Summary: She'd have been livid had it not been for the man wearing her apron.
A/N: This came from the prompt that I recieved on tumblr.
Regina came home to find her kitchen a complete disaster. She'd have been livid had it not been for the man wearing her apron. He was currently covered in flour and some kind of residue she couldn't place. Her lips curled into a smile. "And just what have you done to my kitchen?"
Robin's head snapped up in the direction of her voice. He looked absolutely defeated as he inspected the contents of the pan that he'd just remove from the oven. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that." He scratched his temple, utterly perplexed.
In truth, she hadn't ever seen him look more endearing. She moved closer to him, careful to not get any of the mystery substance on her designer pant suit as he looked into the pan that he'd been otherwise occupied with. "And what was it supposed to happen like?" she teased playfully as she managed to peck him on the cheek without soiling herself.
He pointed toward the cookbook. "Lasagna." He threw up his hands and turned to fully face her. "I suck at this homemaking stuff." He was so out of his element in the kitchen. Give him a freshly killed deer and an open flame any day, and he could make a marvelous tasting meal, but put him in a modern kitchen and he had met his match.
She chuckled softly until his hands had come up to grasp her hips. She wrinkled her nose. "Tell me you didn't just put your grimy hands on me."
"And if I did?" He kissed the end of her nose. "You love me, Regina." He pulled her into a tight embrace, only to have her struggle for a moment. "Don't fight it, love. Damage is done now." He caught her pouting mouth in a soft, lingering kiss.
She finally melted against him, unable to resist him for a moment longer. As the kiss broke, she sighed softly. "You're right about that, Robin. I do love you."
He tilted his head. "Supper at Granny's it is. But would that be before or after dessert?"
"After. Definitely after."