muffins

She's standing in the kitchen when he gets home, hair mussed, flour on her cheek, disaster covering the counter tops.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked, chuckling and placing his keys on the counter.

Fixing him with a stern glare, hands on her hips, she responds with nothing more than a grumble.

Feeding his hands around her waist and placing his chin on her shoulder he waits for the response he knows is coming.

"Muffins, Harvey!" She says with exasperation, uncrossing her arms and turning around to face him.

"The great Donna Paulsen, capable of leaping buildings in a single bound but is brought down by flour and eggs," He says laughing, wiping flour from her nose before placing a kiss to the end, watching her crinkle it in response.

"This is ridiculous."

Pulling her just a little bit closer and pressing his forehead to hers, he smiles and says. "Don't worry, Donna, I'll do the bake sales for the kids if you direct the plays."

He knows the frustration has left her when she sighs at him with a smile.