A boy named Sous

As the fans' power sources were removed and they were escorted off the island, the slew of machines going *PING!* in Priestly's apartment vanished without a trace. Priestly's shirt reappeared, and his comma coma lapsed into regular sleep.

Up to and including Priestly's usual faint snuffling and mumbling, and him rolling over to snuggle deeper into his pillow.

Really, he'd always preferred sleeping on his stomach or side.

[ooc: BDE wrap up BDE wrap up, let's finish our giant plot dears. BDE wrap up BDE wrap up, 'cause now the aftermath's here! Expecting one, but open for anyone else who's up and has a reason to show up.]

The kitchen staff was arguing over who got to move into the freezer while they waited for the heatwave to end. The cook's main argument was that he was the most important member of the staff, bar Priestly, and thus by right of seniority, the freezer should be his. The dishwasher noted that the cook, used to standing over a hot stove all day, was used to heat and should be bothered by it all. The busboy's point that the dishwasher got to spend all day playing with water so he should get it didn't go over well with anyone at all.

Priestly's point that a) the freezer was more than large enough to house all of them and the army of penguins that may or may not have already taken up residence in the back with more than enough room to spare, and b) no one was allowed to move into his freezer, are you kidding? now get back to work ended the argument pretty succinctly, he thought.

Of course, then they just started bickering over the walk-in cooler instead.

Today's specials
Gazpacho
Chopped salad with feta, lime, and mint
Letting the kitchen staff dump a vat of frozen yogurt over your head

Luke's was open.

Jane finally made it back in the wee hours before dawn. Priestly had, in fact, waited up for her, gathering supplies for the next morning when he was sure he'd have yet another massive breakfast to prepare.

"Well," he said. "At least you didn't get eaten."

"Ew," Jane said. "Dads aren't supposed to talk like that."

"Uh huh."

Priestly offered her the bed, but when he settled in on the floor, she flopped down to use his stomach as a pillow. "How come you're not living with my mom and Jen?" she asked. "I thought you guys met by now."

Crap. "It's, uh. Kind of a long story." He thought back on their conversations that morning, trying to remember what she'd revealed about her version of him. ". . . Am I really a nutritionist?"

"Um, duh. Why, aren't you here?"

"Nah, I'm just a cook."

Jane tilted her head, staring up at him upside down. "That's dumb, Dad."

"Yeah," Priestly said absently. "I guess."

Nutritionist.

He kinda liked that.

[ooc: estaaaaaablishy.]

Cooking shirtless wasn't something Priestly did a whole lot -- anyone who'd ever been spot burned on the pectoral by drops of flying hot oil would understand why -- but the occasion seemed to call for it, this time.

Also, somehow despite the adventures of yesterday, he was still feeling pretty hot and twitchy, so shirtless was definitely the way to go.

"So," he said, flipping a pancake with an expert flick of the skillet -- yes, he was TOTALLY showing off, why do you ask? "How do you like your eggs?"

[ooc: For the lovely lady promised breakfast, and potentially the roommate should he wander in.]

"Jaime," Priestly said, jaw clenched. "J-A-I-M-E. Reyes." He rolled his eyes. "R-E-Y-E-S. I want to know why he's not here! He was scheduled on a portal -- yes. I don't have his universe identifier, those things are -- He was supposed to be here three hours ago. How the hell am I supposed to know if his universe has a time delay in effect? That kind of thing changes, like, monthly! -- My universe identifier is T-T-0829297. Yeah, I triple checked it. And the time, yes. -- Seriously? Okay, were you people trained by monkeys, or something? -- Sentient ones? -- Yes, it makes a difference. -- Yes it does. -- Yes it does. -- Yes is does."

Jaime had, for whatever reason, not arrived via portal on time. He wasn't answering his phone. Priestly could only assume he was stuck in a dimension full of particularly intelligent shades of blue. Not that Portalocity would ever admit to such a thing, but still. . . .

"Can I talk to someone who isn't six, please? -- No, sir, I meant mentally, I have nothing against species who mature at a different -- Yeah, okay, you put me on hold again. Great. Just think, I could be dealing with my evil kitchen staff, right now. Wouldn't that be nice?"

