Katie's Misadventures in the Kitchen -- Alisia

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Title: Katie's Misadventures in the Kitchen
Author: Alisia
Rating: PG.
Disclaimers: I don't own Katie and Simon Frasier. You can be sure that if I did, they'd get lots more screen time.

"Honey, I'm home!" Simon called as he walked through the door, letting it slam behind him. He knew it drove Katie crazy when the door slammed. Simon sighed. So much for being a rebel. He could give that idea up if slamming a door in his own house was the worst of his activities.

"In the kitchen," Katie called.

Simon threw his jacket on the nearest chair and went to find his wife. Simon was working for Lucinda, and he was making enough that he and Katie had moved out of Craig's suite into a small house. Definitely cannot be a rebel if you have a mortgage, though. It was just as well, really, because Simon actually liked his job – no set hours, he didn't have to wear a tie – and he finally felt comfortable enough to turn Katie loose with credit cards. She was supposed to have spent the day shopping for the house, but looking around, Simon saw no evidence of shopping bags.

"Hello, Mrs. Frasier," Simon murmured as he came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Katie's waist, kissing the neck that was left exposed when Katie pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

She turned in his arms to kiss him. "How was your day?"

"Good." He looked around the kitchen, but again saw no shopping bags. "I thought you were going shopping today."

"I did."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Katie shook her head excitedly. "There's a new lamp in the living room, a throw rug in the bedroom, and new drapes for the dining room. And-" she paused for dramatic effect, "this." She smiled at him.

"It's a toaster," Simon observed, clearly unimpressed.

"It's not just a toaster."

"It's not?"

"Absolutely not. It's a stainless steel, kitchen series 3000, large slot toaster. You know, so you can do bagels and stuff like that."

"Oh good, I was worried about bagels."

"Simon!"

"Katie, it's just a toaster."

"It matches our blender."

"Would you mind explaining to me your fascination with kitchen appliances?" Katie opened her mouth, as if to explain, so Simon jumped back in. "Never mind. Forget I asked."

"I also bought a spice rack. It matches, too."

"Good."

"Simon," Katie drawled, "You didn't even look!"

Simon turned his head to see where Katie was pointing, and he started to laugh. "You alphabetized the spices!"

"I like to be organized." She glared at him. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing. I'm just thinking back to when you alphabetized all the tires at the garage." When he continued to laugh, she crossed her arms across her chest and waited for him to finish. "I'm sorry," Simon said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Just for that, I'm not letting you have any of the wonderful dinner I'm going to prepare. I stopped at the gourmet shop to buy all the spices, so we were going to have quite a feast."

Simon smiled at her. "Isn't there anything I can do to convince you that I'm sorry?" He walked over to Katie, clearly ready to kiss her again.

"You can hang the curtain rods in the dining room," she suggested.

"That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"It'll be perfect."

"I can't see how."

She just smiled at him. "The universe will be balanced. You do your job; I do my job. You'll go hang up the curtain rods, and by the time you're finished, dinner will be ready." She reached up to a shelf above the counter to grab one of her many cookbooks.

Simon, realizing she had set her mind on this course for the evening, gave up. "Ok. I'll go hang the curtains."

She beamed at him. "Thank you."

Simon walked back through the house to the garage, grabbed a drill, and returned to the dining room. He pulled the old curtain rods down, laying them on the table, careful not to knock over Snicker's cage. He looked at the bunny and said, "She wants me to hang curtains. Like there isn't anything else we could be doing right now." He shook his head; the bunny did not seem to be taking the situation seriously. "We finally have total privacy, and she'd rather play with the toaster." Still Snickers showed no interest. "Katie?" Simon yelled.

"Yeah?"

"I'm putting the rabbit in the garage."

"Leave Snickers alone."

Simon just glared at the bunny. "I am still in charge here, ‘ya know. I could put you in the garage if I really wanted to." Simon stopped and thought about what he was doing. "This is sad. I'm talking to a rabbit when I should be making love to my wife. Forget the curtains."

Simon put everything down and began to walk back to the kitchen.

"Simon?" Katie called. "Are you done yet?"

"No," he replied.

