The confusion was to be expected, but Memphis wasn't letting his guard down. Storm never cooked. The few times she had tried, the results were disastrous. As far as he knew, baking was even more difficult. He didn't have much experience in the kitchen, aside from his adventures in forgetting he was cooking, but Memphis was pretty sure that baking involved a little more precision and skill; two things Storm did not have. In the kitchen, that is.
"Domestic goddess?" His eyebrow raised as he eyed her, still afraid to approach. As much as he wanted those kisses, this new development had thrown him completely off track.
Moving towards the table as Storm set the pie down, he took the opportunity to use his powers of observation to assess the situation. The pie smelled good, but the scent of apple in the air lacked a distinct 'baking' smell that came with an oven and fresh ingredients. He also noted that there were no dirty dishes in the sink, yet she had flour all over her. Memphis was no expert, but he was pretty sure baking didn't involve strategically placed flour spots.
"A homemade apple pie, eh?" he mused, leaning over and sniffing it experimentally; as if expecting a poisonous scorpion to leap out at any moment. "What's the occasion?"