Title: To Propitiate the Gods
Author: Stormy1x2 (travelingstorm)
Rating: PG (little bit of language at the end)
Word Count (fic portion): 2297
Notes: Done for LJ's ff100 challenge. Prompt #15: blue.
Summary: Mikey bakes a cake.
More Notes: Schmoop, wee tiny smidge of angst. Can be brotherly gen ficcage or slash-tinted, depending on which way you tilt your head. See ending for a mini-competition to win a fic request from me! If you want, of course. Also, thank you very much for the kind reviews being left. You guys are making this FF100 challenge very rewarding. :)
"You put the egg yolk in, you take the eggshell out, you put the egg yolks in and you stir 'em all about. Ya do the cakey-bakey and ya gotta eat it up – that's what it's all about!" Mikey sang out loud, expertly cracking two eggs, one in each hand. Not a single shell fragment defiled the batter. Utter perfection. Mikey smiled in satisfaction, picking up a large spoon and mixing quickly. When it was smooth, he checked the recipe. "Flour...flour... Ah-hah!"
Donatello poked his head in and saw Mikey with his head in one of the lower cabinets, trying to drag something out. He smirked and quickly tiptoed over, silent and sure-footed as a cat, stopping about two feet away from the counter that held the cake mix. He leaned over, stretching, index finger extended--
"Dude, back off!" Without taking his head out of the cupboard, Mikey snatched one of his nunchakus from his belt and reached up to smack Donnie's arm. "Get your dirty paws outta my cake!"
"Ow!" Donnie yanked his hand back, shaking his stinging forearm. "That hurt!"
"It was meant to," Mikey told him. He straightened up, a ten pound bag of flour in hand. Dumping it on the counter, he fished around the sink for the measuring cup he'd used for the milk, and added the correct amount to the bowl. "I mean it, Donnie. If you're a good boy, I'll let ya lick the bowl. But there will be no contaminates in the batter!"
Donatello chuckled. "I don't know whether to be amazed by the fact that you correctly used the word 'contaminates' in a sentence, or be offended at the accusation that my hands are anything but pristine."
"Donnie, you just came out of your lab. I don't even wanna know what chemicals you were mixing up there, Dr Frankenstein."
"Dr Frankenstein made a monster out of dead bodies. I promise you, there are no corpses in my lab."
"You still ain't getting the bowl until I'm done with it. Get lost."
After successfully kicking Donnie out of his kitchen, Mikey turned back to his cake batter. Baking powder. Cocoa powder. Vanilla. Everything went into the bowl. He leaned over and turned on the radio he'd stuck on top of the fridge, letting one of the lunchtime DJ's entertain him while he stirred. Something furry brushed against his ankle, and he looked down to see Klunk twining around his legs, little face uplifted imploringly. Mikey grinned and reached down, gathering his cat up in one hand. Depositing him on the counter on the other side of the sink – away from the batter – he quickly turned the taps on to re-wash his hands. "Stay there Klunk. You can watch Daddy make a masterpiece."
Klunk seemed intrigued, and curled up, draping his tail over his paws. His head was up, eyes alert, watching Mikey mix.
"We will, we will, rock you!" Mikey sang along with the radio, stomping his feet and tapping the spoon against the bowl along with the music. Klunk yowled and Mikey laughed, before studying the batter intently.
"More cocoa," he muttered decisively. "We need more cocoa, Captain!"
"What are you making?" Leonardo asked, walking in.
Mikey whirled around and glared at him, holding up a dripping spoon. "Come near the bowl, and you're gonna be trading that blue bandanna in for a chocolate brown one."
"...I see." Leonardo chuckled. "Chocolate fudge cake?"
"Triple-layer, double chocolate-mayo with caramel," Mikey corrected him.
Leonardo's eyes widened. "Geez, Mikey, what did you do?"
"You don't wanna know."
"I'll just leave you to it, then."
"You do that." Mikey watched warily, until Leo was out of range and he knew his precious masterpiece-in-the-making was safe before making his way back to the fridge. "Mayo, mayo, mayonnaise..."
The radio changed to 'The Boys are Back in Town' and Mikey whooped as he finished mixing everything. He poured the batter into three, thin pans. "Guess who just got back today! Them wild-eyed boys that had been away!" He smoothed the batter carefully, scraping as much out of the bowl as he could. "Haven't changed, had much to say. But man, I still think them cats are crazy."
