So You're Tired and You're Beat and You Worked All Week Who: Buffy, Eliot, Lindsey Where: Buffy's apartment When: Noon Saturday What: Buffy is pissed, Lindsey is Lindsey, and Eliot just wants to make lunch. Status: Done Rating: PG-13
The good news was Eliot's most recent appointment with the doctors resulted with them saying he seemed in good health and not getting too upset when he told them they could take their fucking chair back. Okay. They didn't try to physically force him back into the wheel chair and he didn't fall flat on his face when he was getting up so he considered it an overall win even if the doctors had given him dirty looks and muttered something about Buffy.
Eliot wasn't entierly sure if it was about Buffy killing them if he hurt himself or that they'd tell Buffy to kill him if he hurt himself but either way, Eliot wasn't really that concerned.
For the first time in far too fucking long Eliot was walking around under his own power with some steadyness, even if it was mostly just his own willpower and personal discipline keeping him on his feet.
He left under his own power and made it to the elevator. He leaned against the wall while waiting and while riding it up, made it back to the apartment, and let himself inside, forcing himself to walk into the kitchen before sitting down.
Even if they would soon be moving the three of them had already taken to subtly claiming diffrent areas of the apartment as "Their" territory. The Kitchen was defiantly Eliot's territory and as soon as he caught his breath Eliot intended to make use of that by making some lunch.
"Buffy? Linds?" He called out, reaching out with his senses even as he did so. He'd gotten pretty good at putting a damper on them to some human level, actually having to consciously "look" to see if they were around. "I'm back. Anyone home? 'm makin' lunch."
Lindsey hadn't had a chance to experience a Eliot Spencer dinning experience yet. Not that whatever he could put together now would be a proper one. But food was a good way of bonding and over the past few days he and Lindsey had settled into a sort of holding pattern, only it was more or less holding at arms length.
Eliot had accepted the role of the guardian of the three of them, which meant he'd probably have to get to the point he could keep an eye on both of his "charges".
Besides, he had a feeling that the sooner all three of them at least sort of accepted that this was happening, they all had roles to play, it was weird but they had to get over it, and they needed each other life would get a whole lot easier for everyone involved.
And Okay. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cooked something. He missed the activity. He missed the normalcy of it.