The smell of thick, harsh smoke interrupted the rodent's sleep by causing his nose to twitch incessantly. His eyes opened urgently and he lifted his head from the pillow so fast he went momentarily dizzy. Wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth, he sprinted to the door, practically ramming his shoulder into it as he turned the knob. Uttering a swear beneath his breath from the bruise forming on his shoulder, he speed-walked down the hallway, locating the source of the smoke. Bender was in the kitchen, making an unknown concoction on the stove, one hand on the frying pan and another hand holding what appeared to be a champagne flute filled with mimosa. He was humming to himself, visibly immersed in his culinary world. A cloud of smoke was emitted off whatever contents were in the non-stick fry pan.

"Bender, what the hell are you cooking?" Crow hollered. "You're gonna make the fire alarm go off!" The robot jumped upon hearing his friend's hoarse exclamation.

"Wha—Crow?" The bending unit gasped. "You're not supposed to be awake!" Bender turned off the gas stove and flicked on the vent above the stove to circulate the air and get rid of the smoke. "I was going to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess you couldn't stay put for another five minutes." He daintily drank some of his mimosa.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think I want food all over my weighted blanket." The lemming chuffed, flattered by the robot's kind gesture. "What did you make?" He walked to the kitchen island and sat on the barstool, moving his legs back and forth. Crow could hear the sound of glass plates clattering and metal cutlery jingling as the robot frantically prepared the plate of food.

"You want a mimosa with it?" Bender took a salt shaker and unscrewed the lid, pouring the entire contents onto the plate which caused the alien to raise his brows. "Your voice sounds like you spent the entire night in a screaming match."

"What do you—oh." Hearing his voice rasp and crack, he blew air out of his mouth exasperatedly. "It's because I have a fan on at night. He put one of his legs over the other.

"You've always sounded like that, though. The dry air makes it more obvious." Bender worded his compliment awkwardly. Crow beamed at him, still waiting patiently for his meal. "As for the drinks, I'm good. I'm not a morning drinker." He politely declined. "Can you make me one without alcohol?" The robot stopped in place and turned his head around, his eyes half-closed in playful dismay.

"Really?" He questioned. "You want a glass of orange juice?"

"I have a bottle of sparkling water at the bottom of the pantry closet, smart-ass." The lemming broke into laughter halfway through, making it obvious his annoyance at Bender was fabricated.

"Oh, knew that!" He lied, setting the plate of breakfast food onto the island countertop, clinking a knife and fork right beside it. In front of Crow was fried eggs with crispy edges and slices of bacon nearly charred, all topped with a heaping amount of salt. "Hope you like your eggs sunny side up."

The rodent blinked slowly at the food, taking in what he was looking at. Picking up the fork, he prodded at the pile of salt, miraculously breaking the yolk which almost solidified into chunks as the salt crystals overtook the runny, yellow-orange center. He cut off a morsel using the flat edge of the utensil and picked at it, flicking off excess sodium. Swallowing it, the egg white seemed to melt in his mouth, making his maw dry as a desert. The acidity burned at his throat, desperately waiting to get a glass of virtually anything to drink. His inner monologue of wincing was interrupted by the sound of sparkling water fizzing into a glass.

"Here's your non-alcoholic mimosa!" Bender chided, placing the champagne flute next to the plate. Without saying a word, Crow chugged the glass of orange juice and fizzy water, the carbonation stinging his nostrils, his thirst not entirely quenched. "How's the food?" The lemming used the tips of his thumb and index finger to lift a slice of bacon, the salt crumbling off of it. He took a part of it with a satisfying snap, the cured meat crumbling into a powder in his maw. Waggling the empty glass to signal Bender for seconds, the lemming ingested the bacon with a loud, dry gulp.

"Salty." Crow was brutally honest.

"We robots like things on the salty side." There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. He silently refilled the glass, his head lowered as if he didn't want to see Crow.

"Bender, are you alright?" Crow felt his heart race with anxiety that he did something to upset him.

"They were right," The robot muttered disconsolately. "I'm a terrible cook."

"What are you talking about?" Crow asked, genuinely confused.

"I know you didn't like the breakfast I made." He expressed his hurt feelings with no restraint. "You've only had two bites!

Crow didn't know how to respond to Bender's accusations. While the salt was overpowering to an extreme degree, the eggs were perfectly cooked to his liking, and he preferred his bacon on the crispy side. All it needed was less salt and a dash of pepper. The lemming was unable to explain this to Bender without potentially upsetting him even more.

