[attr="class","samjermain"]She could rewrite the very fabric of life. Beings of the elements were set aquiver by the scalpel and syringe in her hand. Obviously, preparing cupcakes for an office party would be child’s play. Or, at the least, that would be what her husband led her to believe.

At the moment, it looked like that child had violent, sociopathic tendencies. Apparently, the lock on the mixer needed to be clicked into place before you flipped the damnable thing on. A lesson that—judging by the state of her kitchen—would not be soon forgotten. Deep red coated almost every surface in sight. It ruined the monochromatic counters and stained the white cabinets.

The flying batter completely missed the scientist’s apron as well, leaving her cheeks and skin dotted with streaks of blood-red sludge. With what remained in the bowl, only six or seven cupcakes were feasible. Still, she supposed six were better than zero. While cleaning herself off, Calpurnia lost track of time. When she returned to the kitchen, the cupcakes in the oven were closer to charcoal than edible.

A glance at the clock made her sigh. Preparing another batch of cupcakes before the children’s bedtime would be quite the tall order. Perhaps the time had arrived to call in a teensy-weensy flavor. So, she sent a text to Gerry Bear. One with the word help in all caps and a crying emoji.

A big manly knock set the door trembling. Calpurnia checked her camera to see her all-grown-up nephew posing like a goon in an action comic. “Just a second, Ger!” Calpurnia called as she pushed the door open. What seemed to be blood was all over her apron and face, but she didn’t look inuredShe pulled him into a hug, crushing him against her chest. “You look like the extra in a gothic opera!” Calpurnia clicked her tongue. “Are you allergic to color?”

The smell of burnt baked goods flowed outward.

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Gerald waited. Growing increasingly impatient with each passing second.

He was but a few of those seconds away from grabbing the door and opening it, when Calpurnia did the job for him.

Surprise smeared itself on his otherwise stoic face when shades of red adorned the apron and face alike. His heart skipped a beat, his body almost immediately ready to start pumping adrenaline.

But then she hugged him tight. Uncomfortably tight. Chest against chest. His body tensed, he wanted out, free from the chokehold.

“I am not allergic.” He stated bluntly, yet his wardrobe was sure to disagree.

“So, what is it you need help with?” He asked as he made his way out of the hug. By then the smell of something burnt hit his nose. And he suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

MISSION: AFFECTIONS CONFECTIONS
LOCATION: Sotopolis City

[attr="class","samjermain"]Aww! He really was just a feral little cat! All grumpy hisses and arched back whenever someone showed him the teensiest bit of affection. It made her want to amp things up a little bit. Then again, she detested people who resisted her. Still, the poor dear was here to help her. Perhaps it was best not to frighten him away.

With some reluctance, she released Gerry from her embrace. As always, the hint of a pout was apparent. A look that somehow said, ‘leaving so soon?’ without a single decibel. Violet eyes did sparkle, however, when she noticed the dot of red she’d left behind. It brought some much-needed color to her nephew’s dour, sallow little face. Not that she would breathe a word about it. Poor baby boy—such a sensitive soul.

At his protest, one manicured brow went up. A critical gaze swept up and down his form, confirming her earlier suspicions. Her honey dumpling had no idea how to dress. Did he not know that goths stopped being cute at 16 or 17? Voice brimming with disbelief, she posed a question. “Is that right?” They likely both knew it wasn’t. “I really think you would look good in pink. It’d soften all of those—” She waved her hand at him in a vague fashion, not quite sure how to summarize his prickly cactus demeanor. “--edges.”

When he asked why she’d summoned him, like he minded. Calpurnia smiled. But it was not a kind gesture. It indicated bad things, whether that meant chores or a scolding was hard to tell. “I need help getting cupcakes ready for the office party tomorrow!” She sighed. “Without your uncle here—” She sniffed. Dabbed at her dry lashes. “--it is hard to make room for all these silly little things.” The woman moved to take Gerald’s coat, closing the door behind him. Cutting off his escape. Trapping him here.

She moved to take his coat. If allowed, she would move to grasp and squeeze his tense shoulders. “I need a big strong man to bake some cupcakes.” Hopefully, with two of them, they could get the job done.

