Chaos and Chocolate Brownies (1/1)
Summary: Mulan arrives home from work after a long day, while Aurora has spent the afternoon alone by herself…How much damage could one princess do in the span of a few hours, right?
(AN: A little crack!fic done in celebration of Sleeping Warrior Week on tumblr. I've always wanted to see how Aurora would manage Storybrooke's modern technologies. AUStorybrooke, where Mulan and Aurora have jumped through the portal in 2x09. They are currently living together in a small apartment and are in a relationship.)
—x—
The oaken stairs creaked under the heavy footfalls of the warrior, moaning loudly in protestation as her weight shifted over the wooden lengths of their sagging panels. Mulan rubbed the back of her neck with weary, tired, fingers. She groaned at the ache that settled deep into her coiled, muscular, shoulders. The day's work had been long and tedious beyond measure. Moonlighting as an assistant sheriff and cataloging police reports offered useful income, but the extra hours had begun to tax her both mentally and physically. The swordswoman was mercifully glad to be and far away from the glare of a computer screen.
"I'm not cut out for this paperwork shit." The warrior mumbled, swiping a hand across her weary face. Her dark leather boots thudded dully as she reached the top of the stairway and turned down the hall, footfalls echoing with each step.
"At least the day is done, and I'm nearly home. No more stress, and no more messes to clean up. No more files, no more cataloging dusty old files…And Aurora's probably been home for a few hours now." Mulan allowed herself a small smile as her thoughts meandered toward the prospect of swinging open the door of the apartment and laying eyes upon the cheery, welcoming face of her lover.
"I wonder what she's been up to…"
The swordswoman slid the cool metal key into the latch and eagerly turned the handle, blissfully hoping to be pulled into the princess's warm embrace.
"Auroraaaaa! " she howled her girlfriend's name in a cheerful sing-songy voice as she thrust through the doorway. "I'm hoooo—What the HELL?!"
The scene that greeted the warrior was one of utter and absolute chaos. Dishes, bowls, and cups rolled about, tossed haphazardly across every surface and skittering loose across the floor. The counters were covered in a fine dusting of flour. The once immaculate surfaces were dabbled with powdered sugar mixed with sticky syrup, and coated in a fine, slick film of vegetable oil. A tiny green-numbered timer above the stove whined incessantly and the smoke detector soon started keening along, adding its voice to the cacophony of trilling beeping.
"Oh of all the foolish, idiotic, impossible contraptions…" the princess huffed, angrily mumbling as she grabbed a potholder and stooped to open the oven. A plume of dark black smoke billowed forth as soon as the door was tugged open; filling the room with the charred scent of burning baked goods and making the two women dissolve into coughing fits.
"Aurora!" Mulan sputtered between a bought of hacking. "What in the name of the Ancestors did you do to our KITCHEN?!"
The princess looked up, grinning sheepishly as she pulled a blackened piece of charcoal from the innards of the oven shelf. The pie pan clattered onto the countertop as she tried to brush the wispy, fly-away strands of hair back into messy, lose ponytail. The powdered sugar and oil—still stuck to her slim fingers— left streaky, white smudges amongst the wavy locks of honey-auburn.
"I was baking."
"I can see that." Mulan snarked, her dark eyes wide as they roved over the war-torn battle scene of their tiny kitchenette. "Dare I ask? What were you trying to bake?"
Aurora fiddled with the strings of the over-sized flower-print apron wrapped about her lean form, her azure eyes dropping to the ground. "I was making a pie." She scuffed the toe of her baby-blue converse sneakers along the floor "For Ruby's birthday."
"A…pie." the warrior arched an incredulous eyebrow, as she gingerly poked the hard, blackened mass that sat congealed to the bottom of the pie-shaped baking tin.
"Well, it was only my fifth try. I'm still learning." Aurora wheedled in her own defense. "Next time will be better. The cake was at least somewhat edible, once I picked out the burned bits and egg shells." The princess tapped the rocky hunk of carbonized pastry with the edge of a wooden spoon. A tiny chunk of crust cracked and fell to the counter with a hollow 'whump'.
Aurora huffed, her mouth piquing into a crooked, frustrated line. "Now I won't have anything to surprise Ruby with…and she's been so nice these past few weeks, what with us trying to settle into a 'normal' life here. I really wanted to make her big day special."
The princess sighed, her lip jutting out in a pout as she leaned her cheek on her palm, and flicked the wad of pie crust across the countertop. It slid, skittering towards the garbage can, before falling off the table's edge. Another failed endeavor piled amongst the others.
Mulan rolled her dark eyes to the ceiling and stroked a hand through her ebony locks. "Spirits, give me strength." She mumbled, blowing a heavy breath out through her mouth. Her shoulders slumped as she admitted inevitable defeat, her momentary frustrations melting beneath the limpid, pleading gaze of her only love.
"Alright, I'll help. Let's give it one more try…but after this, no more touching the stove."
