“You got something personal against breakfast?”Justus demanded out of nowhere.

The Database shrugged as she sat and sipped her coffee.

“You’ll waste away to nothing.” He stood up from his own plate of eggs and toast—how inspiring—and moved to the stove.

She rolled her eyes. “Not hungry. Besides you can’t cook.”

He hefted a skillet expertly and tossed back one of her own lines. “Who told you that?”

Twenty minutes later, she handed it to him. “You’re hired. Permanently.”

“I thought you had to teach me how to cook,” Justus teased.

She grimaced and admitted, “I hate cooking.”

#