Work Text:
“If you eat all those, these are going to be some disappointing chocolate chip cookies.”
Maria only smiled and slowly popped one more little chocolate chunk into her mouth. Varric adopted an expression of wounded martyrdom and she smirked, shaking the bag to illustrate that there were plenty left.
Although with Maria’s infamous sweet tooth, there wouldn’t be for long if she kept holding that bag. She must have read the thought in his face because she simply grinned even brighter. “That’s why you bought two bags.”
“Just because I’d prepared for you to derail our plans doesn’t mean you should.” He chuckled and turned his attention back to the half mixed dough in the bowl.
“But it’s so much more interesting when I do.”
He couldn’t argue that. In fact, baking the maddening woman chocolate chip cookies hadn’t been on his agenda at all today. He faced a rather tight deadline to get his next chapters to his editor or risk his life and limb facing her wrath. He should be up in the study glaring at his laptop, trying to make the pictures in his head come alive in letters and syllables.
Maria wondered in, took one look at him, and suddenly he found himself roped into her and her plans for the day. Varric complained, halfheartedly and really only because that too was part of the game. She batted the complaints away with her sharp sense of humor and keen observational skills.
Then she demanded cookies. And since she couldn’t bake or cook worth a damn, it fell on Varric to supply his willful lady with sweets or risk her burning his kitchen to the ground trying.
But there was something cozy in this scene, something that warmed his heart. Simple, straightforward, and his. She leaned against his counter, sipping on one of his beers, smiling the crooked grin she reserved purely for him when he was being a bit of an ass.
Blissfully domestic and sickening, really. If the world could get a peek at their heroic Inquisitor and the intrepid author who followed in her wake now would they even recognize them with their public personas cast aside?
“Varric, I would like these cookies sometime in the next age.”
He’d been staring at her like a lovesick idiot, but despite her teasing Maria’s gray eyes sparkled with matching adoration, a pretty pink blush creeping over her cheeks.
“You ready to hand over the chocolate chips?” He asked smoothly. She laughed and shook her head, dancing out of his reach just before he lunged to retrieve them. He let her slip away, sighing and rolling his eyes while his own joy bubbled inside him. He grabbed the second bag on the counter and listened to Maria open the fridge behind him, heard the clink of another bottle being retrieved.
“Hey B, play something I can dance to.” She called out. Varric knew what would happen before it even occurred. His smile curled upwards and he waited.
“Technically, any music can be danced to.” The AI responded from the speakers above them. Maria swore under her breath. Varric looked over his shoulder just in time to see her level a steely, rather Inquisitorial, glare up at the ceiling.
“She knows what I mean.” Maria complained with a huff and a wounded look. “She just doesn’t like to listen to me. I think she’s jealous.”
“I am incapable of jealousy.” Bianca replied smoothly.
Bianca liked to be a pain in the ass and Maria hadn’t quite learned how to manage the computer yet. “Bianca…” He began reproachfully. “You know what she wants.”
If the computer was capable of sighing, she would have too. Varric thought it would have been with the same degree of fondness, no matter what Maria thought.
The rolling beat drifted from the speakers and Varric turned his attention back to the cookie dough. He dumped a rather generous amount of chocolate into it before he felt Maria’s arms circling him from behind, the slow, smooth roll of her hips against his ass.
He nearly dropped the whole damn bag into the mixture when her fingers slid up, slipping beneath his unbuttoned shirt. “Shit.” He swore, her tiny fingers nimbly undoing both buttons and him without nearly enough effort on her part. “I thought you wanted cookies.”
“And I want to dance.” Her breath was hot against his ear, her voice a delightful little purr. “I know you can multi-task.”
Not when she was like this, he couldn’t. Not when it was just them, free of the world hounding them on their doorsteps, her warm and willing, him at peace for the first time in… hell, maybe forever. He dropped the bag and mixture, turning to capture her in his arms, his hands dropping to her undulating hips and tugging her as close as she could get.
“Minx.” He muttered, kissing her forehead and easing himself into her rhythm. “I never get anything done when you’re here.”
“Stop complaining.” She ordered, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging gently at his hair. “You love every second.”
He couldn’t even summon a lie to refute her. More importantly, he didn’t want to.