"I like to cook because it makes me happy. I try to share this hobby with people I care about and all the bastards do is stare at it like it's a pile of slop and throw it out when I'm not looking." Crow never heard Bender this upset before in the entire time he knew him. He sounded discouraged and vulnerable, not hiding how he felt by deflecting and projecting onto the people around him. The shimmer in the alien's eyes faded as he realized that the Planet Express employees were complaining about Bender's food at Elzar's when he tried to talk about his love for cooking at the table. He watched Bender engage in a dramatic exit from the apartment, leaving the mimosa on the counter beside the stove.

"Bender, wait!" Crow blurted out. The bending unit turned his head, his fiery eyes piercing the lemming's desperate gaze.

"What? Are you gonna tell me everything wrong with the meal I just made?" He snarled, turning the doorknob.

"Of course not!" Crow lowered his head. "I'm not Fry, Leela, or even the professor." His voice was soft and candid. While he respected his co-workers, he was a bit frustrated with them for their attitude towards Bender's hobby. The robot's furious demeanor lessened, thanks to his friend's gentle reminder grounding him. "I'm sorry for upsetting you." Crow apologized sincerely. "Please don't go." Bender softened, his face contorting to a frown, immediately feeling guilty for acting so coldly. He approached the rodent and sat on the stool right beside him.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, not wanting anyone to know he was admitting his faults. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. The Crow I know is honest, down-to-earth,"

"Snarky," Crow added, getting a chuckle out of the robot.

"Incredibly!" He awaited Crow to make another comment. The rodent rose his head, relieved to see a relaxed look on Bender's face. "And… just nice to be around."

"I'm sorry, too." Crow apologized sincerely. "I want you to know that you cooked the eggs just the way I like them, and you cooked the bacon how I normally would. You're not a bad cook, and I've never seen you as such." The robot leaned in, attentively listening.

"Everyone has different tastes when it comes to cooking and food, though. Fry likes anchovies on pizza, but I just like pepperoni. My dad likes his steak medium, but I like mine medium-rare. You like a lot of salt on your foods, but I like just a couple of shakes." He held his breath, hoping that he didn't make the situation at hand worse.

Bender nodded introspectively, predicting that Crow wasn't finished talking and had more to say.

"That doesn't make you a bad cook by any means! You cook for your palate and that's what you're most comfortable with."

"Yeah, that's right! The 'robot food' Leela was whining about at Elzar's is the best food you could ever eat!" The lemming's heart was full seeing Bender act like his pompous, lovable self.

"Maybe I should try Sterno-niçoise next time we go there to see if you're right." Crow snickered. "To get some intense savory flavors in foods though, it's a good idea to add other spices. A few sprinkles of MSG never hurt anyone, and putting some dried mushrooms in a food processor to make them a nice powder pulls out their umami flavor." The robot's eyes widened hearing Crow speak about culinary things.

"Elzar mentioned that in his cooking show one time!" He exclaimed in childlike joy, leaping out of his seat and pacing around the kitchen island in circles. "I never considered trying that, but now that you mentioned it, I should do it next time!" His eyes seemed to glow while he talked. "Do you know how great it feels to talk to someone who understands my love for all things cooking?" Crow tilted his head to the side and nodded, enamored with the gourmand machine.

"You know…." Bender sounded shy. "I saw some boxed pancake batter in the fridge of all places."

"I keep it in the fridge out of habit—my mom would keep it in the fridge back at home. But I think I have a better idea!" Crow smirked.

"How do you have all this?" Bender breathed, marveled at how the lemming had just about every ingredient needed to make pancakes from scratch.

"I bake as a hobby." Crow opened a drawer and pulled out a whisk and spatula. "Remember?"

"Right."

"I should have a cookbook somewhere that has the recipe I use. Can you get the measuring cups?" He kneeled in front of the kitchen island on the side facing the stove, opening the cabinet.

"Uh, hello? I'm right here!" Bender called out, feigning offense.

"Huh?" The lemming popped his head up, his frizzy hair bouncing with energy. "I found the cookbook, by the way."

"I'm a calculator. I can get exact measurements. You think I'm just going to pull equations out of my ass?"

"You never mentioned that until now." Crow ignored the bending unit's dry comment.

A nervous laugh expelled from the robot's mouth. "Well, that's because sometimes I can be a bit… off." He finished the sentence with gritted teeth, hesitant to once again admit his faults.

"I don't feel like rummaging around to find the cookbook, so you better hope your calculations are correct."

"Sir, yes sir!" Bender comically saluted. "Speaking of, why did you take out cinnamon powder and vanilla extract?"

"It's how my family makes them!" Crow opened another cabinet and retrieved two mixing bowls of varying size and a sifter.

"You lemmings are so odd." The robot remarked endearingly.

