When Red and Liz got to their newest safe house, Liz wanted to do a little baking. The house had a great stove, and there was a grocery store within walking distance. Red obviously wasn't going to argue when someone wanted to make something sweet.
"Something smells delicious," Red stated as Liz pulled a batch of cookies out of the oven. "The cookies smell good too."
"If you want any, no flirting," she warned. He pursed his lips for a moment in thought.
"Alright, you don't smell delicious. You smell like you shower regularly," he said making her roll her eyes. The cookies were transferred over to a plate from the pan to cool off. Red reached for one but had his hand swatted. "What was that for?"
"They're not done yet. I still have to put the icing on them."
"... We don't have icing," Red responded and Liz sighed.
"Then, I'll just go get some. You can have one later," Liz stated. Red glanced over at the plate while Liz started to the door.
"But they'll be cooled off by then," he said sounding like a child.
"Then we'll have cooled off cookies."
"Warm ones are better."
"Then you can just put one in the microwave."
"Now, that's just blasphemous!"
"Red!" Liz snapped, turning towards him again. "The longer you complain, the longer it'll take for me to get back," She added. "Now, go watch tv or something."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Red grumbling to himself in the middle of the kitchen. When he heard the front door shut, his gaze shifted to the plate. He drummed his fingers on his thigh while he thought. One cookie shouldn't hurt. Besides, Liz should expect this from him. After all, he was the concierge of crime.
Liz came back about fifteen minutes later. Something felt off the second she walked into the safe house. The first thing she heard was Red snoring, but why was he asleep in the middle of the day?
On closer inspection, she found him on the livingroom sofa, passed out, with crumbs around his mouth. The plate she had her cookies on was laying on the coffee table with nothing left on it. Liz glared down at the man in a sugar coma. He couldn't had waited fifteen minutes?!
"Red!" She yelled to wake him up. He gave a startled grunt and blinked up at her.
"Oh hi, Lizzie," he mumbled, still addled from what he'd eaten. "Did you at least save me some?" Liz asked, voice angry.
"... Are there any on the plate?" He asked, too lazy to turn and look.
"No,"
"Then, no," he responded before closing his eyes again. Liz stormed off to the kitchen and picked up her apron. "Those were delicious, but if I ever see a cookie again, I think I'll vomit."
"Then, you better aim away from the mixing bowl when you make a batch to replace what I made," she stated and threw the apron down at him. He flinched slightly but ultimately ended up using the apron as a blanket. A moment later, he was snoring again.
Liz glared at him again before looking down at the icing bag she had in her hand. She stepped forward and drew a mustache on him with it. Backing away, she smirked. "With any luck, that'll draw ants."
Lesson: don't leave Red alone with sweets