fandomhigh | Baking Workshop 7/3, Monday Morning

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cooking

Baking Workshop 7/3, Monday Morning

Piper smiles at the students as they arrive, but this time, it might be a sad smile. This is the last time they'd be in her workshop after all. "I hope you all brought recipes with you this morning. I brought copies of the brownie recipe in case any of you forgot."

She points out the plate of brownies in front of her. "I even made some for you."

"I'll be here if you need help with anything or if you have questions," Piper continues. She looks at all of them. "Thanks for making my first workshop somewhat successful...and for not burning the classroom down."

She couldn't help adding that last part.

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"I get that," Willow said. "Are you okay with Conner?"

"Sort of?" Anders fidgeted a little bit. "It's not a relationship or anything, it's just a thing, and I swear there's no kissing and imagining other people. I promised."

Then, slightly aggrieved, he asked, "Holy frak, does everybody know now or something?"

"It was on radio," Willow whispered.

Anders facepalmed. Or rather, facewhisked, as he'd been just about to start back in on his frittata. "Sometimes? I hate that radio."

"I get that," Willow said, giving him a look of sympathy.

[ooc: Going afk for a few hours, back later!]

"I bet that went over real well with some people," he muttered, taking it out on the poor unsuspecting eggs, even if they weren't (as far as he knew) evil.

[OOC: Okay!]

"So are you gay now?" Willow asked, purely curious.

Anders could have sputtered, or dropped his whisk, or done something massively spazzy right about now.

"You know," he said, lowering the whisk into the bowl of eggs because making frittata was honestly easier than spazzing, "I don't know. I feel a little weird, but I don't think I've changed or anything really. I mean, are you supposed to be able to tell? Or is it just a thing? I don't know if I want to say one way or the other, 'cause what if I change my mind?"

[OOC: And welcome back in style, indeed. *g*]

"Not like I know how it works," Willow said with a shrug. "Though I tell ya, this could've saved me a heck of a lot of time with Xander."

[ooc: *beams*]

Anders probably should have started chopping the herbs before he beat the eggs, but he hadn't, so he started doing that now. "Huh?"

"If I'd known he was gay," Willow said, as though that explained everything.

Not that it did, but Anders went along with it. "Oh. You mean you . . . huh."

"Yep," Willow said, folding her final ingredients together. "Could've saved a girl some time and heartache. Though on the upside Cordelia did get stabbed with a rebar so it wasn't all bad."

"Unless you're Cordelia," Anders said absently as he stirred the herbs into the egg mixture and started grinding the pepper.

He had, of course, completely missed the point.

"Exactly," Willow said. She started to put the souffle mixture into the ramekins. "So there was some good."

Anders had forgotten that little detail about freshly ground pepper that induces sneezing. He didn't forget to sneeze away from the food, though.

Okay, so there was spinach sauteing that had to happen here. That kind of worried him. "Maybe I could kiss the tomatoes and get the spinach stabbed with a rebar."

Willow put her souffles into the oven. "Need me to spot you?'

Anders started heating up his saute pan. "Sure!" He picked up one of the tomatoes. "Okay, pucker up."

This actually got a snicker out of her. "You want me to kiss them for you?"

Oooh, a snicker. Yay. "You take one, I'll take one?"

"Okay," Willow said, "but I'll have you know I only kiss vegetables platonically."

"Same here. I'm definitely not a vegetables guy. Not like that, anyway."

"At least we're narrowing it down," Willow said. She gave the tomato a quick kiss.

Feeling a little silly, Anders looked around to see if anyone else was watching and planted a brief but somewhat noisy kiss on his tomato. "I must be losing my touch. The spinach is completely unharmed."

"Could be because you're not cheating on anybody," Willow said. "Not unless Conner is possessive."

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