This is written in thanks to "Ex-lurker" who reviewed Old Fashioned Love ch9 and had the prompt "egg whisk"!

"Ow! Shiii..." the expletive tails off into a grimace and then becomes lost to the simultaneous noise of rushing water and rushing footsteps.

"Ruth! Are you-" Harry rounds the corner quickly and then stops at the figure in front of him, holding her finger under the tap. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, and then gestures to the worn out twin hob at the centre of the Grid's poor excuse for a kitchen. "I was tying to make myself breakfast. I caught the pan I was heating."

"Let's look," he commands, with gentle authority. Without waiting, he steps behind her and wraps a hand around hers, turning it under the water so he can examine the finger from all angles. "You'll live," he announces, softly.

He lets go of her hand and steps back, but only slightly, so that when she turns he is right in front of her, staring at her intently.

"'You scared me," she whispers. "E-earlier, I mean. When you came running. I didn't think any one was on the Grid yet."

He can think of no immediate answer which doesn't involve explaining he had sprinted directly from the Pods upon arriving and hearing her cry out. Instead, he reaches for her hand again and tells her it should be back under the water; somehow, though, they seem to just be holding hands, gazing intently, unable to commit to any other action. He hasn't let the hand go and she hasn't pulled back.

A quiet moment or two passes, and somehow a long stare descends into a ramble of conversation, and he's offering to finish cooking her breakfast - cooking them both breakfast - while she rinses her finger. Even more oddly, she's agreeing.

''Funny. Isn't it?" she asks, as she watches him take over, picking up an egg whisk with which to tackle the as yet unbeaten eggs.

"What?"

"How something so small can cause so much change. Whipping things up, changing them around until they're a new thing, completely blended."

"Mmm, yes," he agrees, contemplatively. He grips his fingers tighter around the handle, and remembers her skin under his a moment ago.

She thinks they're both as well aware as each other that they're not just talking about whisks and scrambled eggs anymore.

Please review (...I guess the same goes and no matter where you delurk, you can prompt!?) xx