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Gerald let the comment about his choice in colors pass. Something told him that if he pushed the subject, she would somehow manage to convince him to at least try it out. And he wasn’t about to let that happen, not now, not ever. But he knew she had a way with words that he did not.

“Cupcakes?... “ He repeated in disbelief. Had his dear aunt not already been half way to taking off his coat, he would’ve turned and left on the spot. But somehow that combined with a small sniff and some dabbing at dry lashes, and he was starting to consider going against his better judgment.

Only when the door closed behind him and he felt her hands grabbing at his tense shoulders did he realize that it was too late to even consider it. Even if he wanted to, he could no longer run.

His body released the tension in defeat, alongside a small inaudible sigh. “I suppose I can help with that.”

MISSION: AFFECTIONS CONFECTIONS
LOCATION: Sotopolis City

[attr="class","samjermain"]With the man’s coat removed, Calpurna would toss it over her entry coat rack. Notably, she left a gap between it and her own tweed jacket—as if scared his humdrum personality and dour ways might contaminant it. Beneath its benched seat, her children’s shoes poked out. All of them were surprisingly clean, considering they were worn by school-aged students.

“Yes, love.” She crooned into his ear as she stepped back. A bare sock moved to tap at his feet, a reminder that her floors were entirely shoe free. A sigh passed her lips. “ I know your mother did not cook, but surely you know what they are?”Then, she turned on the dry waterworks. For all his attempts at being a stone-hearted ninny muffin, Gerry really did care about people. That’d been why he went through the trouble of taking his sister with him after all. And, well, that was a trait easily made use of.


Her hands clapped together, the gesture more at home at a golf course than any place of real excitement. “Magnifico!” If he turned, he’d find a rare real smile on her face. For a moment, his auntie was the picture of innocence—the similarity to his dear mother clear as day. “Let’s get you an apron!” The hall closet popped open as she pulled one out.


For a moment that mask cracked. “Oh…” This one had been hubby’s favorite. The stupid pun is right up his small-brained alley. She stroked the patch at its center, the Bolthund’s head as familiar as the lines of her husband’s chest. Though that was partially because this apron almost always ended with them naked. “Maybe not that one, hm?” Hanging it back up, she quickly pulled out another.


This one was yellow with a smiling Sunflora on it. In bright green text, it stated: ‘I like my eggs sunny-side up!' That man really did love yellow, didn’t he? Such a silly, airy color. “This one works!” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it at Gerry’s face.


“We can make extra if you want, love.” Kelpie made her way to the kitchen, turning her head to hide tears. “I’m sure your sister would love something homemade.” Poor dear likely subsisted on fast food.

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The poke of a bare sock reminded him of something important. Without further ado, he took off his shoes, using nothing but gently applying pressure at the heel. Once off he would place them near the shoe rack in a bit of a disorderly fashion with one shoe standing straight, the other lying on its side.

If Calpurnia thought the dry water works would work on him, then she would be absolutely correct. He knew it was fake, all of it, and yet that small ‘what if it isn’t’ urged him on, forcing him to accept.

He turned just in time to see the smile, the similarity between his mother and his Aunt, stunning.

From there the situation quickly moved on. Calpurnia quickly threw an apron at him, through sheer reflexes alone he caught it before it fell upon his head. He gave it a look, and then sent a look of ‘are you serious?’ at his dear aunt. He was not a fan of the color, nor the Pokémon, though he could appreciate the joke made.

Gerald released a sigh. Knowing there’d be no arguing, he adorned the apron. And followed her into the kitchen.

“I am sure she would.” Gerald stated blankly, either not noticing or caring about the dig at his cooking skills or perhaps lack thereof. His sister never really complained about the choice of foods he offered her. Admittedly it wasn’t all homemade, actually far from it, but he made do with the leisure time Team Rocket allowed him.


