Eliot felt a slight hint of not quite annoyance but something in the same vicinity when he found out Lindsey had been in his kitchen. Okay it wasn't his kitchen but he was used to being the only to like cooking, the only one to go into the kitchen to make something more complex than coffee.
If he was honest with himself he might have admitted he felt something like he did when Joey would go into his room without permission.
...
THey needed... he wasn't sure what. But they needed to do it and soon cause they hadn't seen each other in nearly three days and things were even more out of hand.
Eliot went to the stove, testing the meatballs and grudgingly admitting that while he could have done better it wasn't by all that much...
Though he'd like to see Lindsey try to prepare french quinine in a busy kitchen while watching for international gun runners.
"Well I'm walkin' again." Was Eliot's response to the inquiry about the appointment, though somehow the question and the entire situation felt disturbingly domestic and familiar and...
He shook his head, grabbing an apple and telling himself that he'd make dinner. Lindsey could try to come near his kitchen. There were certain house rules and Eliot had a feeling he needed to lay down the law. He was here first.
Eliot could practically hear Joey telling him he sounded like he was eight years old.
Things are getting way out of hand He internally grumbled to himself before going to get a plate and silverware.