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Mia looked down helplessly at the pot of steaming water on the stove. The bubbling water stared ominously up at her. She frowned uneasily.
She looked at the recipe again, "The...macaroni goes in next, right?"
She glanced over all the ingredients on the counter. She had checked (double checked) the amounts, the contents, and even the measuring cups (multiple times) since that morning, but she was still feeling uneasy.
Then she looked around the empty kitchen and towards the door that led to the galley, afraid someone would burst through at any moment.
There was no one in the kitchen, aside for herself. This was the perfect opportunity to practice the recipe she had spent days bugging Wire to help her with. Sure, Killer was the better cook of the two and Wire’s speciality was baking; but she was specifically trying to avoid having to ask Killer. Besides, she remembered telling Wire, how different could baking to cooking be, really? Wire had given her a deadpan look at that.
She had then spent days avoiding Killer, waiting for the ship to dock at the next island so she could try out the new recipe in the kitchen when no one was around. Killer and Kid no doubtedly were going to go out to the nearest bar on the island to get shit-face drunk. Even so, she went to the extent of telling all crew members to stay the fuck out of the kitchen once they docked, or else.
It had only taken a couple more days after that for the Victoria Punk to dock on the Summer Island of Water Lily.
Mia sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to remember why she was doing this in the first place. Oh yeah, because she fucking sucked.
The crew’s last chef was killed at sea in a battle with the marines; so they had spent the last month switching up kitchen duty until they found a new one willing to be hired on the infamous Kid Pirate crew. For the most part, everyone on the crew had managed to scrap something decent together, some teaming up to make up for certain skills and make the job easier. When it came for her to gather something up, she and the crew had the unfortunate privilege to discover how shitty her culinary skills actually were.
The complaints would not stop for two weeks.
She had tried to redeem herself the second time around but she was told, why even bother? Just accept you suck and move on. This had triggered an unknown feeling in her and after punching the guy in the face she stormed off, planning her revenge.
Mia’s eye twitched and she gripped her wooden spoon a little harder than necessary, she would prove the bastard wrong.
The sound of boiling water brought Mia's attention back to the pot and her eyes widened. The pot looked aggressively at her.
“Ahhh,” her voice wavered, hands moving around nervously, “that's probably not supposed to happen yet!”
She stirred the pot aggressively, causing some of the water to overflow and splash on her hands.
“Ouch! Damn it Wire, you could've put more details on the damn recipe!" Mia gripped the note into a crumble, searching for the solution in her mind.
Somewhere on the island in a bar full of drunk pirates, Wire sneezed. He spilled some of his booze on the floor.
Heat glanced over at him. Wire shrugged, someone must be talking about him.
They both turned back to the tables.
"How am I supposed to know when the next ingredient is supposed to go in?" She cried desperately.
It was nothing but cups, ounces, fractions, and ingredients floating around in her head in a mess of confusion.
Mia really wanted to face palm. Out of all the skills she had to fail in, it had to be the one she really needed to learn the most. Before the cook was killed she didn't realize how much she and the crew had depended on him for their nutrition. She felt a pang in her chest. She missed him.
Either way, Mia wasn't known for giving up. It was one of the reasons she was recruited on the ship. She had more than proved her capability to survive on such a harsh crew. The skills and habits coming from a rough childhood where no one cared for her. No one believed she was worth anything and purposefully tried to kill her spark.
Mia quickly learned to be stubborn.
Her life motto was: if she wasn't good at something, she would simply learn.
Well...even if she had been trying to learn to cook even a simple meal for a quite a while now.
Mia would've heard the light tap of shoes entering the galley and making its way towards the kitchen after a pause if she was focused on anything besides the boiling pot of water.
She took a quick glance at the crushed recipe in her hands and threw in the macaroni, she felt that was the next step rather than actually having read the recipe, and started to stir frantically.
"Okay good, what's next?" She actually unwrapped the wrinkled paper in her hand this time and scanned it. She hummed, she had no idea if she should put in the milk or butter next, maybe it was the cheese?
"What're you doing?"
Mia shrieked. The wooden spoon flew out of her hands, landing somewhere on the floor behind her. She had not heard anyone coming near and barely registered the recipe falling into the pot. Her first instinct was to reach into it and grab it, even as it quickly melted into the macaroni.
“No!”
Only then did she remember that the pot was still boiling.
Fortunately for her, Killer managed to react quickly enough to stop her hand from dipping in too far.
"Hot!" Mia yelped, stepping back.
