A/N I'm updating early! For one thing, it's because I'm just so excited to actually be able to update whenever I want (provided that I actually have a chapter ready) that I couldn't resist, but mostly because I wanted to thank all you awesome fellows who've given reviews over the past few months.

I haven't been able to respond lately because the computer I was stuck with wouldn't allow me to login and I had to go to the library to update.

I can't remember who I responded to/who I didn't, but I'm able to respond now and I want to thank you all anyways, and let you know how much your reviews mean to me. Thank you! And because I dislike when all a chapter is just one big author's note, you guys get a chapter thrown into the mix!

As for the chapter, well, when I heard that Bruce, the goshdarned Batman, couldn't cook, I just had to give it a go, even though I know that others have done this before, and have probably accomplished it better than I ever could, but oh well.

As always, I hope you enjoy!

XxX

"So," Jason said, looking at the recipe cards on the counter in front of him, "shrimp scampi and apple pie?"

"That's what I said," Bruce answered, digging through one of the cabinets, the clattering of pots and pans nearly making his response inaudible.

Jason wrinkled his nose. It was no secret that Bruce Wayne couldn't cook to save his life.

That didn't seem to stop the man from trying though and with Alfred was off chauffeuring Dick to Sasha Prince's (dreaded) birthday party, this was the perfect opportunity for him to make dinner.

"You sure you don't want to try something else?" he asked. "Like spaghetti? And maybe one of those cake mixes that come in boxes? We don't have to tell Alfred where it came from."

Bruce emerged from the cupboards, arms full of several pots, which he set on the stove, and gave him exactly the kind of frown such a suggestion deserved. "Alfred will know exactly where it came from," he informed him. "I already told you what we're making. That's final."

"Suit yourself." Jason shrugged. He squinted at the recipe card for shrimp scampi, before watching Bruce's preparations, filling the pot with water, setting it on the stovetop to boil, getting out the stick of butter to go in the pan with the shrimp. "Are you sure you can even make this?"

"It was my mother's recipe."

"What?" His mother made shrimp scampi? That sounded… weird.

Bruce stared at him, package of shrimp in one hand, the scissors he was going to open said bag of shrimp with in the other hand. "The apple pie. It was my mother's recipe."

"Oh," Jason said, because what else was there to say to that? "I thought… I thought Alfred did all the cooking around here." Or at least that he did all the cooking when he was around here to put a stop to Bruce's culinary experiments.

Bruce dumped the contents of the bag into a pan, crumpling the bag and tossing it into the garbage can. "Not when it came to that pie. No one made pie quite like she did." His face became wistful for a brief moment, before switching back to steel. "Chop the apples, Jason!"

"We don't even have a pie crust yet!" Jason protested.

Bruce cracked his knuckles. "Leave that to me."

Ten minutes later and, aside from the mess that seemed to have magically appeared on the counter, there didn't seem to be any progress made.

The… crust, if it could even be called that stubbornly refused to be anything more that a wet, sticky ball of goo. "Isn't it supposed to be dry?" Jason had asked, prompting Bruce to add more flour, which resulted in a dry, flaky dough that wouldn't stick together… no matter how much kneading it received.

Jason had finished chopping the third apple, tossing the bits into the bowl they had placed on the counter for that express purpose.

Bruce had already turned away from the dismal pie crust, either deciding it was good enough for now or giving up on it completely, instead moving to stir what was in the pan.

The scent was already beginning to waft and Jason breathed deep, his mouth watering. Despite his earlier misgivings, if this tasted as good as it smelled, then he just might be willing to admit that Bruce actually could cook.

He smirked. Like that would ever happen.

Still, he peeked at the crumbly dough, it didn't look like that was likely anyways.

"How're those apples coming, Jason?"

"Um…" Jason took another glance at the recipe card. "There are supposed to be… three? No… six apples… and… oatmeal?" He made a face. "I didn't know oatmeal went into apple pie!"

Suddenly, the idea of pie seemed a lot less appealing.

He puckered his lips and shook his head at Bruce. "Oatmeal doesn't go in a pie!"

"It goes in that pie." Bruce gestured with his eyes, then cursed as his attention was drawn back to the sizzling mess in front of him.

How had he managed to let it burn while he was watching it?

Yeah, Bruce wasn't going to be improving any time soon.

He tossed the rest of the sliced apple into the bowl and turned.

"You sure you got that under control there, Bruce?" he asked.

Bruce faced him and Jason's eyebrows shot towards his hairline. There was fire in his eyes. "Yes," he said firmly, pointing with the spoon. Something in his growl suggested otherwise.

His eyes, however, challenged Jason to contradict him.

Jason didn't.

"This is going just fine."

"Okay." Jason held his hands out innocently.

Bruce eyed him suspiciously for several seconds, before turning back to the pan. "How're those apples coming?"

