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The first thing Kate took notice of that morning was the empty bed beside her. Not exactly how she’d have preferred the day to start but she chalked it up to an early morning bathroom break and rolled over to settle in.
The second thing she noticed was the acrid stench of smoke.
She shot up and looked toward the bedroom door hiding away anything behind it. No time for her dressing gown as she clambered out, sleepy brain being brought to life faster than usual by a rising panic. Her t-shirt and underwear would just have to do for a daring battle against fire.
‘Fuck, why did I take out the smoke alarms? I don’t even have a fucking fire blanket.’
Pulling open the door revealed to her the hallway leading to the sitting room, all of it thankfully free of any raging infernos. No, the thin wisps of smoke curling around the hallway’s end must have been coming from the kitchen. She approached to assess the damage, silently questioning her choice of firefighting gear more with each step, but rather than a blazing fire turning the corner awarded her with a much less hazardous sight. Ruffled brown hair with a set of unclothed, defeated looking wide shoulders topping off grey sweats and all posted in front of her stove. She loosed a quiet sigh of relief and took a moment to assess the scene.
Flour. A lot of flour. A half empty bag of it toppled over on the counter after it had evidently had a coughing fit all over her once clean counter and floor. The shells of two cracked eggs carelessly chucked onto the counter once done with. One carton of milk and a few drops of it having been trickled onto the counter. Closest to the hob was a plastic pitcher full of the thick white product of all the former ingredients having been mixed up together.
‘Pancakes. Pancakes that smell like smoke.’
Kyle’s left hand scraped the pan on the stove back and forth for a few moments before a type of throaty, deep grunt worked its way out of him.
“Come on…” his other hand brought up a previously unseen spatula and jabbed it forward hopefully, introducing the creak of metal on metal to the air.
Kate finally decided to approach, amidst Kyle’s pleading with a pile of batter to obey him. That brought new sights, such as the massacred strings of torn up pancake on the pan, or their charred brethren having been piled onto the plate to Kyle’s right. She sidestepped around the pile of flour on the floor to come to his side and earned herself a double take of surprise.
“Kate!” he struggled between looking at her and keeping his eyes on the tragedy in front of him, head swinging wildly.
“You’re supposed to be asleep!”
When she simply remained staring at the pan, brought to silence by the torrent of sarcastic remarks fighting with one another in her mind, he sighed and settled down to give one remnant of the pancake a flip.
“Were you trying to make me breakfast in bed or something?” was the question that weaseled its way past all the meaner things to say. Her eyes trailed away from the pan and to his bare torso as she spoke, struggling between appreciating the sight and concerning over the hot oil in close proximity to it.
Kyle answered with a few quiet grumbles that gradually worked their way up to words.
“I was try’na be all romantic.” he muttered down at the pan.
A silent breath snaked its way out of Kate as she took in his ill-born attempts. Well, fair play to him for trying. And for apparently remembering her birthday. Besides, not like she was a perfect girlfriend either. Far from it.
“Let me.” she ordered, moving to the fridge to take out the butter and grabbing a spoon from the drawer on her way back. She lay a hand on the pan wielding hand’s forearm and started muscling her way to control while reaching over that chest to grab the spatula.
Some more grumbling sounded off as she forced her way to the center and, with some vigorous shaking to unstick them, discarded the pieces of pancake to the plate.
Kyle stood there looking a little more defeated than before while Kate spooned out some butter and scraped it into the pan with an index finger. Wisps of smoke rose while she tilted it all this way and that to coat the pan in the bubbling gold.
“Oh well sure, if you’re gonna cheat using butter…” Kyle mumbled.
A side glance from Kate preceded her butter coated finger being wiped down the bridge of Kyle’s nose. She poured out a pool of the batter while his eyes crossed trying to assess the damage.
“Really?”
“That’s for getting flour all over my kitchen.” she answered. She had a knack for sounding dead serious regardless of being joking or not.
While she watched the batter, waiting for the right time to flip it and sliding the pan back and forth, her peripheral vision granted her sight of a still butter-smeared face making its way toward the pile of pancake-strings.
“Don’t.” she warned, not even lifting her eyes.
His eyes lifted to her, warily, like a child planning to do something without the permission of their watching parent. Then his hand reached out and lifted one of the longer pieces from the plate.
“ Kyle .”