Killer pulled her back against his chest and away from the stove, turning it off with the hand that wasn't currently around Mia's wrist.
"Gods, Kill! What are you doing here?” She exclaimed, clutching her fingers tightly. It stung pretty bad and it was redding quite quickly but as a pirate, she’s been through worse.
Killer said nothing, opting to quickly inspect her fingers.
Thanks to him she had barely dipped them in but because they were red and most likely going to be tender, it would be best to get them treated quickly.
Mia noticed, as she looked up at him, that the lock handle on his mask was pulled forward.The corner of her mouth twitched upwards.
"You should be more careful." Killer stated as he brought her fingers down to the sink to run under gentle, cool water.
Mia pouted up at him, knowing well enough his eyebrows were scrunched lightly under his mask.
"Don't make that face Kill,” she whined and sensed Killer taking a small breath to deny her accusations, “and don't try to deny it either." Mia deadpanned.
Killer gave a small breathy laugh, “You can’t blame me. You are very clumsy.”
Killer turned the tap water off and led Mia to the counter perpendicular to her prep table. The first aid kit was in the first drawer on the left.
Mia chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of her head with her uninjured hand. This was something that happened a lot. Mia was strong enough to have a place on the crew but sometimes she was such an airhead that she needlessly got hurt. She had the scars to prove it. No one would admit it but Killer spent many times looking after her injuries, and when minor ones were involved, he somehow always pulled out a first-aid kit. The crew sometimes called them “Mia-Kits.”
"You know, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Mia reasons. "And I can wrap that on my own." She pointed to her hand, smiling.
"I know." Killer replied, a smile of his own slipping into his voice.
Mia said nothing else on the matter. She really did have an understanding of basic first-aid and could even perform it on injured members if needed (because this she had learned to do), but when Killer took it upon himself to do it for her, she didn't really want to say no.
Killer easily lifted her and sat her on the counter, grinning at her yelp, and modestly settled himself between her legs.
"What were you trying to make this time?" He asked seemingly innocently, but Mia detected a light hint of tease. He opened the drawer on the left and took out the first-aid kit, setting it on the counter next to Mia’s thigh, opening it up and rummaging through it for the burn gel.
Mia narrowed her eyes but decided to bite back the rant she knew she could throw his way. She didn't need him worrying so much over her. Too much of that and Kid would not like it. He could think it a weakness easily exploitable in his second-in-command, even when both Mia and Killer knew it wasn't. She was a strong woman yes, but a pirate first and she needed to carry her own weight.
Mia let it slide simply because she liked the position she was in at the moment.
"Mac and Cheese." Mia complied, pout on her lips.
She liked how Killer looked from her elevated position. She wanted to remove his mask and look at his face. Most of the crew was out on the island and she was sure that the few who had stayed behind to watch the ship were minding their own business after her threat, er, warning. Besides, his mask being unlocked like that was clearly an invitation.
"Something fairly simple," Killer noted, then added. "but you still can't cook for shit, you know that right?" He grinned but his tone was lighthearted. He applied some cooling gel to her wound and the tension in Mia's arm visibly relaxed.
"I can learn!" Mia huffed. Contradicting him with a phrase everyone knew well enough. She would often announce that she could learn a skill if she tried hard enough and would often prove many doubters wrong.
Even if this skill seemed to be more than a mere challenge for her...
Killer paused his administratioins, "How many times have you said that after you've injured yourself?" he commented, looking up at her through his mask. Mia pursed her lips at his look. She hated how that affected her.
“Well, I wanted to cook something right this time!” Mia defended, almost blushing. Almost. She definitely wasn't. Nope. Killer laughed. “And b-because…” Mia halted her sayings.
“Hm?” Killer hummed, encouraging her to continue. He finished wrapping the bandage on her finger and set the cooling gel in the Mia-kit and closed it, leaving it there to put away later. Watching Mia’s face definitely not become redder, he placed both hands on her hips, waiting for her to continue.
And then in a quick rush, “You know how I failed miserably at making the crew a meal three weeks ago? Well Leroy was fucking messing with me, saying he couldnt believe a woman was capable of fucking up a meal so bad. So I got mad and punched him in the face and broke his nose and I begged Wire for like a week to help me come up with something so I could prove the bastard wrong but also so I could-”
“You asked Wire?”
“Yes.” Mia answered quietly, dreading where this was going.
“Why didn't you ask me?” Killer asked, in a false hurt tone, reaching behind Mia’s hips and bringing her closer to him.
