We Cooked This

[align=center][b]A Large, Ecru-Walled Dining Room[/b]
[color=#4682B4]It has expensive decor.[/color]
  Lit with oxide-black sconces set around the walls, this dining room is
large, joined to the ballroom by a low half-wall that enables one to look
into it.  The walls are painted a soft ecru, paneled from floor to waist in
chocolate oak and accented by the white marble flooring underfoot.  A large
table stretches across the middle of the room to provide seating, with a
sideboard nearby.  Several tall windows framed in chocolate brown reveal the
river behind the house.

It is night, about 27F(-2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.  There is a waxing crescent moon.  Ahead of you is A Private Beach on The River.

Places: a long formal dining table

       (D) a white and purple multi-flower bouquet sits on the table in a vase

[b]May[/b] is at a long formal dining table
[b]Britney[/b] is at a long formal dining table[/align]



[b]Santiago[/b] leads the way into the dining room and walks over to the table, pulling out two chairs and looking over at [b]Britney[/b] and [b]May[/b]. "Ladies, please have a seat," he offers, his Spanish coming through a little more marked, as he then adds a small bow and waits for them to sit, before he steps back and removes his coat and his jacket both.
--
[b]Roman[/b] takes off his jacket as well, pushing up his sleeves. "Sit, ladies, and we'll be back with the appetizer shortly. Do you have any drink requests?" he wonders, looking between the two.
--
[b]May[/b] smiles to [b]Santiago[/b] as he pulls out the chairs, settling herself down into one and folding her feet beneath it with a soft giggle. "Why thank you." She says to both the Spaniard and [b]Roman[/b], folding her hands into her lap. "And I think I'll just a water." The blonde admits with a grin. "I drank enough last night."
--
[b]Britney[/b] slips into one of the two chairs drawn out by [b]Santiago[/b], a grateful smile aimed up at him. "Thank you," she says, slipping out of her coat and laying it over the back of her chair. "I'll have ..." A pause, turning her gaze to [b]May[/b]. "Wait, we're not drinking?"
--
[b]May[/b] says (to [b]Britney[/b]), laughing softly, biting the edge of her lip gently, '[b]May[/b]be I'll have one later, but for now, I think water will do me just fine.'
--
"I wonder if we have he ingredients to make some sangria," [b]Santiago[/b] muses and taps his chin, glancing at [b]Roman[/b]. His eyes settle [b]Britney[/b] then as he waits for her to reveal her order.
--
[b]Roman[/b] assures [b]Britney[/b], "We have a bottle of Absolut with your name on it, not to worry." He tells [b]Santiago[/b], "I'm sure we have them, come on, we'll check." And with that, he moves to lead the other man back toward the kitchen.

[align=center][b]***[/b][/align]
[b]Santiago[/b] returns to the dining room carrying a platter in one hand, and a bottle and a goblet in the other. Very deftly so too. At [b]Britney[/b]'s teasing he smirks, "It's bruschetta, it should not be biting you back," he replies as he sets the plate in front of her and [b]May[/b]. Then the goblet is set next to [b]May[/b]. "Water for the pretty lady with the green eyes," and then, the bottle, he just gives to [b]Britney[/b]. "Here you go, vodka for our favorite beautiful lush," he says playfully. There's a beat, and he actually sets a glass in front of her too.

