fandomhighdorms | Third floor common room [after classes]

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Third floor common room [after classes]

Luke was in the common room surrounded by the ingredients to make sand cookies--and his cakensmoosher in case things got out of hand--frantically searching for the piece of flimsiplast that had the recipe on it.

He and Jo had a date to make cookies.

And Luke couldn't cook.

This shouldn't be a disaster. Really.

Artoo was in the corner with his video running. Artoo was an evil, evil droid.

Brightly Wound - Eisley

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"Thank you," Luke said gratefully, managing to spill flour onto his front as he lifted up the bag to look under it.

"So what exactly are we making?" Jo asked,while she looked for the recipe.

"Sand cookies," Luke chirped. "Tatooine specialty." He smiled. "Mostly because at the end of the day, everything has sand on it. Or in it. Or up it."

"Most people have to go to be beach for that." Jo spied a piece of paper with weird writing on it. "This it?"

"It is," Luke said, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. "Thank you. And Tatooine is a giant ball of sand. There's no reason to ever, ever go back."

Pause.

"Ever."

"You're welcome," Jo said, smiling and blushing slightly. "I'll take your word for it."

Luke wiped a bit of flour on her nose. "When I go back home, I'll go to much better planets," he vowed, glancing at the recipe. "How do you cream butter?" he asked, frowning, then reached for the milk. "I guess you add cream, right?"

No, no, no Luke.

"Not quite," Jo said, ducking between Luke and the milk.

"Then what do you do?" he asked.

She might've guessed he had no idea how to cook.

"You get the butter," Jo said. "And usually sugar, does the recipe ask for sugar?"

Yeah, had kind of figured that out.

Luke handed her the bag of sugar, eyes bright. "It's not salt," he pointed out helpfully. "I did that before."

Jo could believe that. "Okay, now what we want to do is beat the sugar and butter together so it's got a creamy texture," she explained, then added. "Beat in the mixing sense."

"And not with the cakensmoosher," Luke said, nodding over at the baseball bat. He grinned. "That's for the eggs," he teased.

"Luke, we're gentle with the eggs," Jo said, grinning. "Otherwise there's a bit of a mess."

"If there's not a mess, how will people be able to tell you cooked?" he countered, tossing a bit of flour at her.

Dork.

"Usually by the food." The mature thing to do would have been to ignore the flour tossing.

Naturally, Jo attempted to smear some of the butter-sugar mixture down the side of Luke's face instead.

"Ack!" Luke sputtered, reaching for the nearest weapon and conveniently forgetting he had started this.

He came up with an egg in each hand and a fiendish look in his eyes.

Jo eyed the eggs warily. "Oh, oh no, you don't," she said.

He tossed them between his hands and then began spinning them using the Force. "Don't what?" he asked, all innocence.

"Do whatever you're planning to!"

There were a lot of reasons Aunt Beru had banned Luke from cooking: this was one of them.

He crinkled his nose up, then cracked the egg between his fingers and tried to drop the goop onto her hair.

Terribly mature behavior. Really.

Batting uselessly at the raw egg in her hair, Jo picked up the mixing bowl and brandished it at Luke.

Luke countered by holding up a whisk and the bag of sugar. This could only end in disaster.

Not that that stopped Jo from trying to dump the contents of the bowl over Luke's head.

"I think we're going to have to start over," Luke said, sputtering as the butter and sugar gooped into his eyes.

Then he tipped the bag of sugar over her head.

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