Disclaimer: Not mine.
179 Cookies
"Danny, what are you doing?"
"Making cookies."
"Why?"
"It's therapeutic."
"What has you so...antsy?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm just going to start working with Vlad starting Monday."
"Mm," Jazz murmured and picked up one of the cooling cookies. "Hey, they're not zooming off the walls."
"Yeah, I know," Danny said with some amount of satisfaction. "It's nice having food that isn't trying to eat you, isn't it?"
Jazz snickered and took a bite. A look of surprise briefly flitted across his face. "Hey, this is good!"
"Thanks," Danny replied dryly as she put gobs of cookie dough on a tray as she waited for one in the oven to finish.
"No, I'm serious!" Jazz replied. "What kind is this?"
"Hm? Oh, I took a recipe I found in mom's unused recipe can and modified it slightly. I'm quite proud of the results."
"Turning into a chemist, are we?" Jazz murmured before taking another bite.
"Baking is not chemistry. Remember that chem was my worst subject ever?"
"You're just being dramatic," Jazz teased before picking up two more cookies. "I'll leave you to being a little domestic housewife," he concluded with a grin, ducking under the spatula Danny half-heartedly threw at him.
"I am not a housewife!" Danny snapped before grumbling uncomplimentary things about big brothers.