Another prompt, finally thought of a way to upload it here. Pure fluff.

"Meg?"

"What's up, angel-face?"

"Can I borrow this?"

"…You do know what borrow means right?"

"Can I have it then?"

Meg put down her book and sighed. "Why…?"

"I feel that a request for cake mix is fairly self-explanatory."The baker wannabe gave a small smile.

Meg sighed, "Fine, knock yourself out." she paused, "Donottake that literally."

Castiel broke into a grin and jumped off into the put the book down.

10, 9, 8, 7 CRASH!

Well he was getting better, last time she only got to nine. Meg surveyed the damage. Luckily he had only dropped three eggs and not the whole carton. However it looked like he did manage to get the bag open before dropping the bowl and so he was covered in a chalky-brown powder. The mixing bowl was smashed, oozing egg whites for blood. Too bad, that was the last glass one.

Meg sighed, "Alright, you get a towel, I'll get the broom, careful of the glass."

Cassie boy looked more upset than usual. "Sorry Meg…"

She sighed, truth was she was pissed off beyond belief, but telling him that would only end in making him more upset and probably more messes. "It's fine."

She made quick work of sweeping up, and within ten minutes the entire floor was clean. She ran the towel under warm water and gently washed her roommate's head. They hadn't known each other long, but they had a sort of don't ask don't tell agreement. She knew almost nothing about him, but a few weeks ago an old family member of his had called, his name was Dean. After that Castiel disappeared for a few day and came back drunk off his ass and hitchhiking in a beat up old Volkswagen. She didn't ask. He didn't tell.

"Okay, all clean." She patted his head.

"I would like to try again."

Meg clenched her jaw, "Why?"

"That's not important."

"Alright then…" she took a deep can't kill him, the rent on this place is way too high."Well, we'll do it together."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"That's not important."

"Look, Cassiepie!" She crossed her arms, "either you let me help or you don't do it at all. I willnothave you turning this kitchen into a battle ground."

"…Fine." She wanted to smack the frown right off his face.

Five minutes later she had a recipe for chocolate cake off the internet. She kept the kitchen well stocked in case she suddenly had a craving for…well, chocolate cake. "Alright, one and three fourths cups of flour." she instructed, watching as Castiel measured it out. "Careful, don't pour it too fast."

She measured out two cups of sugar and added it in herself. Then she handled the smaller quantities, knowing Mr. Easy bake was sure to mess them up. "Stir that together, I'll put this stuff away."Meg carried the flour and sugar to the pantry.

There was a small crack and she whirled around. Her room mate had cracked two eggs with one hand and in one fluid movement they were in the bowl. "Where onearthdid you learn to do that?"

"Sabrina."The other smiled as if this were the most natural thing in the world to say.

"You mean like Audry Hepburn?"

"Yep."

Meg rolled her eyes, usually she'd make a gay joke but it would be wasted on him since he didn't even know what gay was. She put some water on the stove and told him to add half a cup of vegetable oil. Then all that was left was one cup of boiling water and a cake pan. In no time they had it in the oven.

"Well good job, Sugar," Meg chuckled at her own pun.

He didn't seem to get it because he was beaming in response. "We make a good team."

"I guess we do." She let herself give him one of her rare, genuine smiles.

"Now we wait."

"Sure." She went back to her room to read. Her mind kept slipping back to this morning's events. What kind of guy was her room mate after all? He wasn't…normal. He didn't even know how to bake a cake after all. He never understood pop culture references, and what was with that ridiculous trench coat? He only took it off on laundry day—which didn't come often enough for the amount of time he wore it—and sometimes he would sit quietly for hours. Maybe he was some sort of psychopath or something. Sure, Meg had her secrets too, but that was just your run-of-the-mill absent-parents-and-foster-care situation. This guy was weird.

But at least he sort of liked her. At least she thought he did. He would sometimes say she looked beautiful after she cried—not that she cried a lot or anything—or that he couldn't do without her. Sometimes he called her his caretaker. Maybe he thought of her as a mother-figure. For some reason that didn't sit well with her.

"Meg!"

Oh god, she'd been so busy day dreaming she forgot about the cake! Meg ran into the kitchen, only to see the Pillsbury Dough boy holding out a cake with the words "Happy Birthday" scrawled in red icing on it.

Meg couldn't help it, she burst into laughter.

"Wh-what's funny?" He frowned, "I-I used red cause I know it's your favorite color…" He rubbed the back of his neck, "I hoped…it would bring us…closer."

"You're a week early!" She blurted out, but she threw her arms around him and gave him a little kiss on the cheek, "But thanks Clarence."

He actually blushed and looked away. "I-I take it you liked it?"

She grinned, "On the contrary," She kissed him softly, "You're the only sweet thing I need."