Day Twenty One: Cooking/Baking:

Merlin could tell Arthur was nervous to go to his house for the weekend. It was the first time he would be meeting Hunith, Merlin's mother. He was scatter brained all week. Merlin had to constantly pick up after his little mistakes and mishaps; like leaving the coffee pot on, putting too much detergent in the wash, knocking over drinks, dropping plates…Arthur was a mess.

"It's alright, Arthur, leave it. I'll clean it up," Merlin said, softly, trying to calm Arthur down. They were leaving for Merlin's house in an hour and Arthur had already managed to spill coffee on his favorite shirt, lose his shoes, and now he had knocked Merlin's coffee off the kitchen counter.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, "This is ridiculous, what is wrong with me? I mean, you don't freak out when you go to meet my father. You don't knock over cups and spill coffee down your front."

"Everyone deals with nerves differently," Merlin said. He was crouched down on the floor, a rag in hand.

Arthur scoffed, "What's your secret?" He stooped down and picked up the pieces of the mug…This would be cup number four…

Merlin shrugged, "I keep it all inside. If you don't notice, I'm all jumpy and stiff whenever we have to go to your house or see your father. He is one scary man. I mean, he is this big to do in the world, and I'm just wee little Merlin."

Arthur laughed and leaned against the counter. "Compared to your mother, I'm just wee little Arthur." His smile faded as he fiddled with his hands. "Mothers are extraordinary human beings. I mean, they bring us into the world and well, your mother happened to bring one amazing, wee little Merlin into the world. I'm afraid I'll disappoint her."

Merlin stopped mopping up the spilt coffee and leaned back on his heels. He felt warmth crawl through his veins and envelop him. Of all the things Arthur had ever said to him, this was the sweetest, most profound thing yet. He reached out and placed a hand on Arthur's, "My mum will love you. There's no way you could ever disappoint her, especially after saying that," Merlin said, glancing at the clock, "Shit, but she will punish us if we're late."

Arthur's brows knitted together.

"She won't let us eat the desserts we're making!" Merlin got up and tossed the rag in the laundry basket.

"Desserts? We-we're baking? Merlin, I don't know how to bake! Oh my God, she'll think I'm incompetent or something." Arthur looked annoyed and more nervous. Merlin was afraid he'd blow up the apartment if they didn't leave now. He knew one thing for sure…Arthur was not driving.

~o0o~

The closer they got to Merlin's house, the more anxious Arthur became. He fixed his hair in the mirror more times than Merlin could count; parting it to the right, than the left, then down the middle, only to put it back to flat against his forehead. He fiddled with his dark blue button down, buttoning and re-buttoning the top button. Merlin tried not to smile as he watched Arthur smooth down his shirt. It was a lost cause; Arthur was too adorable when he was flustered.

"What? Do I look stupid? I should've worn the sweater. Maybe I'll change real quick," he said as he turned to reach for his duffle bag. Merlin reached out and placed a hand on Arthur's thigh.

"Arthur, breathe. You look fine."

Arthur settled into his seat, "Are we there yet?"

"Oh my God, you're worse than a five year old. Yes, five more minutes."

Arthur nodded and fell silent. He didn't speak again until they pulled up in front of the house. He leaned forward and looked up at the house, "Jesus."

"What?" Merlin whipped his head around, thinking there was something wrong with the house. Everything looked fine. The garden was neatly trimmed and the rainbow of flowers danced in the breeze. The curtains were pulled back and the windows were wide open, inviting in the fresh air. The wind chimes Merlin had made when he was little still hung in the front garden.

"It's…perfect. Dammit Merlin, it's like a picture perfect country house. You didn't tell me it was so…quaint."

Merlin opened his door and stepped out of the car. He turned to look at his house; it was small and came complete with homemade pies and cakes and a white picket fence, but nothing to be that excited about. Merlin walked around to the back and pulled out their duffle bags, "It's not much, but it's home."

Arthur tilted his head, "Did you just…"

"Yes. Yes I did…it's my own Burrow."

Arthur laughed and relaxed for a second, before going straight back to fixing every wrinkle and stray strand of hair.

Merlin shook his head, "Come here." Arthur took a step towards Merlin. Merlin reached out and ran a hand through Arthur's hair, giving it that windswept look that Merlin found extremely sexy. He undid the top button of Arthur's shirt, revealing the white t-shirt he wore underneath. "Seriously, it's my mother, not the Queen. She's not going to care what you look like." Merlin leaned in and kissed away Arthur's nervous smile. "Ready?"

