Happenings in the Hatch

Lucke Penne

"Hey," called Kelvin as he entered the front door after another excursion, "what do you want for dinner?" Desmond watched the clock reset to 108 minutes, stood up from the computer and padded over to the pantry. Kelvin watched with curiosity as his partner dug through the pantry's contents with fervor. He finally emerged with a box and wordlessly held it up so that Kelvin could see. "You've gotta be kidding me, Des," Kelvin said, shaking his head. "Again?" "Aye," Desmond replied, "I never kid about penne." A defeated Kelvin sighed, taking the box from Desmond and walking over to the kitchen to begin preparing the pasta. Desmond followed, jumping around excitedly and cheering.

"Could you go and get that sauce from the pantry?" Kelvin asked, not taking his eyes off of the penne that was boiling on the stove before him. "Aye," said a voice almost directly into his ear. Screaming, Kelvin shot up like a rocket as he realized that it was just Desmond. "How long have you been there?!" A startled Kelvin shouted at Desmond, who had been standing behind him and staring over his shoulder. "The whole time," he said, shrugging. "I want to make sure you're doing it right." Kelvin scoffed. "It's not rocket science, Des," he said. "It's boiling pasta!" Desmond once again shrugged, finally leaving Kelvin's side to retrieve the sauce from the pantry. "You know how much penne means to me, brother," said the pasta lover as he disappeared into the pantry. In the kitchen, Kelvin once again scoffed as he dumped the cooked penne pasta into a strainer. Desmond returned a few seconds later with a large jar of Dharma marinara sauce and Dharma meatballs, which he placed on the dining room table. Kelvin grabbed two plates, filling each of them with pasta and sliding into the booth across from his partner.

"I hope they keep these Italian food drops coming," said Desmond as he dumped meatball after meatball atop his plate of penne pasta. "Easy there, Des," Kelvin warned. "That's our last package of meatballs and I'd like some too." Frowning, Desmond stopped pouring and handed the meatballs over to Kelvin. "Besides," he continued, "I don't know when the next Italian drop will be." Alarmed, Desmond's head shot up. "You mean we could run out of penne?!" He asked in a panic. "Well, I can't say," Kelvin answered. "I don't know how they decide which foods to include in the drop." Secretly though, Kelvin was hoping that there would be no more Italian-themed food drops for a while. He was so sick of eating penne for dinner every night, but he didn't want to risk upsetting Desmond. He knew how much penne meant to his partner. He'd seen the longing in Desmond's eyes when he looked at that photograph. He guessed he could keep his contempt for pasta to himself. Until the next Italian drop, at least.