"Can you fetch me a whisk? It's in the drawer on the counter next to the stove." The lemming asked kindly, attempting to pop open a large tub of sugar. Bender casually lifted his arm, making his hand rotate on its own with incredible speed. Watching in complete awe, Crow ripped the lid off the container with such force that a teaspoonful of sugar crystals flew out and onto his shirt, sliding onto the floor. He stared at Bender, red as a tomato, awkwardly holding the lid with an intense grip.

"What's the matter, sweet thing?" He teased. "My hands function as whisks, you know." His moniker hitting him like a freight train, Crow desperately wished he could go and scream into a pillow.

"N-nothing's wrong! Just… make sure you wash those hands of yours before we get to cooking."

Flicking his hands to get rid of excess water, Bender stretched his arms, ready to make breakfast alongside Crow.

"Put your calculation skills to the test, Bender!" Crow declared, flipping to a page in his cookbook that had a well-defined dog-ear. "You're going to make pancakes that will be out of this world." Determination searing his eyes, Bender lifted the unopened sack of flour and ripped the top.

"I need you to put one and a half cups of flour in the smaller bowl," Crow directed. Without defiance, Bender jostled the flour into the bowl, intensely focusing until he poured the exact amount. He briefly looked at the lemming with a subtle smile, as if he was trying to ask him if he did the right thing. Answering with a nod, Crow eyed the cookbook to find the next ingredient. "A tablespoon of sugar," Bender scooped his hand into the bucket of sugar, excess crystals falling between his fingers like sand, and chucked it into the bowl of measured flour. "A pinch of salt," Bender gave the salt shaker a couple of shakes, hoping that this time he didn't pour so much. "and three and a half teaspoons of baking powder." The machine opened the small tin and poured some of the leavening agent into his palm. He knew that he needed to be incredibly precise with this, as too much of it would make the pancakes too puffy and have a mealy texture. He raised his hand to his optics, intensely observing the microscopic grains of bicarbonate.

"What do you think?" Bender asked. He lowered his hand again and nervously watched Crow's eyes. After a couple of seconds, Crow gave a strong and confident thumbs up. Sighing in relief, he dumped the baking powder into the stainless steel mixing bowl.

"Alright. Now that we have the dry ingredients—"

"Nuh-uh-uh," Bender cut off the rodent. "You forgot the cinnamon." He uncapped the ground cinnamon container and lightly tapped it, the powder falling into the bowl like snow.

"I guess I used all my brainpower on seeing if you had just the right amount of baking powder!" Crow snorted. "Now we can move on to the wet ingredients." He took the opened stick of butter and removed the remaining wax paper coating it and dropped it into a glass bowl adjacent to the dry ingredients. "It's supposed to be three tablespoons of melted butter, but I'm just gonna melt what's left here. It'll give the pancakes more flavor." He took the bowl and brought it to the microwave, which was on the kitchen counter closest to the fridge. He placed the bowl onto the turntable and pressed a button that was meant specifically to melt—or soften—butter. The robot watched the bowl spin, anticipating to hear the butter pop and spill over, only to realize that it would never happen.

"The microwave at my apartment sucks. No matter what you put in, it splatters everywhere!" Bender grumbled.

"Do you bother cleaning it?"

"No. I barely use that thing. It's Fry who makes the most mess!" He deflected. The microwave's droning ceased and a tiny jingle played, notifying the butter was completely melted. Before Crow could open the microwave, Bender beat him to it, taking it with both of his hands. "You forgot to put a plate under the bowl. I'm not dragging your ass to the hospital for third-degree burns." Crow felt embarrassed, although it was nice to know the bending unit cared. He cleared his throat before telling Bender the next step.

"Pour one and a quarter cup of milk into the bowl," The robot twisted the cap of the plastic milk jug and tipped it over, the liquid cooling the melted butter to a tolerable lukewarm temperature. "Crack one egg," The lemming gasped upon seeing Bender effortlessly crack an egg with one hand, falling into the bowl with a plop. "I can't believe you did that! I try to crack an egg with one hand and I end up breaking the yolk or getting eggshell pieces in the egg itself." Without being instructed, Bender retrieved the small vial of vanilla extract and poured a few drops.

"Robots one, lemmings zero." Bender chided. "I'll take it from here. I'm still treating you for breakfast, after all." The alien nodded his head and remained seated, watching Bender's movements as he searched for a frying pan in unyielding adoration.

"Check the drawer at the very bottom of the oven!" He gave a tip.

"Knew that!"

Before the lemming's very eyes was a hefty stack of pancakes with crispy, buttery edges, drizzled with maple syrup, a sliver of butter at the very top of the pile all dusted with powdered sugar. The presentation was so marvelous that he felt a bit guilty knowing that he would devour it. Just minutes before he watched Bender combine the ingredients with grace; using his hand to form a well in the dry ingredients where the wet ingredients would lie, whisking the batter together with a precise speed, knowing that overmixing would produce gluten and make the pancakes dense and overly chewy. He had focused on watching the automaton flip the pancakes without flinching or fear that it would land on the ceiling or onto the floor. He was confident in his culinary skills, something that he never truly felt when making meals for his co-workers who doubted his capabilities, never giving him a fair shot.

