Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world. Just my imagination borrowing them for a bit.
"Ok, it says we need to mix all the dry ingredients in one bowl," Emma called over her shoulder as she read through the recipe.
"So, the flour, sugar, and powder stuff?" Killian asked from the open pantry as he grabbed the supplies from the shelf.
Emma shrugged and took another look. "Um… no, actually. We have to save the sugar to mix with the eggs and the butter."
"And this is going to make a cake? You're sure we're doing it right?" he asked as he placed the bags on the counter and slipped behind her to read over her shoulder.
"How am I supposed to know? I don't bake." She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "This was your idea."
He smiled and kissed her nose. "Henry will love it and you know it."
"Fine," she groaned as she slipped out of his grasp and took out the hand mixer from under the sink. "But if we get stuck, we're calling my mom."
Killian reached up and pulled out a large mixing bowl. "Deal."
Emma went back to the cookbook. "First we have to cream the butter with the sugar. And the butter's supposed to be soft."
"I'll stick it in the microwave, love," he said, his head in the fridge.
"'Mix the flour and baking powder in a large bowl'," she read. "Wait, why do we need two separate bowls for this? It's all gonna get mixed together in the end, right?"
He pushed the buttons on the microwave and pressed Start. "I've no clue," he said turning back to the fridge for eggs, "but for our first time, shouldn't we follow the instructions?"
She rolled her eyes at his back. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Julia Child."
She reached for a medium bowl and started measuring out the sugar when a loud POP! from the microwave made her jump.
"What the hell?" he said, stopping the machine. He opened the door and gasped.
Butter was everywhere. The walls of the microwave were coated in yellow slime, and some dripped from the light bulb at the top. Killian blushed. "Uh… oops?"
Emma smiled. "Maybe use a lower setting next time?"
He grabbed a handful of paper towels and started wiping it down. "Yeah, maybe I'll let you use the infernal machine next time."
"Here, switch." She handed him the measuring scoop. "You do the flour in one bowl, sugar in another, I'll take care of the butter."
"Good plan."
She wet a paper towel and bent over the buttery microwave, when she heard him curse softly. "I'll, uh, be right back," he said behind her.
She turned. A light coating of flour covered the counter and the floor beneath it. His shirt and pants sported a similar white dusting, as was his hand holding the (shockingly empty) scoop. His hook, however, was buried about 4 inches into the side of the flour bag.
"Killian, what - " she started, just staring at the mess.
"Well, you didn't tell me that the flour would be packed into the back so tightly," he said, clearly embarrassed as he wiggled the attachment out. It had been a good couple of weeks since the last hook mishap; he was quite proud of how well he was adapting it for modern use.
"Don't worry about it," she said gently. "I probably would've made the same mess." He turned to get the broom as she finished up the inside of the microwave. When she looked back, the mess was mostly cleaned up, except for a small pile of white fluff on the countertop. She smirked and dipped her fingers into it.
"Hey," she said. He turned back to her, holding the dustpan full of flour in his hand. "You missed some." She reached out quickly and smeared the flour on his nose. He yelped and jumped back, spilling everything that was in the dustpan.
She couldn't stop laughing. Captain Hook, pirate scourge of the realms, was standing in the kitchen, broom tucked under one arm, with flour streaked across his face and clothes.
His shocked expression turned to a very different one as he watched her giggle. He slid over to her, settling the broom on the floor. "You have me at a disadvantage, Swan," he grinned. She tried to twist away, but before she could get far, a cloud of dusty flour exploded across her face.
Her jaw dropped. "You didn't."
He leaned close, a wide smile plastered across his face. "Oh, but I did," he said, his tone low and menacing. "Whatever will you do now, love?"
She reached her hand out blindly as she closed the distance between them. Her hand found exactly what she wanted, and she grinned right back.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe… this?" On the last word, she whipped her hand forward and smashed the raw egg deep in his hair.
He gasped and staggered back. He looked flustered, hand reaching up to the sticky goop in his hair. For a moment, she worried that she had gone too far, but he soon he recovered his smirk. "Ah, you want to play rough, eh?" he growled. He reached for the spatula that sat in the open can of frosting as he approached her, brandishing it as a sword. "I challenge you, Swan."
She laughed and backed away, reaching for another egg.
"I warn you, Jones," she threatened. "I used to be a mean softball pitcher back in grade school."
He continued his advance, unfazed. If it wasn't for the occasional drip of egg down his face which he wiped with his arm, he would have looked almost scary. An eggshell ran down onto his ear, shattering that image.
"You know I have no idea what half of what you said means," he said, swinging his "sword" back and forth for effect. "No matter! Prepare to meet thy doom!"
He thrust his spatula forward, tagging her shirt with frosting as she twisted away. She shrieked and aimed the egg, throwing it at his head. He watched as it sailed over his shoulder.
"Is that the best you've got?" He lunged forward again, smearing white cream across her cheek.
"Okay, okay!" she laughed, holding her hands up. "I surrender!"
Killian put down the spatula and leaned toward her as he grabbed her wrist. He slowly ran his tongue up her cheek, licing the frosting off as he grinned at her menacingly. More egg ran into his eye. He blinked and shook his head to clear his vision.
She took that moment to swipe some of the frosting from her shirt and smeared it on his cheek. His eyes widened, and he growled as he twisted his head quickly and grabbed her finger in his mouth. She could only watch as he gently sucked off the rest of the sugary cream, trailing his tongue around her finger, his eyes never leaving hers. She didn't realize that she had forgotten to breathe.
He released her finger from his lips and smirked, winking at her. "I accept your surrender, Swan," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
She cleared her throat. "Maybe we're not really cut out to bake," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. "We should, uh, ask my mom to make the cake for Henry."
"Agreed," he said as he captured her mouth with his.
An hour later, both freshly showered, they cleaned up the mess in the kitchen together, this time without getting quite as dirty, though she did manage to tag his cheek with a bit more flour.