Touch Of The Past

Chapter 31

Sorry it took so long, and it's kinda a dumb chapter, but I like it a lot. Anyway, enjoy!

"No! How did you do that?! That's fire! OH MY GOSH!"

She flies around, drawers slamming open and cupboards flying open and closed. "Where's the fire extinguisher! PHANTOM!"

I can't stop a smile at her panic. I freeze the pan and the fire with it. She stops, still in the air, her knees to her chest and her hands extended. "Not a fan of fire?" I ask.

"Heat is my weakness! How is it even possible for you to set the boiling water on fire?!"

I glance back at that the pot. My ice has started to melt, but not quickly. "I told you I'm not very good at cooking."

"You said you cook all the time?!"

"Oh. I guess I did say that. I don't have any memories though." She smacks her head. "I'm good enough. At least good enough not to set water on fire." I walk over to the stove and inspect the pan. "And good enough to know to never let Tucker and Robin in the kitchen."

She uncoils, shutting all the drawers and cupboards with her mind. "What do you mean?"

I point to the pot. "That's oil. They put oil in the water."

"How did we miss that?" she asks, peering at the water nervously.

I shrug. "It's probably colorless or something."

"They're jerks," she huffs.

"Yes, but we're the cooks," I reply, taking the water and dumping it all in the sink, the ice chunk breaking in two. She gives me a "so?". In response, I open the spice drawer and hold up a bottle of red pepper flakes.

She smiles.

I convince her to make something that's not pasta, and we settle on stirfry and french toast. What? I like stirfry, she's never had french toast. It was a compromise.

Don't ask me how I know how I like both those food items, because I won't be able to answer.

We use two different pans. Since I don't remember how to make stirfry, she hands me tasks to do as she follows the recipe and actually does the cooking. Currently I'm chopping up a bunch of random vegetables, including onions. Gag.

M'gann is adding oil to the pan (not without inspecting it first though), and gathering the chopped chicken and dropping it into the pan, causing it to sizzle. She frowns slightly at the sparking oil before going over to the sink to wash her hands.

When she turns back, she gasps. Confused, I look up at her. "Danny, are you okay?" she whispers.

Why... Oh, the onions. I resist the urge to smile. My eyes are steaming and it probably looks like I'm crying. "It..." I gulp, turning away. "It just gets so hard sometimes." My voice shakes, but not from tears. Well, not from tears of pain, anyway.

"Oh, Danny." She flies over and throws her arms around me. I stifle a giggle. "What... are those onions?" She pulls away with an annoyed expression. "You're just as bad as Tucker and Robin!"

I laugh and turn back to the onions.

"Speaking of which... Why isn't he ever a civilian?" I muse, moving the knife along the cutting board, careful to keep it away from my fingers and out of my flashbacks.

"Batman doesn't want anyone to know who he is," she replies over her shoulder, sprinkling the chicken with several different spices from her palm. "He wears civilian clothes sometimes. But he also wears sunglasses."