Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.

AN: You have werewolves-like-baking to thank for this chapter: her pen name immediately inspired this scene.

Claire sadly dumped the sack of flour onto the kitchen counter. Two weeks. Two weeks, and he had not come to talk to her or see her. After all the cruel things he had said to her, she thought she would receive an apology or at least an explanation. Her chest clenched painfully as she remembered her horrible words to him. She owed him an apology as well; after all the love and care he had shown her throughout the years, she had implied that his intentions were less than honorable. She tried to blink away the tears before they dripped into the cookie batter she was mixing, but her melancholy grasped her in a firm grip. She was ungrateful, insensitive, careless, irrational―

"Claire?" Claire's eyes widened and she almost dropped the sugar in her surprise. Turning around, she spotted the person of her thoughts standing uncomfortably at her kitchen door. She hungrily scanned him from head to toe: he was hesitantly standing with one foot in the room, unsure whether to completely enter or not. She turned back around to face her mixing bowl, surreptitiously wiping her eyes and adding some baking powder.

"Claire, your mom called me today." Claire measured out a few tablespoons of salt and added them to her dry ingredients, effectively ignoring the giant man crouched in her doorway. "She said I needed to come see you, and now I know why." He looked around the kitchen with a stunned expression on his face. "Have you been baking since I last saw you?"

Claire paused in her mixing to look scan the kitchen; she might have overdone it a tiny bit. The counters were lined with muffins: blueberry, chocolate, vanilla, marble, apple crumb, and a few others she had made up. Her eyes moved to the hundreds of cookies stacked in the corner and then to the half dozen pies sitting neatly atop the refrigerator. She had made a few Bundt cakes, complete with homemade frosting and colorful sprinkles. She knew that there were double fudge brownies with extra chocolate chips cooling in the refrigerator, and more baking in the oven. Yep, she had been busy.

"I thought you liked my baking," she answered simply.

"You know I love your baking, but that's not what I asked." She heard Quil sigh at her silence behind her and instinctively knew he was nervously running his hands through his already messy hair. She tried not to grin at the endearing picture she knew he presented or at the compliment he had given her. She had really missed him.

"Claire…."

"I'm busy, Quil. I need to finish these cookies before I start my homework." Claire again regretted her words. Here he was, standing in her kitchen finally, after two whole weeks, and she was trying to blow him off! She would have slapped herself if her hands weren't covered in flour. Quil didn't answer, so she continued on with her work, softening some butter in a smaller bowl. She heard him move to the sink behind her and turn on the water to wash his hands. Only her stubbornness and embarrassment kept her from peeking to see what he was doing. Hoping to appear nonchalant, she added the butter to her dry ingredients and started to dig her hands into the batter, folding and mixing the cookie goop. She became so engrossed in her work that she didn't sense the body heat behind her until she felt Quil's strong hands on her shoulders.

"Claire."

She held her breath and her eyes fluttered shut as she took in Quil's presence and warm whisper in her ear. She wanted to turn around and bury her face in his chest. Unfortunately, her hands were stuck in the cookie batter so she had no choice but to do nothing. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened as she felt Quil's large palms slide down her shoulders and forearms, his fingers finally entwining with hers and digging into the gooey batter. He had effectively trapped her against the counter with his body, but she couldn't bring herself to mind. They mixed quietly for a few minutes, their fingers brushing each other's as they worked together. She reveled in the feel of his deep breaths, the smell of his aftershave, and heart beat against her back.

"It's been a while since we've done this," Quil said quietly.

"Yeah." Claire was momentarily taken back in time to when she was a little girl spending the day in the kitchen with Quil. He used to place a stool next to him so that she could reach the counter. He would measure out the ingredients and then hand them to her so that she could add them to the giant mixing bowl. It took them a while and they always made a mess, but they giggled and laughed throughout the whole baking process. She yearned for the times when things were so simple, when a day baking with Quil was simply fun. Not filled with tension so palpable that she could cut it with a knife.

They quietly rolled up the cookie dough into balls and put them in the oven. Not sure what to say, Claire went to the sink to wash the dishes. After a few minutes the silence started to bother her. Why was he just standing there, looking at her? Did he come over just to bake cookies and stare at her? She had to break the tension somehow, so she dried her hands and turned around.

"Would you like a cookie? I have a lot of muffins too… I know you like the chocolate ones I make. And there are brownies in the fridge and―"

"We need to talk," he interrupted. "This can't go on any more." Claire's clenched her hands in fear. Quil's somber look didn't help her figure out what he was thinking. Did he plan on apologizing or just talking everything out? Did he want to criticize her for her stupidity two weeks ago? Claire's heart stopped as another possibility entered her mind: did he come to tell her that he didn't want to be around her anymore? Maybe the past few weeks of his absence were meant to tell her so. Did he see another side of her that he refused to be around? She had been vindictive and insensitive that night, after all. Was he disappointed in her? She knew he must be. Would he walk out of her kitchen and never speak to her again?

"Claire, you can't keep pretending that our argument a few weeks ago didn't happen. It won't just go away like that…" She started to feel tendrils of panic creeping over her chest. She had to stop him before he broke their friendship off completely!

"I'm sorry!" she all but yelled. Quil froze mid-sentence and gazed at her with wide eyes. "I'm.. just.. sorry! I shouldn't have said what I did and you don't have to worry anymore or leave. I won't act like a bitch anymore, ok? So stay." Quil continued to gape at her for a few minutes before a smile formed on his face and he started to laugh.

"Claire-bear, what are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere." Claire's frown relaxed slightly and she looked up at him.

"You're not?"

"No. I was just tired of 'giving you your space' these past few weeks and I wanted to talk to you. I had planned to come kidnap you today whether your mom called or not." He smiled and came to stand close to her. "I'm sorry, too."

"We both were out of line," Claire agreed. "But I guess that happens once in a while. We're only human, after all." Quil quietly smirked to himself and thought about just how human he was.

"I'm sorry I didn't try to see you sooner," she added. Quil slung his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. Her shirt had ridden up slightly while she had been baking and stirring, so she nearly jumped at the feel of his warm hand on her bare hip.

"It's alright. I should've been over here a week ago if the state of your kitchen says anything." He laughed when she raised her fist to thump him in the chest.

"You shouldn't be complaining. You love my baking. I made your favorite brownies, too." She laughed as she felt Quil's stomach give a hungry growl.

"Hmmm, did you? Now where would these heavenly double fudge brownies be? Just out of curiosity." Claire laughed at the playful gleam in Quil's eyes. She pointed to the refrigerator and he quickly flung its door open and began his hunt. As she gazed at him sitting happily at the counter, quickly demolishing the brownies, she couldn't help the aching warmth that spread through her chest. He quickly finished the first plate of brownies and looked up at her shyly. Grinning back at him, she brought him the next plate and sat down to eat with him. She smiled as he brushed a kiss to her temple and dove back into the chocolate treats. Oh yes, she was definitely glad that things were back to normal.

AN: The question for this chapter was "You're not (leaving me)?" Thanks again to all those who reviewed last chapter: please let me know what you thought of this chapter!