Author Note: Fun little One-Shot. Love Being Human. So...well, here we are!

The plume had just settled when I let out a loud cough. Licking my lips was the wrong response to the dry feeling that had invaded my nose and mouth, the result was a flour-saliva paste on my tongue. I sniffed out through my nose, and then realized I was doing so over the food...Hal wouldn't be happy if he had seen that. So, turning away, I pawed the flour from my eyes and just ended up getting dough in my eyebrows. It was clear calling for help wasn't an option. It would ruin everything. All this hard work. Annie could pop in at any second and this would all be pointless anyway, but I still had to try. McNair had helped me learn to be real stealthy like when need be. I'd had better luck killing a nest of vampires.

After finally managing to wipe most of the mixture off my hands onto my shirt, then I could clean off the dough around my eyes. Blinking a few times to make sure nothing was gonna stick tight. The solution was to head to the sink and splash a bit of water on my face. It was drying as fast as a thin coat of blood does, and I had to get it off before my eyes wouldn't be able to open. The clean corner of my shirt was usable to dry my face off. I was saving on laundry by not using a tea towel or somethin'. It was important to be real helpful to Annie today.

Returning to flour bag, which had burst open on me, I grabbed a handful of the powder and sprinkled it slowly into the mixture. Once it seemed that it would be enough to thicken up, I grabbed a spoon and began to stir. As my hand slipped on the handle, I realized my right hand had still been wet when it had been plunged it into the flour bag. My hand was now covered in white paste. It looked a bit like the mixture that McNair would use on bee stings. My attempt to add flour was because the cookbook had suggested adding more if the dough seemed real runny, but it didn't give any measuring sizes. Jus' told me to add more. I'd had to stand here for a while and wonder how the dough should look, as in the book it was described as "wet and a bit runny". The book wasn't any help if it didn't clearly explain how much.

Something was sizzling. My fingers released the spoon, and it slipped down the rim of the bowl and "plonk!" disappear into the dough. I didn't have time to hunt for it though, the sizzling meant the pan was ready. Quickly grabbing a slice of bacon and put it into the pan. Grease began to splatter immediately, and I gave a hiss of breath, before biting my inner cheek hard, glancing back at the doorway. Nothing.

I pulled another slice from the hunk of meat and set it in next to the other bit. More grease sputtered and splattered, I began tossing the bacon in quickly to get it over with, and to avoid more of the burning liquid. Once the bottom of the pan was covered, I figured that was enough, and put the rest of the raw meat back into a container to go in the fridge. Hal had all the containers set for one food thing or another with little white titles on them…but he hadn't made a bacon one, so I figured it was safe to write it on me'self and make a bacon container. The black marker distinctly showed my handwriting, and hoped Hal wouldn't notice. After putting the meat away, and went back to the mixing bowl. The sizzling was steady now, and I needed to make sure that it didn't burn.

I reached to get the mixing spoon, which had sunk somewhere to the bottom. I paused. "Haft'a wash first." Shaking my head, I had almost put my raw-bacon hands in the dough. Then went back to the sink and washed my hands, making sure to get under my nails. Like Annie liked.

Now back to the bowl. I reached down to the bottom and grabbed the spoon, plunking it down to the side in some of the flour that surrounded the bowl. My nose caught the scent of the bacon burning. My hands covered in dough, I wiped them on my shirt again and hurried to flip the meat over before it was ruined. It was a little blackened, but only Hal would complain about that. Annie was just gonna look at it anyways…so maybe if it was just set on the plate to hide the blackened bits?

I checked the clock. Annie would be down at 6:30 expecting to breakfast, it was 6:00 now. This plan was quickly running out of time. Taking the bowl of dough and a cup, I carried them over to where there was a pan greased and on low. Carefully, I scooped out a bit of dough, and poured it into the pan. It spread from a perfect circle into a weird shape that looked like a kidney. It was easy to figure the next one would be better. Another cup full, but when it was poured, it ended up making a shape like a skull and part of a spinal cord without a body. Giving a shake to my head, I tried to clear out the concerns that were cropping up. What if all my pancakes looked like body parts? No point in surrender though, at least I could eat the body part ones. Haft'a make some that looked nice though. Nice and proper, real professional like, like she deserved and all. The one beside the kidney ended up lookin' like a post box, the one after that was shaped like a rubbish bin. Now I got a pan full of ugly cakes.

