"I think it's important you realize that this is for special occasions only and I will literally take my scythe to you if this gets out." There Jonathan stood, adorned in a pink, frilly apron, taking a lumpy pie from the oven and setting it down to cool. Bridgette merely smiled and continued whisking the whipped cream for it, licking a finger.
"I am thinking that if we are going to bake more often together mon petit Chou, you will need an apron of your very own. A 'spooky' one perhaps?" He merely grunted in response but she could see the slight smile.