Arthur nodded, "Now or never, right?"

Merlin chuckled and patted Arthur's chest. He threw a duffle bag at Arthur, "Come on, tough guy."

Merlin led the way up the rock path, Arthur following close behind. The front door was open and Merlin could see inside the house through the screen door. Merlin knocked on the screen, "Mother?" He called. They waited on the porch, before Merlin opened the screen door, the hinges squeaking loudly. He beckoned Arthur forward.

The house was just as Merlin remembered. Pictures of him and his mother hung all over the walls and perched on tables. Their couch, which had dozens of pillows on it, was centered in the living room in front of the fireplace. The cuckoo clock chimed as they walked in. Merlin looked to Arthur, curious as to what he thought. Arthur's eyes roamed the room, every nook and cranny of it. His mother loved decorating and collecting rugged country cottage trinkets.

The house smelled of dough and apples. "She must've started the apple pie," Merlin stated. But Arthur wasn't paying attention; he was examining all the photos of a young Merlin. He was currently looking at a photo of Merlin and his mother enjoying a sunny day at the park.

Merlin remembered that day. It had been raining for a full week straight and they finally had a beautiful day. He had begged his mother to go to the park. She took him of course, and they spent the whole time playing on the swings. His mother took the picture. Merlin's childish look of surprise wasn't in fact faked. He had swung back and wasn't expecting his mother to stop him. She wrapped her arm around him and held the camera out in front of them, snapping the picture before letting him go.

Arthur smiled at the picture, "This is a lovely picture of you and your mum." He pointed at the picture, swallowing hard.

"It's one of my favorites too." Merlin spun around when he heard the small, soft-spoken voice.

"Mum!" He dropped his bag and in two strides, he had her in a vice-like hug. She giggled and hugged him back. She was a lot shorter than Merlin and her head rested on his chest. Her long, dark hair was done up in a bun, and she had a smudge of flour on her nose.

"Oh, I missed you Merlin. The house has been so quiet without you."

"Missed you too, mum, I have someone for you to meet." Merlin eased back on the hug and turned to Arthur. Arthur stood stock still, his nervous smile plastered on his face. "Mum, this is Arthur." He swept his hand out to Arthur, "Arthur, my mum."

Arthur stepped forward and held a hand out to Merlin's mother, "Hello, Hunith, it's nice to finally meet you." His father's stiff, business side was showing, and Merlin wished he'd let his guard down. Hunith took Arthur's hand, and then surprised Arthur, and Merlin, by pulling Arthur in for a gentle hug and a swift kiss on the cheek.

"I've heard much about you, Arthur. I couldn't wait to meet you." She held his face in her hands for a moment. Arthur's nervous smile disappeared, and it was replaced by a look of tranquility.

She dropped her hands and turned to Merlin, "So, are you boys ready to bake?" She went back to the kitchen, leaving a confused Arthur behind.

Merlin looked to him, hoping he was alright with the affection Hunith showed him.

"I like your mum," he said. "Does she greet everyone like that?"

Merlin chuckled, "Only to people she likes."

Arthur looked uncertain, but accepted Merlin's words. "Well, shall we?" He asked, a little embarrassed.

Merlin led the way to the kitchen, Arthur close behind.

Hunith was placing the apple pie on the stove when they entered. Merlin breathed in the sweet, warm smell of one of Hunith's favorite treats.

"Alright boys, what are we going to make?" She asked. She turned around, smiling wide.

Merlin looked to Arthur, who was biting his bottom lip, "Arthur?"

"Hm?" He turned to look at Merlin.

"What do you want to make?"

Arthur shrugged, "Uh-"

"What's your favorite dessert?" Hunith asked. She was rummaging through the drawers and cabinets for the odds and ends of baking.

Merlin watched as Arthur thought about it. He licked his lips and looked to Merlin. Merlin gave him a Not that kind of dessert look and Arthur smiled, "I've always been fond of peanut butter cookies."

"Perfect, have you ever baked before, Arthur?"

"Um, no…my father was always too busy to even cook."

Hunith gave Arthur a sympathetic look, "Well, we'll change that."

She took Arthur's hand and led him over to the counter. For the next hour, Merlin, Hunith, and Arthur measured out flour and peanut butter. It took Arthur a few tries to crack the egg and get it in the bowl without shells, but when he got it, his face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

By the time they finally got the batter into the oven, all three of them were covered in flour, thanks to Arthur. It wasn't like he did it on purpose, but his hands were covered in flour and just one small flick in Merlin's direction…needless to say, they were going to have to buy more flour for Hunith.