"Done."

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows before leaving his post at the stove, and gently pushing Jason aside to reach the cabinet over his head, knocking several spices aside in his haste.

Jason stared at him as if he'd lost his marbles. "What are you doing?"

"Cinnamon." Bruce grasped the tiny spice shaker.

"I could have done that!" Jason protested, as Bruce measured out a careful teaspoon.

Ten minutes later and Jason was sitting at the large dining table, crunching an apple and reading the latest issue of Daredevil he'd picked up after school the day before, having decided that it was best to let Bruce have at it himself.

Actually… it was more like Bruce had come to the conclusion that he was perfectly capable of achieving success on his own and had sent Jason out to do as he saw fit.

Within reason, of course, he'd been sure to add.

No taking the Bat-cycle out for a spin or blowing anything up.

The guy knew how to take the fun out of anything.

Still, if it meant a chance to get out of the kitchen, Jason would be willing to put up with a little boredom.

Besides, if one failure hadn't taught the man he couldn't cook, he really wasn't sure what would.

Best to just let this run its course and deal with the consequences later, he figured.

Something furry nudged his knee and he peered under the table.

"Ace!" He rubbed the dog between the ears. Ace whined happily, tail thumping the table.

"Bruce is cooking," Jason told him. Ace whined again. Jason laughed. "Yeah, I know. But maybe you'll get the scraps. If anything's edible, that is."

Bruce finally emerged from the kitchen and Jason was a little surprised at how… in one piece he looked, minus the frustration clearly written across his face.

He'd half expected him to be a little… singed to say the least.

"So…" Jason was almost afraid to ask. "You done?"

"Yes." He rubbed his hands off on the dishcloth he'd brought with him.

"Oh." Jason's heart plummeted along with his stomach. He'd hoped that maybe it had disintegrated somehow, but, as fate would have it, he wasn't going to be that lucky.

"Don't look so disappointed." Bruce frowned at him and tossed the dishcloth on the counter. "You might actually like it this time."

Jason snorted, but had the wisdom to remain silent when Bruce shot him a withering glare.

And pigs would fly.

It turned out to be worse than he thought.

He'd managed to burn the pasta. Half of it was sticking to the bottom of the pan. And pasta was supposed to be so easy too! Jason had even managed it before!

The scampi sauce was even worse.

He was sure half the spices Bruce had used didn't even belong in a sauce. And the shrimp… the shrimp had somehow ended up as shriveled pink knots. How had that even happened?

Jason stared at it for what seemed like a long while.

The pie wasn't much better, sitting on the counter, waiting to be put in the oven, as Bruce had been obviously too hard at work trying (and failing) to get the scampi cooked.

Jason poked at it suspiciously, before taking a quick whiff and recoiling in horror.

Figured Bruce would end up using chili powder instead of cinnamon.

"Bruuuce!" he whined. "You used chili powder?"

"What?" Bruce's brow actually crinkled in consternation as he hurried to examine the pie.

Sniffing it briefly, he gagged and staggered backwards. "I thought…" He broke off into a fit of coughing. "We can't eat that," he said, recovering himself.

"So get rid of it," Jason said. He had his doubts that it would be edible even for Ace. "We can just toss it out and," he grabbed the phone, holding it out, "we can always call out for pizza."

XxX

Alfred stepped in the door, following closely behind a worn out Dick and sniffing the air cautiously. "My word, Master Bruce, what have the two of you been up to?"

"It's just pizza, Alfred!" Jason crowed, looking absolutely victorious as he rushed out to greet them. "Domino's! Pepperoni and cheese!"

"Pizza?" Dick raised his eyebrows in surprise. They almost never had pizza, especially not the restaurant variety. Alfred's cooking was amazing, yes, but this was a welcome surprise. "I could definitely go for some of that."

"Hmph." Alfred inhaled again carefully. "It smells like a bit more than just pizza, young sir."

"Oh, that." Jason waved a hand carelessly through the air. "Just… Bruce's cooking." Noticing their expressions, he hurried on, "But it's okay now! Nothing ruined… this time."

"I see," Alfred commented dryly, even as the corner of his mouth twitched. He shook his head. "Ah, Master Bruce," he sighed, slipping past Dick and Jason to head to the kitchen, "will you never learn?"

Dick shared a glance with Jason. "I don't think he will."

XxX

A/N Okay, the whole thing with the cinnamon and the chili powder actually came very close to happening me once before. I wasn't make apple pie, but it was some other dessert, and I, with my head in the clouds as usual, grabbed the chili powder instead of the cinnamon. Fortunately, I caught myself before taking that mistake a step further, but afterwards, I couldn't help but laugh over what might have happened if I hadn't stopped myself.

As always, please review and I'll have the next chapter up sometime early next week!