Dragon Age One Shots

BBQ, Alistair

Armed with fork and tongs, Alistair stood proud before the potbelly smoker spewing delectable meaty and drool-inducing scents into the air. Strapped across his chest was an apron bearing the words "Tender Succulent & Natural Aged, And the BBQ's Not Bad Either!" He'd already managed to get a sauce stain over the word aged, not that anyone much cared.

"Everybody," he shouted to the meandering throng, a smile widening on his face, "I want to welcome you all to my first ever Bee Bee Queue."

Morrigan snorted into the lip of her beer, her yellow eyes ripping through the man, "If everyone does not wind up poisoned before the night is over I shall be surprised." She then tipped her beer back, the imported alcohol swilling down her throat.

Scoffing, Alistair crossed his arms, "As if. Ain't like we're letting you near the food to do your evil witchy things to it."

With measured steps, Sten crossed to the smoke belching rig and muttered, "Is this your pit? It's puny. The Qunari will dig out a beach and bury ten hogs in the sand for nearly a day, the heat of the sun melting the meat to proper tenderness. This...this cannot hold little more than a few piglets."

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Alistair wrapped a hand around the Qunari inspecting the meat. Shoving Sten away before he tried to sneak a piece of pork, he said, "Best I could do, sorry. The HOA was against me tearing up my yard, and my neighbors, dumping twenty tons of sand in the hole, then murdering a pig in the driveway."

"Pity," Sten snarled, stomping off to stand beside Morrigan. Without a word, the witch handed the Qunari another beer. He popped off the not-screw cap with his thumb.

"Ah, Alistair," Zev slid in where the Qunari once stood, his hands wrapped around the cheapest beer one could buy. "What shall we be enjoying on this fine summer evening? Hamburgers? Hot dogs?"

"Hot..." Alistair stuttered, his head whipping in the gnat-infested breeze. "Blighted hell, no. Hamburgers and hot dogs are grilling. Grill-ing. This is real BBQ, right BBQ, just without the whole sand, shovels, and a dozen shirtless qunari strangling a pig part." Sten only snorted at the barbarians unable to offer up a proper feast.

"A shame," Zev turned away from the grumbling Qunari so his eyes locked in on Alistair's, "I was looking forward to tasting your sausage."

"There is no sausage! Only pulled pork, more tender than butter, and a whole rack of ribs," he kept yanking open the smoker's door to rub yet another streak of sauce over them, which he'd been tending to for over a day.

"No, I..." Zevran tried to interrupt him, but Leliana gripped onto his shoulder.

"There's no point, Zev. He won't understand."

"É vita," the elf sighed, returning to guarding the card table laden in paper plates and cutlery.

"Don't think I can't see you nosing about in there, Leliana," Alistair warned. "No sneaky tastes until it's ready."

The ex-sister only smiled serenely at the man armed with a bbq fork. "You're imagining things, Alistair."

"If you were ten feet tall and belching Old Mac Donald while clowns circled around your feet, sure. You trying to steal a bit of pork out from under me, not so much," he brandished the fork near her nose, not about to back down for anything. Admitting defeat, Leliana held her empty hands up and stepped back.

"Alistair!" Wynne chastised from the sidelines, throwing down a tupperware dish and then bustling to him. "Are there no vegetables here? No salads or greens of any kind?"

"Uh," he scratched at the back of his head with the tongs, then paused, "I think Oghren brought some potato crisps. That's a vegetable." At the attention, the dwarf held up his thumb then belched. He'd taken the BYOB to heart and brought his own cask, which also served as a chair.

Wynne shuddered at the lack of healthy options, "You're going to put yourself in the ground eating this way, young man."

"Better be careful not to do it around Sten, or I'll be the guest of honor at his feast. Right? Right," as Wynne wouldn't back down Alistair began to melt, "Okay, maybe there's an apple or something in the fridge?" He turned to his love, who stood with arms wrapped around a fire extinguisher. All she did was cock an eyebrow at him and shift her stance.

"Look, this is a BBQ, a party. We're here to eat tasty food that might shorten your life a bit. You don't go to these to eat rabbit food. It's about celebrating, enjoying life."

"Yeah!" Oghren shouted.

"And I'm suddenly rethinking all my life choices at this point," Alistair added, shivering at the dwarf agreeing with him. He heard the sound of metal hinges whining and spun to watch as the roof of his smoker closed. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing," Leliana slunk back to stand beside the Warden. "Incidentally," she raised up her fists, revealing metal claws stuck to both her knuckles, "your pork is now shredded."

"You?" Alistair spun back, inspecting the BBQ with his body acting as a shield so the others couldn't see. "How did you do that so quickly?"

Leliana shrugged as if it was nothing important. With a careful twirl of her fingers, she excised up her abandoned glass of wine and turned to the Warden. "A fire extinguisher?"

"With him, I like to be prepared," she patted the metal can.

"Okay, okay, okay," Alistair added a last drop of the special sauce he'd been slaving over for two weeks and finally turned to the gathered masses. "Ladies, gentlemen, whatever Morrigan is," he smiled at the scowling witch, "I'm pleased to pass out..." He turned to heft up a mass of shredded pork in his tongs, "the very first BBQ of the season!"

Polite clapping rang out from the hungry crew, hands grabbing up plates. The pork smelled delicious, a tangy bite hanging upon the meaty flavors melded with hickory and pecan. Ribs so huge they looked like he swiped them from the Jurassic period filled out the waning plates, everyone grinning madly and aching for a bite.

Just as Alistair topped off the last plate, he turned to gaze out at the friends (and co-workers) who joined him for this summer kick-off. Which was when an ember kicked off of the coals, landed on his novelty oven mitt shaped like a lobster, and erupted into flames. Alistair's eyes widened in shock, a scream beginning in his throat, when white foam splattered through the air to smother down the fire.

Another two shots sprayed out, making certain the fire was out, when his love placed the fire extinguisher on her hip and smiled. Wrapping a hand around her waist, Alistair smiled, "What would I do without you?"

"Burn the house down," was her logical response before kissing the giddy fool.

"All right everybody," Alistair slapped his hands together, "let's eat!"