Title: Belly Up To The Griddle, Grizelda! (3/3)

Author: coffeeplease

Rating: YTEEN (some curses)

Category: post-ep for Third Day Story, Humor, AU

Spoiler Info: Third Day Story, No Exit, Gaza, Memorial Day, Leadership Breakfast, Debate Camp, Election Night, The one where Toby talks about "Miss Julia Child"... okay, everything up to Third Day Story.

Disclaimer: WB, NBC, John Wells, Aaron Sorkin... owners. I just lease and try not to stain the carpet. Lawsuits don't look good on me.

E-mail address for feedback: permission: Sure, just tell me first

Notes: See Part One

"We did it."

"Yes, Josh."

"We actually did it."

"Well, we're not quite done. According to this, we have to baste with the pan drippings."

"But the chicken is in the oven. We can see the finish line. And it actually looks... I dunno... like food... we have to baste?"

"It says "baste occasionally." It says nothing about a finish line."

"Occasionally is pretty vague."

"Yeah."

"Good Housekeeping kinda skimps on the important details."

"I think they assume a basic familiarity with cooking terminology in writing their recipes."

Toby and Josh joined C.J. and Donna in the living room.

"Where's our food?" C.J. asked.

Toby and Josh looked at each other. "We were supposed to be making... you... food?" Toby asked mockingly.

"I'm thinking of the pork Moo Shu, C.J." Donna teased.

"Maybe some spring rolls and scallion pancakes," C.J. added.

"Its in the oven, its heating or post-heating or whatever, we just have to baste it occasionally... C.J., put away your cell phone." Josh settled further into his armchair.

"So its chicken and..." Donna asked.

"Vegetables." The men chimed in.

"And...?"

"And what?"

"A side dish of some sort, usually a vegetable, sometimes a starch?" C.J. took a sip of wine.

Toby and Josh stared at the two women, mouths agape.

"There were side dishes involved in the deal?" Josh asked incredulously.

"Chicken breasts and vegetables won't feed four people, boys." C.J. said.

"I think you underestimate the amount of breasts that are currently basting in my oven, Claudia Jean."

"Wow, that sounds wrong," Donna giggled.

"A side dish," Toby muttered.

"No, no, no... there were no side dishes mentioned... dinner, floppy hats..." Josh stuttered.

"A side dish is part of dinner, mi compadre. I'm sure if we called the President, who, by the way, can cook, he would no doubt give the two of you a nice, long lecture on the importance of starch in a meal."

"Maybe a side salad instead of a starch," Donna added.

"We haven't even lost the bet yet and you're already starting in on the salads!" Josh screeched.

"Go back into the kitchen, boys." C.J. pointed to the kitchen door.

"But... we want some wine," Josh... whined.

"To the kitchen!"

"You could have just bought her some damn chocolate," Toby muttered.

"And chocolate would be lovely, Toby. For dessert. But now we want a side dish." Donna stated sweetly.

"I still fail to see how this was part of the original deal."

"Go!" C.J. yelled.

"Go!" Donna yelled.

"Go!" The two woman yelled and pointed in unison.

"Weird sense of deja vu here," Toby muttered as he and Josh stalked dejectedly towards the kitchen.

"Get out in that kitchen!" C.J. continued.

"Rattle those pots and pans!" Donna added. Both women began to giggle.

"I'm a hungry woman!" C.J. finished, laughing.

"Great, we've got Bill Haley and her little comet out here," Josh muttered as he opened the kitchen door.

"I think all these side dish recipes call for ingredients you don't have."

"Since I don't have anything, you're probably right."

Toby flipped quickly through the book. Josh sighed dejectedly.

"We've lost. Face it, Toby. We were caught unaware by that whole side dish thing and now we're gonna lose, they're gonna mock us forever, we're gonna have to eat salad with low-fat dressing and Donna will never date me."

"I doubt your ability to cook is the deal breaker with Donna."

"Still..."

"You want to impress her."

"I want to make her happy."

"Again, you flew to Germany..."

"But that... Toby, that was different. I want to make her happy without a near-death situation involved. Like on an everyday basis."

"A near-death situation is involved in our current predicament."

"But its not mine nor Donna's near-death situation. Look... I need to show Donna I can take care of myself so that she doesn't, you know, think that she's going to be taking care of me for the rest of our lives. I need to be able to take care of her sometimes."

"That's a surprising amount of maturity coming from you."

"I'm surprised myself."

"But you picked her up from the airport, helped rearrange her apartment so she can get along better in the wheelchair, you're paying for the extra physical therapy..."

"All of which is related to the near-death situation. We've already proven we can take care of each other when one of us almost croaks. This is about everyday stuff. You know, not an attempted assassination or terrorist bomb."

"Right, because I imagine those won't be everyday occurrences for the next forty years."

"Well, knowing our luck..."

"Couldn't you have... I don't know... built her gazebo or something?"

"You think you and I would be better at that?"

"Probably not. We'd probably accidentally nail ourselves to something."

"Donna doesn't want a gazebo. She doesn't have anywhere to put a gazebo. She wants a man who can cook. Dammit, I want to be that man."

"Then you should never have mocked me about Miss Julia Child."

"I regret that now."

Toby's face became determined.

"Okay... side dishes... do you have any rice?"

"That usually comes to me in a white carton."

"Potatoes?"

"I don't know... Toby, we've lost!"

"No. No, I am not conceding. After seven years of watching you sabotage dates and moan about inns and whine about gomers, you're actually making a positive move and I don't think you and I should be bested by something as small as a side dish. Also, Miss Haley out there, our new boss, should be put in her place. Just so she won't ever quote a bastardized version of a blues song to us again."

"I agree, but I don't think I have any potatoes. And if one of us goes out to the store again..."

