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Toying with an unlit cigarette, the little white cylinder neatly revolving between his fingers, Jack glanced over to where his roomie sat, reading the paper at the kitchen island. It was a thought, at least. Which was better than what he had been entertaining for the past couple of hours. Spinning the cigarette near Evie, he nearly lost it to her reaching grasp. She giggled and bounced, splashing over the counter. That pulled him from his thoughts and he looked down at her guiltily. "Don't worry, lil bit," he murmured. "I'm still here. Just got t' thinkin'."

"About what?"

"Dessert." With that, he tucked the cigarette behind his ear and picked up the glass before moving over to lean against the counter near Shade. "What d'ya know 'bout food, mate?" he offered as a conversation opener.

"An' I have t' make it," Jack interrupted. With his free hand, he dug out a crumpled piece of paper and dropped it in front of the other man. "Evie's got a potluck t' go to an' I haven't a clue. Somehow I reckon they'd frown on a six pack."

"Soda?" Evie craned her neck to look up at her father. "You can bring soda. Then no one will drink us by mistake!"

"One o' those cakes?"

"Jack'll just burn it." Brunswick fluttered to a stop on the counter and motioned for Jack to lower Evie to join him. Without more than a snort, Jack obliged and Evie held out her hands in delight for a hug that came but only barely qualified as such. Stepping back, Brunswick smirked. "Jack just about manages to get his tea right."

A lazy hand gently knocked the feien on his backside. "Shut it, Bruns," Jack laughed. "I can do tea an' eggs just fine. It's sweeties. I've never baked a day in my life."

"Is it just me or do these feien have really bloody good hearing?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jack cringed visibly. He hadn't meant to very-nearly-curse in front of Evie. Sometimes it was far too easy to forget. Especially after having Brunswick around; he had never needed protecting.

Evie cocked her head to one side as Brunswick snickered. Then she blinked and giggled. "What about fruit, Daddy?" she offered, clearly hoping to help. If she picked up on his word choice, she was keeping mum on it. "Or... Are there things you don't bake?"

"We -are- both responsible adults, right?"

Here Brunswick saw fit to dissolve into vicious snickering behind his hand.

Jack picked up the box and squinted at the instructions on the back. "Well, follow this stuff," he speculated. "Shouldn't be hard. I bind demons for the love o' all little green things. I ought t' be able t' crack an egg."

"Really? I didn't know that." Jack took the egg from Shade gently and tucked it back in the box, drawing the whole thing towards him. "I reckon Mum -wished- I had been born in one. Then Da would've had t' help."

"I thought birds were born in eggs." Evie gazed up at Shade with puzzled interest, arms folded on the rim of her glass. "You're not a bird, Shade."

"Just the one Trinity brought over one day for daquiris." Jack motioned vaguely towards a blender. "So spoon it is. Good thing you're so big an' manly, mate."

Evie beamed. "Shade -is- strong, Daddy," she agreed. "I saw him lifting lots of things. He's even stronger than -Brunswick-."

"... I think she's sayin' I'm a wimp," Jack laughed. "If you're stronger than Bruns an' I'm nowhere on that list, I'll just go get a frilly apron an' pearls an' swoon for you."