One on One RP anybody?

“Perfect,” he smiled back with some warm amusement, standing up. “I’ll see what I have in my cupboards. I know it isn’t much, but I think it will be enough for just the two of us.”

“If you’d like to help, it would be appreciated,” he offered a smile. He stuck his hands casually in his pockets. “I think I have some beans that are already cooked and ready to season. I made them yesterday.”

“Alright,” Lincoln have a curt nod, though he was smiling, and led Jack to the kitchen. He opened up one of the cupboards where jars of canned beets, jams, and even beans were stored. “What bean is your favorite?” He asked, “I might have it.”

“Alright,” Lincoln chuckled along, reaching up to take a jar of pinto beans out of the cupboard. “Any seasoning preferences? I don’t really have any. I’m good with them all.”

Lincoln laughed, “Alright. How does uh…garlic, onion, salt, and pepper? And maybe sage?” He suggested, opening the cupboard where he kept his herbs.

“Hm,” he tapped his chin, thinking. “Could you pour these beans into the pot on the stove?” He gestured over to the cast iron pot, “It’s clean and dried and ready to use.”

“Perfect, thank you.” He brought the jar of seasonings to the stove and started pouring in what seemed like appropriate amounts of each spice. “I usually don’t measure. My gut tells me when to stop. And it usually works out.”

Lincoln sputtered out laughter, “Good to know. Then I might consider putting less garlic in here. Or else I’ll just give it to my enemies.”

Lincoln burst into laughter, “Very true, but I have actual enemies. Other than university academic rivals, as pesky as those are,” he chortled. He poured in the garlic until he was satisfied, then set it aside on the counter.

Lincoln moved onto sprinkling some sage into the pot. “There were some kids from hell where I came from in America. I’ve declared them my enemies.”

Lincoln smiled back over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were actual demons. I’ll just leave them with the benefit of the doubt,” he chuckled along.

“Aha, I’ll just tell them to put an abhorrent amount of spice in their beans. That’ll show them.” He laughed heartily, stirring their meal with a wooden spoon. His shoulders bounced as he snickered, with as much gusto as he had when talking to Graham. “Although, I have to admit, I hope you don’t die.”

“A tragedy, in fact,” Lincoln grinned. “Actually…what would happen if you died not in your own time. Would you simply die and never return to your own time? Or…?”

“Damn,” Lincoln breathed, “What if they travel in time just before you die so they can save you? Where you die in one time, but not the other?”

“Oh, yeah…” he nodded, wincing a little bit at the thought. It all sounded so messy and complicated, but the only thing that bothered him was the thought of Jack dying. “So it wouldn’t be the best idea travel back in time and join a war?”