Every nine inch round pan you owned was out on the counter. Four perfectly iced cakes sat on the kitchen table. Each one a different flavor profile, different style of icing, different color. You were focused at what little space was left on the counter working a marshmallow buttercream with your favorite offset spatula over the fifth and final cake.

"We've talked about bringing work home with you." you were so absorbed in the cake you didn't hear your fiance get home.
"Ha-ha." you murmured back, turning as he entered the kitchen, "It's not for work."

His tired eyes scanned the room as realization settled in

"Oh, no." his gaze finally landed on you, "We talked about this too, F/N-ya."
"I just need help choosing," you gave him your best pout, "please?"
"I don't eat cake." he deadpanned.
"You haven't even tried. Just a taste?"
"Isn't this a waste, if you're just tasting them?"
"We're." you corrected, "And I can sell single slices at the shop."

He watched you add the newly finished cake to the table and then start to rearrange them by flavor. The small smile on your face as you concentrated and hummed tugged at him. It was very apparent that this was something that made you happy.

Who was he to deny you that?

Even with all of the trouble the two of you had - the thought of upsetting you stung.

He was starting to hate this feeling a little less.

"You're mad?" your pouting voice broke his train of thought.
He blinked realizing he'd been staring,"No-not at all. Give me a moment to change and we can tackle this."

The smile you responded with was unfair. Not only that, it was incredibly rare. In your short arranged relationship he'd only seen that smile twice. This was the first time it was directed at him and he didn't know what to do with that. For him to be the source of an expression that was so pure and joyful? He never thought he'd see the day - he never knew he wanted to. 

You continued to cut and plate the cakes while Law dipped out to change. He returned wearing tapered black sweats and a navy slim-fit long sleeved shirt.

"So, why are there so many?" he sounded more amused than annoyed as he took a seat.
"I can't pick a flavor and I want to narrow it down. Also this cake is representing us, so it should be something we like."

His eyes followed your movements as he tried desperately to not react to what you'd just said. How were you suddenly being so nonchalant about everything?
That probably wasn't quite the right term for it. After meeting Rocinante and exchanging numbers, Law noticed a shift. He wouldn't go as far as to say you were excited about planning - but you definitely weren't as disinterested as you had been.

"Ok… we've got -" you began pointing at the cakes while naming them, "lemon cake with a blueberry compote and lemonade buttercream, strawberry shortcake with a whipped marshmallow buttercream - my personal favorite, raspberry white chocolate with a cream cheese frosting, classic vanilla bean with a vanilla bourbon swiss buttercream, and finally double chocolate with an American buttercream." you hummed, "We could do a German chocolate cake I guess. The caramel is good but people can be weird about the coconut."
"I can see why there are so many now." your fiance murmured, "You don't have to keep adding to the list F/N. Why don't we just pick the one that's your favorite?"
"Maybe it's stupid, but it's important to me that we choose it together and not just because I like it." you looked up at him with big doe eyes.

He had to be sure you were never made aware of how dangerous your facial expressions were.

"Alright, let's get this started then. We'll save the strawberry for last." he reluctantly pulled the vanilla cake toward himself.
You let out a short laugh, "You don't have to look so upset. If you absolutely can't handle the cake then I'll just choose on my own. Also, I made you some onigiri for after."
"Thanks." he mumbled picking up his fork.

Your hopeful gaze was absolutely crushing him. He knew he'd feel guilty if he truly didn't like it. But he had never actually had cake that he could remember. He just knew the ingredients could be similar to bread which he didn't find appealing. Desserts weren't something he needed or really craved either.

How he managed to be paired with a pastry chef was beyond him.

The fork slid through the cake with ease. He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and taking the first terrifying bite.

You looked on with amusement. This fully grown man with a full medical degree was eating a slice of cake the way a six-year-old would eat green beans. You were surprised that he didn't gag.

Law was surprised to find nothing about this unpleasant. The texture of the cake was a little like bread but moist - not off putting as he had expected. The frosting was smooth and balanced.

"Be honest," you said, taking a bite for yourself.
He paused for a moment in thought, "Maybe a bit too sweet? I… don't hate it." a small simper tugged at his lips.
You nodded, taking mental note,"Maybe something tart would be better for you?"

The tasting moved on like this. Law was less reluctant with every slice. Each time he gave an honest critique. He liked the juxtapose of the tart lemon and sweet blueberries, but the lemonade frosting didn't land the way you'd hoped. The double chocolate was too rich, he wasn't a fan of chocolate really anyway. So far the raspberry white chocolate was his favorite.

"I'm so glad this is the last one." he sighed, "I'm not sure I can take much more."
"I'm sorry for torturing you, you poor baby." you chuckled, moving the final piece between you.

Last but not least was the strawberry shortcake. The way you had layered the slices of strawberries between the layers of cake was like something he'd seen on TV. It was more dense and as he examined the piece on his fork there were bits of green. Mint? The sponge also seemed to be soaked in pink liquid. You watched him as you were already on your second bite, wondering what he was analyzing so hard. Finally he ate it and hummed.

He hummed!
Not his usual incredulous tone.
He sounded surprised.

And he was… pleasantly.

The strawberries were sweet and tart, the cake was buttery, the marshmallow was light and just sweet enough but it all came together with the floral hint of basil - not mint.

Your eyes widened as he took a second bite.

"This one." he placed his fork on the half empty plate.
"You like it?" you asked standing with more energy than he could recall ever experiencing with you.
"I really do, as much as I hate to admit defeat," he chuckled,"this wasn't so bad."

You couldn't contain your excitement. Having Law like the food you made him always made you feel good, even when things were rough. But this felt almost like you'd won a Michelin star.

In your little celebration you'd moved forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. Law let out a surprised "oof" and hugged you back. This was the first time you had ever hugged him. Realizing you were basically in his lap, you pulled away slowly, the apology dying on your lips as he caught your gaze.

Had his eyes always had that little swirl of gold? How had you never noticed how beautiful they were? For a moment you just quietly stared at each other while the air around you shifted. As Law's left hand came up to wipe some frosting from your cheek the doorbell rang sending you to your feet. 

"I-I'll get it."

You could have just combusted on the spot. Quickly you straightened yourself up as you opened the door.

A young pink haired man stood next to a taller blonde. They both wore black suits and trench coats.

The younger man looked at you with a soft cordial smile, "Miss F/N L/N, we're with The NWO. We've got a few questions for you if you have the time."