“I-I-Well...um,”
Mia wasn't used to his open displays of affection, it wasn't good for the Massacre Soldier to walk around like a love sick man in front of a crew who needed to respect him. Mia took no offence to that, their relationship couldn't be normal on a pirate ship, and she didn't really care for it. But when she did receive it, she was a mess.
“Didn't think I could help?” he asked, running his hands up her back. She shivered, her stomach twisting into a familiar feeling.
“It's not that Kills, I just-”
“Then what?”
There was a pause before Mia blurted out, “I wanted to make you dinner! Since you usually cook us dinner!” She confessed, looking away from him. “Even before, Wayne…” she looked down, remembering their previous cook. “You would make us dinner and we would eat together in your cabin. I-I wanted to do that for you...at least once.”
Killer paused, setting his hands down on her hips again.
"You don't need to bother with it, I like doing it.” Killer reasons, grabbing her chin and turning her head to look at him.
Killer met Mia's eyes through his mask and he noticed her looking directly at his, even when he knew she technically couldn’t see them. She knew where they were. He felt her desire to actually look at his eyes in that stare. It was a silent question.
He nodded lightly and she smiled at him, reaching over his mane of blond hair and pulling his mask over him. She did so slowly, deliberately, but also trying not to nick his nose like she had done so many times in the past. She set it next to the first-aid kit.
Killer closed his eyes as his fringe fell over them, but also to adjust to the light in the kitchen. Mia looked back at him and smiled, warmth filling her chest. She grabbed his face and stared at his features. Killer slowly opened his eyes to meet hers and she brushed his fringe to the side slightly to look at him better.
Killer’s left blue eye met Mia's and she leaned into him, smiling wider. Her eyes flickered to his white blind eye and back to the blue one, admiring them. She wrapped her arms around Killer's shoulders, clasping her hands around the back, and kissed his nose.
"I know but it would be nice, right?" Mia whispered. Killer returned her embrace. She breathed in his scent of booze and print. The familiar scent was comforting like nothing else in the world to her. "You’re always going out of your way to do things for me, like the meals, and this,” she made a gesture to the kit, “so I want to do something for you too, just because I can.”
Killer did not reply immediately. He really did contemplate her concern, and she took the liberty to run her hands through his hair and caress his face as he did so. She always took advantage of the times she could see his face.
"Mia,” He started. “you can do a lot of things."
Mia hummed, replying, but still a bit distracted by the way his jaw and mouth moved when he talked. It was so different from his usually blank mask.
"Like beating the shit out of a grown ass man and scaring him into tears."
Mia stopped as she recalled the memory, her shoulders shook and she almost choked on her saliva as she began giggling at the memory.
"Blowing up an entire shopping district at the last island, with only a pack of matches just because Naeth bet you couldn't.” Killer grinned at her reaction, which was more giggling. “And even shoot a single arrow between the eyes of a fish to prove you had better accuracy than all our sharpshooters combined.”
Mia had to grip Killer's shoulder tightly so she wouldn't fall off the counter at how hard she was laughing now. Full blown bellows of laughter and tears running down her face. Killer joined her in laughter.
The faces on those poor bastards when she proved them wrong was priceless. Especially when she not only got one fish between the eyes, but six of them in a single shot of two arrows. Imagining their wide eyes and open jaws made her fall into another round of laughter and tears. Her abs hurt at this point but it had been so wonderful. She had walked off the deck three times richer than she was when she had walked on. She seriously wondered why they bothered betting against her now with the amount of times she proved them wrong.
Killer sobered up faster than Mia and took her face into his hands. "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck."
Mia abruptly sobered up too, definitely NOT blushing like crazy. But then she grinned, "Oh no, Kill. You can't sweet talk your way out of this one. I'm gonna get this right. And you're gonna help me." She poked his chest with her uninjured finger.
"Stubborn as always."
Mia crossed her arms, “Always.”
Killer's lip twitched, threatening to break into a smile again, and Mia looked down at it, her own smile fading. He noticed the look on her face and let the smile show. She looked up at him, eyes sparking in anticipation.
Killer slowly leaned into her and Mia closed her eyes, her stomach doing flips at the intimacy. Killer paused an inch before her lips and smirked.
He quickly pressed his lips to hers before taking a step back. A second later she opened her eyes, a pout on her lips. He already had his mask locked back into place. He smirked at her disappointment, grabbing the white stained apron hanging on the cupboard under her.
"Alright then, better get started. Are you ready to get this right?"
"No." Mia smirked, jumping off the counter. "But I can learn.”