MHA #8; Sunday Afternoon [12/18].

[somethingwithturquoise]

Soooo, a lot had happened last week, and don't even get Summer started on the multiple Summers of it all. In fact, she was quite ready to breeze right past that (and a little further back, too, while she was at it), generally pretend nothing had happened, and head on upstairs with a armful of baking supplies and very specific cookie cutters and baking molds to go knocking on Stark's door.

Because there were supposed to be cookies today, and cookies there would be. Like she was one to let a very weird week stop her from blatantly ignoring any awkwardness that might have occurred and just move on with her damn life.

[[ for he that lives there! ]]

Comments

[somethingwithturquoise]

"We can each do our own batches," Summer agreed, reaching for a bowl of her own, "especially since there can't be too many cookies. And you'll have to bring some to the clinic tomorrow. You can't make crab cookies and then not bring them to the clinic."

[stykera]

"Never too many cookies," Stark agreed. "Unless they have seafood in them."

"And you're right," he said, nodding as he started on creaming the butter and sugar together. "The nurses and Stabby might never forgive me if they knew." And Stabby might get, well, stabby.

[somethingwithturquoise]

"On the bright side," said Summer, cheerfully, as she took to creaming a little herself, "if he does live up to his name, you won't have to go far for medical attention!"

[stykera]

"He did have a knife when he first arrived. I haven't seen it recently." Was that worrisome or not?

"I'm trying to avoid needing medical attention. People get upset with me when things happen like getting shot a little."

Was Stark grinning a little down at his bowl when he said that? Yes.