FicWad

I woke to the sound of Ryan wandering around the little kitchenette whistling.

"Ryan, shush!" I moaned loudly, aiming and throwing a pillow at him.

He grinned sheepishly and continued to make whatever it was he was making.

I rubbed my eyes to clear the blur of sleep that was obscuring my vision then I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Hey Ry, what's the time?" I called out to Ryan, who it seemed had been preparing flapjacks.

"Dude, you're the one with the watch." He said.

"Oh, right." I replied stupidly, and dropped from my elbows and back onto the fold out mattress that I had slept on.

I held up my wrist so I could see the dial of my watch and groaned when I realized the time.

"Ryan, why the fuck are you up at five thirty in the morning making breakfast?"

He shrugged and continued banging the kitchen utensils around. I hoped that noise was actually going to amount to some sort of meal because despite the time, I was starving now. I got out of bed and pulled a tee shirt over my head then I went to join Ryan in the kitchen.

"Need help?" I asked groggily. I was still half asleep, but awake enough to offer my assistance to Ryan and think that I was coordinated enough to be able to help.

Ryan had just finished flipping the first flapjack and he tipped it out onto a plate. It seemed he was pretty handy with a fry pan because he demonstrated this by flipping the next flapjack with pure ease.

Then Ryan suggested that I try, "Here, grab the pan." He said passing it to me. He still kept his hands on the handle to keep it steady. "And flip." he said, aiding me with the movement.

What looked to be a good flip turned out to be a rather odd looking hat for Ryan. The startled look on Ryan's face was priceless and caused a burst of laughter to erupt from my lips.

"I'm assuming that didn't work too well." He said, taking the flapjack off his head. His hair was smeared in half-cooked batter.

"Maybe I meant to do that." I said, still laughing.

"You might've, but I didn't." Ryan shot back, pointing out that he still had part control of the fry pan. "Try again?" he asked, grinning.

"If you want to." I grinned back at him.

"Oh, I want to." He said, readying another flapjack.

We both grasped the handle of the pan and Ryan counted down, "3... 2... 1... Flip"

This time I was the one coated in flapjack batter. "Ryan!" I laughed, taking what should have been breakfast off my head.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I didn't do anything." He said holding out the palms of his hands.

"Oh, really?" I said, narrowing my eyes and putting my hands on my hips, pretending to be angry. I had something in store for Ryan. Without warning I lunged at him and pinned him to the cold linoleum floor.

"Hey!" He protested, he was still laughing. I started to tickle him. My fingers curled their way along his sides and soon his laughter had grown louder and tears were rolling down his flour-caked cheeks.

"Alright! All right! Mercy." He cried, still laughing hysterically.

"Guys!" Spencer yelled trying to get our attention.

We sat up abruptly. Our expressions looked reminiscent of deer caught in headlights. Spencer was looking at us oddly and Jon was at his shoulder giving us an equally odd look. We must've been a sight, crazy, hysterical people covered in breakfast. That probably warranted an odd look or two.

"Are any of those flapjacks actually edible?" Jon asked.

"You're game enough to try one?" Spencer looked at Jon incredulously.

"Breakfast is breakfast." Jon shrugged taking a flapjack from the plate on the counter.

He shoved it in his mouth and pulled a face. "Tastes like Ryan's hair."

This caused Ryan and I to erupt in giggles all over again.


[A/N] Just a bit of fluff from me on a Saturday night. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to R&R.