He slipped away once more and held her hand briefly. "I will promise to let you worry about me AND make lasagna, but for right now, let's just stick to this night." He squeezed her hand, and walked back to the kitchen, staying in there for a while. He had to cut up the veggies and toss them in, as well as stir in the spices and sauces he brought along, before he also tossed in the rice. It was one thing he truly enjoyed, cooking. It made him feel downright domesticated. "So," Luc called from the kitchen, "mind if I take a little more of this vodka? I've got a high tolerance, and I don't want to make you feel like you're the only one getting a buzz."