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A loud metallic thud rings throughout the kitchen the moment Firefly bumps her head against the cupboard—and that’s when she realizes how arduous it was to navigate this small kitchen in a mech suit.
Thankfully, she’s not hurt. Rather, she was more worried about the state of their new cupboard more than anything.
She runs her sensors across the wooden surface, scanning for damage. Fortunately, there doesn’t appear to be any. It took Stelle a great deal of time and effort to mount this on the wall—she’d hate to see a scratch on it already.
Firefly turns her attention back to the slab of beef sizzling away on a pan before her. She’s gripping a spatula in her metallic hand, careful not to crush the poor utensil with her strength, yet also exerting just enough force to push the piece of meat against the pan. Maximize the surface area that’s in contact with the heat—that’s something she learned from the internet.
Why was she cooking in SAM, anyway?
The plan was simple. See Stelle off when she goes to work, and then surprise her with a fancy dinner when she gets home.
The thing is that the cooking is turning out not to be so simple. She was fine when it came to seasoning the meat. She was fine when it came to placing the meat on the pan.
The problem started when the torch she was supposed to use stopped working. The recipe called for the meat to be seared—to melt the fat and make it easier to eat while enhancing the flavor, apparently. Granted, the torch itself was an old gift from a Belobogian friend of Stelle, so maybe Firefly should have thought of a backup plan beforehand. Should have thought further ahead.
Either way, she did the most normal thing a normal wife would have done in this situation: take out her transformer and don the superweapon that is her armored mech suit.
She flicks her metal fingers, and a low burst of flames spew forth, carefully aiming for the fatty bits of the meat. The fire lightly coats the surface of the steak, and she knows she’s doing the right thing when the meat turns a slight brown. As the smokey smell of the burnt fat enters her nostrils through the vents of her armor, she’s convinced that this will work.
The Strategic Assault Mech, bane of the Propagation, destroyer of stars, now used to cook a cut of steak.
There should be something humorously ironic about that realization, but right now all she feels is content.
Firefly didn’t even have time to get out of her transformation when Stelle’s familiar voice came through from outside. She hurriedly adjusts the plates on the table, before taking off the apron that she had subconsciously tied around herself.
And so, the Molten Knight stumbles her way through the kitchen, into the living room, and finally to the door.
“Firefly! I missed you,” is what Stelle declares the moment the door opens, spreading her arms with intent to hug, only to dive face-first into the hard chunk of metal that is Sam’s torso. She makes no complaint, however, instead burying herself tighter into the hug.
“...Are you okay?” Firefly asks, hoping the modulation filter of Sam doesn’t mask the worry in her voice. She tentatively raises her hand, lightly running it through Stelle’s hair in an attempt to soothe her.
“I’m fine! I missed Sam, too,” Stelle gazes up from the hug, staring directly into Sam’s green eyes hidden beneath the golden visor, though it’s clear there’s an evident, painful red mark on her forehead that she’s forcing a smile through. “Anyway, what’s going on? Is there a rat inside or something? That’s why you had to bust out the big guns?”
“You know I’m not afraid of rats,” Firefly corrects. “As for that first question…. Well, why don’t you come inside and find out?”
“Lead the way, then.”
Stelle pulls away from the hug, and Firefly gently takes her wife’s hand in her much bigger one. The pair walk back inside, with the former Stellaron Hunter being extra careful not to bump her head on the doorways.
Eventually, they arrive at the kitchen, and the main attraction greets Stelle’s eyes. The plain dining table she got used to now had a luxurious, lace cloth draped over it, like a prop taken straight from a five star restaurant. Perched on the top is a set of jade taper candles, something Stelle recognized as a Xianzhouian gift.
But more importantly, what catches her attention more than anything is the two delicious-looking plates of steak stationed on the table, the aroma of which is already making her stomach grumble.
“Okay, seriously,” Stelle turns to her wife, unable to hide the happiness on her face. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Firefly takes a step forward, approaching the table. A small flame flickers on her fingertips once again, and she uses it to light the candles in front of her. “I just wanted to try something fancy.
“Aww, but every day is fancy if I get to spend it with you, Firefly.”
“Sap,” is all Firefly replies with. She’s grateful Sam was hiding how effective that lame cheesy line actually was on her.
“Says the one who set up a romantic dinner out of the blue!”
“Okay, fine, you have a point.” A harmless swirl of flames surrounds Firefly, taking Sam’s armor along with them as they vanish into the air. She meets Stelle’s eyes with her real ones, for the first time today, and smiles. “Now get to eating. It’s gonna get cold.”
“Gladly, ma’am!”
And as Firefly sees the pure joy on her wife’s face, she knows that this is the kind of life that they have fought so hard for.