Work Text:
Loid paced a small circle around the kitchen, waist deep in thought.
Yor still seemed quite on edge because of Fiona’s recent presence in their lives.. he couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed reassurance. He couldn’t let his wife feel unappreciated, it would be bad for the mission if she began to drift apart from them, but what could he do?
Her drunken rant from the other night still lingered in his mind, just as present as the ache in his chin from the impressive kick she’d delivered shortly after. The thought of his misunderstanding made him feel uneasy too... god, this situation was a mess.
Think, Twilight, think. What could he do to make Yor feel more appreciated? Verbal reassurance, for one, but he wanted something more immediate too. A pamper night, maybe? Women liked those didn’t they? Though, it felt a little intimate of an idea to suggest, she might get the wrong impression... he didn’t want a repeat of the other night.
His restless feet carried him to the sink, trying to make some use of his idle body and do the dishes that had been abandoned there that morning.
As he started running the hot water, he couldn’t help but notice just how odd it felt to be the one cleaning them. Yor liked to keep the place clean, he knew that was something she took pride in. He no doubt took for granted the work she put in to keep their house nice.
She’d been in a rush this morning, slept in for work. It was quite unlike her (though he had to admit, seeing her groggily sipping her tea in the moments before she realised what time it was had been strangely warming), he hadn’t walked her to the door so much as he’d chased her trying to get a goodbye out before she disappeared.
His hand froze where it was, wrist deep in the teacup as a thought struck him. Yor always seemed to enjoy drinking tea with them. Perhaps he should buy her a fancier brand? But there was always the chance she wouldn’t like it.
He snapped his fingers and smiled to himself as he finally got it. He’d bake something for her to have with a nice cup when she came home from work, though, surely she was growing sick of biscuits. The only other real contender was cupcakes.
He finished the dishes and dried his hands with a tea towel before rifling through the cupboards for ingredients. He found cooking and baking to be quite therapeutic, though he was aware it was a soft hobby for a spy.
He set out a mixing bowl and a borrowed cookbook and got to work.
—————————————————————
“I’m home!” Anya announced cheerfully, giggling as Bond tackled her to the floor with a happy ‘wuff!’
She wrapped her arms around the big white mutt’s neck and hugged him, dimly registering her father’s greeting.
After ample fussing, Bond let her up, trotting over to a window to sleep in a sunbeam.
Anya scampered over to the kitchen area curiously,
“What’re you doing, papa?” She asked, standing up on her tiptoes, trying to see what was in the bowl.
“Baking,” he responded curtly, casting her only a sideways glance as he measured out the baking soda.
He made a face at the amount, but elected to follow the recipe.
“Can I help?” She chirped excitedly.
Loid raised a brow, recalling the last time she tried to help. She’d been much more of a hindrance, but she’d probably get upset if he didn’t let her do something.
He sighed.
“Not while you’re covered in dog fur. Go get changed out of your uniform and I’ll think about it.”
Anya seemed satisfied with that answer, hurrying off to her room.
He had peace for roughly two minutes before she came padding back in, pulling up her little step stool.
“What’re we making?”
“I’m making cupcakes.”
He nudged a baking tray toward her, tapping the container of cupcake liners.
“You can set these out.”
Anya looked slightly disappointed.
“Aww, but I wanna mix!”
“I’ll see how I feel once I’ve added the wet ingredients. I might let you if you do what I say.”
She pouted, but was quickly amused by the cute patterns on the liners as she set them out.
Within a few seconds there were messy rows of cupcake papers on the tray, and she looked up at Loid hopefully.
“Can I help you mix now?”
He paused what he was doing, the bowl tucked into his shoulder as he looked at the tray.
He’d seen circles straighter than that.
“Put them out neatly and I’ll think about it.”
Anya huffed and fixed them, putting them into perfect straight columns.
“Now?”
He hummed, looking at the cookbook he had propped against the wall, scowling at it as he realised he’d made a mistake.
“Get the vegetable oil out of the cupboard for me.”
Anya, determined to help him mix the batter, did what she was told. She heaved the big bottle out of the cupboard and set it down heavily on the counter.
“Now?”
“Hm… find the butter and the icing sugar for me.” He said as he looked closely at the recipe. He squinted at it.
“No, that can’t be right…”
She searched the cupboards, disregarding his confused muttering.
She was done with her task within a few seconds, looking up at him hopefully.
“Now?”
“…uh..” Loid drummed his fingers on the countertop. His rescue came with the ticking of claws and rough pads on a hard floor.
“I need you to keep Bond out of the kitchen. Keep him occupied for me, would you?”
Anya pouted.
“And then can I help you mix it?”
He sighed.
“Maybe.”
Reluctantly accepting his answer, Anya went off to play with the dog. He could hear joyful, distracted giggles as he discreetly poured the batter into the liners and put the tray in the oven. He wiped his brow and leaned against the counter, feeling quite happy with himself.
This whole situation was uncomfortable. Not just everything with Nightfall, the entire mission. Every time it felt like he was beginning to get his bearings, something had to go wrong, or change, or somehow get more complicated, but seeing the cupcakes rise brought him an odd sense of accomplishment.
—————————————————————
Anya only remembered the cupcakes when she heard the ding of the oven timer, and she rushed back into the kitchen.
“Wha- you finished them without me?!” She squeaked, a look of pure disappointment settling over her features.
Loid felt a twinge of guilt.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You just looked like you were having so much fun with Bond I didn’t want to disturb you,” he lied. Really, he just hadn’t wanted to be tripping over her while he tried to work.
Anya, moping, stood up on her stool to see if there was anything left she could do. She brightened when she saw a spoon still covered in batter and grabbed it for a lick before Loid could tell her off.
He was surprised to see the look of utter disgust on her face as she recoiled.
