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Too Many Cooks (Make Out All Over The Kitchen)

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Apparently, Lauren does not do well with downtime. She's been at Bo's for two days and already she's cleaned the kitchen and the living room, and now she's offering to make dinner. Bo doesn't know what to say, except, "You really don't have to."

Lauren smiles patiently, like she saw this conversation coming, and keeps looking through the fridge. "Bo, you're letting me stay at your house, and you're keeping me hidden even though I'm a fugitive. The least I can do is make dinner."

Bo sighs. "I know, but -" She stops, not sure how to explain. "I don't want you to feel like you need to do anything, in exchange for staying. You're welcome here, as long as you need."

"Thank you," Lauren says. Her voice is soft, and she's looking at Bo like she's thanking her for a lot more than just a couch to crash on. Bo feels desire flare inside her, like it does every time Lauren's this near. Instinctively, she starts to lean forward.

But Lauren's already reaching for the chef's knife, quirking her eyebrows like she means business. Bo remembers herself. "Well," she says. "The least I can do is keep you company."

She sits on the opposite side of the counter, leaning forward to watch as Lauren chops vegetables. Lauren glances at Bo every so often, smiling, but for the most part she focuses on the task at hand, and Bo watches. Just once, as her eyes flick up from the cutting board to meet Bo's, her gaze settles briefly on Bo's chest. It's not the first time Bo's caught her looking, since she arrived, but every time is a quiet thrill. She really likes being looked at by Lauren.

Lauren finishes chopping and turns away from Bo to the stove, starting to heat the frying pan. Bo looks - okay, stares - at Lauren's back for a moment, letting her gaze linger on her shoulders, bare outside the straps of her tank top, and the curve of her ass. Lauren's wearing jeans, and they fit really, really well. Bo swallows, mouth suddenly dry. "Do you want a drink?" she asks. "There's wine."

She moves to the cupboard, the one where they keep the glasses and the alcohol. From over her shoulder, she hears Lauren laugh. "There's always wine."

Bo sets two glasses on the counter, one for each of them. Based on the last couple of nights, she's pretty sure that means yes. "Hey," she says. "I'll have you know, wine is a very important food group."

"I think science is still out on that one," Lauren teases, gently. "Just a little for me."

Bo pours, then crosses the kitchen to offer Lauren her glass. She leans hip-first against the counter next to the stove, holding her drink in one hand, Lauren's in the other. Lauren turns away from the heating pan to look at her - all of her, from the legs up - then takes a long sip of wine.

Bo smiles. "It smells good," she says, nodding at the pan. Lauren's started the garlic, sizzling away in warm oil, making the kitchen smell like dinner the way Bo remembers it from her childhood.

"Thanks," Lauren says. It's hard to tell in the dim light, but Bo's pretty sure she blushes. "You know, interestingly, it's also bacteriostatic."

Bo blinks. She doesn't have any idea what that means, but she's sure Lauren does. She can feel herself grin, as she edges closer to Lauren. There's something about her when she gets like this, all eager and completely, hopelessly dorky, that makes Bo want to make her come undone. "What is?" she asks. "Dinner?"

Lauren shakes her head, smiling. "No - well, sort of. The garlic. I mean, current studies aren't as convincing, but there's some evidence to suggest an effect against gram positive and negative bacteria," she says. She's gesturing with her free hand and the spatula, frowning in concentration, and - god, Bo hardly knows what to do. "Also, it was used therapeutically during the First and Second World Wars as a disinfectant."

Bo can't help herself. She leans over and presses a kiss to the corner of Lauren's mouth, as chastely as she can manage.

When Bo pulls away, Lauren is wide-eyed, lips parted in a gentle o. "What was that for?" she murmurs, pleased but a little dazed.

Bo looks down, trying to think of something to say besides, every time you talk it fills me with uncontrollable succubus lust. She finally settles on, "You're cute when you talk about science."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Bo says. "I mean, I don't understand half of what you're saying, but -"

Lauren cuts her off with another kiss, less chaste. Bo hears the clatter of the spatula falling against the counter, and then Lauren's cupping her jaw, pulling her close with an urgency that makes Bo groan.

The garlic burns. By the time either of them notice, dinner doesn't seem that important.