Ryan's nostrils woke him up. But it wasn't the smell of banana shampoo in Summer's hair that did the job like every morning. In fact, Summer wasn't even in bed at all. The aroma of fresh food in their apartment was quickly making its way through the rooms and it seriously began to worry him.

Maybe someone broke in? No, no one would break in…go back to sleep. It's probably just Summer cooking...

Ryan turned over in the bed and brought the comforter over his head.

Oh come on, who am I kidding? Someone broke in!

Ryan flung the covers off of him and rushed out of the room, grabbing a baseball bat from behind the dresser on the way. He slowed down once he reached the hallway, scanning the area subtly with his narrowed eyes. Finding nothing suspicious, he began to slowly make his way towards the kitchen where the racquet was. His back to the wall, and his head tilted to one side, he tried to catch a glimpse of the happenings in the kitchen.

"Summer…?" he called out carefully.

"Yeah?"

"Are…you okay?" he asked, moving in the direction her voice was coming from.

"Yeah, honey, come here! I made breakfast."

Ryan stopped in his tracks at the words.

Shit.

He knew this day would come. The day she'd want to experiment.

I don't wanna eat her food… why did she have to be so amazing in bed? I can't risk losing that…but I don't wanna lose my life to food poisoning either… Goddamn it, who knew life with Summer would be so complicate?

He sighed and set the bat down next to the front door, running his hand over his face several times. He unenthusiastically inched into the kitchen, literally forcing his legs towards it.

"Ry, wait, come check this out." She pointed frantically at the frying pan in her glove-covered hand. "I made omelets!"

Ryan groaned and threw himself against the kitchen counter, burying his head in his hands. "Omelets? You made… omelets?" he whined.

Why omelets God? I swear I was this close to going to church last Sunday… but they were playing reruns of the Liverpool game and I just couldn't miss seeing them win again… but you saw me, I was praying… I pray everyday that Summer's in a good mood… But omelets? It took me a year to perfect the art of making omelets! That woman burnt pop-tarts for Christ's sake!

"Come on, it's gonna get cold if you don't eat it right away…" Completely oblivious to his resentment of her food, she slipped the omelet onto a plate and handed it to Ryan, smiling widely. Ryan glared at her with pursed lips and gritted teeth.

What's she so happy about? She's not the one with Jesus and Moses wanting her to burn in hell... Why does she have to make food? I never forced her into letting me put her manicure! Not that I wouldn't put the perfect manicure – better than the 10 dollar one she gets down the street at that slut Marsha's place anyway.

Ryan snatched the plate from her, making her cringe and look at him weirdly. He forced a smile at her until she turned around – that's when his smile faded and he began grunting incoherent things to her. Things that were most likely better left incoherent.

Summer turned back around and smiled warmly at him, giving him a quick kiss before she made her way to the stool opposite him and settled down. Resting her elbows against the table, she placed her chin on the back of her hands and stared intently at Ryan.

Ryan felt her eyes burning on him as he stared down at his distorted omelet.

Why is she staring at me? I'm not gonna eat this…stuff… anytime soon… not unless she tries it first…

His eyes slowly traveled up to hers, penetrating into them. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Oh, I'm not hungry. I made them especially for you!" She smirked widely and leaned in over the counter, kissing him swiftly before sitting back down. "Come on, eat! I wanna see your reaction."

If you wanted to see me throw-up all over the kitchen, which by the way, took me 3 hours to clean yesterday, you could've just shoved a bottle of vodka down my throat.

Ryan poked at the eggs with his fork, hoping that maybe if he left it like that for long enough, it would disappear. Summer was grinning from ear-to-ear, waiting for him to take a bite.

Of course you're smiling. You don't have to eat this crap.

He finally did it. With one, fierce force of his fork against the omelet, he cut a small piece off the corner and was about to stab it with his fork again when something caught his eye.

"Summer, it has a hair in it!"

Summer groaned and leaned forward, squinting down at the food. She lowered her long, shiny, perfectly-shaped nails to the eggs, and with one tug, she removed the misplaced hair and it fluttered off her fingers to the groaned.

"Are you kidding me? I'm not gonna eat this! It had hair in it!"

Summer glared at him with wide eyes. "Yeah! My hair! That's like… cleaner than your fork!"

That's probably true… No, wait! Shut up, you're so close to winning this one!

"I'm not gonna eat this. It's like eating off the ground."

Summer gasped and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're comparing my hair to the floor?"

"Well not the floor of this apartment which is perfectly clean – cause I vacuumed it last night!"

"That's cause you don't let me vacuum anymore after two of your wife beaters got sucked up by that weird vacuum. I'm telling you, it doesn't like me!"

"Yeah, well neither does the broom, or the mop, or the sponge. We have a conspiracy going on here! Call up Julius Caesar, would you!"

"Oh don't try to act all smart now. Just cause I don't know what the hell president's name was Julius Caesar doesn't mean I can't kick your ass!" Summer snatched the plate away from him and threw its contents into the garbage. "You know what? You don't deserve my omelets! I'm never gonna cook for you again."

BINGO! And now for the bonus round...

"Come on, Summer. You know I love you," Ryan whispered gently, getting up from his stool and approaching her. He snaked his arms around her waist, but she still refused to look at him. "I saw a ring that day at tiffany's that was just screaming your name…"

Summer's eyes popped up to meet his. "Really?"

Ryan nodded.

Like I would be caught dead at tiffany's…but according to Summer, anything with a diamond on it screams her name.

"I love you too." She pouted her lip out, leaning up and kissing him. "I'm sorry about the omelets, I'll make it up to you."

"Oh yeah?"

Summer smirked and linked her hand in his, pulling him into her. "Uha… I saw a bed in the bedroom that's just screaming your name…"

Enough said.