Aurora squeaked and nodded excitedly, dancing happily on her toes. She solemnly crossed a finger over her heart in an ancient sign of fealty. "I promise."
"Good." Mulan dumped her jacket on the back of a chair and crossed over to the sink, turning the nozzle and thrusting her hands into the running water to wash up. "So, what ingredients do we have left?"
"Uhm, two eggs, some oil, and less than a cup's worth of powdered sugar." The princess rattled the supplies off in a rush.
The warrior paused and tensed, turning from the sink, her brows knitted together in vexed confusion. "Two eggs? But I thought I bought a fresh dozen just yesterday."
"Yeah. You did. I used them all." Aurora replied with a shrug, obviously unrepentant for her previous baking mishaps as she dusted the last bits of flour and sugar from her palms. The swordswoman shot a pointed glance at her companion, but the princess pretended not to notice. The warrior rummaged about, digging through the tiny pantry in search of anything the over-eager chef had not managed to destroy.
Rough calloused fingers groped through the bare cupboards, aimlessly probing, before finally colliding with the thin cardboard of a tiny box tucked far out of reach on the back shelf. She grasped the parcel and withdrew it, triumphant.
"Aha! How about brownies?" Mulan flashed a smile, inspecting the dusty cover.
"Perfect!" Aurora clasped her hands together, her buoyant spirits returning rapidly.
"It's a box mix, so all we have to do is follow the directions. Good and simple." Mulan tapped her lip, thinking aloud as she flipped the box over to view the instructions. Diminutive images of dancing eggs, water, oil, and a smiley-face plastered on an oven timer were stamped on the thin cardboard veneer.
"Really simple." She muttered to herself, slapping the box down on the counter and beginning the search for a semi-clean mixing bowl.
"'Rora can you pre-heat the oven? Just turn the little dial to…uh…350." The warrior requested, pausing a moment to squint at the bold red numbers painted on the box's pictures.
"Sure. I can do that. No problem." The princess chirruped, excited to be of assistance. She hastily jerked the knob until the notch above 350 degrees clicked into place. The oven beeped after only a few short minutes, signifying the correct internal temperature had been reached. "Done!"
Mulan turned back to the task at hand, chewing her lip as her mahogany eyes perused the catastrophe of crockery that littered the tiny space.
'Merciful Ancestors, did she use EVERY dish?!' the swordswoman thought with a grumpy chagrin as she carefully tried to shift the pile of dirty bowls and cups to the side in hopes of making room on the cluttered, crowded, counter-space. She rifled through the drawers and finally found a dusty, cracked, clay mixing bowl.
It'll do for now.
"Ok, we have a clean bowl. We can re-use the cake pan if I just rinse it out…next we need the two eggs, 1/3 cup of oil, and 1/2 a cup of water to stir in with the dry mix." Mulan chattered, rattling off the instructions as she strode purposefully to the second-hand refrigerator and yanked the door open. A rush of chilly air greeted her, and she peeped her head into the pale, dimly lit interior to search for the remaining eggs.
"So, we just mix the oil, water, and eggs in the bowl with the dry stuff?" Aurora repeated curiously, as she inched towards the tiny box laid prone on the counter. Eager fingers twitched, snatching up the little package and prying up the cardboard flaps to reveal the plastic bag of powder that lay within. "Ooh!" she crooned curiously.
"Yeah. I saw Snow make muffins like this once, so I'd assume brownies are pretty similar." The warrior replied her head and torso still leaned over in search, the door obscuring Aurora's actions from view. "There's a strange sort of thing that holds the mix. Snow calls it a 'baggie'. Just remember to get some scissors to cut it or…"
The warrior's words were cut off by the squeal of plastic and a grunt. "Oh, for heaven's sake…I can't get it open." Aurora grumbled, as she wrenched the bag between her fists, straining with all her might.
Mulan pulled her head out of the immense cooler, looking up to see the princess's furrowed brow of concentration. The tiny pink tip of Aurora's tongue poked out as she groaned with the effort of wrestling with her opponent. The warrior's eyes grew wide as she saw the princess heave against the thin layer of clear plastic.
"I think I've almost got it…" the maiden grunted, bunching her muscles for a final heave.
Mulan leapt for the tiny package. "Aurora! Wait! Don't—"
POOF
The warrior's warning was cut off by an explosive shower of cocoa powder plowing straight into her open mouth. The brownie dust fell across the kitchen like sugary rain, coating every available surface in a chocolaty snowfall.
The swordswoman scrunched up her face, sputtering and blinking. Her once-raven-dark lashes were now covered by a thin layer of dull, dusty brown. Her tongue traced her lips and tasted chocolate as she rubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe the brownie mix from her face.
"Oops." Aurora mumbled, her baleful blue gaze apologetic; striking in comparison to the embarrassed flush that colored her neck and ears. Her illustrious auburn curls were now intertwining and mingling with the last remains of the brownie mix as the last of the powdery cocoa flittered down to Earth.
The warrior sighed, jumping slightly as the fridge door fell closed of its own accord.
"So much for brownies."