"Is it fluffy yet?"
Bond pushed the beaters around the bowl, only just managing to hide a grimace.
"How a combination of sugar and butter be described as 'fluffy' is beyond me."
Q leaned over Bond's shoulder, peering into the bowl.
"Come on, James, put your back into it," he said, planting a light kiss on Bond's neck.
"Why don't you put your back into it?"
"Because I'm holding the recipe. Time to put the egg in!"
He danced across the kitchen and Bond appreciated the view until Q came back with an egg, the wine, and vanilla. He cracked the shell delicately and poured the contents into the well Bond made in the mixture, then added the other two ingredients, looking proudly up at Bond as he did so. Bond couldn't resist leaning down and kissing him softly. There was a streak of flour across his cheekbone, highlighting the happy flush that lingered there.
"You're cheerful," Bond noted as Q skipped across the kitchen after returning the kiss.
"We're making a cake! And it's for Eve! For her birthday! And it contains alcohol! James, this couldn't be more perfect!"
Bond looked at the alcohol in question. They needed three quarters of a cup in the cake, but half the bottle was gone. Bond chuckled to himself. That explained a lot, especially as a loud crash came from behind him and he turned to see Q completely covered in flour, turning his hair white and obscuring Q's glasses.
"Whoops!"
Bond laughed as he stepped over the mess on the floor and guided Q to a chair, until he realised it was just spreading the flour over the rest of the apartment. Instead he quickly divulged Q of his shirt and pants, causing the Quartermaster to giggle in a way that Bond would blackmail him with later, and went to get new clothes. By the time he came back, Q was standing triumphantly next to the oven, which held the mixture in the baking pan. Bond looked at him.
"I did it!"
"You put the rest of the ingredients in first, right?"
Q rolled his eyes, looking gorgeous even when sarcastic, possibly helped by the fact that he was only in his underwear.
"No, Bond. I thought that your expertly beaten sugar and butter would make the perfect birthday gift for Eve without anything else being added."
The effect was somewhat lessened by his unconscious swaying, and his massive grin.
"Did I tell you I used to do cooking at school? I topped the class."
Bond raised an eyebrow.
"So I've been doing all the cooking for the past three months because…?"
If possible, Q's smile stretched even wider.
"You look positively delicious in an apron."
Bond ignored the awful pun and walked forward to kiss Q again.