"I'm sure you'll think of something clever," Porthos retorts with a hungry look in his eyes, heading for the oven to get out the cake that's been warming with the sauce, pouring it on top and drizzling some of the sea-salt pieces atop it so that it's ready. He pours some port in glasses and brings those over first before returning to fetch the cake, settling in Aramis' lap with no warning when he's back.

Beaming away, he doesn't feel inclined to move, brandishing a fork. "Here you are. Now, let's eat?"