"Then why are you coming back here?"

"How did you hear that?" he asked frustrated and turned back to the curtains. He looked down at Snickers in his cage. "Not a word."

Simon finished his meal and put his napkin on the table. "That was excellent."

"Thank you," Katie beamed.

"Martha Stewart would be proud."

"Don't mock Martha Stewart."

"I'm just saying. Forget Martha Stewart; here comes Katie Frasier."

"Thank you," she paused. "I think."

"So, dessert now?" Simon grinned at her, clearly indicating he did not intend for dessert to come from the kitchen.

"Oh no!" Katie jumped up and ran into the kitchen. "I forgot!"

Simon, puzzled, followed her into the kitchen and was greeted by a waft of smoke. "We need to put smoke detectors on your next shopping list."

He meant it to lighten the mood, but Katie was not to be distracted. "I ruined it!"

"That's ok."

"No, it's not. It was going to be perfect. I even had whipped cream for the top."

"Top of what?" Simon asked, peering at the burnt shapes in the pan, unable to identify what they should have been.

"Shortcakes."

Simon closed the oven door, opened a window, and kissed Katie's forehead. "Dinner was amazing. Don't worry about it."

Katie stalked over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of whipped cream, pulling off the top as she walked back to lean against the counter.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"I don't want it to go to waste, so I'm going to eat it," she replied simply, bending her head back and pushing on the nozzle of the can so that a drop of whipped cream landed on her tongue. "Perfect." She eyed her husband, who was watching her with a smirk on his face. "Want some?"

"Sure." He reached for the bottle, but Katie shook her head.

"Open your mouth." He looked surprised, but did as he was told.

Katie smiled. It was just too tempting. She couldn't resist. She lifted the container up to Simon's mouth, but held it at an angle so that the sugary concoction covered his nose and cheek instead of landing in his mouth.

"Oops," she giggled at the surprised look on Simon's face.

Somehow, Simon didn't think it was a mistake that the whipped cream had missed his mouth. He wiped some of the cream off his cheek and tasted it. "Good. But you know what I think would be better?"

He made a move to grab the bottle, but Katie danced out of the way. As he turned, another dollop of cream hit him, this time just above his eye. "Katie?"

"Hmmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she smiled innocently, and then more whipped cream landed on Simon.

"Give me that."

"Nope!" she dodged out of the way. "You'll have to come and get it koala-boy."

"Oh, here we go with the nicknames again."

"Well, it was koala-boy or dingo-boy, and that didn't sound very nice." "Oh, well, when you put it like that," he lunged for her again and missed. Frustrated, he turned toward the sink, grabbing a dishtowel and wiping off the whipped cream. "Fine, have your fun."

She stopped, thinking about whether or not Simon would give up that easily. Unfortunately for Katie, when she stopped moving, Simon was able to grab her and the bottle.

"Simon put me down!"

"Absolutely not."

"Where are we going?" she asked in her best innocent voice as Simon began carrying her out of the kitchen, his arm wrapped around her waist and her feet just above the floor.

"I'll give you three guesses," he grinned. With that Simon sprayed a little whipped cream on Katie's collarbone and licked it off. "You were right. This should not be wasted."

Katie laughed and gave in to the moment. It's not like the household stuff wouldn't be there for her tomorrow. Besides, she was quite enjoying Simon's pattern with the whipped cream.

Simon set Katie down on the bed and kneeled in front of her. "Hi," he smiled.

"Hi," she answered back. Then she looked down and saw the whipped cream bottle. "Simon?"

"Hmmm?"

"If I ask you to do something, will you do it?"

He looked up at her, intrigued. "Absolutely."

"Could you please try not to get whipped cream on the new rug?"

"That's it!" Simon playfully grabbed her and pushed her down on the bed. Katie's smile turned into full out laughter. "I am going to spend the rest of the evening making sure that thoughts of rugs and toasters don't enter your mind."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Just wait."

"Because I really like thinking about the house," she teased. "I even – oh my!"

"That's how," Simon laughed. "So what were you saying Mrs. Frasier?"

"Absolutely nothing important."

"Something about the kitchen, I believe?"

"What kitchen?"

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

The End