Coincidences Don't Happen ((1919))

[victoriousscarf]

Mac glanced back at the phone. "I'll call again, say somethin' came up. I can explain ta him later."

[Meadowlark]

"Fair enough." Cohen rose. "What would you like for breakfast?"

[victoriousscarf]

Mac shrugged, turning back to the doctor. "Anythin' is fine," he said. "I don't want ta put you ta any trouble."

[Meadowlark]

"It's no trouble." Came the reply as he went to see what he could find.

[victoriousscarf]

"Sure it ain't," Mac muttered, watching him go. Sighing, he tried to move his leg and winced. He would probably be stuck there about another day. Great.

[Meadowlark]

A while later Cohen brought a plate of breakfast out, setting it down within reach and settling in his chair again with his own meal.

[victoriousscarf]

Mac glanced at the plate and back at him before picking it up. "Thank you," he said, starting to eat.

[Meadowlark]

"Mhm." Doc turned to his own meal.

[victoriousscarf]

The rest of the day passed not particularly quickly for Mac, but mostly uneventfully. He managed to stumble around the apartment a little when Cohen had left for work with the help of the cane the doctor managed to find, usually collapsing back onto the couch quickly enough. He managed to gather about two thirds of the books in the apartment to the couch though, flipping through them at different points of the day, and after the doctor returned, most of the night as well. He called up the house again, getting ahold of Tugger long enough to tell him he wouldn't be home for a few days, planning on staying at Coricopat's house to recover anyway, though he didn't want to put Cohen out anymore than he already had.

By the next morning he was pretty sick of it. He glanced at the clock at about four in the morning and growled to himself softly, hoisting himself up and using the cane to make his way to the kitchen. He would call Coricopat later that morning, asking about getting picked up, but before then he wanted to be able to do the other tom at least some sort of favor, even if it just meant cooking.

Once he got to the kitchen, he leaned against a counter, looking around. He frowned slightly. He could almost swear he was seeing double, in that there seemed to be the same of everything, two of the same pot, same knife, and so on. Still frowning, he leaned over to look into the ice box, starting to become mildly suspicious.

[Meadowlark]

Cohen woke sometime between 4:30 and 5 to the sounds of somecat in the kitchen. Wait, the kitchen. He scrabbled for his glasses, pulling on a robe. Damn it all.

[victoriousscarf]

Mac was looking between two of the same pot, trying to figure out which one he was supposed to use, as if it would leave a sign of some kind.

[Meadowlark]

The Russian Blue entered the kitchen, frowning and starting to speak in Russian, before remembering that the other couldn't understand him. "What do you think you're doing?"

[victoriousscarf]

"Well, I was goin' ta cook," Mac said, gesturing to the two pots. "But I wasn't sure which one was kosher for meat."

[Meadowlark]

Doc's ears laced back at that. "Mm." Wonderful. Just wonderful.

[victoriousscarf]

Mac watched him, crossing his arms over his chest and almost losing his balance completely. "So, any hints as ta which one it is?"