Bacon. I set the bowl of dough down and turned off the bacon. Hope she liked it crispy…even though she couldn't actually eat it. Hope she liked the look of crispy. The kettle went off, and I removed it from the heat immediately, and opened the spout. Scouting the kitchen with my eyes to be sure no one was coming, I listened for some moments, and there were no footsteps upstairs.

Put some tea bags into mugs and set them off to the side.

The pancakes needed to be flipped, and I tried to get the flat spoon under the kidney to turn it over. The kidney came up halfway and then got stuck to the pan, pulling a bit harder just made it break in half. The half in the air dripped dough down into the pan. There was nothin' I could do now. Had to get them flipped or they'd burn. One by one they were pried up, and the bin and the head had also gone all sticky and wouldn't come up. They ended up looking like wrinkled camping blankets, not pancakes. The book said to add more oil if needed, and checked the clock: 6:10. I flopped them on my plate. Those'd be mine.

The second batch went better, 'cept this time they were all shaped like someone had vomited them up. Splatters and weird lumps. I looked at the pancakes as they began to turn dry around the edges. The book had told me that. May not know how much flour to add to the dough, but it said when the edges are bubbly and dry it's ready to flip. With the extra oil down, these turned over real nicely. They were all golden brown on the middle, like in the photograph in the book. Only thing was that the book showed nice round cakes, mine weren't very nice at all. Hal could have these ones, he'd cut them into squares or somethin' anyway. I put them on his plate.

My third attempt was a success, I leaned down close to the pan, crouching to be eye level with the cup, and poured the dough in, real slow like, to keep it from spreading any which-way. I watched four pancakes that were almost perfectly round bubble on the edges. I probably had the time to go and get the tea poured, but there wasn't no reason to risk burning 'um.

They were brown in the middle, they had splattered a little when flipped, but I cut the extra drips off. I watched them intently, until they were done, and then turned the stove off and put 3 of them on Annie's plate, and left one in the pan. In case I screwed something up. "Back up plans. They save lives, especially ours" is what McNair used to say, always have a spare stake or crucifix hidden away on ya. Never put it towards breakfast before though.

I put the cakes in a triangle, then tilted my head, and put them in a line, all over lapping like they were fish scales or something. That looked all pretty like.

I had sliced an orange, 'cause that was the picture in the book, and put it like a little flower on the side of the plate. Annie was gonna love this. On Hal's plate, I arranging the cakes like with Annie's. Mine were too wrinkled to sit nice, so they were grouped into a little mound.

"What on earth have you done?"

My body immediately tensed, and I tried to ignore him. He must have heard me, it wasn't time for him to get his morning tea yet. "I'm makin' breakfast."

Hal's breathing was heavy, almost as if he were verging on goin' into shock. "You've got flour everywhere. Every single crevice. You Neanderthal, this is why Annie cooks…"

"So ya don't haft'a look. I'll be cleanin' it up when I've finished." I finished putting the "garish" that the book told me to use the orange slices for about the plates. Didn't bother lookin' back at Hal, it was easy enough to sense him still standing in horrified disbelief at the doorway. "But if you're gonna stand there, rather than mindin' your own…stuff, then at set the table. Set it all proper like, with the napkins folded all dainty-ish." Knowing Annie would be down any moment now.

"Why have you done this?" Hal asked, his voice tight, as if he couldn't quite bear to tear himself from the mess.

I turned around, holding my garished plate of pancakes, and motioned with a fork at him. "Annie's done a lot. For Baby and all. For the house." I watched Hal's face soften a little bit, his brows still furrowed, and his feet at the ridge of the powder explosion.

"Yes, that's a given. But why?" He motioned to the powder, and the dough I had smeared down my shirt.

