Good lord I can't believe I just wrote this, but I hope you guys like it anyway. Blue, BLLLUUUEEE I don't know what's wrong with me, WON'T YOU PLEEEAAASE PLEASE HELLPPP MEEEEE.

So it's Paul and John baking a cake. Just don't ask. Pure fluff. Just read it and review, even if you hate it.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this" John whined from his spot on the counter as Paul was bent over the adjacent one, intently reading one of Jane's cookbooks that he'd bought over with him.

"You asked me for help! And you wanna make Cyn happy, don't you?" Paul retorted, not looking up from the book.

"Course I do! But when I asked you to help me get an anniversary present, I meant jewellery or clothes or summat, not this!" John grumbled, playing with an egg.

"You said you wanted to get her something special, and I came up with this." John had actually remembered his and Cynthia's wedding anniversary this year, and had wanted her to surprise her, so he'd rung Paul up at four in the morning to ask him what to do. Paul, being the hopeless romantic that he was, had made him agree to this. So he'd made Cyn think he'd forgotten again, grimly noting how she'd looked more resigned than angry, and waited until she headed out to call Paul over and to bake her favourite cake for her.

"We can't even cook! It'll probably taste like mud and we'll all get food poisoning and die. Is that what you want Paulie?" John cried, and Paul snorted, idly playing with the sleeve of his t shirt.

"We're baking a cake, and were not gonna die, you moron. And even if it doesn't work out, Cyn will appreciate the effort more than anything you could have bought her." He didn't really wanna bake, but he was doing it for a good reason. Part of him wanted Cyn to have a good anniversary, and part of him was here to help John, considering he was always encouraging his mate to take better care of his wife. And now that John was actually trying, Paul wanted to help.

He finally looked up and gave John a look. "Provided you actually put in any, of course."

John jumped off the counter grumbling but nevertheless rolling his sleeves up.

"Fine, what do we need to do?" He asked, snatching the book from Paul and bringing it inches from his face, squinting. "Forgot me glasses. Paul, what do we need to do?"

Paul shook his head, trying to stop smiling at John's suddenly determined tone.

"Ok, we've got all the ingredients, and we just preheat the oven to..." He walked over and turned the dial "..350 degrees, and we just mix the stuff together. Know where the bowls are?"

John just looked at him blankly, then went back to the book.

"Right, never mind, stupid question." He muttered, opening random cabinets until he found a decent sized bowl and bought it over to the counter where John was still squinting at the recipe.

"How do you reckon we fold an egg, Paul?" John asked, crinkling his nose and putting the book down.


"Maybe you just crack it?" John offered. Paul shrugged.

"I know there aren't supposed to be any shells"

"You're a regular Betty Crocker, aren't you?"

Paul rolled his eyes and picked up the book. "Maybe the book says so..somewhere..else.." He said, flipping back to the glossary.

"This is gonna be a disaster." John piped up bluntly. Paul dropped the book onto the counter, glaring at his friend.

"It's just a stupid cake John! And I don't much fancy the idea of cooking either, I'm only here to help you out. Now quit your griping and help me or I'll just leave."

"Calm down Paulie." John said in his 'granny' voice. Paul turned around to leave, but John grabbed his arm. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry." he said, pulling his best puppy dog look at Paul. Of course Paul had the look down himself, what with the big eyes and the baby face, but John knew he could pull it off pretty well when he wanted to. Except today, maybe, because Paul was still glaring at him.

"Okay, I won't complain and I'll actually contribute." He said sincerely, feeling sort of bad for dragging his friend here and then being a a pain. Paul nodded and went to the book. John nearly jumped with joy.

"Oh here it is!" Paul said excitedly after flipping for a few seconds. "You separate the yolk from the white."

"How d'you do that?" John wondered as Paul picked up an egg.

"I guess you just.." Paul gave it an experimental tap on the counter, and it smashed completely, dripping onto the floor. They both blinked, puzzled.

"I don't think thats how you do it." John stated.

"Yes, I got that." Paul said shortly. He went and rinsed the mess off into the sink.

"Lemme try." John grabbed another egg and tapped it lightly against the counter, successfully cracking it open and holding the egg contents in one half of the shell.

"Thats how it's done, son." He said smugly, holding it out to Paul.

"Don't get cocky. I think we should just scoop it out" Paul said, looking around. "Where are the spoons?" When John didn't reply, he turned back to see John staring blankly at him again.

"Do you evercome in here?" He asked exparastedly, opening random drawers.

"I get me own water sometimes."

"Found 'em, ok, just hold it's slipping!"

"Don't you drop that too!"

"Nope! There!" Paul said triumphantly, dropping the yolk into the sink, both of them grinning at their little victory.

They quickly did the rest of the eggs and put in the rest of the ingredients. Finally, Paul opened the bag of baking flour while John tasted a bit of their surprisingly normal looking batter.