"Are you just gonna eat with your eyes or what?" Bender commented playfully while washing the frying pan and other assorted kitchen tools used in the sink. The lemming jerked himself out of his daze and lifted the fork and knife, cutting into his breakfast. He chewed on the pancakes, stunned by the hint of spice and traces of vanilla. The syrup and butter harmonized the entire meal, leaving the famished lemming clambering for more bites. Not stopping for a single minute to sip his virgin mimosa, he kept on chewing and guzzling his breakfast. He finished his meal, dropping his fork and knife onto the plate, wiping his face with a napkin. The metallic sound startled Bender, who was drying dishes.

"You're the first person to eat my cooking." Bender whisked the empty plate away.

"Are you kidding? It was delicious!" Crow beamed. "Planet Express doesn't know what they're missing."

"You're overcompensating," The robot deflected the lemming's kind words, the countless times he found the slop that was his food rotting in a potted plant at Planet Express headquarters.

"Bender, what would I gain out of lying to you about your cooking?" The alien rodent's question made his clouded mindset a bit more visible. "Those were the best pancakes I've ever eaten," He refuted. "and it's because they were made by you." Bender looked at Crow in bewilderment. "You have this confidence, this swagger in the way you carry yourself, and you somehow incorporated that into the breakfast you just made for me!" His eye contact was intense and full of conviction. "If you ever offer to cook for Planet Express, even if they decline, just know you can always cook for me."

"Even when it's a bunch of slop in a casserole tin?" The bending unit sounded optimistic.

"Even when it's a bunch of slop in a casserole tin." The lemming couldn't help but laugh as he finished his sentence, warmed by the robot's chuckling following.

After the kitchen was tidied up, Crow and Bender awkwardly faced one another by the front door of the apartment, hesitant to initiate a farewell. They both wanted to spend more time together in their own company, away from work.

"Fry's still asleep, but I should probably go," Bender said reluctantly, placing his hand on the doorknob. "Has Leela messaged you?" He suddenly took his hand off of it, tugging at the robe he was still wearing.

"Keep it." Crow insisted. "It's too big, and I would feel bad if it collected dust. I know you'll put it to good use. She hasn't messaged me either, so I think you're in the clear." The robot sighed in relief, turning the doorknob.

"Thanks for letting me spend the night." He quickly turned away, regretting his word choice.

"Thanks for making breakfast and watching movies with me." Crow smiled, oblivious to the robot's embarrassment.

"I'll see you at work." Bender exited the apartment, ensuing his trek back home. The lemming turned around, feeling a burst of energy fill his body. He paced around the living room excitedly, fantasizing over the idea of Bender coming over for dinner, sharing his own family's recipes with him, and watching movies on the couch.

He couldn't have been more excited to go back to work tomorrow.

Bender exited Crow's apartment complex, his hardware feeling electrified. The lemming he adored liked his cooking and even shared the same taste in television! It was something, like his romantic feelings towards Crow, he couldn't fully comprehend. His familiar feelings of impulsiveness returned, feeling the urge to re-enter the apartment to ask Crow if they could do this again sometime. The rational part of his computing discouraged him, though. Returning to his apartment was the top priority, and he could always tell the lemming what he wanted to say while at work-away from their coworkers, of course.

After flying through tubes and walking down blocks, he made it to his living space. Traversing the long, narrow hallway, he hummed a folk song he forgot the name of but was about love and its intricacies. Standing in front of the door of he and Fry's home, he glowed, amazed that he and Crow's plan went swimmingly. He anticipated entering his apartment without disturbance, hiding the robe in his chest compartment and pretending to slumber in his small space. He peculiarly turned the doorknob with ease as fear prickled him. The door to Fry's area of the apartment was thankfully shut, which relieved the greedy bending unit. "He's probably still asleep," he murmured, opening his chest cavity. "Now I can—" He was startled by the sound of a door opening, an orange and light peach figure standing between the two rooms. It was Fry, wearing nothing but his underwear, wide awake, dark circles under his eyes. "Haha." He stared at his roommate and laughed anxiously at the circumstances. Their plan wasn't as foolproof as they thought it would be. "Wild night, huh?" He tried his best to deflect the obvious elephant in the room.

"Bender! Where the hell were you last night?" The human ignored his roommate's greeting, staring him down interrogatively.

Already coming up with untruths that he knew wouldn't be enough to convince his redhead compadre that the elephant in the room was in his colorful imagination, Bender braced for the worst.