Critiques always welcomed.
Cupcakes, part 3
By Ren
Stumbling through the door, I peered around the empty kitchen expecting Emmett to be standing nearby. No dice. I stepped out of the way as Edward glided around me, toting the plastic bag heavied with our cupcake-making ingredients.
After emptying the bag and setting everything out, he picked up the box and started reading the directions. Swiftly he moved to a door and opened it, peering into a very, very sparse panty. I gasped softly; the pantry was any cook's dream. There were so many shelves, so many places to put things and organize things, it actually made my heart crack slightly to know such a beautiful kitchen was wasted in a house full of vampires.
Edward took down a couple of bowls from the one shelf that held a few very basic things. The spatula still lay innocently on the counter. Tearing my eyes away from the beautiful pantry, I stepped back from the counter as Edward approached. He held out the bowl to me. I just stared at him.
"Aren't you going to start?" Beautiful velvet.
"No. You're baking. I'm helping. So get to it." He just froze and stared at me, assessing if I were serious or not. And I was. I still had lemon squares to bake when I got home.
"So… what do I do?" I bit my lip to keep from smiling, and gestured to the box of powder.
"There are directions on the box. Just read them and follow." Edward looked warily away from me and glided to the counter where he picked up the box. He smoothly scanned over the directions, then opened the box and poured the powder into a bowl. He measured out the oil and water, but hesitated with the eggs. "Bella?"
"Yes?" I stepped over beside him to watch his progress.
"I… don't think I can crack the eggs… without shattering the shell." Oh. I hadn't thought of that. The idea sent a soft shiver through me – I wasn't a whole lot more sturdy than the eggshells when compared to vampire strength. Without a word, I took the two eggs from his slender, cold fingers and snapped them smartly on the side of the bowl. Peeling back the shell, I let the goop drip into the bowl and repeated the process for the second. Sticking a wire-whisk into the bowl, I stepped back and handed the bowl to him.
"Mix."
"Done." I blinked.
"What?"
"Finished. It says 'mix by hand for 300 strokes, or until batter is smooth without lumps.' " I peered over the rim of the bowl, and sure enough, everything was finely blended.
"Well… that… didn't take long…" Edward just cracked his devastating half-smile in my direction in response. Glancing away, I looked around the antique'd kitchen. I stared at the oven, contemplating, and then pointed. "Does it work?" Edward just glanced down at me and shrugged.
"Let's find out?" I swallowed heavily. Was he serious? I wasn't even sure I knew how to work an oven that old.
"You know, for money not being an issue, I'd think you'd have an up-to-date kitchen."
"Bella, no one really needs the kitchen, and on the off-chance a visitor came by, they wouldn't really come into the kitchen, much less inspect our oven."
"But this looks like it came from the 18th century!"
"It probably did." And he expected me to somehow bake instant, 21st-Century cupcakes in it. Stupid vampire.
"Okay, well, since that's sort of your era, why don't you turn it on? Besides, if it blows up, you're indestructible."
"Fire, remember?" I rolled my eyes. Somehow, I didn't think it would be quite as bad as being dismembered and ignited. His eyes were watching me curiously, a sparkle in their ocher depths.
"Okay, fine, I'll try and turn this behemoth on." Carefully I approached the old chunk of iron. Edward watched me from a careful distance, amused.
"You don't really think it will explode, do you?" Suddenly, he sounded worried, and started to step forward. "I've never heard of ovens exploding before… if there is a chance, then maybe I should…"
"Edward, ovens don't explode. Not unless you put gunpowder in them. I can turn it on." First we fought over who didn't turn it on. Now we were fighting over protecting the other one. Incredible. Edward bit down on his bottom lip, watching me nervously as I turned away to inspect the oven. "Actually, Edward… maybe you should turn it on."
