The ghostly white footprints started in the middle of the living room. Scratching his head, Wes crouched down to get a closer look at the offending marks on his freshly scrubbed carpet. Judging by the size and shape, they had to be Violet's. But what the hell had she walked through? He touched his fingers to the powdery substance dusting the carpet and rubbed it between his fingers. It was fine but gritty. Flour?

"That's it," he heard coming from the vicinity of the kitchen. "Just like that."

Frowning, he pushed to his feet. It wasn't ever good when Travis and Violet were in the kitchen. Chaos and destruction usually followed wherever the two of them went and when in the presence of food, it only intensified. Pushing open the door leading inside, he found Travis behind the island counter scooping something out of a bowl. Violet sat on the counter beside him, a spoon shoved in her mouth.

"Travis? What are you two doing?" He moved further into the kitchen and looked around. "And where's the baby?"

"Oh hey," he replied, flashing that glorious grin of his. "Bri's still asleep in her crib and we're making cookies."

Wes assessed the state of his normally pristine kitchen and noted egg shells on the counter, sugar on the tile, and chocolate smeared on his older daughter's face. "Should she really be having chocolate so early in the morning?"

Travis shrugged. "Why not? Would it be any different if she had a chocolate donut?"

"Yes," he said, breathing deeply and trying not to flip out over the condition of his home. "Because a donut is an acceptable breakfast. A spoonful of cookie dough is not."

"You are such a spoilsport," Travis teased. "It's Halloween."

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "But that also means she's going to eat nothing but candy for the majority of the evening. Can't she at least have a good breakfast?"

"Man, you need to relax." Travis shook his head as he scooped chocolate chip and pecan studded dough onto a cookie sheet.

Wes slapped a hand across his face. "You really should have lined those with parchment paper first, but whatever."

"Papa, down," Violet demanded.

After giving his daughter a long, hard look, she added a 'please' to the end of her demand and was lowered to the floor. "Go tell your mama good morning, Vi."

"Mornin', Mama," the little monster shouted, throwing her arms around Wes' knees.

"Good morning, baby," Wes said in return, squatting and holding her out at arms' length. "Travis? What is she wearing?"

Without taking so much as a glance over his shoulder, Travis gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Her costume."

"No," Wes said, confused. "Her costume was purple and had wings. This looks like a robe."

He turned his daughter around and looked at her more closely. What he'd first thought was her bathrobe looked more like the top half of a karate outfit. She wore brown boots on her feet and no pants.

"Wait Mama," Violet insisted, holding up one hand in front of his face. "I missing part of my costume."

Wes watched her run out of the kitchen and into the living room in search of the missing item. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back on his husband. "Why are you making cookies so early in the morning? It's weird enough to even see you in here, but baking? It's like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something."

"Pfft," Travis huffed. "You have no faith in me. Baby Vi wanted to make Dakota cookies for taking such good care of her and her sister, so I thought we would."

"That's awfully nice of you," he said, actually meaning it, "but did you know there are flour footprints in the living room?"

"There are?" Travis looked up from his misshapen balls of cookie dough and glanced towards the living room. "How'd she get flour on her feet? In her hair, I get, but on her feet?"

"Wait, she has flour in her hair?" Wes was about to lay into his lover for being completely irresponsible when Violet's voice drew his attention again.

"Know who I am now, Mama?" She grinned a very familiar grin and waved what looked like long, metal stick that lit up at one end.

"Oh dear god, Travis, why is she dressed like Luke Skywalker?"

"Why not? Luke was pretty badass after all."

"But she's a girl," he protested.

Travis slid a tray of cookies into the oven and set the timer. "And since when did we start subscribing to traditional gender roles in this house?"

He had a point. "Okay then, gender roles aside, she picked out that fairy costume a month ago. When did she change her mind?"

"Do you really want an answer to that question?"

The grin that graced Travis' face ensured him that no, he indeed did not really want to know. "Only if you can give me a straight one for once."

"Hmm…" Travis hesitated. "Is that even possible?"

"Probably not," Wes said, looking around the mess that was once a very clean space. "How about I pretend we didn't already buy her a costume if you clean this disaster up. Deal?"

Travis looked around the kitchen, frowning. "You won't help at all?"

"Did I make any of this mess?"

"No, no you didn't." He glanced around the kitchen again, noting the chocolate chips scattered everywhere, the dough smeared on the cabinets. "Yeah, deal I guess."

"One question though?"

"Yeah baby, what's that?" Travis picked up the empty bowl and placed it in the sink.

"That costume does have pants, right?"

Travis laughed. "Of course it does, but in true Violet fashion, she didn't want to wear them. I'll get 'em on her before we go out though, promise."

"That's all I needed to hear," Wes grinned.

The timer on the oven sounded and they both turned. "Cookies are done," Travis sang.

"And they actually smell really good, Marks." He moved over to stand nearer the cookies as they came out of the oven.

"I'll let you have one," Travis promised, "if you give me a kiss."

"Can I have two?" Wes batted his eyelashes at Travis.

"Maybe if you let me grab your ass while you're kissing me, I might think about it."

"Ew, papa," Violet announced from beside his knee. "No butt touching, 'member?"

"Wait," Wes asked, trying to control the laughter bubbling up inside of him. "When did you two have a discussion about the appropriateness of touching someone else's butt?"

Frowning, Travis threw a look at his daughter. "After that one there pinched my left cheek one morning." He rubbed his backside at the memory. "Her little nails are sharp!"

The laughter rolled out of him at his husband's admission. "Oh you so deserve that though. This is why I say you need to lead by example, Marks."

"And what does that mean?"

"You have any idea where she learned the pinching thing? Need a hint?" He held up his thumb and pointer finger, moving them in a claw-like motion.

"Do I really pinch your ass that much, buttercup?" Using a spatula, he shoveled cookies off the metal sheet and onto a waxed paper-covered towel.

"Only every chance you get," Wes reminded him, sneaking a cookie off the counter. "But it's okay. Better my butt than some blonde bimbo's."

"I heard that," Travis agreed, smiling. He looped his arm around Wes' neck and kissed the side of his head. "You mad about the mess?"

"Nope," Wes said, returning the kiss and sneaking another cookie. "Because you're cleaning it all up."

He waved the cookie in the air and walked out of the kitchen.

"You," Travis hollered after him, "can be such a jerk sometimes, Wesley Mitchell!"

"And you love me for it, Travis Marks," he shouted back.

"You guys are soooooo weird," Violet said from where she sat on the floor, playing with her light saber. "But I think I keep yous."

"I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am to hear it, kid." Wes ruffled her hair and thought that maybe he out to check on Bryony, just to make sure she really was still asleep in her crib. When it came to Travis and Violet, you never could be too sure.