A/N: Sorry for not updating! I've had terrible writer's block. This chapter is, well, short and sweet. Literally. Read on!
I stepped barely an inch closer to watch Iggy pour the flour in and he'd heard. He's some kind of divinity, I swear. "MAX! Stay back," he admonished.
"I want to cook!" I said. Iggy shook his head, cracking an egg above a bowl. As he cracked two more, he continued to talk to me.
"Unless we want nuclear fallout, you're not getting anywhere my cooking," he answered. I frowned but it was wasted on him.
"Please?" I asked.
"Nope," he said, chopping a banana quickly and skillfully. I turned to the only other person in the vicinity, Fang.
"Fang?" I tried. Nudge had taught me the Bambi eyes, and they worked devastatingly well on a certain, dark, silent, and possibly emo bird kid. He sighed.
"Iggy? Remember that thing?" Fang called out. Iggy stiffened, stopping the knife through his second banana.
"You wouldn't," Iggy countered, but I could hear his voice filling with doubt.
"Max is right here. And Dr. M is somewhere around," Fang continued.
"Fine, just let me finish the banana bread," Iggy said angrily, glaring at the third banana he was viciously chopping. I did not even want to know.
He mixed the murdered banana in with the rest of the batter and added, well, stuff. You know, powdery stuff and liquid-y stuff. I know; I am such a poet.
He poured the batter into a cake pan quickly and opened the oven. Heat blasted out, making me flinch, but Iggy didn't even notice. He stuffed the pan in and closed the door.
"I'm making tiramisu for dessert tonight," Iggy muttered. He doesn't like being blackmailed. But then again, who does?
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Hopefully, something that doesn't involve blowing up the kitchen," he answered, with his usual touch of joy and helpfulness. Not.
"I thought you liked explosions," I told him.
"Not in my kitchen."
"I think you meant my mom's kitchen."
"Same thing," he waved me away.
"So what do I do?" I asked him. He handed me a bowl with sugar and a smaller bowl filled with yellow stuff I assumed was egg yolk.
"Whisk these," he explained, checking on the banana bread. He handed me this huge electric mixer. He walked off, taking out things from cupboards. I looked at the mixer. It had this big button on it. I pressed it and it whirred. I let go, dipping the wiring into the sugar.
I pressed the button and sugar went flying everywhere. I let go of the button with a small squeak. Fang, leaning on the doorway, was trying not to laugh. I glared at him.
"What was that?" Iggy asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," I said a little too quickly. Sugar was all over the counter and the floor.
"I can smell guilt," Iggy warned, coming over. He touched the counter. "You're supposed to put the eggs in before you whisk!"
"Sorry," I said. Iggy sighed deeply. He poured the egg yolks into the bowl, and added fresh sugar. He held my arms firmly while he pressed the button with my thumb, his finger on mine.
He finally let go. The mixture had turned oozy, and pale. In short, it was anything but appetizing.
"This is how you make tiramisu?" I asked. "It was a lot less gross in my mind." Iggy rolled his unfocused eyes, taking the mixture from me. He handed me a package of ladyfingers and a see-through, square glass pan.
"You put the cookies in the cake pan. Not too hard?" Iggy mocked. I growled and he went away laughing, adding some chunky white thing I took to be cheese to the sugar mixture.
I placed the cookies carefully, filling the whole bottom of the pan. Iggy came over to me, pouring some coffee into the mix while watching me. I had covered the whole bottom. "Is the bottom covered?" Iggy called out to Fang.
Fang came over and said yes. Iggy poured the mix onto the ladyfingers. It oozed on top of it and Iggy took the cake pan away, whisking it away to the fridge.
"You actually cooked!" Fang exclaimed.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I answered, though I was smiling.
"You're welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm," Fang said with a smirk.
"Hey, lovebirds! You have to clean the sugar that's all over the kitchen," Iggy called, effectively ruining our moment. I sighed and went to get the vacuum cleaner.
! #$%^&*
I watched impatiently behind Iggy's shoulder as he took the tiramisu out. We'd already had dinner, and the flock was asking for dessert. Iggy set the tiramisu down on the counter. "It's ready," he grinned.
I smiled at him. "Make sure to tell everyone that I helped make it," I told Iggy.
"I wouldn't do that. No one will eat it if they find out you cooked," he answered.
"Iggy," I reprimanded.
"Okay! Fine! Let's tell them!" Iggy threw up his hands in the air in defeat. He picked up the tiramisu and brought it to the table, with me following closely after.
He set it down on the table and all eyes shot to us. "Max made this dessert," Iggy announced.
"I'm not hungry anymore," Angel coughed.
"What, is it poisoned?" Gazzy asked.
"We can just have ice cream!" Nudge said quickly. Iggy shot me a quick glance.
"Kidding!" he improvised. There was a loud collective sigh of relief. He left the flock to each take a portion. He walked up to me and told me the most infuriating thing anyone could say.
"I told you so."
A/N: Just to make things clear, not at all implying Miggy here. I was just focusing on their sibling-y relationship.
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Fly on!
~greysky