"Why's that? Do you think it will-"
"Not explode. I just don't know how. I only know how to work modern appliances." Edward nodded and walked over and leaned over the oven, carefully placing his nearly-indestructible body between me and a potentially lethal piece of iron. His quick, cold hands fiddled with it, starting up the fire. We watched, and waited, leaning over the warm iron. Waiting to see if it would work, waiting to see if it would…
"Boom!"
My heart stopped. The ground rushed up to meet me. I was sure there would be fire everywhere. Edward! Was he alright? Would the fire hurt him? My head swam as my heart pounded erratically. And then, I felt something cold on my face. Maybe it was death. I always thought when you burned to death, it would be hot.
"Bella? Bella are you alright?" The room was shaking but I could hear Edward's voice. Hands. They were Edward's hands on my face, on my neck, pressing against the upper part of my chest. Why was the floor still shaking? "Bella, please breathe… take slow, deep breaths." I obeyed. Air felt nice, nice and cool against my burning lungs. I tried to tell him I was okay, I wasn't burning anymore. I choked out a soft laugh.
"What about the earthquake..?" Shouldn't we be going somewhere? I heard Edward sigh in relief, then let out a very dangerous growl.
"Hell, Emmett, you nearly scared Bella to death!" I opened my eyes slowly. Emmett? I was laying on my back on the ground near the oven – it was still in one piece – and Edward was kneeling over me. My blouse was partially unbuttoned, although not indecently, and his hands were poised over my chest. Turning my head to the side, I saw Emmett on the ground in a fit of laughter. So that explained the 'earthquake.' Edward was still seething.
"Emmett! And what would we have done if her heart had stopped!? It nearly did!" Emmett sat up slowly, smirking.
"You could always do CPR… you were getting ready to."
"That was an involuntary reaction. You know I can't really give her CPR. I don't think… I could control my strength enough…"
"Then you could always bite her." Edward glanced down at me one quick time to make sure I was in stable condition. Swiftly, he planted a kiss on my forehead, and then leapt to his feet. Snatching a frying pan out of the nearly-empty panty, he crashed into Emmett. A loud clanking was heard – I was sure it was the frying pan and Emmett's skull. I covered my ears with my hands and waited for them to finish, closing my eyes tightly.
The next thing I was aware of was a cold pair of hands over my own hands on my ears, and slowly I opened my eyes. Edward was leaning towards me, his hands gently taking my own off of my ears.
"Bella? Bella are you alright?" I nodded softly, letting him take my hands into his. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against my lips. I smiled weakly up at him, and his lips broke into that crooked grin that made my heart skip. I could feel the blush flaming across my cheeks.
Peeking around him carefully, I saw Emmett casually nudging a piece of metal with his toe. He seemed to be in tact, however…
"Is that… the frying pan!?" Emmett glanced up to meet my bewildered gaze. He smiled sheepishly – like a little boy getting caught doing something wrong. He picked up the twisted piece of metal and twirled it between his fingers effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing. To him, it probably did.
"Was. Was the frying pan. Edward has to explain this to Esme now."
"It's your face mushed into the metal. I don't see why I have to explain."
"You're the one who put it there!" Emmett just shook his head and laughed softly, pushing up onto the counter so he was sitting, watching us on the floor. After a moment, he pointed to the oven behind us. "Oven works. Gonna bake the cupcakes?" Edward snorted, irritated at being reminded of how I came to nearly die on the floor. Together, Edward and I stood up and moved back to the counter. Edward kept throwing Emmett dangerous looks, but Emmett remained completely innocent-looking, perched on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth.
"What is it," I asked Edward. Edward lowered his lips down to my ear and spoke so softly that I really had to concentrate, even at such close range.
"He's singing Yankee Doodle in his head. That means he's either thought of something he doesn't want me to know, or he's trying to plan something." His voice was like velvet against my skin. I blushed softly.
"Oh. Well, let's at least get the cupcakes into the oven before Esme kills us all. No, no wait!" I caught Edward's hand as he started to spoon the batter into the cake pan. He glanced down at me perplexed. "You'll never get the cupcakes out if you don't put the paper wrapper in first. Here." I took out the stack of wrappers and plucked one and stuffed it into the hole he was about to drop a spoonful of mix into. "Now pour, but only halfway."
