who| Heidi and Nathan Petrelli, [OPEN to both Claire Bennets, and other Hyperion Residents] what| As bribed to Peter, Heidi makes lasagna. where| The Hyperion Kitchen; LA when| Monday, September 1st; Afternoon. rating| TBA, but unlikely to be high. status| Thread, incomplete, and open.
When Heidi had learned that it was physically impossible for Nathan to cook something without setting, or nearly setting, fire to anything and anyone within thirty feet of the kitchen, she had signed up for italian cuisine classes at a local culinary school the next day. She had, in her youthful naivete, hoped that with Petrelli came pasta, but accepted the singed reality of her would-be husband's short(ening) coming, and decided that lessons would ultimately be less expensive than the boxes of band-aids and trips to the emergency room for burns. Nathan had more or less come to this realization on his own; with the occasional moment of delusion or determination (or both) over the years with the same, charred results. It wasn't in his personality or temperment to give up, and though Heidi could never bring herself to stop him from trying, she endeavoured to distract him by inviting him to watch.
So, there he was, and there she was; him observing from a safe distance on a stool, and her glancing up occasionally to check the numbers on the timer entrusted to him for safekeeping. They'd discussed the boys(Peter included), the girls(Sarah included), Nathan's swearing-in ceremony, and various other thises and thats before the conversation had tripped and fallen into the supernatural. "What I don't understand," She was saying as she shook a handful of flour over the wooden board she was using for a worksurface on the counter and returned the dough to it for further kneading. "Is why, if you have a coven--The word is coven, correct?--or even a loose conglomeration of vampires in one building, you wait until dark to dispatch them." She stuck the heel of her palm into the dough, and the rest of her hand followed. "Surely between Peter and the Clarks you can take off a roof and lift it--and don't talk to be about property damage, because someone set a bar on fire the other day and you didn't so much as bat a lash at the information--during the daytime. No roof means no cover unless they duck under something fast, and even then, I can't help but imagine most of them would be taken out in the initial element of surprise."
The dough was flipped, and she set at the new side with both hands. "I've discovered that the way to approach a fair number of the tribulations faced here is to think about the actions people in horror movies take; and then proceed to do the exact opposite."