The Marian of some time past might have inflicted pain on him for such a move. He was very glad that was no longer the case, especially since their current stances were having a much, much more pleasant effect on him than her fist in his gut had done. That was something that should go without saying, but the silly thought rather fit the mood of the moment. The way she wrinkled up her nose right before he smeared the stuff all over her face was adorable, and when she had wiped some of it off with the towel, he could not resist.
He was just about to lean in to kiss her, batter and all, when she emptied the bowl on his head. Robin stood there in surprise, rivulets of sugary goop running down his hair and onto his shoulders; fortunately, he realized in time that she was about to take off. Wrapping both arms carefully but firmly around her waist, he said, "Oh, no, milady; I insist." And, bowing his head a bit, he shook it back and forth, sending droplets of batter everywhere-- with Marian at the middle of it.