"It's Motherin's day, Hal. I was lookin' for a way to celebrate her an' all, so I asked Allison on'a phone if she had any ideas. She said it was a big to-do to celebrate Mums. She gave me a whole list'a things we gotta do, first one, most important one, make her a cake. But "she don't eat", I told her, an' Allison said that it's rated as top priority to do on Motherin's day, that'n flowers…so this is as close as I could get. To cake. The flowers I got this mornin'… they're in Eve's room." I kept my eyes trained on his for a moment, before turning around and taking some of the bacon and putting it on the orange garish, to make it look like a stem for the flower. "An' Annie's been more like a Mum than I ever had. She's been all stern and stuff, but she…" Shaking my head and giving a loose shrug, I probably should have written out my thoughts in that debate format, like Allison had taught me. But there wasn't no one debating it.

"Do we have napkin rings?" Hal asked from somewhere to my left. He'd been listening, but thankfully he let the subject drop for the moment. "Ah, here they are. I should have remembered that Annie moved them back here." Hal muttered, as I finished up garishing the plates. I poured the mugs of tea to let them steep a bit, and then carried the plates out to the little dining area.

Hal was standing beside one of the settings at the table, his back straight and his smile vanished when he saw mine. "Something you find funny?"

The cloth napkins were rolled and put in the bamboo rings, the utensils were all set out at perfect distances, and glass juice cups were all filled. I put Annie's plate down, and Hal's plate, and chuckled. "Ya a butler in'a last 500 years?"

"No. But, I had butlers. So I know how a table should look when properly set." Hal's smug attitude no longer bothered me as much as it had used to. We'd gotten to be good enough mates, so I just nodded.

"Knew ya'd have somethin' like that up yer sleeve". I went back for my plate and the mugs, and realized Iwas still wearing my dough sullied shirt. Hurrying through the powdery mess, and to the table, putting the tea and final plate down, I looked over at Hal. "I've gotta change me shirt. Can ya fix the garish on Annie's?" The orange slices had slid a little, and at my request, Hal had furrowed his brow.

"Please tell me you meant "garnish"?" Hal chided, his hand having found a domino, he was now flicking it through his fingers.

"Eh? Yeah, make it look nice again while I get another shirt-" The doors to the kitchen swung open, and like the wrath of God, Annie came stomping out with her dark eyes trained on me and my shirt.

"What have you done to my kitchen, Thomas McNair! What've I told you about making explosives! That's it! That is going in the house rules!" Her attention and anger waved as she looked over at the table. "Hold on. What's this?"

"Wanted to make somethin' for ya. On account'a ya bein' so nice and all." I sputtered out, feeling a little embarrassed that she'd seen the mess in the kitchen first.

"Oh…you made me breakfast?" Annie melted. I had hoped she would, she liked bein' treated nice, and her smile made me realize how flattered she was.

I wished there'd been somethin' grand to say, but I just sort of stood with my hands finding their way into my pockets. "On account of you takin' care of us all the time, ya know. Somethin' in return. An' I'll clean up the kitchen, I swear."

"Yes, you will, Tom McNair." Annie said sternly, but she had her hands up on her collarbone and she was still smiling. "You set the table, Hal?"

"Yes." He said in a slightly strained tone. Wasn't sure if it was because he was thinking about the kitchen, and how he would have to clean it after my coming attempt to clean it, or something else entirely.

"It's lovely. Oh, and look at the little…orange flower…bacon thing. That was very creative, Tom." She gushed, letting me know that she wasn't as angry as she was pleased.

"I f'aught it needed a garish."

"Garnish." Hal interjected.

"Garnish." I corrected myself.

"Why don't you pull out her seat for her, Tom?" Hal suggested tilting his head and raising his eyebrows, obviously wishing to move things along.

"Oh. Yeah." I grabbed her chair and pulled it out a little, she sat. I noticed Hal was making some kind of odd movement with his head, and I blinked at him. "What?"

"Push it in, push it in for her. Really, you have no sense of etiquette." Hal groaned, and waited until I had sat Annie all proper-like before he took his seat.