Disclaimer: The standard.
Pairings: later Jiraiya x Yellow Flash, others maybe,...
Timeline: Set Pre-Naruto, edited
Spoilers: the Yondaime's (YF) real name
Warnings: Don't read on an empty stomach. You'll understand, later.

Dinner Date
Chapter 01

Turning towards the living room, Minato slipped out of his flamed overcoat and then his shinobi vest and flung both onto the arm cushion of his couch, before turning back to Jiraiya and his kitchen.

Ignoring his sensei momentarily, he went over to the hutch, opened the bottom cupboard and took out a set of pots and pans, needed for supper.

Minato sighed when a particular pot he needed was dirty and moved towards the sink, where he picked up the dish basin to empty it. Rinsing it clean, he refilled it with clean soapy hot water from the faucet, before dunking the pot in to be washed.

Namikaze Minato then paused  —knowing he was forgetting something and his cobalt eyes sparkled in recognition. He may be single but he wasn't absentminded. Or he hope he wasn't, as he fluently walked over to the storage closet, where he placed mostly all his household items. The door groaned open and Minato winced. He was meaning to fix that but there's been no time for himself, since he took on a team and agreed to do missions, on the side.

He took his favorite cooking apron off the hook — the yellow one with the green and red frog in the center [of a white bubble- outlined red] and tied it around his waist, before going back to the sink and the pot. He shut the running faucet off and found that he filled it too much. Smiling sheepishly, he looked over his shoulder while tipping the contents out but Jiraiya was still paying no mind to him. Wondering what was up with him, Minato rolled up his sleeves so they wouldn't get wet and grabbed the abrasive pad, scrubbing the day-old debris off the silver surface. When his reflection shined off the interior, he rinsed it, before putting the clean pot on the wooden rack to dry.

Wiping his hands on his apron, Minato then turned back to his sensei, still silent, since his arrival. Shrugging a shoulder indifferently, Minato went on, "Orochimaru was asking for you, you know," he said, trying to interest his sensei into joining in with him, "I saw him outside of the Hokage Tower, and he exchanged a few words with me  — right before Tsunade snatched him away and insisted she needed his help in the medical lab. It seems by what I've gathered, you two were suppose to meet up during the mid-afternoon but you were a no-show."

"Uh,...I think I'm going to be sick."

Alarm shined in Minato's cobalt eyes, "Why, what's the matter Jiraiya? I hope it's not because of Orochimaru. He did seem a bit somber today." Ah, so the reason for his sensei's silence, was because Jiraiya had another fight with Orochimaru and must be avoiding him.

"Minato, when was the last time you cleaned out your refrigerator and restocked it with recent food."

Oops, wrong. "A week ago," he answered, stunned by the sharp tone, "Why do you ask?" So, it had to do something with the food. Hmm,.. Going over to the refrigerator, Minato opened the door and was surprised that not a speck of rice remained. Even the milk carton was drained of it's content. He'll need to have a talk with Jiraiya about that. He wasn't the only one who used the milk.

"Then, why,..." Jiraiya held his stomach, contemplating why it hurt so damn much. He broke out in a greasy sweat and held his breath, for a few seconds -- experiencing vertigo, before letting it out in a ragged gag-cough.

Hmm, that's right, Minato thought quickly, remembering, "-but then the electricity went out for a few days in our district sector and all the food spoiled. I was going to clean it out today but, as it looks from it, you've already done it for me. Thanks, Jiraiya. It saves me the trouble of doing it myself." He should of known it was bad...by the smell alone. Jiraiya wouldn't be that incompetent to eat what was leftover inside. Something else must be wrong with him that he ate. He did observe a few moths flying out of his oat bran boxes in his cabinet, indicating an expired date.

"Uh,...I thought the horseradish tasted funny in my sandwich."

Please tell me he's joking, "You mean," Minato's eyes grew owlish by the implication, "you didn't empty the refrigerator out in the trash bin and ate something else," he asked.

"Oh, I empty it out all right," grimaced Jiraiya, his stomach making an unnatural churning noise -- like a strangled animal, "but into the pit of my stomach. I regret that now," he sighed, dejected, "Maybe I should of just waited for you to come back, than helping myself."

"Oh geeze, Jiraiya,..if I known you were going to drop in," he reproached, "I would have left a note explaining the food spoiled. Or, I would of at least, cleared it out this morning before I left. But, seeing that you didn't call in advance of your visit, all I can really say to you is  — I'm sorry that you're feeling sick."

"...Geez, you could at least put some real concern behind your words. You should know by now I like to stop by unannounced," he argued, as his defense.

Minato ignored the sarcasm. It really wasn't his fault, "If it helps, I could give you a couple of Tums for your indigestion. I've got a spare roll in my bedroom from before, when I ate out with Nara and Akimichi at Yakiniku Q. If you give me a sec, I can get it for you," As he spoke, he released a series of worried frowns and grimaces, when the skin shade of his sensei turned a particular ivy-grey. His brow creased and his lips thinned, hoping he'll be able to get it in time before chunks flew.

Before he had a chance to zip by, Jiraiya interjected  — looking even more queasier than he had a few seconds ago, as he struggled to keep it down.

"Actually, Arashi,... I'd rather you bagged your mumble jumbo about, "Ooh, you just need a Tummy; you'll be fine" and get the hell out of my way to the line of your bathroom. I thinks it's going to come up...and I mean, soon."

"Oh,..I'm sorry, Jiraiya," he said, fighting his urge to quirk his lips up, as they seemed to be on the same wave length of thought. He really didn't want to mop his kitchen floor again, since he just did it yesterday, "I should of known better," he lied and by the intent glare aimed in his direction, that his sensei, knew he knew, he was trying not to chortle at his discomfort, "Here, let me get out of your way, so that. . . Whooah..." he finished off lamely, as Jiraiya rushed by him in a speed of light, "Almost impressive as I," Minato commented out loud, as the bathroom door banged open than closed, and retching was audible in the background from behind the oak door.

"Well, while you do that, I guess I can start sweeping the other rooms and tidying them up a bit," he said to no one in particular, as he stood alone but enjoying himself. He was very relieved that Jiraiya made it in time. It wouldn't be good for an odor to linger, especially since he was having the Hatake's over for supper tonight  —which reminded him, he'll have to inform Jiraiya, since there was no way he'll be able to leave now with how he feels, "You know Jiraiya," he began, speaking loud enough so that his sensei could hear him over his own retching, "You might want to hurry that up, a spiff."

When a muffled, harsh, "Why?" was his answer, between the bought  — where he heard the toilet flushing and more vomiting; Minato resisted to grin wider  — for he should have some sympathy towards his poor sensei and explained so, in a resonant voice, "Well, Sakumo and Kakashi are coming over later tonight and it wouldn't be very fair towards them, if you're hogging up the bathroom for your own indulgences."

Knowing his sensei was beyond beet red and cursing, by his careful wording, Minato ignored as Jiraiya grumbled nasty things about him between dry heaving and hummed; grabbing his broomstick and ready to do a quick sweep of the rooms to past the time, before preparing the meal for his guests.

He couldn't wait for tonight to arrive, sooner.

It promised to be an interesting evening.