In one smooth motion the string of overcooked pancake remains was draped over Kate’s shoulder. Her jaw set and a vicious warning breath gushed through her nose. Eyes still on the almost-ready-to-flip batter in front of her because she wasn’t about to ‘lose’ and mess up when she had wrested the reins from him to make an example.
“Get it off.”
“Nope.”
With a calmness more threatening than any shouting she could have done, Kate used the spatula to flip the pancake around in its entirety. Then she went about a mini-dance routine of rotating her shoulder this way and that to try dislodge the food without releasing the pan handle and giving Kyle a chance to take it back. No luck. The snickering from him only made her jaw slide side to side.
After some sliding the whole thing back and forth again, Kate steadily slid the full pancake off onto the pile of pieces and placed the pan back while Kyle stood there watching intently, a face splitting grin stuck to his features. Working a rise out of her and watching her try not to scream and tackle him seemed to have become a favoured pastime of his. The fact that she found amusement in it too was something that consistently baffled Kate. However, satisfaction in revenge. That was something she understood.
Time to work on her acting skills.
When she grabbed her own hand and hissed, staring down at it and turning away from Kyle, the snickering died down until all that were left were her own sounds of anguish, A few more seconds before he spoke up.
“Wh..what happened? Y’alright?”
A shake of her head, with some extra hissing thrown in for good measure, brought her success signified by approaching footsteps. One armslength away was close enough.
Her hands unclasped each other, shooting forward to both steady the tub of butter and simultaneously slide a chunk right out. One quick turn around and Kyle’s stunned expression was being smeared with the gooey substance.
The triumphant chuckling squirming its way up Kate’s throat went free while she stepped back to admire her work.
Then Kyle’s traumatised expression shattered, and the eyes went to her, slow and steady, all narrowed and with that little curl of the lips that altogether said ‘I am going to enjoy making you regret that.’
His left arm darted out, so fast that Kate hardly had time to turn and make it two steps before it hooked itself halfway around her front. She loosed a combination of a laugh and a hearty battle cry while she tried to dislodge herself. Made some progress too, until Kyle’s right hand caught her unawares and managed to tug her back, right against the left half of his chest. Left arm wrapped around tighter in spite of her fervor locked her against him.
“Thought that was funny did you?” the smile in his voice foretold payback. The kind of payback that made him trudge backward to the counter, prisoner secured. All the flailing of her body didn’t do Kate much good. Not against someone taller and stronger than her with no kind of mercy to be seen in him.
“Hmm. Let’s see…” he sounded more like someone trying to pick the best dressing for his hotdog than someone intent on revenge against a helpless captive.
Kate watched his hand hover toward the butter. And stop.
“No, you know what? Butter’s too good for you.”
She was dragged back another step to give Kyle the reach to dip his hand in the pitcher of batter.
“Kyle, I swear to God! ” the angered growl of a shout she attempted came out more like someone having a laughing fit and an asthma attack at the same time. That only made him smile wider.
“Say Aaaahhh. ” he cooed, hand homing back for her face.
She screwed her eyes and mouth shut, while the attempt to turn her head away proved to be largely ineffective and still ended with the right side of her face oozing the creamy thickness. The requested ‘Aaaahhh.’ was delivered as a scream of anguish in a closed mouth instead.
Then freedom was granted and she scrambled to get away from the cackling man behind her. Body whipped around, eyes fierce and ready for more revenge.
Then she took in the steadily melting butter freefalling through the crinkles in Kyle’s laughing face. Some globs of batter escaped from her own and skirted her t-shirt on the way down to the floor. And looking there reminded her of the mess of flour all over her kitchen.
She sighed with defeat. Maybe revenge could take a seat. For now.
Back to Kyle. He had stopped laughing, but that bright smile was back and directed at her, eyebrows dipped in challenge and waiting for the rebuke.
“Truce?” Kate’s offer seemed to catch him off guard, eyebrows flying upward before they settled into a wary arch. It took a few moments for him to consider the decision and respond.
“Truce.” he replied, caution thick in his voice.
His suspicion was not without its reason. Kate wasn’t one for truces. Kate was one for winning. And she would. Eventually. Of course when she said “Truce.”, what she really meant was “Pause.” Kyle didn’t have to know that though. He’d figure it out eventually.
For now, she really had to have a go at the mess in her kitchen before ants came and decided they had a new favourite hangout spot.