"There's flour in your hair," Gil pointed out helpfully.
Harry sighed and swiped a hand across his forehead. "I know."
"And there's butter on your shirt."
"Aye."
"And there's-"
"Gil!"
Gil fell silent. Harry whisked angrily at the bowl cradled in one arm, the blueish mixture within sloshing dangerously. "Whose stupid idea was agreeing to this?"
"Will you hit me if I say yours?"
"Without a doubt, mate."
"Then I won't." Gil leaned against the counter. "But c'mon, it's for Evie's birthday! That's a good cause, right?"
"I know that."
"Who signed you up to do the cake, anyway?"
Harry groaned. "Uma thinks it's funny to watch me suffer."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. Now get me the blueberries, will you? I'm s'posed to fold them in. How do I fold?"
Gil crossed the cluttered space and began riffling through the small refrigerator. Harry tried not to curse as some of the batter landed on his shoe. He felt only slightly better when a large block of cheese tumbled off a shelf and plopped onto Gil's toe.
"Ouch." Gil kicked the offending dairy product away. "That hurt. Maybe we should throw cheese next time we have to fight someone, huh? That'll send them packing."
He looked very pleased with this new idea.
"Would you get a move on with those blueberries?"
"Yup! Here they- ow." This time it was a bag of particularly shiny red apples whose bid for freedom ended at Gil's foot."There's way too much stuff in this fridge."
"Blueberries."
"Yeah!" Gil said cheerfully, locating and handing them over. "You gotta fold them, remember?"
"Aye, I remember." Harry peered over his armful of bowl to consult the recipe book, transferring the spatula to his teeth so as to free up a hand to flip a page. "Folding... folding. Here."
He took the implement in hand again. "Pour them in. Slowly."
Gil's nose wrinkled, as it always did when he was concentrating. "Okay."
He began tilting berries into the mix. Harry folded carefully. Before long, most of the berries were incorporated into the batter with only a few of them joining the mess of spilled ingredients on the floor.
"The oven's preheated?"
"I think so!"
Harry checked. It wasn't.
He sighed.
He was going to get Uma for this if it was the last thing he did.
"Nahhhh, you won't," chuckled Gil.
Harry shook his head. "Did I say that out loud?"
"Yup!"
The first mate stifled a laugh. "Aye, you're probably right. But let's get that oven on already."