A/N: So, I found this story stashed away on my flash drive and after a quick scan through, and a tiny bit of revising, I decided it was worthy enough to post. I remember originally giving up on it, because it doesn't really have a main plot, but it's still cute, I think. I guess I'll find out, anyway. ;P Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck-It Ralph or any of its characters.
"Tammy?" Fix-It Felix Jr. stood outside of his wife's place, patiently knocking on the door. He had already been there at least ten minutes, knocking a maximum of four times. He was early, so it was perfectly acceptable that she wouldn't be expecting him quite yet, but she was expecting him.
"Tamora?" Felix called again, knocking on the door a bit louder than before. He wasn't normally impatient, but it did reach a point, eventually. He leaned against the door frame and listened intently. He couldn't hear much, and what he could hear was too muffled to understand.
Shrugging, Felix pushed aside his manners (since they were married, he supposed it was partly his house, anyway) and walked inside. Her house wasn't much. Only a few small rooms, all open, except for the bedroom. It was more of a shack, really. As least, that's what Calhoun was always calling it.
Despite its unseemly appearance though, especially compared to his penthouse, Felix felt happy there. It was nice, warm, and welcoming, compared to the rest of the game. To him, it was just like home.
As he walked further inside, the muffled noise he had heard through the door started to become clearer. It was coming from the kitchen, so Felix decided to head there. And he wasn't actually sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.
"Tammy?" He asked, surprised.
"Felix!" Sergeant Tamora Calhoun cried, twisting around. She was clearly startled, not expecting him for a good half hour, but she still managed to steady herself and shut off what he had heard.
"What are you doing?"
"Cooking," She admitted, silently cursing herself for not having a better excuse. She actually was cooking, which just made matters that much worse. Though the couple, always exhausted from a long day of work, usually spent their evenings together at Tapper's, there was a few days during the week they would spend the night at each other's houses.
It was Felix's idea, to spend a couple nights alone, rather than with a bunch of people at Tapper's. And it was his idea for the host that particular night to make comfortable accommodations, such as sleeping arrangements and meals.
His meals were always more extravagant, of course – roast, turkey, spaghetti – but they never turned out quite the way he wanted them to. And though a touch of his magic hammer did its job at making the outside look delicious, inside it was usually just mush.
Which was more than Calhoun could say, who's meals actually were mush. Stew, to be more exact. She was used to it. She liked her food tough, just like every aspect of her life, but for someone like Felix, who was always showered with baked goods, it was a bit of an adjustment for him.
"Were you..singing just now?" He asked.
"No, I-"
"And dancing?"
Was she just imagining that glimmer of humor in his eye? "I was..baking," She tried, holding up her oven mitt covered hands. "I made pie."
Casually, Felix bumped his elbow against the music player she had swiftly paused when he first walked in, and pop music filled the room. He gave her a smug grin.
Calhoun quickly pressed the off button on the remote beside her. He raised an eyebrow at her, arms crossed over his chest.
She sighed, though it seemed to come out more like a huff. "Okay, yes, maybe I was singing. A little." She still refused to admit she had been dancing.
Felix laughed, but it was kind laugh. Directed more at the situation than at her, but it still caused her cheeks to burn in embarrassment. "How do you even know a song like that?"
"Vanellope made me a mix CD," Calhoun shrugged, turning back to her pasta pot. Along with making him a pie, she was also attempting to make a spaghetti dinner. She stirred the noodles for a moment, and pulled them slightly out of the water. They were badly clumped together, no hope of them coming apart anytime soon.
She threw the wooden spoon into the pot, crossed her arms, and plopped into a nearby chair. Frowning, Felix hurried over to her and placed his hands on her leg.
He looked up at her. "You're not cross with me, are you?"
With her mind still too preoccupied with the food, she blinked as if just registering that Felix was there. "What?"
"I didn't mean to come over so early, and I did knock," He rambled. "I just-"
Before he had a chance to continue, Calhoun had lifted him up and pressed her lips against his, a way she had quickly learned could shut him up. When the kiss broke, she placed him on her lap. "I'm not mad at you."
"Then what-"
"I just really wanted to make you a good dinner tonight. I mean, what kind of a wife can't cook or bake or..." She trailed off, sniffing the air. "Do you smell that?"
Before Felix even had a chance to answer, Calhoun shot up, knocking him to the ground. She quickly threw open the oven door and nabbed the baked treat out from it. She was thankful she had still been wearing her gloves, 'cuz she had completely forgot about them in the moment.
Black smoke covered the room, making it impossible to see anything, but she was pretty sure she already knew what the pie looked like. When the smoke had finally cleared, Calhoun was staring at a dark lump of coal that she assumed was her pie.
She groaned and spouted a few choice words before falling back in her chair. She looked over at Felix, who had cautiously stood a few feet away from her. Covering her mitt hands over her face, she groaned again, pulling them off by biting the tip. After a moment, she gave her husband a sad smile. "Sorry, Felix."
"For what?" He asked, slowly inching closer to her.
She sighed. "I had a bad work day today," She admitted. Sometimes Calhoun had great days where every other player made it to the top, and other days, like today, she was stuck with rookies who got eaten within the first few minutes of gameplay.
"It always get to me, I'm afraid," She shrugged. "Sorry you had to see me lash out."
"Hey, that's what I'm here for," He said, lifting her chin with a single finger. "For better or worse, right?"
"Sometimes I feel like all I give you is the worse."
"Even at your worst," He said. "You're still a million times better to me."
She smiled slightly. "Dammit, Felix! How do you do that?"
He grinned a bit cheekily. "It's a gift."
Smirking, Calhoun lifted him up and kissed him again. They lingered like that for a moment, before she pulled away, and looked over at the oven. "Sorry about your pie."
"No worries," He pulled his hammer out, his honeyglows only slightly faded. "I can fix it!"
She looked over at the pie, imagining the rock hard center it would still have, despite Felix's best efforts. "Mmm...I'm pretty sure it's beyond repair."
He hopped onto her lap. "Want to go to Tapper's instead?"
"In a second," She said, letting her head fall back. Since she was so busy preparing a nice dinner for tonight, she didn't get her usual nap in.
"So," Felix spoke up after a moment, getting comfortable. "Singing, huh?"
Her head shot up and she gave him a slight glare. "You forget what you saw today."
He grinned, messing with his cap. "Easier said than done, ma'am."
"Try," She said, putting her head back down.
"If I may, though," He spoke up again. "You are the most amazing singer, and dancer, I have ever seen."
She snorted. "Yeah, well, you're just a little charmer."
"On the contrary," He countered. "Just because I'm a nice guy doesn't mean I'm at all charming."
"Well, I suppose I should be flattered, then."
"I thought flattery didn't charge your batteries," He gave a sly grin. Calhoun couldn't ever recall that expression on his face before, but she decided just then that she loved it.
"True," She admitted. "Flattery more so short-circuits my batteries." She raised him up by his collars, her sly grin making his own disappear. "Especially coming from you."