"Goddamn that's good!" John exclaimed, licking it off of his pinky finger. Paul dipped his own finger in and tasted it, then grinned proudly.

"Told ya." He said, lifting up the bag of flour.

"Why do we need to put that in? It tastes great!" John cried protectively, not wanting anything to ruin the great batter they'd just made.

"If we don't, it won't rise, it'll just burn."

"Ickle Paulie sure knows his way round the kitchen" John teased.

Paul blushed slightly as he put the flour in. "I made a cake for Jane once!"

"Oh ho ho ho no wonder you were so confident today. Tell me, was it worth it?" John waggled his eybrows. Paul smirked.

"Believe me, it was."

"Look at you, corrupting me with your evil ways." John dipped his hand in the flour and ruffled Paul's hair, smiling like a loon.

Paul growled and tackled him.

Both beatles stood, covered in flour, squinting at the cookbook to see if they'd missed anything. There was flour all over the floor, the counters and basically every other dry surface in the kitchen.

"I think we go everything?" John asked, having read the whole page through and not finding a single thing they'd missed.

"Yeah, I think so too. Ok, just put it in the oven and let's clean up"

"I can't believe you put flour down my pants." John grumbled, squirming uncomfortably, then pulling at his underpants and shaking his hips, making a large amount of flour fall on the floor through his pant leg.

"You started it" Paul said, trying to stifle his laughter. It was John's fault.

"Git." John shot back sourly.

"Just be careful, the oven's hot" Paul said, snickering as he headed upstairs to get cleaned. John could hear him laughing as he headed up the stairs.

"Be careful, the oven's hot, oohh." John squealed in a high pitched voice so Paul would hear him. "Sod."

John quickly did as Paul had asked, carelessly put half the stuff away and headed upstairs.

Two quick showers later, both Beatles sauntered proudly down the stairs to check on their creation and clean up when they saw smoke seeping out from the kitchen. Exchanging horrified looks, they ran into the kitchen to see smoke everywhere and the contents of the oven burning inside.

"It's on fire!"

"Fuck!" John ran out into the hallway, coughing against the smoke and grabbed the fire extinguisher. When he got back, Paul had managed to open the oven and the huge ball of fire was clearly visible, even more smoke polluting the air. Trying not to panic, John blasted the whole oven with the foam, keeping at it for a few minutes until he was completely sure that the fire was out. Paul opened the window as John looked at the burned mess, dismayed.

Paul was going to look when they suddenly heard familiar voices from behind the front door. John's eyes widened.

"Fuck Cyn's back, Paul we can't let her see this!" John said in a hushed voice, looking around and trying really hard not to panic. Cyn would kill him if she saw what he'd done!

"What do we do?" Paul asked frantically, his voice hushed too, uselessly tring to sweep some flour off of the counters. John tossed the fire extinguisher at Paul, who barely caught it but slipped on some flour on the floor, landing on his butt.


"Get off your arse and put it away!" John ordered as he heard Cyn right behind the door. Paul jumped up and ran out of the kitchen, running around trying to figure out where the fire extinguisher went.

John frantically fanned the air to get the smoke out, running around the kitchen until he tripped over the open oven door. "MOTHER FUCKER!" He yelled, falling onto the whole thing and then sliding off with a thud.

"You ok?" Paul called from somewhere as John dragged himself onto his feet, cursing like a sailor and slamming the oven shut.

"I'm fine." He gritted out, running out into the living room to try and stall Cyn as she entered the house. Maybe he could coax her upstairs while he payed the maid extra to clean up the mess. Or make Paul do it, the prat deserved it anyway.

John made it to the door just in time to see Cyn, Julian and the nanny walk in with the packages. He stopped in front of them and kissed Julian as the nanny took him upstairs, making sure to block Cyn's way. She looked at him strangely. He gave her a winning smile.

"Hello luv."

"Hello John." She replied, meeting him for a kiss. She looked somewhat sad, and John couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at how he must make her feel at each special occasion that he forgot. Not to mention what she'd feel when she saw her beloved kitchen!

"What's that smell?" She asked, wrinkling up her nose. John stiffened.

"What smell?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"It smells..smells like something's burning"

"I don't smell it"

"It's really.." She looked back at him and her expression went from confusion to irritation in literally a second. John gulped but kept his face calm. "What did you do?" She asked accusingly.

"Me?" He asked innocently.

"Yes you! You've got that look on your face!' She shot back, poking him in the chest.

"What look?"

"The look, you know, the one you have whenever you've done something wrong! Were you messing around in the kitchen?" She asked, horrified, and tried to move past him but John stepped in front of her, giving her the sexiest look he could muster.

"You look great today, darling.."

"Get out of my way John" Cyn said shortly, crossing her arms and glaring at John.

"Uh why?"

She nodded, apparently letting it go, then quickly sidestepped John and ran towards the kitchen.

"Cyn, I can.." He called, but stopped when he heard her horrified scream. Grimacing, John headed back towards the kitchen to face his livid wife, wondering why he'd ever listened to Paul in the first place.

