Mia looked down helplessly at the pot of steaming water on the stove. She looked at the recipe again, "The macaroni goes in next right?" She muttered to herself.

There was no one in the kitchen, aside for herself. The perfect opportunity to practice without having someone around judging her every move and taunting her, asking why she even bothered. Mia's eye twitched and she gripped her wooden spoon a little harder than necessary, thinking back to the asshole on the crew who mocked her for her lack of culinary skills. She would prove the bastard wrong.

The sound of boiling water brought Mia's attention back to the pot and her eyes widened, brows furrowing, "Ahhh, that's probably not supposed to happen yet." She stirred the pot aggressively, splashing some water on her hands. "Ouch! Damn it Wire, you could've put more details on the damn recipe!" Her hand gripped the note into a crumble, her hands hovering over the pot, trying to think of a solution. "How am I supposed to know when the next ingredient is supposed to go in?" She said desperately.

It was nothing but fractions and ingredients floating around in her head in an jumble of confusion. Out of all the skills she had to fail in, it had to be the one that she needed to know the most. She wasn't about to give up though. Growing up with no one believing in her and purposefully trying to bring her down, she quickly learned to be stubborn. If she wasn't good at something. She would simply learn. Even if she had been trying to learn to cook even a simple meal for a quite a while now.

Mia would've heard the light tap of shoes drawing near the kitchen if she was focused on anything besides the boiling pot of water. She threw in the macaroni and started to stir frantically. "What's next?" She unwrapped the wrinkled paper in her hand and scanned it. She had no idea if she should put in the milk or butter next, maybe it was the cheese?

"What're you doing?"

Mia shrieked and jumped in shock. The wooden spoon flew out of her hands, landing somewhere on the floor behind her. She had not heard anyone coming near and barely registered the recipe falling into the pot. Her first instinct was to reach into it and grab it, even as it quickly melted into the macaroni. Only then did she remember that the pot was still boiling.

Luckily, Killer managed to react quickly enough to stop her hand from dipping in too far.

"Hot!" Mia yelped.

Killer pulled her back against his chest and away from the stove, turning it off with the hand that wasn't currently around Mia's wrist.

"Gods, Kill! Next time give me a warning that you're here. I've burned my poor fingers." She pouted, displeased, although no real sting to her complaint. She clutched her fingers tightly, hoping the pain wouldn't spread to much.

Killer inspected her fingers. Thanks to him she had barely dipped them in but the tips were beginning to redden. Mia noticed, as she looked up at him, that the lock handle on his mask was pulled forward. As if he was ready to remove it at any given moment.

"You should be more careful." Killer stated as he brought her fingers down to the sink to run under cool water. Mia pouted up at him, knowing well enough his eyebrows were scrunched lightly under his mask.

"Don't make that face Kill, and don't deny it either." Mia deadpanned when she sensed Killer taking a small breath to deny her accusations.

"Alright, alright, you got me. You really can't blame me. You are very clumsy."

Killer turned the tap water off and led Mia to the opposite counter, where he placed the first aid. Mia chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of her head with her uninjured hand. This was something that happened a lot and Killer learned to have a first-aid kit around whenever Mia was involved.

"You know, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Mia reasons. "And I can wrap that on my own." She pointed to her hand, smiling.

"I know." Killer replied, a smile of his own slipping into his voice. He easily lifted her and sat her on the counter, chuckling at her yelp, and modestly settling himself between her legs. "What were you trying to make this time?" Killer asked innocently yet with a slight hint of tease. Mia narrowed her eyes but bit back the rant she was bout to throw his way about how she didn't need him worrying so much over her. She was a pirate after all, strong too. But she let it slide simply because she liked the position she was in at the moment.

"Mac and Cheese." Mia complied, pout still on her lips. She liked how Killer looked from her elevated position. She wanted to remove his mask and look at his face. Most of the crew was out on the island and no one had bothered to come into the kitchen for the past hour so she was sure he would allow it. Besides, his mask being unlocked like that was clearly an invitation.

"Something fairly simple." Killer noted, then added. "But you still can't cook for shit, you know that right?" He grinned but his tone was lighthearted. He applied some cool gel to her wound and the tension in Mia's arm visibly relaxed.

"I can learn!" Mia huffed. Contradicting him with a phrase everyone knew well enough. She would often announce that she could learn a skill if she tried hard enough and would often prove many wrong. Yet this skill seemed to be a more than a mere challenge.

"How many times have you said that after you've injured yourself?"

"I wanted to make something myself for once, since you do the cooking for us a majority of the time!"

"You don't need to bother with it, I like doing it." Killer reasons, finishing the bandage on Mia's hand and looking up at her.

Killer met Mia's eyes through his mask and noticed the look she was giving him, a silent question. He nodded lightly and she smiled at him, reaching over his mane of blond hair and pulling his mask over him. Killers left blue eye met Mia's and she leaned into him, smiling. Her eyes flickered to his white blind eye and back to the blue one, admiring them. She wrapped her arms around Killers shoulders, clasping her hands around the back.

"I know but it would be nice, right?" Mia hummed. Killer returned her embrace. She breathe in his scent of booze and print. She loved it. "And I don't mean in general either, or to prove myself right, but to cook you something good. Wouldn't that be nice? I want to do that for you, just because I can."

"Mia, you can do at a lot of things." He said as ran his hand up her back gently. His rough fingers making her shiver. "Like beating the shit out of a grown ass man and scaring him into tears." Mia laugh at that, recalling the memory. "Blowing up an entire shopping center with only a pack of matches just because Naeth bet you couldn't. And even shoot a single arrow between the eyes of a fish to prove you had better accuracy than all our sharpshooters combined."

Mia was laughing so hard she had to clutch Killer's shoulder so she wouldn't fall off the counter. The faces on those poor bastards when she proved them wrong was priceless. Especially when she not only got one fish between the eyes, but six of them in a single shot of two arrows.

Killer took Mia's face into his hands. "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck."

"Oh, you can't sweet talk your way out of this one Kill." Mia sobered up and glared playfully, knowing well enough he didn't really mean it. If anyone believed in her more than herself, it was Killer. "I'm gonna beat this. And you're gonna help me by teaching me how to cook this damn meal."

"Stubborn as always." Killer pressed his lips to her soft ones lightly before taking a step back, placing his mask back over his head and grabbing the white stained apron hanging on the cupboard under him. "Are you sure you're going to get this?"

"No." Mia smirked. "But I can learn."