"I don't cook much."

Angela stands in the small kitchen with her arms folded in front of their oven, staring at it like it'll somehow magically work itself out. She's waiting for Brennan to do it for her, even though she should probably just do it herself. It's not a tall order in the least to bake a batch of cookies, in fact she's laughing at herself for being so nervous about it, but when you're in your mid-to-late-thirties and you suck at cooking, you second guess even boiling a pot of water.

Brennan walks in from their living room with the tub of raw, pre-mixed vegan cookie dough from their pantry.

"Angela, this is quite easy. Assuming you can follow directions, which I have seen you do numerous amounts of time, there shouldn't be a problem. Just read the directions. I've never baked cookies myself, but it can't be all that hard. I mean, I have three doctorates, I can certainly bake. "

Angela chuckles quietly while Brennan sets down the tub on the counter next to stove and takes a step back to stand next to Angela. Angela unfolds her arms and stuffs them in the pockets of her jean shorts.

"So I guess we should just start then?"
"Of course. I'll portion out each cookie. You can set the temperatures and time."

Angela nods and walks forward to grab the tub of cookie dough and read the directions.

"It says each cookie should be 2 tablespoons of dough, Bren."

Brennan nods walks next to the cabinet next to Angela and reaches above her on her tippy toes the grab the measuring spoons. Angela hunches over while Brennan balances her upper body on Angela's back for better leverage.

"I swear to God Brennan, if you accidently drop something on me, I'll kill you."

Measuring spoon in hand, Brennan slowly lowers herself from her tippy toes and turns to Angela, who is reaching over the stove to turn the oven and timer on.

"But will you get away with murdering me? I certainly don't think so. I, on the other hand, would most certainly get away with murdering you."

Angela slowly turns to Brennan who is already spraying a fresh cookie tray with vegetable oil so they don't stick to the pan and burn.

"Yeah, that's probably true."

As Brennan starts to measure out each serving of cookie dough, she smiles to herself.

"But I would never do that. I wouldn't kill someone I love."