Klunk meowed and Mikey looked over, waggling his eye ridges. "Not all cats, of course," he amended.
Klunk sniffed and daintily washed a paw, glaring at his owner.
"The boys are back in town! I said, The boys are back in to-o-o-o-w-n-n! The boys are back in town!"
The music suddenly went down in volume and Mikey looked over to see Master Splinter standing next to the fridge. He'd used his walking stick to reach up and twist the volume dial down. "My son?"
Mikey grinned. "Heh. Sorry, Sensei. Was just having some fun while I bake this bad boy."
His father smiled. "I am just here for the salad Ms O'Neil was kind enough to bring me earlier. You may turn it up once I leave."
Mikey nodded and focused back on his cake, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he sculpted the batter within the pans. Splinter paused after retrieving his salad. "Triple-layer, double chocolate?"
"Would it be wise of me to inquire what brought this on?"
"That's what I thought." Splinter nodded and headed for the door again. "Do not forget early morning practice tomorrow."
"Yes, Sensei!" Mikey chirped. Sticking the pans in the oven, he put the batter bowl on the kitchen table and flipped the volume back up in time to hear the end. "The boys are back again...been hanging down at Dino's...The boys are back in town again..."
He had an hour to kill, so he filled the sink with hot, soapy water and got to work on reducing the mountain of dishes to a molehill. Klunk hissed as water hit the dishes and sprayed his paws. Mikey shrugged. "Sorry, kitty-cat. You sit there, you risk splash-back."
Klunk did not look amused. Mikey ignored him and started washing. A minute later, Donatello's head reappeared in the doorway. "Hey! You promised me the bowl!"
Mikey pointed at the bowl set on the kitchen table with a soapy finger. "Ya get up every morning from the 'larm clocks warning, take the eight-fifteen into the city! There's a whistle up above and people push and people shovin' at the girls, who try to look pretty!" He whistled, waggling an eye ridge.
"You know, you can listen to music from this decade," Donnie commented.
"You know, I can take that bowl back," Mikey retorted mildly.
"Enjoy the radio," Donnie said hastily, grabbing a fresh spoon and the bowl, and vanishing from the kitchen.
"I will, thanks." Mikey rinsed off the measuring cup and stuck it on the drying rack. "And I been taking care of business, it's all mine, taking care of business, and working overtime, watch out!"
Leo stuck his head in the door as he was finishing up the first tower of dishes. "Hey, Mikey?"
Mikey pointed back out the door. "Donnie's got it."
"Right. Thanks!" Leo disappeared.
Mikey rolled his eyes, grabbed a spoon and stood by the door. Leonardo came back. "Uh.." Mikey held out the extra spoon, and Leonardo smiled sheepishly. "Thanks again."
"What would they do without me, Klunk?" Mikey dried off his hands and scritched his pet under the chin, sliding his fingers up to rub at the silky ears. "Die of scurvy and other food-related things."
A thorough petting and a rousing rendition of 'Get Ready' - "Get ready,'cause here I come! Ya wanna play hide and seek with love! Let me remind you, it's all right!" - that had Donnie bring back the bowl long enough to give him a standing ovation (and to chuck the dirty dishes at his head to make him stop), and the cakes were done. Mikey slid on his oven mitts and carefully removed the pans, setting them on the cooling racks. He then began tackling the second stack of dishes. Decorating cakes was much more fun in a clean kitchen. More space to move and create, and make dirty again. He scrubbed and scrubbed at two day old spaghetti sauce on a plate and decided they had to get themselves on a daily dish-washing schedule. This was ridiculous.
The music changed again, a familiar staccato beat tapping out, and Mikey swiveled his hips as he washed. "All...my...friends...know the low rider! The low...ri...der...gets a little higher!"
It took two full songs to finish the dishes, and another one to clean the counters, the sink, the table and sweep up the floor. By the time he was finished, the kitchen was sparkling, and the cakes were nearly cool. Mikey grinned fiendishly and rubbed his hands together. It was time for the fun part.
Mikey pulled open the fridge door and brought out a tub of chocolate frosting and a tub of caramel. He set them down, and the pulled out another container of white frosting. Grabbing the frosting knife and some piping bags from the drawer, he spread his tools out around the cakes. Sliding a proper dish under the base layer, he got to work.
