"I am pretty sure that means that you are officially talking to both of us," she pointed out. She typically kept her mouth closed about Michael's grammatical errors but she couldn't resist. Lavender laughed and shook her head. "You don't know what you're talking about. Yachts are sexy," she told him with a far-too-amused smirk. "Also, you don't sail yachts. I don't think. Maybe you do. I'm not much of a ... mariner? Is that what they are called?"
She grinned at Michael and Padma, deciding that she had seriously missed this kind of thing. Michael had a way about making every situation light and while she remembered being particularly annoyed about it when they were together, now she couldn't remember how she could have not appreciated it.
As Michael's head found her shoulder she smiled and looked back at him. "Well obviously because you know what's in here a hell of a lot better than I do. Let's be honest, Mickeee-l," good save she thought, "this is more your kitchen than mine." And it was unfortunately true. Lavender didn't cook. She lived off of take away or the rare ocassion she had someone over and cooking.
"Um eggs, hokay," she stepped forward to get them and the other things he'd asked for. "Bacon, bacon..." she searched and looked in the freezer but mostly what she found was icecream. And some steaks.
"I think I don't have bacon," she said, sounding as if she'd just been told she couldn't have a new puppy.