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"Fuck you, I know how to cook."
"Knowing how to make every combination of protein smoothie isn't cooking, Jake."
"Do you want to be the pot or the kettle, Mr 'I Set Off the Fire Alarm Making Ramen'?"
Maverick looks at Slider who raises his eyebrow. "Your kids, your problem," Slider snorts and picks up his coffee from the counter, thanking the barista.
"They're not my kids," Mav sighs. "They're actual grown adults-"
"Dry chicken and rice isn't food, it's a cry for help."
"What can you make, Nat?"
"Are you assuming I can cook because I'm female?"
"No, dumbass, if you're giving us shit, you had better be able to cook."
"I can make more than dry chicken and rice."
Mav is mildly afraid to turn around. Slider is already watching the shitshow, grinning against his coffee cup. Maverick picks up his coffee from the counter, sighs, and moves towards the door. He nudges Slider to move, too, since they're blocking the counter for other customers. Next time, he thinks, he'll get coffee further from base. Running into Slider is always a nice surprise. Running into the Daggers… well, it depends on the day of the week.
Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob are sprawled around a table near one of the windows, in civilian clothes like Mav and Slider, and clearly have been here a while, if the detritus of pastries and coffee dregs are anything to go by. Mav thinks he's going to make it past them without incident, but then Rooster says, "C'mon, even Mav can cook more than that."
"Do not drag me into this," Maverick tells them reflexively.
Slider snorts when all four aviators turn to Maverick, noticing him for the first time. "Nice going, dumbass," Slider says, sotto voce.
Maverick flaps a hand at him to shut up, he knows he fucked up, and looks at the four. Hangman sprawls even further back in his seat, smiling. "Well, Pops?" he challenges. "What can you cook?"
"Why does everyone assume I don't know how to function as an actual adult?" Maverick asks Slider.
"Because you wouldn't be able to cook if Tom hadn't taught you on the weekends."
"Fuck you; I could cook before I met Ice."
"You could make grilled cheese. And it wasn't even good grilled cheese." Slider looks back at the group. "What even brought this up?"
Shifting in seats, eyes flicking to the side. Bob, having managed so far to remain unscathed in the conversation, as far as Maverick can tell, finally answers, "Fanboy and Payback are having a potluck next weekend and banned all of us from bringing booze or paper plates or utensils."
"Are they angling for food poisoning?"
"Hey," all four Daggers say, wounded.
"I'm making focaccia," Bob offers.
Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all turn to look at the WSO. "You're making fancy bread," Hangman says.
"It's not really that fancy or hard, I mean-"
"How the hell are we supposed to top fancy bread?"
"It's not a competition," Rooster sighs at him.
Hangman knocks his knee against Rooster's. "Says the loser."
"You take that back."
"Pass."
"Boys," Phoenix says with the barest hint of warning in her tone. She looks at Maverick. "Payback is making lasagna, Fanboy is making devil's food cake from scratch, Halo is making angel food cake because she thinks she's funny-"
"She is," Slider, Hangman, and Rooster all say.
Phoenix ignores them and goes on, "Fritz and Omaha are on salad duty, and the Ivies are lucky because they're out right now. Got any suggestions?"
"Bacon-wrapped anything," Slider replies. "Dates, asparagus, cheese-stuffed jalapenos… there's plenty of options."
"Tiramisu," Maverick offers and Slider looks at him, askance.
"Why are you suggesting things you don't know how to make?"
Maverick drinks his coffee even if it feels like his throat's gone tight. Rooster is the one to speak up, "Hey, didn't Mom teach you to make that for Ice's birthday that one year? There was batter on the ceiling."
"She did," Maverick says and clasps Rooster's shoulder. "He was turning thirty and Sarah was and still is terrible at baking, so she made the dinner and I was put in charge of dessert." He huffs out a laugh. "There were at least five separate attempts, I set off the fire alarm, and you, Rooster, had just gotten told by someone at school that raw egg was totally edible. I had to make the last attempt by myself because you were projectile vomiting, probably more from the taste than anything else."
"We could've skipped that part of the story," Rooster informs him.
Hangman knocks his knee against Rooster's again. "No, that was the best and most crucial part of the story."
Rooster grabs Hangman's knee to keep him from bumping them together again. The bell over the cafe door jingles. "How long does it take to get coffee?" Cyclone asks, faintly exasperated.
The Daggers and Slider look at Cyclone.
Cyclone looks back.
Maverick opens his mouth.
"I don't want to know," Cyclone says. "Whatever it is, it's Ron's problem now."
He starts to leave, but turns around, takes Slider's coffee, and walks back out again. Slider looks entirely too pleased. "That there is the love of my life," Slider says to no one in particular and, clapping Maverick on the shoulder, follows his husband out, He calls over his shoulder, "Also, casseroles are really easy, kids."
Maverick points towards the door in a clear 'I am leaving, do not follow me.' "Don't burn down base housing."
As he walks off, he turns and adds, "Remember, Omaha is vegetarian, so don't make everything have meat in it."
"Yes, Dad," Phoenix and Bob say.
"Got it, Pops," Hangman answers with a two-fingered wave.
"Can you help me make the tiramisu?" Rooster calls.
Maverick leaves as the discussion devolves into an argument about if getting help is cheating, and why is there even cheating at cooking for a potluck to begin with.
//