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Finn gave her a skeptical look, then scoffed.

"Peanut oil, margerine, onion, ginger, garlic, cinnamon, black pepper, coriander, cumin, turmeric, cayenne pepper, chili peppers, cilantro, yogurt and water." He recited, not bothering to add in the measurements since she was apparently the expert and all.

"I doubt theres anything you could teach me, cupcake. Now get on with it." ******** women, thinking they were the s**t in the kitchen (which they should have been, but he had yet to meet one that lived up to his standards).

At her comment, he smirked, and leaned back further in his chair while muttering. "And isn't that the truth." and then "So how does it feel to be ten steps behind two idiots anyways?"

Finn gave up the phone with hardly a fight, and thought about being even more of a smart a** and showing off his memory skills by telling her all of the proper amounts even while she read them, but somehow managed to keep his mouth shut for once ever.

Remaining in a restful position of leaning back with his feet up on the table, Finn replied to any idle chatter sent his way in whatever manner suited him for the time being, before giving her a sidelong glance at her full hunter comment.

"Go for it, darling. More work, more responsibility, and a higher mortality rate aren't really my gig." He stifled a yawn then, before saying, "You almost finished over there?"

Hrm, well there was that, but unless she was willing to melt out his other eye with a vial of acid, chances are she was going to have a hell of a time convincing him to listen to anything she commanded him to do. The kiss on the cheek was nothing, he had come to expect as much from Chel, and the ruffle of hair was just as expected, though no less aggravating as usual, and he smacked at her hand as she pulled away.

"Trust me, darling, you are not the captain of my ship." He retorted to her retreating form with a cold smirk, shifting in his chair just enough to pull his phone out of his back pocket, checking the time, before setting it on the table to the side.

It wasn't long before his meal was set out before him. "Looks like s**t." He commented, though he didn't actually mean it, as he pushed himself back from the table and stood up, getting himself a knife from one of the drawers as well, before sitting back down, not bothering to ask Chel if she needed one as well since she likely would have grabbed them to begin with if she bothered using them.

Using his fork in his left hand and his knife in his right, Finn slowly began to move his curry so that it was all on top of his rice, not mixing it all together as Chel did but making sure there was an even spread over all of his rice.

"Needs a side of steak." He commented, because what was any meal without steak, really? Before he shoveled his fork in and lifted it up to take his first bite.

It was...not bad, he had to admit. In fact, he missed food like this, that didn't come from a box or a can, made completely from scratch.

"It's good, jumpsuit." He finally said, while going for another bite.

If Finn was at all bothered by her comment, it didn't show (mostly because he wasn't). He knew he looked damn good, no matter what she had to say about it.

But for now, he focused on his food, trying not to eat it too quickly because like hell he was going to make it super obvious that he actually found it delicious.

Shrugging his shoulders in response to her question, he then said. "Well, it's all relative I suppose. After all of the crap I've been fed, anything you gave me was bound to taste good in comparison, right?" He lifted his eye to her in another smirk, then gave his head a small shake.

"Nah, it's seriously all right. Color me a shade of somewhat impressed." Another forkful swallowed before he spoke again.

"......What about dessert?"