“Bleh!”
He frowned.
“What? What’s wrong with it?”
She said nothing, so he ran his finger along the inside of the bowl and tasted it for himself.
He nearly choked on it.
Immediately, he pulled the cupcakes out of the oven and looked at them.
They were greasy and bloated, more closely resembling fine wet sand mushed vaguely into a ball than anything edible.
Loid felt a strangely disproportionate amount of disappointment. He sat down with his back against the cabinet and sighed, resting his chin on his knees.
Well, that was a waste of time…
Anya, worried, hopped down from her stool and sat beside him.
“..Papa…? Why do you look so sad?”
He glanced up at the counter. He couldn’t see them from down here, but the sweet yet disgusting smell that filled the room reminded him of his mistake.
“I’m not sad. I’m annoyed.” He stated gruffly, “I should be better than this.”
Anya touched her head to his arm in an affectionate, supportive gesture.
“Why were you making cupcakes?” She asked after a few quiet moments.
“…Your mother’s been feeling sad lately, I wanted to show her she was appreciated by surprising her with tea and cakes after work.” He said, looking up in defeat.
Anya got up on the stool again and investigated them. The liners had gone transparent, and they left a shine on her fingers just from picking them up.
“…I think they’re still better than what mama would make,” she said, and Loid snorted.
“That’s not very nice!” He scolded, struggling to suppress laughter. Despite his tone, he was smiling at her. How did that cute little pest know just how to cheer him up?
He stood up, now feeling slightly amused by the culinary abomination before him.
“Papa’s silly, isn’t he? Messing up that badly.”
Anya nodded, prodding one of the “cupcakes” and poking her tongue out like a kitten doing the Flehmen response.
Loid dumped them into the dustbin. Bond didn’t dare to even take a curious sniff.
Looking at the library cookbook again and saw what went wrong. Someone who’d borrowed it before noted something at the bottom of the page. Some of the measurements were misprinted. It had the amended ones beside it.
He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. He should’ve noticed.
“I think we should make more,” Anya said, following his gaze to the note, “and we should do it better this time.”
Loid considered it for a few moments. He felt like a total idiot… but they still had plenty of ingredients, and nothing could get worse than the bloated messes in the trash. Besides, baking would make him feel better.
“..alright. ”
He washed the mixing bowl and, hesitantly, he tried again.
“Still want to help me out?”
“Uh-huh!”
—————————————————————
“You wanna crack the last egg?” He offered, holding one out to Anya. She eagerly accepted.
“Okay. Tap it on the counter, and pull it apart, just like I did. Be careful not to get any of the shell in the bowl,” he instructed.
A satisfying crack followed as the egg dropped onto the dry ingredients. He fished out a little shell fragment and wiped his hand on a tea towel. He was about to start mixing when he saw big green puppy eyes peering up at him.
…
“Let me know if your arms get too tired,” he said with a soft smile, handing her the bowl as he stepped aside to put out the cupcake liners.
Anya beamed, excitedly mixing the cake batter as Loid quickly and neatly filled the pan, then moved onto giving Bond something to eat.
He watched her from across the room, seeing the adorably focused look on her face. As she began to slow down, he walked back over to offer some help.
She handed it back, stretching her little arms. She nearly stumbled off her stool as she saw how quick Loid was able to mix it up, within seconds it was perfectly smooth.
She helped him fill the liners, stood back as he put the tray in the oven, and went to watch TV for a little while until she was called back to help make the frosting.
“What colours should we do?” Loid asked as he set out the bottles of food colouring.
“All of ‘em!” Anya declared excitedly.
“Rainbow it is..” he mumbled. For a moment his mind drifted back to the extra washing up he’d have to do making six different colours, but that thought disappeared entirely when he saw how happy his little girl was.
They worked through the rainbow, and as he was mixing up the yellow, he felt a tiny hand swipe across his face.
He turned to a very smug Anya with a puzzled expression, pawing at his cheek to find bright green buttercream. He made a face at her and smeared some of the yellow icing on her nose.
She was shocked by his retaliation, she couldn’t let it stand.
—————————————————————
“Sorry I’m so late!” Yor said quickly as she burst through the door, “something came up at work, I-“
She stopped as she saw Loid’s smiling, multicoloured face looking back at her, teacup in hand.
“No need to apologise,” he said politely, handing it to her, “sit down and relax. We made cupcakes for you.”
Yor sat down across from an equally colourful Anya.
There had to be about twenty cupcakes on the plate, in every colour under the sun. Half of them were decorated neatly with simple additions, the other half were brightly coloured sprinkle bombs.
“I helped!” Anya said proudly, puffing up like a little peacock.
“I can see that!”
Yor picked up one of the cupcakes, and Anya and Loid exchanged a nervous glance.
“These are wonderful!” She exclaimed delightedly, and the two of them visibly brightened.
As the three of them wound down for the day, Loid pulled Anya into a side hug.
“Thanks for being my helper today, Anya,” he said, ruffling her hair as she squawked in lighthearted protest.
“You’re welcome, papa. It was fun!” She responded, yawning a second later.
“You go wash up, I’ll get dinner started soon.” He said gently, watching as she nodded and scampered down the hall.
He could feel Yor’s warm body beside him, their shoulders brushing together as he leaned back on the sofa.
“Maybe you should wash up too,” she suggested with a shy smile, and he nodded. Though, the way she seemed to be struggling not to laugh him made him want to wear his sugary makeup for longer, funnily enough.
He picked up the plate with the remaining cupcakes and went to put them in the fridge. He was quite proud of his own, with their tidy appearance and reasonable amount of frosting, but the ones Anya had decorated had some undeniable charm. He could see the fun she had making them, even hours later.
Maybe he ought to let her help out more often.