A recipe for disaster -- that’s what this was turning out to be. With a yelp of pain he dropped the pan of burnt cookies and dived for the faucet, sighing in relief as the cold cascade of water cooled the burn streak across his fingertips. Even his oven mitts weren’t cooperating, he thought, eyeing the gaping hole in one of them.

His latest baking spree had turned into a weekend long marathon, dotted with one disaster after another. In his estimation, sugar should not look exactly like salt. Accidents were bound to happen and he was sure he wasn't the first person to put a cup of salt into a batch of cookies. And who knew there were so many kinds of sugar anyway? Demerra, yellow, dark brown, fine, confectioner’s, cane…They looked different, felt different and definitely yielded different results when added to a batch of cookie dough. And since when did roll out cookies mean flattening out with a rolling pin, not rolling the dough into a ball? Or why hadn’t his mother warned him that baking soda and baking powder were not interchangeable? And that eggs came in different sizes but recipes didn’t specify which size was called for?

Head spinning, he muttered his exasperation in unflattering terms as he turned off the tap and set about cleaning the kitchen…again. He’d done little else the past two days and he was no closer to finding the perfect recipe, and the contest was this week! Cursing the collective bad luck of the ‘bullpen boys’ as Lucy had dubbed them he took out some of his frustration on the hapless charred remains of what were supposed to be his grandmother’s never-fail hermit cookies. He’d likely have to become a hermit after this fiasco was all over.

“Eleanor Rippendorf!” Her name rolled off his tongue like the vilest of oaths and he took great delight in upending the cookie tray into the garbage. If only Eleanor could be dismissed that easily.

She had cornered thier ususpecting group at a restaurant, just as she had in previous years, catching them unawares as they wolfed down a hasty lunch without the girls for protection. Sue and Lucy had gone to Charlie’s on some errand and Tara had been at an ill-timed dental appointment, which left the men of the team vulnerable to the attack.

Eleanor had swooped in, a chilling combination of coos and trills as she launched into her latest charity project. A celebrity bake off.

“That’s great, Eleanor, but we’re not celebrities,” he had pointed out with a false sense of relief.

“You are to me, fellas,” she’d said as she batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips. He’d known a moment of blind panic when he thought she was going to lean over and kiss him but D had deftly distracted her by lamenting his unavailability due to his married status.

“This time it doesn’t matter, handsome. We’re looking for the best cooks DC has to offer from all walks of life. I’ll put you in our Community Service Worker division. All we need from you is a plate of your very own home baked cookies and the recipe, written out in your own manly script. Our discerning judges…of which I am one…(twitter)…will provide the necessary tastebuds…(she rolled her tongue and poked it out the side of her mouth along with a suggestive wink)…We’ll decide who gets into the semi-finals. The finals take place on the Fourth of July when you’ll head up a hand-picked team to bake your cookies in our outdoor ovens and the public will decide who our top twelve winners will be. They win a page in our…Hunk of the Month calendar…photo and recipe included. All proceeds go to the children’s hospital…How can you say no to that?”

A hearty round of nays had echoed through the restaurant and that was that until the call came from upstairs. In the interest of improving public relations it was deemed beneficial for certain agents to volunteer their services to a charitable cause…

He’d been baking each weekend ever since and had yet to find an edible recipe and now time was running out.
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“Bobby…” She hissed, poking him in the ribs. “Bobby!!” His head jerked up off of where it was resting on his arm. “Would you wake up already?” He stared at her blankly. “It’s almost time for the morning briefing.”

“Oh…” Bobby said, stretching and rubbing his eyes. ‘What a strange dream,’ He thought. ‘Why was I dreaming about a bake off in July… it’s only February.’ He stifled a yawn and settled back into his chair, glancing at Tara as she made her way around the bullpen delivering information packets to the desks before everyone showed up. “Tara luv…” He said, staring at the front page of the packet. “What are you delivering to us anyway?”

She paused by his desk, glancing around before she leaned in and kissed him quickly. “There’s going to be a proposal for a fund raiser this summer.” She said quietly. “I overheard people talking in the bathroom this morning about it.”
His eyes widened. “A fund raiser?” he echoed. “It’s not going to be like that Bachelor auction, is it?” He asked, remembering the time that they’d had with that event.

Tara shrugged. “I don’t know, they didn’t sound very decisive about it yet, so I was thinking it was about time for our team to stand up and come up with an idea.” She smiled. “See if we can’t make things fun and enjoyable for everyone.” She eyed him curiously. “What I want to know is why you’re worried about another Bachelor auction?” she raised an eyebrow at him. “You… Bobby Manning… won’t be a Bachelor by summer.”

He grinned at her and his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down into his lap, ignoring her squeals and her hand slapping at him for doing it. “And you, Tara Williams… will be Tara Manning.” He whispered in her ear.

She stopped struggling against him, his breath hot and tickling her ear. “I can’t wait.” She admitted, looking up at him, into his green eyes. “And then what Bobby?” She asked.