MISSION: AFFECTIONS CONFECTIONS
LOCATION: Sotopolis City

[attr="class","samjermain"]Watching his shoes settle into place, Calpurnia did her best not to pull a face. Instead, she took a single, calming breath. Her violet eyes quickly averted from the crooked shoes in her perfectly manicured forest. It really was her job to be grateful. It’s not Gerry’s fault he was raised by ignorant fools, love. Training him will take time. Still, the instant he turned away, she would take a moment to tidy the rack.

His shoes would be straightened, so that they lay in a perfect, orderly row with the rest of the other sneakers.

Slovenly habits spread like wildfire. First, she’d find a jacket cast over a chair. Then, before she knew it, her house would be a mess. Before long, she would end up on an episode of Hoarders. What a pitiful state of affairs. It made her grateful she had yet to see Gerry’s little hovel.

The boy’s ghost impression coaxed out a laugh. Such a simple, silly boy her nephew was. Her smile remained—unchanged—as he gave her a look of perplexion. It really was a sweet little outfit—a way to set off his dark little outfit. She could sense his hesitation, like a shark blood in water. Some part of her wanted him to protest. It’d distract her from the loneliness now nipping at her heels. Let’s see if the puppy makes a piddle

Instead of protesting, the dark-haired man slipped the apron on. It made quite the sight paired with his normal clothes. Kelpie clapped excitedly, moving as if to ruffle the boy’s mop of a head. “Awwwww! Look at you!” Her manicured hands stopped short—perhaps turned off by what she perceived as grease. “I bet a young lady would be dying to tear this thing off of you!” Something she knew from experience.

His deadpan expression was barely acknowledged as she made her way into the disaster of the kitchen. “Maybe we can throw some sprinkles on hers.” She pondered her words for a moment. “She liked those last time I checked.” Children were so fickle, though.

Gesturing to the mess in front of her, Calpurnia smiled. “I suppose we should clean this trial run up first?” She swayed, smiling. “I may have gone a teensy-weensy bit overboard.”

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While the clapping elicited nothing but a low embarrassed grumble from Gerald, the moving to ruffle his hair caused him to take a step back and flinch mildly. While Kelpie had stopped for her own reasons, raised hands had never been a good thing for Gerald.

Luckily his mind was given something else to deal with shortly after as Kelpie summoned a blush to his cheeks. One single word left his lips in a low embarrassed mumble. “Right…” He had not been so fortunate in that department. He blamed his Rocket schedule for that.

Moving into the kitchen Gerald gazed upon a sight of disaster. For a quick fickle moment he regretted his decision to help. “A bit overboard?” Gerald echoed with a low grumble.

If this is a bit, I don’t want to see you go a lot overboard. He thought as he went to work cleaning this mess up, doing so with the skill and speed befitting a professional.


MISSION: AFFECTIONS CONFECTIONS
LOCATION: Sotopolis City

[attr="class","samjermain"]Calpurnia could be best referred to as lukewarm when it came to her children. However, much of this cooling came with age. Still, she ruffled the occasional head from time to time. The idea that it might be offensive or frightening to Gerry never crossed her mind. “Ah.” The woman’s hand jerked back.

Even with her silver tongue, she could not find a way to apologize for the assumption. Acknowledging what had happened would mean acknowledging all of the terrible things that brought it out. So, in the end, Calpurnia offered nothing more than a nod. Airing dirty laundry was not on tonight’s to-do list.

“I can set you up, you know?” The woman purred—resisting her natural urge for intimacy. It would be easy for her to find flincing insulting. But she had seen how the boy and his sister grew up. There was a reason contact with her sister rarely went beyond obligatory Christmas cards and birthday wishes.

At his critique, that earlier clemency vanished. What an ungrateful little urchin. “It is not that bad, Gerry. There’s no reason to be so dramatic.” Violet eyes trailed across the mixing bowl before sliding to the batter splattered across her lower cabinets. As her nephew rushed to clean the mess up, Calpurnia followed a few feet behind him.

“I really do appreciate you stopping by, Gerry.” She sighed as she pulled the burnt baking sheet from the oven. Whatever red had been there was gone. “It’s been hard you know.” The scientist shook her head—the moment of vulnerability a rare crack in her veneer.

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