We progressed like that; I would place the wrapper, he would pour the batter, until all twelve in the pan were half-full. Then I picked up the pan and set it inside the oven.
"I have no idea how long to bake them in that archaic thing. We'll just have to peek on them every once in a while." Edward nodded in agreement, then turned to look at Emmett quietly, a hint of amusement on his features. They just stared at each other for a moment before Emmett's eyes dropped to mine.
"I'm bored," he whined. "Let's do something fun."
"Such as?" Edward's voice was laced with warning; he still seemed annoyed. Not that I blamed him.
"Well, Bella's always curious, right?" I gulped. Was I? He was watching Edward carefully – that made me even more nervous. After judging that Edward wasn't going to attack him for his thoughts, his eyes dropped back to mine again, smirking playfully. "Ever shot a shotgun before?"
"Absolutely not!" Edward was practically snarling at Emmett. I wasn't sure which was more terrifying: Edward snarling and feral at my side, or the prospect of holding, aiming, and pulling the trigger on a loaded weapon. Emmett shrugged.
"Just askin'. What do you two do for fun, then?" Edward's rapidly changing expressions were almost comical. They would've been, if they weren't so dire. He went from black rage to white sheen – if vampires could have a sheen, that is. Either way, Edward's pale face went even paler and his ocher eyes widened incredulously.
"Not that." Emmett laughed, quite loudly. He glanced away from Edward and looked down at me, a different expression on his face. It was softer than before, the devilish amusement was gone. It was… well, brotherly and affectionate. Protective, even.
"Of course not… not Bella..." His voice was unusually quiet and subdued; a faint hint of a sincere smile on his lips. Curious, I looked up at Edward.
"What was he thinking to you?" Edward was still staring at Emmett starkly.
"You don't want to know," Edward spoke through tight lips and clenched teeth. That seemed to rattle Emmett from his uncharacteristically serious mood. He chuckled.
"Well you know Rose an' me-"
"That's quite enough."
"Of course." He was still smirking. I was starting to gather what he was talking about and looked away before they smelled the blush rising on my cheeks. Cupcakes. Cupcakes. Think only of cupcakes. Not about Rosalie and Emmett, not about decorating Edward's cupcakes – I couldn't stop the blush and I just winced when both boys turned curious looks on me. I tried to busy myself with the cupcakes and pretend I didn't notice. I was so grateful Edward couldn't read my mind, though I was sure if I looked to him now he would have that deeply unsatisfied look on his face: the one that distinctly said he wished he could read my mind. Like I needed another way to be humiliated.
I opened the oven door slowly and peeked inside. The little mini-cakes were starting to rise, but nowhere near finished.
"Well, I'd say they have another twenty minutes or so… what would you like to do until then," I asked as I closed the oven door and turned around to face them after carefully composing my face. Emmett started to say something, but then stopped. He sniffed the air.
"Why does… it smell?" Smell? Inconspicuously, I sniffed myself and heard Edward chuckle at my side. "It smells like… cabbage." Emmett's eyes suddenly locked onto Edward, a wide sort of terror locked in their depths. "No. You didn't…"
Edward only casually shrugged. In the time it took me to blink, the door was swinging closed and Emmett was gone.
"What… just happened?" I heard a howl resembling a wounded bear echo from outside.
"Emmett just realized where the cabbage went." He leaned down and kissed my forehead, wrapping his arms around my waist. He was leaning casually against the counter, and seemed quite content to take advantage of our Emmett-less situation. Who was I to object? I snuggled closer.
"And where was the cabbage?" I closed my eyes as he pressed his lips gently over each of my eyelids, touching kisses along my cheek… my jaw… and then my lips. Seconds later, he broke the kiss only long enough to whisper to me.
"His jeep."
