A/N: Prompt for this one was Eddy reflecting on his personal progress, though I wrote more to the spirit than the word.

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Eddward nearly dropped his bags when he walked into the kitchen, staring with wide eyes at the scene before him. The trays of brownies and cookies he'd left were no longer carefully arranged by flavor but by… he wasn't sure. Eddy was still at whatever new system he'd invented in Double Dee's fifteen-minute absence, grinning ear-to-ear as he examined baked good after baked good and discarded them into whatever pile he'd decided they belonged in.

It said something to the surreality of the situation that Eddward turned to Ed, who was sitting at the table, splattered in paint and munching on a brownie. There was a haphazard pile of goodies in front of him, going to show that despite the chaos of the rest of the surfaces in the room, Eddy was taking care with most of the food. Catching his look, Ed shrugged and declared around his snack, "He was like this when I walked in, Double Dee. Like a man possessed."

For his own part, Eddy ignored them, swooping like a bird of prey upon the last tray yet untouched. That kicked Eddward into gear and he stepped further into the room, hiking up his bags for lack of anywhere to set them down, and demanded, "Eddy, what on–"

"Quality control, Double Dee," Eddy cut in, turning that grin upon Eddward; he sounded almost giddy.

Brow furrowed, Eddward said, "I don't understand, Eddy."

"I dropped a cookie I was working on," Eddy said, tongue darting across his lips like he was tasting the words. "On the floor. And it didn't look bad– landed with the frosting side up, can you believe it?– but I thought– 'I can't offer this to customers.'"

Eddward waited but Eddy didn't go on, just looked at him expectantly. There was something there in those words that Eddy wanted him to hear, something Eddy couldn't quite say. Even as far as he'd come, it was still hard for Eddy to say things. Still, it was there, ringing in Eddward's ears as if from far away. If he could only–

"Aww," Ed piped up. Eddward glanced his way to see him giving Eddy the sort of look he usually reserved for small animals. "Our little man's growing up."

"Who asked you," Eddy snapped– tried to snap. He was still grinning too hard, even as he crossed his arms and ducked his head. He looked from under his eyelashes back at Eddward and, yes, Edward got it now.

Not bothering to fight a smile of his own, Eddward shifted the bags again and asked, "So, the cookie you dropped?"

"Fed it to Ed with the rest of the rejects," Eddy said, grin twitching impossibly wider. Without prompting, he added, "I warned him."

Ed flashed an okay sign, mouth now full of cookie.

"And the rest of these piles?"

Eddy walked him through– the perfects, the almost-perfects, the do-overs and, seemingly his favorite, as he pointed it out with something like awe shining in his eyes, "the discount pile!"