[b]Santiago[/b] arranges oven-grilled Italian bruschetta so it is an elegant platter of bruschetta with various toppings is set on the dining table.
--
[b]Britney[/b] nods in acceptance of [b]May[/b]'s quiet explanation, her dark orbs tearing away from the blonde to regard [b]Santiago[/b] curiously as he comes out with a platter of food. "Is it edible?" she wonders in affectionate teasing, leaning back.
--
[b]May[/b] leans back from [b]Britney[/b] and their girlish whispering, looking up to [b]Santiago[/b] with a flash of a warm smile. "It smells great!" Perhaps a bit more optimistic then the brunette. Folding her hands into her lap again she bounces a bit in her chair, a few ringlets following suit.
--
[b]Britney[/b] widens her eyes, glancing from the bottle of vodka set on the table in front of her, then back up to [b]Santiago[/b]. Her rose-painted lips peel apart, but the Spaniard gives her a glass. "Oh, you tease, [b]Santiago[/b]. I was about to ask if you really meant to make me drink out the bottle!" she laughs, looking over the platter of bruschetta approvingly. "It *looks* edible, smells delicious, and it's making me realize I haven't eaten real food Thursday."
--
"Not such a good thing." [b]May[/b] points out to [b]Britney[/b] while looking to her goblet of water. Tilting her chin up to [b]Santiago[/b] she lets her lips curl upwards again in that same ruby red smile while her fingers come up to curl around the glass. "Thank you, [b]Santiago[/b]." Squaring her shoulders she sits up a bit more, using the goblet to hide the grin that spread across her lips.
--
You hear, from the direction of the kitchen, "The oven definitely isn't suppose to do that..."
--
[b]Britney[/b] lifts a worried glance toward the direction of the kitchen, starting to rise from her seat. "Should we go in and help him?" A pause, cupping her hand to her mouth as she calls out, "Do you need help in there?"
--
[b]Santiago[/b] blinks at the words coming from the kitchen. He purses his lips, looking at the girls apologetically. "I... better get back to cooking, will return soon." He shakes his head at [b]Britney[/b], "No, no, please. Stay here."
--
"Oh man." [b]May[/b] says looking back to [b]Britney[/b] with a soft laugh, listening to the voice from the kitchen. "Let's hope he doesn't burn the kitchen down. That'd be awful."
--
The sound of fire engines can be heard rushing along Main Street.
--
[b]May[/b] sits up in her chair more as she hears the fire engines coming down main street. Her eyes widen and she looks to [b]Britney[/b] with a soft gasp. "You don't think they're coming here do you?!"
--
[b]Britney[/b] knits her brows, quickly pouring herself a glass of vodka to be nursed from generously. "Are you *sure*," she stares at [b]Santiago[/b] incredulously, turning her gaze toward the window as fire engines resound in the distance.
--
[b]Santiago[/b] blinks again. "I wonder if [b]Roman[/b] ordered some entertainment," he looks behind himself as he slowly steps back, still facing the girls. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything is under control," he assures them, his voice so deep and confident.
--
Girlish shrieks can be heard coming from the direction of the kitchen.
--
"I... will be back. Do not leave this dining room," [b]Santiago[/b] sounds firm as he says that and speeds out of the room.
--
"Was that [b]Roman[/b]," [b]Britney[/b] peers off after [b]Santiago[/b] as he rushes out of the dining room.
--
[b]Santiago[/b] says, hurrying out of the room, 'It will all be fine!'
--
"I want to go and see what's going on so badly," [b]Britney[/b] groans in lament to [b]May[/b], settling restlessly within her seat, eyes on the entrance of the dining room. "Do you think he'll be mad if we just peek around the corner? I'm peeking."
--
"He sounded pretty serious." [b]May[/b] warns her, biting her lip worriedly. Obviously she's the good sister in this relationship as she doesn't make to move from the chair. "Alright. Peek.. But just a quick one! If it's a giant fire..."
--
"Oh, come on, he won't notice," [b]Britney[/b] goads [b]May[/b], unhurried in rising out of her seat, surprisingly.
--
"Alright, alright!" [b]May[/b] says as she follows suit behind [b]Britney[/b], standing up from her chair to step behind her.
--
[b]Britney[/b] slips out of her seat, grasping hold of [b]May[/b]'s hand, her glass of vodka in the other. "Hopefully we won't miss it," she laughs, sauntering off into the house.
[align=center][b]***[/b][/align]
[b]Santiago[/b] walks in from in front of you.
--
With her hand in [b]May[/b]'s, [b]Britney[/b] attempts to stealth her way down the corridor until she reaches the corner, squealing out in surprise when [b]Santiago[/b] emerges from the kitchen before she can peak around it. "Oh, [b]Santiago[/b], there you are."
--
[b]Santiago[/b] steps out of the kitchen when he sees [b]May[/b] and [b]Britney[/b]. "Ladies! Nothing to see here, don't worry everything is under control. We're working on the searing of the meat," he notes and tries to usher them back to said dining room.
--
[b]May[/b] squeals a bit beside [b]Britney[/b] as they get caught red handed, giving her cohorts hand a squeeze. "See? I told you!" The blonde hisses gently. "They are on the look out."
--
"And stop trying to peek at our process, that's cheating, Miss Caldwell," [b]Santiago[/b] says to [b]Britney[/b], with a frown and then at [b]May[/b], he tsks. "Now, please, this way," he nudges them forward.
--
[b]May[/b] huffs softly, letting go of [b]Britney[/b]'s hand while drifting back to her seat. Dropping down into it gently she crosses her legs at the knee and leans back some against it. "So..We suck at 007 huh?" Is inquired generally.
--
[b]You hear a knocking that sounds like it's coming from the door between A Well Appointed Manor Drive and A Spacious, Marble-Paved Foyer.[/b]
--
[b]Britney[/b] narrows her eyes at [b]Santiago[/b] while his back is turned, pantomiming epic monologue in true evil fashion, chest heaving with a silent, deep-bellied evil cackle. When knocking resounds through the house from the front door, she blinks, dropping her facade to glance off toward the hallway innocently. "Can I get it?"
--
[b]Santiago[/b] hears the sound of the knock and then turns to the girls, frowning. "You do -not- leave this dinging room," he lets his eyes fall on [b]Britney[/b], a silent warning on them. "No. Now sit down," he tells her, pointing at the chair. He points, points, points. "Now."
--
Roman dashes into view.
[S] [b]Roman[/b] dashes past you to the right.
--
Roman runs into view.
[S] [b]Roman[/b] runs past you to the left.
[align=center][b]***[/b][/align]
[b]Roman[/b] arrives with [b]Santiago[/b], pushing a silver dining cart laden with covered dishes of food. "Dinner," he announces, "Is served."

[b]Roman[/b] throws a Chop House To-Go catering box away.