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It was early evening when you walked into the lab in search of your favorite Ghostbuster. Egon was always tinkering away on something, and tonight was no exception. He only looked up when you set a cup of coffee (four sugars, his favorite) in front of him, and he gave you a small smile in thanks. “What are you working on, Egon?”
“The ghost traps aren’t working to their full capacity, I’ve run some figures and I think I can increase the radius. It would make jobs considerably easier if I can manage it.” He finally looked up at you and noticed the apron you were wearing. Giving you a quizzical look he asked “I’m assuming you’ll be spending your evening in the kitchen again? Will there be chocolate?” He wore a nonchalant, yet hopeful look on his face.
You rolled your eyes. “Of course there will be chocolate. Have you ever known there to not be chocolate involved in some capacity when I’m in a baking mood? Besides, the smell is the only way I can get you to poke your head out of the lab for more than five minutes. Unless, you’d want to put your work aside and let me show you some science of my own? It’ll be fuuuun…”.
You were banking on the fact that Egon Spengler couldn’t pass up the opportunity for science in any capacity, even if it wasn’t the kind he excelled in. Although, if you thought about it, there probably wasn’t much of anything he wouldn’t excel at if he put his mind to it. There was a somewhat scary thought…
“I really should continue working. I’m eager to crack this equation tonight and get started on the adjustments as soon as possible.” Well there went that theory. You knew that you must have looked disappointed for a second before you could school your features back to cheerful. Damn your lack of poker face!
“Oh, okay. Well you know where I’ll be if you change your mind. Try not to work too hard,” you replied as you laid your hand on his shoulder for a few seconds. Walking out of the lab and towards the kitchen, you felt his eyes track your departure, hoping he would change his mind. No joy. ‘Oh well, worth a shot’ you mumbled to yourself. Baking always made you happy, and you found that it helped clear your head.
The radio was the first place you went when you walked into the kitchen. Flicking it on and finding your favorite station, you quickly went to work preparing your ingredients and preheating the oven. Tonight’s plan had been chocolate soufflés. Baking and science at its finest. Too bad you wouldn’t have a chance to impress Egon with your skill.
After working diligently, lost in the sounds from the radio and the soothing rhythms of baking, you’re feeling almost giddy. Singing along to the radio, you marveled at the acoustics in the firehouse. I want to be your fantasy, maybe you could be mine. You just leave it all up to me, we could have a good time. Really getting into the music now, and moving to the beat, you’re not aware you have an audience. “You really do have a lovely singing voice.” You shriek as the whisk flies out of your hand, hurtling across the room and nearly hitting Egon in the shoulder. The bowl crashes to the floor, the force of the impact throwing the egg whites onto the ceiling.
Face burning with embarrassment as the two of you stare at the ceiling, you manage to croak out jokingly “Don’t you just love Prince?”
Egon somberly agrees. “More than life itself.”
“What are you doing, you scared the hell out of me?!” You clutch your chest, still breathing heavily. He looks at you somewhat sheepishly and ducks his head. “I apologize. If you still find it acceptable, I’d like to assist you. I’m sorry for not accepting your offer sooner. I believe you mentioned something about science earlier?”
“I’d like that. Let me get this cleaned up before it hardens,” guesturing to the egg whites that have flown halfway across the kitchen. The ceiling was going to be a struggle. Deciding not to worry about that just yet, the two of you make quick work of the mess, and are ready to start again. “Okay, have you baked before?”
“Yes, but not this kind of baking.” You giggle at his raised eyebrow, catching the joke. You knew from hearing the guys swap stories that Egon’s twin brother Elon grew some top-notch weed, and they had all partaken on occasion.
“Well this is a little different,” you smile brightly. You really did love baking, and the fact that you would finally get to teach one of your favorite people something gave you joy. Egon was an excellent teacher, he never made you feel inferior or stupid when you had questions about the science behind the equipment and the logistics of ghostbusting. You appreciated that about him. It was time to repay that favor.
You set to work separating the eggs, taking care that there was absolutely no egg yolk mixed with the whites. The yolk consists of fat and proteins, while the egg whites were all protein. In order to get the soufflé to mix properly you would need to make sure this step was done perfectly. “The protein in the egg whites forms a kind of skin around the bubbles of air as they are being whipped. If the skin doesn’t form properly, we lose the air, and the soufflé doesn’t rise.” So many things have to work perfectly for a soufflé to be successful. From the type of bowl used (stainless steel) to the technique used to crack the eggs (always on a flat surface to give less shell shatter and less risk of getting even the smallest amount of egg shells in your recipe).
Egon listened intently as you spoke, and you thrilled knowing that you had his undivided attention. Now you were going to start covering the physics aspect of the bake. His eyes lit up as you explained all about the water molecules from the steam within, and how when they started evaporating the only place for them to go was up, as it was the only place not confined by the baking mould. Causing the soufflé to rise to exceed its confines. After cracking and separating the eggs (again), it was finally time to start whisking.
“Now, this is a crucial part,” you explain as you slide the whisk into the whites. “I’m going to start with a figure eight motion to break up the whites, then into a circular motion to start whipping.”
“May I?” Egon asked, clearly fascinated by the process.
“You sure, Spengs? You need to really get in there and beat it for a few minutes. Don’t stop until you have stiff peaks.” The tips of his ears turned red, and it was suddenly a lot hotter in the room than it had been a moment before. You hadn’t even thought about the innuendo before the words left your mouth, but now you were sure your face was bright red. Egon looked at you and quirked the corner of his mouth up into what could only be described as a diabolical smirk. Did he just wink at you?
You had an eye on the clock as he started whisking. Sure hands gripped the bowl and whisk with an almost expert precision, and you felt yourself heating up as you watched him work. “A little faster, Egon. I don’t think you’re getting enough air in there.” You stepped up behind him and placed your hand over his as he continued to whisk, guiding his hand into a faster pace. Your other hand rested gently on his back, as you both worked away for a few moments. Slightly out of breath, you looked down into the bowl and signaled him to stop by moving your hand up to his shoulder and squeezing. “Okay, now we need to do the same thing with the yolks.”
He moved over a bit to allow you to step closer to the counter to slide the bowl of yolks towards you. “Do you require assistance?” Egon placed his hand on your hip and settled himself behind you. His other hand settled on top of yours, almost swallowing your tiny hand in the process. Feeling him pressed up against you was distracting and delicious. You needed to concentrate and see this through, damn it! You started whisking, letting him set the pace this time. He really was a quick study, and a few minutes later, you felt his breath ghost your ear.
“I think it’s ready.” His hand stopped whisking, but his other didn’t leave your hip, all the while rubbing slow circles with his thumb. An involuntary shiver rippled through you and you turned your head to look at him. Soft lips met your own, tentative, teasing as your eyes fluttered shut. Your mouth opened to him and you turned fully, his hand grazing your face. Lifting your hands to rest them both on his chest, his other hand moved from your hip to your face, fingertips tucking your hair behind your ear. Your hands slide up from his chest to tangle in the short hair at the nape of his neck. Breaking the kiss, he murmured against your lips, “this height difference is inadequate.” Suddenly strong hands move down your hips and lift. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, and you feel your bottom make contact with the kitchen counter.
Egon looks at you with a self satisfied smirk. “Much better. Now, I believe you mentioned something about ‘stiff peaks?’”