was unsurprised to hear no reply.

"Well, that was different," Well, at least not a very good one, anyway.

"In what way was that different?" My voice rose a few notches. I could feel my blood boiling. It was only soothed by the chance to slam something, namely the saucepan, into the sink with a loud clatter.

"I don't know!" I grunted before turning the hob off all together, picking up another saucepan and before turning quickly, the saucepan narrowly avoiding Gerard's head. "Watch it!"

I didn't reply to anything, just dropped the vegetables onto the plates.

Once the vegetables were done, I started on the gravy.

"So," I took a calming breath. I should have taken ten. "What made that any different?" Gerard sighed.

"It wasn't, okay?"

"Good," The water in the kettle was boiling, so I set about spooning gravy granules into a plastic jug.

As you may, or may not, have guessed by now, I have remembered what I was doing that day - not the petty argument.

"Good? What does that mean?" I drummed my fingers on the counter.

"Just shut up, okay?" Silence whilst the kettle boiled and I poured the water into the jug.

"Wh-"

"Just shut up! You were stupid enough to claim you getting annoyed at being watched and me getting annoyed at being watched was different, don't carry on!" The stirring of the granules became slower as my anger seemed to suddenly disappear. I'd caught a glimpse of his both perturbed and gloomy face and felt a pang of guilt somewhere in my head.

Like an idiot I ignored it.

Heading to the tables outside, I asked for help carrying the plates out, leaving whoever went in to deal with him.

It was a an absolutely fabulous start to an absolutely fabulous night.