okteiviakom | MCA #9, Friday Evening

Octavia didn't really know much about cooking. On the Ark, it had been all rations all the time, and then on the ground she hadn't really been involved in the preparing of meals. And the kind of things they'd made on the ground probably would've barely counted as 'cooking' by present day standards, anyway.

But today, Octavia grown tired of takeout and prepackaged meals. And they had a kitchen, so, probably no harm in at least trying, right? And it had seemed like a good idea to start with something she at least knew she (and Bellamy, too) actually liked. So, she'd looked up a supposedly 'quick and easy' recipe for pizza crust, then gone into town to get everything she needed for the dough, and also various toppings.

And, of course, she'd enlisted Bellamy to help her. Or at least stand in the kitchen with a beer in hand. His choice, really.

So far, things had been going okay. The first step had been just to dissolve sugar and yeast into some water and then let it sit for a while. Easy. Ditto for mixing in flour, salt, and oil. Octavia was getting the hang of measuring ingredients, at least, which somehow felt like a win. She also wasn't half bad at mixing them!

However.

"Now we're supposed to 'beat until smooth'," she said, frowning at the recipe that was open on Bellamy's phone. (She probably really needed to buy a phone of her own. But it just seemed so unnecessary.) "... What does that even mean?"

[ooc: For the broooo. And SP. So much SP.]

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Bellamy shrugged.

"So, we'll change that. You'll get the drums."

Octavia mirrored his shrug, although the sentiment behind it might have been slightly different.

"Still," she said, sprinkling toppings onto the pizza. "It's kind of a weird thing. Guess I was never one to really own anything." See also: the way she'd had to use his phone for the recipe all this evening.

"It's a weird thing but everything's weird here," Bellamy points out. "Everything. So, it's kind of...not too surprising. Just don't drum too late. I like to sleep."

Octavia swallowed a comment about how non-weird things had been before they'd landed here. Instead, she rolled her eyes.

"It's my apartment too."

Said the woman who still sometimes considered hauling his things back into the bedroom and her own crap (as little of it as there was) out into the living room.

Yeah, no, she wasn't going to be keeping him up at all hours of the night.

"It is but I won't hesitate to call the cops and make a noise complaint on you," Bellamy said with a smirk. "I know my rights."

Sort of.

Octavia rolled her eyes again, but a trained eye might have caught a little twitch of her lips, too. Like a faint smirk of her own. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

What, like she respected authority?

"Noise is just going to get worse when I get into a fight."

"Be nice."

He reached over and swatted her lightly.

"I like sleep."

Octavia swatted his hand away. Tried to, anyway. It was pretty half-hearted, funnily enough - like maybe she didn't mind it so much after all.

"Sorry, nice has never been on the menu."

"Fine. Then, be respectful," Bellamy told her. "You can do that."

Octavia quirked an eyebrow.

"Can I?"

"I believe in you."

He said it dryly, making a face as he did.

"I have faith in you."

Octavia snorted. "Yeah, that sounds really sincere."

Bellamy shrugged. "Might not sound like it but I mean it all the same."

"Better not make those faces then," Octavia replied, a little more mildly. But not without affection. "Mixes signals."

"My face is fine," he says and sticks out his tongue at her. "So there."

"... Did you just stick your tongue out at me?"

Her surprise was really pretty genuine.

"Yes."

He shrugged.

"I did."

"You really have changed."

Amazing what a slightly less stressful environment could do to a person.

She shrugged. "Or regressed. I don't think I've seen you do that since I was, like, eight or something."

"I'm getting hysterical from lack of food," Bellamy said. "Feels like it's taken us hours to do this and I haven't eaten all day."

"Not my fault you don't know when to feed yourself," Octavia replied, rolling her eyes like she wasn't starving already. (She was.) "Come on, just get the cheese. Then we can put this in the oven."

At least she'd bought pre-shredded cheese. Though only because someone at the store had recommended it to her after seeing her look exasperated at the selection provided.

"You talked this up so much that I just went and waited to see what the fuss was about," Bellamy said, grabbing the cheese and opening it up. "I can feed myself just fine."

"Doesn't sound like it," Octavia retorted. But there was that little twitch to her lips again. Because he'd listened to her, even if it was just about pizza.

And no matter how much had happened, that kind of thing still mattered to her, because she was his little sister, and always would be.

She nodded at the cheese. "Make sure to put enough of that on there, okay?"

"I'm putting it all on there," Bellamy said, giving her a look. "Don't push me, I know what I'm doing with this, at least."

"But you've never made pizza before, so how would you know?"

Okay, now she was just messing with him for kicks.

You could tell by the smirk making its rare appearance.

"I've ordered pizza," Bellamy said, rolling his eyes. "I know where the cheese goes."

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