WHO: Derek Dobbs and Dorcas Meadowes
WHAT: AHKDSHGS and equal parts :] and ;[
WHERE: Their flat!
WHEN: Backdated to roughly around December 8th, 1979


"I knew I should have gone shopping," Dorcas murmured, peering into her refrigerator. "I've basically got nothing in me fridge!" Well. That wasn't entirely true. She had some meat that she had defrosted earlier, and some vegetables, but that was about it!

Who's ridiculous idea was to cook for her boyfriend, the Muggle way? Oh, that would be Dorcas Meadowes. Sometimes she said things she didn't mean - only if she thought that the other person would not take it seriously. It all rather backfired tremendously this time. Dorcas scowled. She told Derek to stay out of the kitchen till six. It was now four thirty, which gave her approximately one and a half hours to whip up something wonderful and homemade. Dorcas was not the cooking type. The most she did was whip something up with her wand, but... in terms of actual cooking? Ziltch. Still! She could not cave into Derek and admit that he was calling her bluff. No way! Her pride did not allow it.

And besides, how hard could cooking be? She had observed Derek and her father many times. Put some stuff in a pot and stir it about. It couldn't be that hard... could it?

She leaned against the counter and reached for a blue apron print with tiny blue flowers. That would be step number one. And step number two would be...? She had already placed the chicken in the oven... so she guessed that she should make some gravy. Dorcas narrowed her eyes at the various ingredients and foodstuffs she had lined on the counter. At the same time, in the midst of contemplating a great escape in which she would quickly order from a nearby deli, the kitchen door banged open.

"Oi! I remember telling you to stay out of me kitchen!"

His day had been really, really terrible.

There was no use beating around the bush-- Derek Dobbs was cranky, tired, sore from extraneous work-related physical activity, and, in light of recent events, was more than likely to strangle someone if it made him upset.

So when he came back from playing around with his Kneazle, he was greeted with a curious smell coming from the kitchen. Being a man (that too, a man of rather large stature), a curious smell did not necessarily mean a bad smell. The fact that it was Dorcas, whom he had never seen prepare a meal in his life, and that he had conveniently snatched her wand to keep with him (both for safe-keeping, in case something urgent happened, and so Dorcas would be sure not to cheat) simply made it more curious, and he found that he could not keep himself out of the kitchen for another hour and a half. Which meant that Derek hoped he could content himself by simply watching Dorcas make food. And pretend that he had something to eat.

And perhaps even steal some food when Dorcas wasn't looking.

Pushing open the door, he dodged out of the way in case Dorcas got it in her head to throw something at him (whether it was a nervous reaction to having to deal with a homemade meal or her desire to murder him, he didn't know) and tried to discern whether or not there were things being made.

"Dorcas, I'm hungry," he tried to say in as manly and non-whining of a voice as he could manage.

Dorcas gave him her best scowl as she stood at the stove (which took her a good ten minutes to figure out how to turn on), although the frightening effect that she had hoped to give off was a bit ruined by the apron she wore, and thus, it wound up that she looked more cute than anything. She had begun to make gravy for the chicken, and although the thing she was stirring furiously had a curiously thick consistency of both glue and dough... She slammed a lid over it just as Derek emerged into the kitchen.

"No tasties, you'll ruin your appetite" she said sternly, walking up to him. "Now, out! Get out!" She placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him out.

"I'll call you when dinner is ready - which will be good, really good!" she added hastily (and lamely).

He threw an arm out when she pushed him near the door and resisted, looking at Dorcas beseechingly.

"But I want to be in here," he protested, trying extremely hard not to grin. "So I can watch you make magic--strictly metaphorically speaking," Derek bit his lip in order to stop the smirk from forming, but had a sneaking suspicion that he failed miserably.

The ends of Dorcas's mouth twitched despite of the firm, stern glare that she was shooting towards Derek's way. She forcefully (yet lovingly) forced Derek's arms down and marched him towards the living room, slapping his behind playfully before calling over her shoulder "I hope you're not picky!" No, really, she hoped that he wasn't... And she was almost ninety eight percent sure that he wasn't.

One hour later had Dorcas presenting dinner. There had been some audible cursing coming from the kitchen, a bit of smoke, a bit screaming, but other than that, nothing from one's usual kitchen fare. She took off her apron, and sat down. "You can serve yourself," she said, anxiously awaiting for any reaction when Derek took his first bite.

...It was lucky that she made extra gravy to hide the burnt bits of the chicken.

While he took food from the displayed platters before him, she fidgeted. "It's a special from Derry," she said hurriedly. "Old family recipe." Certainly not a creation that she had made up on the spot, which she suspected that Derek suspected.

