"Mhm! Restocked on tofu, so it's time to get a meal in you."

She steps back from the door and offers a hand out of the car.

Oh. Yes, a hand would definitely be good.

"Oh, thank you."

It accepts her hand and climbs down out of the car.

And Sable leads the way up the stairs and back inside, bag of tofu in hand. She stops in the entryway to unlace her boots and take them off, smiling at Mae.

"I feel pretty lucky right about now, honestly."

Oh?

"You do?" it asks, smiling a bit.

"Pretty sure I just lucked into a really cute and smart foster-daughter, all because you happened to turn up outside my door instead of someone else's."

Oh. Umm. It does not entirely know how to react to that.

It's going to blush a bit, and perhaps stim with its hands as it fails to have words about that.

Sable giggles fondly and ruffles its hair. "C'mon, cutie. Out of those flip-flops and and into the kitchen with us. We've got stir-fry to make."

Aww, ok yeah, that's definitely a thing they should do. It's feeling rather hungry now.

It nods and does as she says, slipping off its flip-flops and setting its coat down inside.

And into the kitchen they go. The packs of tofu go into the fridge, where there does turn out to be a pack of tofu still. That one comes out, as do some frozen veggies. She cuts open the pack, drains the water, and then plops the tofu onto the cutting board, carefully cutting the tofu before putting the slices between a pair of paper towels and then setting another cutting board and a book on top. Then it's time to start making the rice. "Hmm. I don't have veggie bouillon cubes, need to get something vegan there. What do you think about coconut milk in the rice?"

Hmm…

"I don't love it, but I don't hate it? So you may as well add it for the nutritional value."

…The bouillon cubes are a bit of a loss, though.

"What spices do you have? We might be able to make up for the bouillon."

She opens a cabinet with a smile, revealing a large spice-rack with all the spice jars on their sides, labels on the lids. She seems to have basically everything.

"Quicker to list what I don't, probably."

A neighboring cabinet holds sauces and condiments of varying sorts.

Oh, excellent!

It— oh, it's too short.

"Umm, may I have a stool, please?"

People generally consider it rude to stand barefoot on their countertops.

She leans over to tug a folding stepstool out from where it was hidden between the fridge and the countertop, kicks it open, and slides it to a stop right in front of Mae with a smile. "How's that, sweetie?"

"Perfect, thank you!"

It grins and climbs onto the stool, then begins rummaging through the cabinets, setting spices on the counter, and taking stock of the condiments.

Soy sauce is an obvious yes, but what else? If there's no bouillon cubes, it'll need some other sources of tasty vegetal flavor. Powdered garlic, powdered onion, MSG (which Sable has just gained another few Excellent Person Points for having)… hmm… oh! Cayenne powder for spice, probably… oh, unless she has gochujang or chili crisp?

It mumbles under its breath as it continues picking out spices and sauces, now oblivious to its foster mother as it loses itself in flavor-space.

She doesn't have either of those, but could be persuaded to buy them if asked.

At the moment, however, she's a bit taken aback at the clear sense of purpose Mae is moving with here, the visible knowledge of all these spices.

Who taught it all this at nine? She is maybe a bit concerned. Appreciative of the skill, but concerned.

Mae is entirely too preoccupied with spices to have any idea that Sable would be worried about this. Probably the thought should have occurred to it, but it hasn't, so on it goes.

After a few minutes, it has a small horde of little spice bottles assembled next to a few bottles of condiment, and is beaming happily up at Sable from beside the stepstool.

By the time it finishes sorting everything, Sable has finished processing the fact that someone made her foster-daughter learn to cook far too young. Why does that feel weirdly familiar? It shouldn't.

She's quite firmly back to a warm, impressed smile, and she ruffles Mae's hair. "Great picks, cutie. Am I right in thinking that these ones you want for the rice, and those ones for the veggies?" She gestures indicatively at various bottles.

It nods happily.

"Mhm! And these on both." It points out a few more.

"Good girl. Okay, since you clearly know what you're doing, how about you mix up a seasoning blend for the rice while I get the pot and pan ready and make sure the veggies thaw?"

She pulls down a prep bowl and a spoon.

"Can do!"

It is actually much less experienced at putting together a seasoning blend beforehand than just winging it while cooking, but if it doesn't mention that, it looks more competent when it succeeds, and people thinking it is competent is always good!

Also, it would suggest letting it spice things as they go, but that would involve it interacting with a hot stove, which it thinks Sable would probably prefer it not do.

It helpfully measures arbitrary-but-probably-tasty quantities of various spices into the bowl.

Meanwhile, Sable has gotten water on to boil for rice, thawed the veggies, and is checking on the tofu. Yeah, everything's coming along nicely here. 

(Sable had secret bonus reasons for having Mae mix the spices in a bowl: if it got them wrong, she could adjust before they got added to the food. Less risk.)

"Haven't cooked with someone since I was a kid. It's nice. Wanna put some music on while we work?"

"Oh, absolutely! Yes please!"

It wiggle happily. It loves listening to music while cooking: it means you can dance when you aren't busy!

Out to the living room they go, turn on the TV, and it turns out to be controlled by a little Linux computer running xbmc. She taps the remote a few times to switch over to music library, which is even fuller than the CD binder, and also has some local radio stations.

Sable looks down at Mae with a smile. "More Metric, or something else?"

Ooooh, good question!

It's slightly worried it'll ask for something from the wrong decade, so…

"How about you pick?"