He smiled down at her. “And then we shall be married… happily ever after and have smart, beautiful, chubby babies who take after their brilliant mother.”

Tara laughed. “Who know how to use their green eyes and dimples to their advantage to get their mother to do what ever they want because they know that she cannot resist their father when he does the same.” She teased.

“How long are we going to wait, Tara luv?” He asked, his mind already envisioning her body swelling gently with child… his child… their child.

“God will provide the babies when the time is right.” She said. “He knows when we’ll be ready to have those beautifully brilliant chubby babies.” She struggled to get out of his lap, even though she really didn’t want to.. .but she could hear Myles and Jack coming down the hall.

He let her up, pulling her back to steal a kiss. “What about the fundraiser?” He asked anxiously, visions of his earlier dream coming back to haunt him.

Tara shrugged. “Maybe we could suggest a cakewalk or something…” She thought out loud as she heard Lucy and Sue join in the conversation out in the hallway.

“Oi!” He rolled his eyes. “Nothing with baking…” He begged. “That would surely lead to disaster.”

Tara giggled. “But I think I have a recipe for disaster.” She complained. “Or was that a dump cake?” She wondered aloud, her brow furrowed.

“Maybe we could suggest a pool to see when Sue and Sparky will wake up and realize that they are meant for each other.” Bobby suggested, before a teasing glint came into his eyes. “Or a baby pool on when we’ll have one.” He teased.

Tara flushed pink, grateful that the team entered the bullpen and took over the rest of the conversation. She paused by his desk. “Maybe so… but you’re still going to tell me about why you’re set against baking…” She warned, watching him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the workday progressed and they had come up with a charity walk/run idea to propose to the fundraiser committee. He hoped that it would be chosen by them so that no one would have to suffer through a bake off and calendar… or the close contact of working with Rippendorf. Bobby was thrilled when Tara didn’t remember to ask him anything about it when they were out to dinner, and well… after dinner… He had her suitably distracted with his skillful administrations of teasing lips and roaming hands. He glanced up at the clock, ‘Good…’ He thought, ‘Almost midnight.’ Tara always liked to try and fall asleep by midnight. He tucked her a little closer and brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “Going to fall asleep on me, luv?” He asked, rubbing her back, thrilling at the shiver that coursed through her at the touch of his fingertips on her bare skin.

“Maybe.” She smiled, raising her head to look at him. “Bobby…” She said softly, raising a finger to trace his cheek, giggling when he kissed the tip of it. “What were you worried about today?”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t manage to suitably distract you from that, eh?” He asked, his hands venturing another trip down her sides to cup her body and shift it closer to him.

“Nope.” Tara shook her head. He kissed her forehead and told her about his dream from that morning. “Ah…” She nodded. “I can see why you were worried. But maybe they’ll pick our idea instead.” She shifted up to kiss him. “And disaster will be avoided, my sweet.” She kissed him again before settling down in his arms, resting her head on his chest. “Love you…” She whispered.

“Love you more.” He teased, rubbing her back again as he felt her relax against him. He was looking forward to his future with Tara… disaster might loom ahead of them from time to time, but he had every confidence that they would navigate each one together and come out stronger for it. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before they drifted off to sleep together.



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The End

Disaster Dump Cake

1 box yellow cake mix
1 20-ounce can crushed pineapple in syrup
1 21-ounce can cherry pie filling
1 cup chopped pecans
1 stick butter

Preheat oven to 350°.

Grease 9 x 13 cooking dish. Dump undrained pineapple into the pan. Spread evenly. Dump in pie filling and spread evenly. Dump dry cake mix onto cherry layer, then spread evenly. Sprinkle pecans over cake mix. Slice butter into thin pieces and place over pecan layer. (Tara’s note: I like to make this with blueberry pie filling and lemon cake mix, or apple pie filling and spice cake… both are yummy!)

Bake at 350° for 50 minutes. Serve warm or cool.

i liked that, really cute

cath

Agreed! A wonderful, short read.

A sweet read!

loved that!

that was great... can it have a sequel cos bobby tara and cute babies is fun

Very sweet! I enjoyed seeing this side of them.

Short, but sweet! I loved it

Poor Bobby, that's what he gets for dreaming about Eleanor instead of his wife....Tara should interrogate him on that!

kav

What an adorable couple Bobby and Tara make!!! Love this already, Mione!!!

I should not have read the recipe for the Disaster Dump Cake!! It's the end of my work day, I'm hungry and now all I want is cake with apples and spice!!!

Joy

AHem, you didn't say you posted this yet!!!

I liked, it was cute

A very sweet short short story Mione. And Kav is right, Bobby, you should be dreaming about Tara not Eleanor...that was a nightmare you had!

Now, Mione, are you going to follow this up with the wedding?

Lynn

I can't believe I just found this story! So cute! I love Bobby/Tara stories!

This was a cute little Bobby/Tara story. And the dump cake sounds delicious.

That was a great little short story. Bobby and Tara were very sweet together as were the images of cute little chubby babies!

Sairs

cute.

That was cute but too short.



Hope ~