"More ammunition for them."

"Agreed."

"C.J... when you lost the bet and she told you you had to cook her a meal, she didn't... specify the amount of help, right?"

"Well, she immediately suggested you."

"Figured that."

"But no, she didn't."

"Give me your cell phone."

"Charlie!"

"Apparently, my services are required." He was carrying a large sack of redskin potatoes.

"The college graduate with the redskin potatoes, huh?" C.J. took sip of wine.

"Okay... you two have been drinking wine for awhile now, right?"

"I dunno... couple of hours, it seems like..." Donna lolled her head towards Charlie.

"I see. Well, keep drinking. Team Josh can use all the help it can get."

He entered the kitchen.

"Team Josh?" Donna turned to C.J.

"I don't have to wear a floppy hat, right?"

"No, you're the ringer. Ringers don't have to wear floppy hats," Toby answered.

"I'll put on an apron if it helps Team Josh."

"I don't have an apron, but I appreciate the thought," Josh said.

"How do we cook the potatoes?" Toby asked.

"In a pan," Charlie answered.

"Do we need to marinate them like the chicken?" Josh asked.

"We should probably cook them with some oil or butter and some herbs."

"Herbs?"

"Like oregano or basil or something... you guys don't know anything about this? How do you feed yourselves?"

"Take-out," they both answered.

"Everyday?"

"We're two single guys from the East Coast. That's just our way." Josh answered.

"I'm a single guy from the East Coast. Doesn't mean I can't cook a killer Chicken Osso-Buco Style when the need arises."

"I knew the Osso-Buco was going to come back to haunt us." Toby muttered.

"So, I'll just start cutting the potatoes..." Charlie was quickly interrupted.

"No!" Toby and Josh shout in unison.

"We have to do this ourselves," Toby explained.

"I have to prove to Donna..."

"Say no more. What do you want me to do?"

"Keep them occupied."

"Distract them until we're done."

"Do I get to eat, too?"

"Umm..." Josh looked around. "I don't know if we've made enough food."

"That's okay. I'm here for Team Josh, not for a free meal."

"Okay... so go out there and make sure they aren't saying mean things about us," Toby instructed.

"I'm not sure I can stop them from their favorite pastime, but I'll do my best."

Charlie left the kitchen.

"Herbs, Toby?"

"Oh my God it looks edible!" C.J. exclaimed as she sat down.

Donna primly put her napkin on her lap. "Wow... I mean, I thought at the very least you guys would burn the eggplant."

Toby and Josh exchanged satisfied grins.

"And even though the potatoes went in late, they look... cooked." C.J.'s eyes were wide with amazement.

"With herbs," Donna added.

"Let's not be too hasty, Donna. We have to taste it first." C.J. winked at her coconspirator.

"You still have the menu, right, C.J.?"

"Enough!" Josh intoned as he poured himself some wine. "One of you ladies taste the damn thing and Toby and I will then bask in our glory while you wallow in your defeat."

"Donna, dear..."

"Oh no, C.J., I insist. It was your bet."

"He's your boyfriend!"

Donna and Josh's eyes went wide.

Donna recovered quickly. "Exactly. Therefore, I have to be supportive and... um... to properly be supportive I need to... uh... see if you live first."

Josh managed to look both elated and insulted.

"I would point out that I cooked as well. I was an integral part of seed removal." Toby grunted.

Josh leaned over to Donna. "Yeah, but I'm the one who basted."

"Just like the rest of us went to school on your throw, right, Josh?"

"Hey, remember the team, Toby! Team Josh!"

C.J. picked up her knife and fork. "Okay, since none of us have apparently graduated from kindergarten, I will risk life and stomach and try your chicken with vegetables. Donna, you can direct an ambulance here?"

"Hey, hey, hey!"

"No worries, C.J."

C.J. cut herself a piece and cautiously took a bite. Toby and Josh stared at her, apprehensive. C.J.'s eyes widened; the men held their breaths. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, than grimaced. The men cringed.

"Donna..."

"Yes, C.J."

"It's actually delicious. We lost. I can't believe it; we lost."

"It was really good, Josh."

"Thank you, Donna."

They were alone in his living room.

"Did you enjoy cooking?"

"Sort of. I mean, actually doing it wasn't bad. I just wish..."

"What?"

"It would have been more fun if you had been helping me instead of Toby. And easier. 'Cause you actually know how to cook, although I hope I've proven at least that I can... You want a man who can cook. And I want to cook for you, Donna. I mean, I'm not ready to bake yet and I still don't understand the concept of "preheat" but I want..."

"Preheat means you turn on the oven."

"See, I don't understand why they can't just say turn on the oven."

"Well, I'll make it clearer for you when I'm teaching you how to cook my chicken pot pie."

"You'll... teach me how to cook?"

"Of course. Then we can cook together."

"But I thought you'd want a man whose already knows how to cook."

"I want a man whose willing to cook. Who doesn't expect me to make all three meals, everyday, until death do us part. But just because you don't know doesn't mean you aren't able and willing... that's the most important part."

He kissed her softly.

"You couldn't have made that clear before the side dish part?"

"Well, I wanted to see you suffer."

"Be careful, Donna. Toby and I already have plans for our revenge."

"You won. Why do you need revenge?" She stroked the side of his face.

"Gender equality, Donna."

"You are such the feminist, Josh."

"I know."

"So what are you going to force us to cook?"

"No cooking for you two."

"Ever again?"

"Toby's already talking about attempting the Chicken Osso-Buco Style."

"So barefoot and pregnant, just not in the kitchen?" She grinned at him mockingly before kissing him.

"Uh.. not until your leg heals and you know, we get married and I think you should probably wear shoes while you and C.J. are working on your project."

"That project being?"

"How do you feel about building us a gazebo?"