Derek registered that some of the texture was probably not what it should have been, but he had something of a cast iron stomach, and when his hunger was as dramatic as it had been just then (which was, to be honest, nearly every day of his life), it didn't matter much what it tasted like as long as it filled him up. He took a bite with a faux-thoughtful expression on his face, noting the interesting flavors the dish was comprised of.

"Marvelous," he said, sounding slightly strained, "I don't think I've ever had a dish that's quite so--" slight splutter "--flavorful." Which simply meant that he had to turn off the tastebuds. Which was good, because that didn't detract from his thinking, which was what he had to do right now, since he had other things on his mind; things that were going to be expressed in a short while... scary things, life-altering things... thing-things. Thing.

To say he was nervous wasn't exactly the truth, because Derek had a fairly good idea of what Dorcas was going to say... he just had to say something about it first.

"Dorcas, my sweet," he said, pausing after swallowing the first bite and clearing his throat, carefully spearing another mouthful, "where did you learn to cook?"

"Whare did I learn to cook?" Dorcas blinked. Repeating questions was a tactic that she often used in school, when professors lobbed her hard-ball questions. "I used my powers of observation." Under the sweet yet amused gaze of Derek, Dorcas hastily leaned forword to sample some of her creation. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked, Derek ate some after all -

WOW. Dorcas had to force her gag reflexes not to spit out what was in her mouth. She swallowed, grabbed a glass of water, and yelped out, "DIS-COSTIN'!"

Dorcas never pouted, ever. But the expression on her face as she glanced back to Derek greatly resembled one.

"It's all right, Dorcas," Derek said, getting up out of his chair and leaning down to plant a kiss on her still-pouting cheek. "I love you whether or not you can cook the Muggle way. Most of the time."

He danced out of reach of her swatting hand and dropped a tiny box in her lap, grabbing his plate and heading to the sink with the intention of washing it down the drain, but couldn't stop himself from eating about half of it on the way.

Her lower lip jutted out and she glanced down at the box on her lap. Being the tomboy that she was, she initially didn't think anything of it. Bemusedly she opened it - her thoughts on Derek and how she would swat hard as soon as she got up - but those thoughts flew out of her mind immediately when she saw a ring with a sparkling diamond on it. Although she didn't know much about jewelry, she knew that the engagement ring she was holding was absolutely breathtaking.

Derek Dobbs wanted to marry her, Dorcas Meadowes. He wanted to marry her! Dorcas shot out of her seat, a huge, ridiculous, happy grin across her face, clutching the box. But...

HEY!

"DEREK DOBBS, YOU COME BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" she shouted, the volume of her voice turned up several notches due to her simultaneous feelings of great joy and irritation. She crossed the distance between the dining room and the kitchen in a few short strides, banging open the door.

Having dried his hands on the front of his trousers (well, he was a male. What else can you expect?), he made his way to where his bewildered fiancée--fiancée?-- was banging on the door. Opening it to peek his head out, Derek gave her a disbelieving look.

"Oh, come on now, Dorcas, I am not bloody getting down on one knee."

Truth be told, he was rather relieved to see her getting so excited, because he had sort of been picturing her smacking the back of his head and asking him what had taken him so long.

Not that he was complaining, of course, but Derek would have been lying if he said he hadn't been preparing for that.

"OH yes you are!" The smacking on the back of the head - not to mention other body parts - will commence later.

To be honest, marriage had not really been on Dorcas's mind. Well, okay, it had, but it definitely was not the number one on her priority list. Although she had been in very few relationships before Derek, she just knew that Derek was - for lack of a less-cliche-sounding word - the one. She honestly could see being with him for a long time, in the long run. They were definitely not a sappy couple - thank God, otherwise she would throw up - so those three words and eight letters were said only a few times, but she much preferred it, rather than couples who frequently parroted the phrase. That way, it was not overused and she knew that whenever they said it to each other, the feeling was genuine and real.

G'awwww.

She held out the box for him to take, and held out her left hand expectantly. The frown she was struggling to wear was not successful, due to yet another smile she was biting back.

He gave her a disparaging look. "I think you know well enough what I'm working towards," he hinted. "It involves a large function, the joining of families, maybe a bit of spending the rest of our lives together…"

However, fearing in a fit of anger that she'd actually charge through the door and tackle him, Derek opened the ring box fully and sighed, wrapping his arms around her.

"Dorcas, will you marry me?"

Dorcas placed the ring and the box in Derek's hand, looking up at him expectantly. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, placed her hands on his shoulders... and forced him down on his knees.

"Why Derek!" she said, both smiling and suppressing a chuckle. "I do!"

Yeah, he hadn't thought he was going to get off so easily.

Derek slid the ring onto her finger and held it up, pretending to admire it deeply. Sneaking a devilish glance upward, he tossed the box beside him, swept Dorcas off her feet and winked at her. "I do believe dinner can wait, Mrs Dorcas Dobbs, as there are a few other, more pressing activities that should be taking place now…"