[ He says it like it's a joke, but it's really not. He's been around for some of the horror stories -- at least, the ones Nate's told him. Obviously he can handle himself, that's part of what he does for a living, but that doesn't make Ian any less worried.
He's in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and flour on his shirt, the remains of measuring cups and spoons adorning the counter beside him because the man's precise as hell about his cooking. Music is playing because it always is, because Ian is predictable. ]
We don't want any.
[ Called out wryly, without abandoning the eggs. Classic dad joke, and why he has that trait when he isn't nor has he ever had a dad is beyond anyone's comprehension. ]
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He's in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and flour on his shirt, the remains of measuring cups and spoons adorning the counter beside him because the man's precise as hell about his cooking. Music is playing because it always is, because Ian is predictable. ]
We don't want any.
[ Called out wryly, without abandoning the eggs. Classic dad joke, and why he has that trait when he isn't nor has he ever had a dad is beyond anyone's comprehension. ]