Summary: M-21 can't sleep and Frankenstein helps to distract him.

Set post-season 3.

Guess who thought this would be less than 500 words?

Wake Up and Bake

By Dark Ice Dragon

M-21 grimaced as he walked down the stairs. He'd woken up thanks to a nightmare and he wasn't interested in trying to get back to sleep in case he had another one. Distracted himself from the feeling of helplessness would help.

The living room light was on and he headed for that.

Only Frankenstein was there, his Master nowhere in sight. He must have gone to bed, and seeing what the time was, when did Frankenstein sleep?

"Mm?" Frankenstein glanced over at the door and peered at M-21 over his glasses. "Is there something wrong?"

M-21 shrugged, walking in. "Couldn't sleep." It wasn't anything new. He'd intended to watch some TV to keep himself up, but if Frankenstein was there doing something, he would make himself some tea instead.

"I see. Well then," Frankenstein said, closing the notebook in his hand with a snap, sliding his pen into its spiral binding, "would you like to help me bake some cookies?"

…Where had that come from?

Frankenstein smiled. "I noticed we're running low."

Oh. The children had eaten three plates between them the last time they'd visited, hadn't they?

"Sure," M-21 said, leaving the kettle untouched. He didn't have anything better to do.

They went downstairs to Frankenstein's main kitchen in his lab. It looked like it was more part of the house than the lab, the metallic sheen only kept to a few surfaces rather than everything in sight.

M-21 raised an eyebrow at the pink apron Frankenstein presented to him, a smile curving the corners of his lips. "Not a labcoat?" he asked, taking it and putting it on. It was what Frankenstein seemed to prefer in his lab. That, and M-21 associated a pink apron with cleaning dishes now.

"I thought it would be best if I didn't have you wear something that would remind you of the Union," Frankenstein said, putting on his own pink apron.

Hah. Trust Frankenstein to think about that.

"Now then," Frankenstein said, pressing a few buttons in the wall and a recipe appeared on one of the walls. "These are measurements for unmodified human tastes – you can adjust them to your own preferences once you know the outcome."

M-21 nodded, memorising the list.

Now to do it.

xOx

M-21's nose wouldn't stop twitching while the cookies were in the oven.

"They're nearly done," Frankenstein said, his voice a little distant. Once they'd finished cleaning up, Frankenstein had brought out his notebook and started writing in it.

M-21 glanced at the oven again. …Maybe next time he should bring a book with him. Because there would be a next time.

He looked over when he heard a noise – Frankenstein had placed his notebook down and was slipping on a pair of oven gloves.

He got out the way as Frankenstein walked over and opened the oven. M-21's nostrils flared as the full scent of the cookies hit him.

They smelled really good.

"You need to wait another ten minutes for them to be cool enough to eat," Frankenstein said as he transferred the cookies to a wire rack.

M-21 nodded, studying the wisps of heat rising from the cookies. It was…weird. He'd helped Frankenstein in the kitchen before, with taste testing or watching him make something before carrying it up to the dining room, but he'd never made something before. Not like this.

Once they were ready, the cookie still warmed his hand as M-21 picked one up and his eyes widened as the cookie landed on his tongue. It was sweet – not quite like Raizel-nim's, but it was still strong enough to notice.

He yawned after finishing it, shaking his head. Hn. That had had tired him more than he thought it would. Maybe that was the point. M-21 took another cookie and ate it, feeling it warm him.

"I'll go store the rest of these," Frankenstein said, and M-21 nodded, yawning as he undid his apron.

He left for his bedroom and as soon as M-21 curled up in his bed, he fell asleep.

xOx

It had been less than a week before M-21's next nightmare. The living room light was on again when he went downstairs, a book in hand. It was something he'd found while waiting for Tao to finish studying all the electronics in the section; the plot seemed far enough removed from what he'd experienced that he could enjoy it.

This time it looked like Frankenstein was correcting documents. When Frankenstein looked up, he smiled at M-21.

"Do you want to bake some more cookies?" Frankenstein asked and M-21 nodded.

Preparing everything didn't take as long as the previous time, now that M-21 knew where everything was and how much strength he could use.

The ingredients though… M-21 tilted his head at the recipe, looking at everything.

"M-21?"

He shook his head, then paused. "Are we making this batch for Raizel-nim?" Frankenstein had said this recipe was for unmodified humans, not his Master.

Frankenstein blinked at him. "We're making the batch for you." He'd said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

…And he was the one who kept waking up in the middle of the night and Frankenstein was the one who suggested baking cookies to distract him. Of course they were making the cookies for him.

"Then we can make these ones with less sugar?" M-21 asked. "The last batch was a little too sweet." It wouldn't have been for Raizel-nim, but that was Raizel-nim.

Frankenstein smiled. "Of course."

When they'd slid the filled trays into the oven, Frankenstein didn't turn to his corrections straight away. "You're free to come here whenever you want," he said, looking at M-21. "And you don't have to bake cookies."

Hm. "Thanks," M-21 said. Frankenstein and Raizel-nim made sure to tell him he could do and go wherever he wanted in the house (so long as he didn't leave a mess), but there were still some places that he felt he shouldn't go.

"I like baking cookies," M-21 added with a shrug. They were easy enough to make and he hadn't gotten sick of the taste yet. And if he did…

Frankenstein chuckled, picking up his sheets of papers. "Very well."

He wasn't as bad a Raizel-nim with ramen, and M-21 was sure he saw that exact thought in the way Frankenstein's lips curved.

xOx

M-21 sighed, running a hand through his hair as he walked down the stairs. He wrinkled his nose when is hair flopped back into his face until he swept it to the side.

…Oh. The light wasn't on in the living room.

M-21 quashed the disappointment in his stomach as he peeked into the room. It was empty and M-21 sighed, hovering there.

Well, it wasn't as if he could expect Frankenstein to be there every time he had trouble sleeping. M-21 frowned at himself and then shook his head, drumming his fingers over his book.

…Frankenstein did say he could bake whenever he wanted.

Decision made, M-21 closed the door and went down to the kitchen.

xOx

M-21 breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled the tray out – the cookies looked about the same as the last time he'd baked them.

He smiled to himself as he cleaned the counter.

Maybe next time he could try something different. He knew what the others liked, so he could try to find recipes that had. And maybe he could find cookie cutters as well, to personalise them more.

But first, he would sleep.

I saw a conversation that essentially said badass characters would barely be able to navigate a kitchen and would never wear a pink apron or bake cookies unless they'd been forced to. So this is my response to that.