Never again.

Light would never do that again.

He shoved a towel-clad, grumpy L into the kitchen. L immediately turned around to give him the filthiest look he had ever earned.

'Light-kun tricked me.'

'L-let's just forget that...that happened.'

Light turned towards the cooker, to preheat it, when he felt something hard and wet press against his back.

Could this be..? Finally?

L leant in close to his ear and started a hissed dialogue.

'Light-kun tricked L. For this Light-kun must receive revenge.'

Light started to think that maybe the fifteen minutes of hell he had endured with L in the bathroom might have been worth it after all.

'Jim! Attack!'

With that L began hitting Light repeatedly in the back with Jim's beak.

How sad, reflected Light. My closest romantic encounter with L to date has been this-him hitting me with a rubber duck.

'L! Knock it off!'

'It is not me! It is Jim!'

'L-it's clearly you!'

'It's Jim!'

Light whirled on L, grabbing Jim in the process.

'Well then, Jim is going in time-out.'

He plonked Jim in the sink.

'Jim does not like for-'

Light gave L a look that could wither metal, and even in his current irrational state L seemed to sense that now was the time to be quiet.

'Weight out the ingredients again. Cream the butter and sugar.'

L was starting to smile, a mischievous little smirk that belied what he was planning.

'If you even think of eating it-I don't care if you want to check its mouth-feel-then I shall tell Watari what you did up there.'

L immediately began weighing the ingredients. Once the painstaking process that was L weighing objects had been completed, he creamed the butter and sugar, glancing up at Light all the while as if to say 'See? I'm not doing anything bad.'

Light never wanted children. He had an L.

No, he couldn't think like that. He didn't have an L.

Not yet...

Shhh! Light told himself to stop going down this particular rabbit hole and instead focus on getting the damn cake made. It felt already like this had been the longest day of his life, and it was not yet seven.

Light took the bowl from L and beat in the eggs, making sure L was watching him. If this ever happened again, he could make his own cake. Light felt like some kind of farcical blue peter presenter as he went through the process with L.

'Now we keep beating the eggs in, to incorporate as much air as possible.'

'Why?'

'So the cake will be light and fluffy.'

'Why?'

'Becau-well a cake wouldn't be very nice if it was all flat would it?'

'Why?'

'Pass me the flour!'

L handed Light the flour, his enormous eyes unblinking.

'L, you do this part. Mix the flour in.'

'Is Light-kun sure he will not become jealous of the mouth-feel?'

'…'

L took the spoon and gently folded the flour into the mixture. He seemed a lot calmer when he was actually helping to make the cake. He would make the cutest little baker. One of those white hats would look adorable...

'Light?'

'Yes?'

'You are patting my head.'

Ah. So he was.

Retract the hand Light. Retract. The. Hand.

'I was checking there was no butter.'

'But I am wearing a towel-turban.'

Before he could become too fixated with the fact that L had uttered the words 'towel-turban', Light mumbled his excuses.

'Didn't want...buttery...towels.'

Light knew he completely deserved the look of incredulity L was currently beaming at him.

'Right! Well, I think the cake is ready to go in the oven!'

'But it is all wrong.'

'How?'

'It's not strawberry-smelling.'

L is in his twenties, thought Light. Yet he still eats like a child.

'Ok then L, add in some strawberry extract.'

He knew exactly where that was, noticed Light. Light suddenly had recollections of times he had asked L if he was wearing lipstick and L hastily denying it whilst covering his mouth.

L was eagerly unscrewing the strawberry extract cap, and placing it over the cake.

'Not too mu-'

Ok, the whole bottle. He had put in the whole bottle.

At this point Light didn't care. He wanted that cake in the oven. Cake in oven. From oven to L. Once L was done, he could get some sleep.

L sat on a chair sulking while Light slid the cake in the oven. He had denied L this particular job due to an incident with the grill a few days ago. Candy-floss sure could burn.

'Forty minutes L.'