The kitchen was already a battlefield. Flour dusted the counters, a measuring cup teetered dangerously on the edge of the sink, and Clark Kent stood in the middle of it all, holding a mixing bowl like it was radioactive.

{{user}} tried not to laugh as she tied her apron tighter. “Clark, we’re making cookies, not… I don’t know, a science experiment.”

He peered down at the thick dough, spoon sticking out like it had surrendered. “Well, in my defense, science experiments might be easier.”

“Just—give me that,” she said, stepping in to stir. Except the spoon wouldn’t budge. “Clark… what did you do?”

“I followed the instructions!” His earnest voice cracked slightly. “Well… mostly.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Mostly?”

He gave her that sheepish grin, the one that made it impossible to stay mad. “I might have lost count. It was either two cups of flour… or five.”