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The loud noise of pans hitting each other rang through the house, followed closely by a woman cursing with the intensity of someone being personally offended. Cassie and Sloane shared a look. Lia had been stationed in her room for a couple of hours, planning the demise of Michael Townsend after he had pushed one too many of her buttons, which meant that only one other person could be in the kitchen. And Special Agent Veronica Sterling never ever did anything in the kitchen besides the occasional pot of coffee.
Out of part curiosity and part boredom, the girls walked gently down the stairs, as if a heavier step could have sent their guardian into hiding. Sure enough, agent Sterling stood in the middle of the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and looking as unsure of herself as they had ever seen her.
“Did you know that the average American spends 37 minutes a day cooking and cleaning up in the kitchen? That amounts to about 13505 minutes, or 225 hours, during a year.” That was Sloane for “hello, we came to check why our kitchen is being destroyed”.
It didn’t faze agent Sterling “Judd is out on a meeting so I have to keep you guys fed.” you didn’t need to be Michael to read the emotion in her words: annoyance and displeasure.
“What is this meeting about?”
“It is above your paygrade, Cassie.”
“But we don’t get payed.” You could hear the wheels turning in Sloane's head, most likely doing the math on how much the Naturals would get paid “Do you want our help? I learned how to cook by myself at the age of six so I could say with ninety nine point seven percent accuracy that I am good at it.” With her mother out of it for most of her childhood, it was effortless to see why Sloane had picked up a skill like cooking at such a young age.
Agent Sterling stepped aside, giving space for Sloane to make herself comfortable in the space “Oh thank god” her shoulders relaxed and her face softened. For once, she wasn’t an agent, she was just a flawed woman in charge of handling five teenagers. She was just Veronica. “I am a terrible cook. Have always been. That is why Tanner used to do all the cooking at home.” She leaned against a counter but quickly tensed up again. She said Tanner, not Briggs. She had used home, not house. One didn’t need to be either a profiler or a human lie detector to realize the truth that had just slipped out. Veronica Sterling still considered her ex-husband her home, because home wasn’t a place. For her, home was the man who loved her unconditionally, who held her when her strength wavered, who still wanted to protect her even after she had pushed him away. It was time were she let herself be reckless, get emotionally involved in every single case she worked. It was a time when her best friend was still alive and she hadn’t been held captive by a serial killer.
Sloane was oblivious to what had just happened. Cassie was using all her strength so her face wouldn’t show that she was profiling her mentor. Veronica had turned into Agent Sterling again.
“Is the child labor that we take part in every day not enough for the FBI that we now also need to make our own meals?” Lia was back and, in true Lia fashion, had provided the distraction that the moment called for.
Agent Sterling retreated to her bedroom under the pretense of taking care of some paperwork. She hadn’t taken three steps away from the kitchen or called out for them to be careful before the girls started gossiping. At least they are being kids for once , she thought.
The last thing she heard before closing her bedroom door to beat herself up for what she had just let out was Sloane’s loud whisper of “Only six percent of divorced couples get remarried.”.
Ten minutes was enough time spent spend with kids with special abilities for one day.