The base layer got a thick cover of chocolate frosting. Mikey defined thick as no less then one centimeter, perfectly even all the way across. "Klunk," he told the purring feline. "What you see here, is something that causes hearts to clog and arteries to harden just at the sight of it. Unless you're in perfect physical condition, such as myself, of course."
Klunk didn't have much to say about that. Mikey shrugged and waited for the frosting to settle a bit. He'd gotten the extra thick kind, a frosting strong enough to hold up another cake. After a minute, he picked up the second, thinner cake layer and carefully placed it on top. Some frosting squirted out the sides, but Mikey ignored it. He'd just be adding more around the outside when he was done anyway. This cake topper was the caramel, and he spread that around, making sure to cover every millimeter. He added the third layer and then began spreading a thick layer of icing all over the whole thing.
"Look at that sky, life's begun. Light's are warm and the days are young." Mikey didn't know all the words and just hummed along until he got to the chorus, knife swiping up and down the sides of the cake. "Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years... Golden years...Golden years..."
"Mikey, give it up! You can't hit those high notes!" Donnie shouted from the main room.
"Come on Donnie, we've all heard him scream," Leo joked.
"Not listening!" Mikey shouted out the door. Chocolate frosting, check. He spooned some white icing into the piping bag, and began to work around the top layer of the cake, small florets all the way around. Every fifth floret was a giant one, guaranteed to give the consumer nothing more then a mouthful of icing, with no room left for cake. Finishing the top, he began to encircle the bottom with white florets, leaving small gaps in between every few. With that done, he put some of the white frosting in a small bowl, and grabbed a bottle of blue food dye. Mixing a few drops in, enough to make it a kind of robin's egg blue, he filled the gaps around the base layer with big blue florets, and then decorated the top. The third piping bag he filled with yellow icing, and used it to carefully trace swoops and swirls around the top. He then chucked everything into the sink to clean later. Klunk studied the near-empty bowls of frosting with interest.
Finished. Mikey looked over the cake, smiling broadly. It was perfect. He grabbed a plate and two forks, holding them in one hand and the cake in the other, and headed out of the kitchen. "Leaves are falling all around, it's time I was on my way," he sang as he carried the cake through the main room to the stairs. "Thanks to you, I'm much obliged, such a pleasant stay."
Up the stairs, down the winding hallway to the huge heavy doors. Mikey wedged the plate under the cake tray and put the forks on the tray itself, freeing up one hand to knock on the door. A muffled growl came from behind it.
"Come on, Raph, open up."
"I said, beat it, Mikey."
Mikey shook his head, even though his brother couldn't see it. "Raphie..."
Heavy footsteps stomped towards the door before it slid open. Raph glared at him, eyes flashing with hurt and unspent anger. "I said, fuck off!"
Mutely, Mike held out the cake, big blue eyes wide with apprehension. Raph stared down at the cake for a very long minute. When he finally looked back up, some of the anger had grudgingly left his face. "Fork?"
Mikey pointed at the tray.
Raph's eyes softened imperceptibly, and he opened the door a bit wider. "C'mon then," he said gruffly. "If it tastes like shit though, you're dead."
Mikey scowled. "My cakes are perfection," he declared. Then he blinked and tilted his head to the side, looking at Raph a bit guiltily. "Umm...you...do you..." He trailed off, looking at his older brother imploringly.
Raph looked down at the cake again, one finger tracing the air over the yellow frosted letters spelling out, 'I'm sorry', and then let out a sigh. He gave his sibling a brief smile.
"Yeah, Bro. I forgive ya."
I'm still not sure what Mikey did to Raph that was so horrible that only a cake of this level of decadence would fix it, but I leave that up to your imaginations. :) It must have been one hell of a prank. Or, if you're looking at this through slash-tinted glasses, call it a lover's spat. Whatever.
The songs Mikey sings (in order, and not including the bastardization of the Hokey Pokey at the beginning) are:
We Will Rock You
The Boys Are Back In Town
Taking Care of Business
First person to tell me what movie soundtrack all of the above songs are from gets a TMNT request fic, minimum 500 words, Mikey-based, gen or slash, your choice. If you choose slash, I do Raph/Mikey only. Gen fics have no limitations. If you're not sure what kind of fics I write, well, read some of my other TMNT fics to get an idea.
Also, chocolate-mayonnaise cakes may sound disgusting but the mayo gives the chocolate one hell of a kicky tang that just explodes in your mouth and God, I'm drooling just thinking about it.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!