It was going to be a long night. At least the rest of the crew were fairly amused by Priestly's plight.

[ooc: mostly establishy, yes.]

The commitment ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Priestly and the rest of the Beach City Grill crew had now seen rather a whole lot more of Trucker and Zo than they'd ever thought they would, but the horses didn't seem to mind much, and they were now both dressed again in very nice, matching linen outfits, and Priestly was reminding himself just why he was a punk instead of a hippie.

"If I ever get married," he said to Jen as they all gathered around a bonfire not far from the waves, "I'm so not going with matching outfits."

"If you ever get married," Jen said, leaning towards him from where she was snugged up again the guy Priestly was never NOT going to think of as Fuzzy, "you're going to be the one wearing the white dress."

Priestly tilted his head. "That's probably true." He looked across the fire to where Tish was showing Julia how to play cat's-cradle and tried not to sigh.

When in doubt, draw attention to yourself. He stood up, lifting his beer bottle high. "I'd like to propose a toast!"

The group groaned cheerfully. This was fifteenth or sixteenth toast of the night.

"To good friends," Priestly continued, gesturing around at the group with his beer. "To finding the perfect partner," this to Trucker and Zo specifically, who grinned back at him like fools. "And . . . to setting things on fire!" And he flung his beer bottle into the flames and threw his hands in the air. "WOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

There was a faint possibility he was overdoing it, yes.

[ooc: for the best friend/commitment ceremony +1]

The portal had dropped Priestly off without any detours or layovers, for once, and he couldn't decide if he was pleased or disappointed. While it was definitely a good idea to get the hell out of Fandom -- now that he was pretty sure the people who needed confirmation of him not being dead had all gotten it -- that didn't mean he really quite wanted to deal with being home just yet.

He was seriously tempted to just go find some place to hide. But if Tish and the others found out that he'd come back and hadn't come immediately to find them, they'd be even more pissed than they probably already were. He was going to have to man up and face the music.

He just hadn't expected them all to still be there at this hour, that was all.

( In which there is music facing and also hugging )

[ooc: MWAHAHAHA. Establishy.]

"You know I don't mind cooking for us, right?" Priestly asked, balking a little as Tish led him towards the restaurant door by the hand. "I even really like it."

"Priestly," Tish said, stopping and turning to look at him without letting go of his hand. "You've been working double shifts all weekend to cover for Piper while she and Noah and Julia are at Disneyland. You need a break from cooking."

Priestly opened his mouth to protest again, and Tish pressed a finger to his lips. "And you look fine," she said. "There's no dress code, they're not going to kick you out for having a mohawk, and it's my turn to feed us and I don't cook so I say we get to have dinner in a fancy restaurant."

Priestly kissed the finger on his lips. "Okay. But I reserve the right to be snooty if their food isn't as good as mine."

Tish smiled. "I'm looking forward to it, even. Now come on, I want to get a table outside before they fill up." It was a gorgeous night, cool and bright under the full moon, the earlier cloudiness having mostly cleared up.

And, well, if an outdoor table would make them more visible and easier to stalk spy on observe, then so be it.

[ooc: for the sneaky shipper spies and slow-play.]

It was a slow day at the sandwich shop, which was probably for the best, since Priestly was too jazzed for Dinah coming to town for Spring Break to really concentrate on cooking anything. Instead, he was perched on the counter, doing one of his absolute favorite things: regaling Piper and Jen with his conspiracy theories.

"I'm just saying," he said. "Cobain wasn't trying to leave this world. He was just trying to leave Courtney."

Jen nodded. "I'll buy it." Priestly grinned at her. They'd for the most part made up after the whole ditching Fuzzy thing. Priestly understood, after all. He just wished he didn't have to.

Tish came in, slipping her sunglasses up on her head and not really looking at any of them, and Priestly's smile vanished.

( Cut for vaguely implied domestic violence )

And like that, by unspoken agreement, they let it pass.

For now, anyway.

[ooc: establishy, scene riffed straight from canon, as I enter into the final stretch of my catch-up!]