Cyn was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking around with her mouth open, her face red.

"What did you do?" She asked menacingly.

"Nothing?" John tried meekly.

"Look at this mess!"

"We were hungry.."

" I left you sandwiches in the fridge, I told you this before we left!" She cried angrily, running a hand through her hair

"Oh hello Cyn!" Paul casually walked back into the kitchen, all smiles. John didn't know wether to kick his arse later for talking him into this or thank him for not leaving when he very easily could have without anyone noticing.

Were you a part of this? Cyn asked suspiciously, hand on her hip.

"A part of what?" Paul asked, looking around the kitchen with mild interest. John sent him the coldest glare he could muster from behind cyn's back, but Paul just avoided his eye.

"This!" She gestured angrily to the kitchen.

"No, no, I just got here." Damn Macca. Cyn just looked at him calculatingly for a while and John made a throat slitting gesture at him, putting his innocent face back on when Cyn turned back.

"What were you making?" Cyn reached for the book, but John swiped it away before she could grab it and did the first thing he could think of, which was to throw it over the counter into the living room, where it landed half open on a sofa. "Whoops!"


"It slipped."

Cyn glared at them both, then tried going towards the oven, but Paul blocked her way, standing right in front of it. She put her hands on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him.


"Uh..Wow you look great today Cyn!" He tried lamely, giving her a charming smile. She looked at both of them, and John could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Paul gave him a comically frightened look from behind her back, and John would have laughed if he wasn't so scared himself.

"C'mon luv, why don't you show me what you got today?" He tried again, knowing Cyn just loved to show him what she'd bought, wether he liked it or not. Might be worth it today, it was that or certain death when she saw her oven.

"Ok.." She said somewhat cheerfully, and made for the door. As soon as Paul shifted though, she pushed him aside with strength John didn't even know she had and opened the oven door, coughing as some smoke came out.

"Oh shit" John muttered, grimacing when the smoke cleared and she gasped.


"We're really sorry luv..."

"It's as if you do this on purpose! First you forget, then you go wreck my kitchen AND SET THE BLOODY OVEN ON FIRE! HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT?"

"I didn't forget" John said meekly.

"Oh you didn't?"


"For heaven's sake John, do you even know what it is that you supposedly remembered?" Paul had disappeared now and John couldn't really blame him.

"We were making a cake" Oh Paul was back now?

"What?" Cyn turned to him, her face falling.

"For your anniversary. John was gonna bake a cake to surprise you, asked me to help." Paul held up the cookbook, showing her the dirty page with the recipe they'd been trying to make. She turned to John again, tears in her eyes.

"You tried to make me a cake?" She asked quietly, a huge smile on her face. John grinned and nodded.

"Didn't turn out so well though.." She didn't even let him finish before jumping on him and giving him a tight hug

"I can't believe you actually remembered, and you tried to make me a cake?" She kissed him and John gladly kissed back, ignoring the gagging sounds Paul was making in the back. How that McCartney could read birds so well, he'd never know.

"That is the sweetest thing you've ever done for me!" She squealed, hugging him yet again. Paul winked at John and headed out, intending to leave them alone but Cyn grabbed him by the arm, pulled him back and hugged him too.

"And where do you think you're going, McCartney?"

"Yeah McCartney, you have to help us clean up!"

"John!" Cyn chided, kissing Paul on the cheek. "I know you were a part of this too. Thank you Paul"

"Aw shucks." Paul teased, making Cyn giggle and John roll his eyes. "It was my pleasure, really. Consider this burnt dessert my anniversary gift to you two"

"How on earth did you set the oven on fire, anyway?" She asked, kneeling down and peering inside again. Then she burst out laughing, actually losing her balance and falling on her butt. Paul looked in too, and turned and gaped at John, his mouth twitching.

"Did you really put the bowl in the oven?" Cyn laughed even harder. How did birds change moods so fucking quickly?


"The bowl, the one we were mixing in. Did you.." He snickered "..did you really just stick it in the oven?"

John flushed. You weren't supposed to do that? "Uh.. Yes?"

Paul started laughing too, joining Cyn on the floor who was now wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, clutching his stomach.

"I left the pan out for you. It was right there!" Paul gasped out, pointing at the counter. John pouted, remembering the pan he'd carelessly put away when he was 'cleaning up'.

"Ok, ok, so I messed up." He grumbled, scratching at his face. Cyn got up, still stifling giggles. "Baby, you tried, and thats what counts. I'm so sorry I yelled at you two." Paul and John grinned sheepishly.

"You can make it up to me tonight." John said cheekily.

"So we're not in trouble?"

"No! I'll have the maid clean up the mess." She looked around. "Do I want to know why there's flour everywhere?"

"Probably not."

"Ok then. Come on, we'll go out and eat. You too Paul." She left and went upstairs. Paul grinned cheekily at John.

"Disaster my ass."