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He’d had the idea in the middle of the night. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but he was starting to rethink that.
(He hadn’t been able to sleep. It’s fine, elves don’t need sleep anyway, he’d told himself. Though, right now, he was wishing he’d been able to sleep instead.)
It had been years since he’d done any stress baking, and yet here he was. His hands were shaking, which made piping the batter difficult. Macarons required patience and a steady hand, neither of which he had right now.
He’d slipped out of the dorm to get supplies at the Fantasy Costco - it was lucky the store was open 24 hours - and somehow he’d managed to dodge Garfield’s nosy questions about what he was making, mostly by paying full price for the excess supplies he’d picked up instead of trying to make a deal.
As he’d made his way across the quad to Fantasy Costco he’d called up that nerdy detective kid - told him he’d pay him to find out if anyone had any food allergies - as a chef, that was something he took very seriously, especially after...well, after Sizzle It Up had gone down the drain. He’d forgotten how late it was and he’d probably woken the boy up when he called, but he said he’d pay him triple if he could get him the info before he was done shopping and didn’t ask any questions. Couldn’t have word getting out about what he was up to.
(In fact, it was probably his unusual request that tipped Angus off that there was a get together happening that night, so while he honored his deal with Taako and didn’t ask any questions, he did take advantage of his new information and showed up at the party uninvited anyway.)
The kid had called back shortly before Taako had hit up the checkout. Supposedly Avi was doing Atkins or something, but fuck that. This was Candlenights, and diets don’t count on Candlenights. Breaking a diet won’t kill someone, not like food allergies (or poison), and if Avi made a stink about it he’d tell him he’d used Fantasy Splenda or something. Not that he would, of course. An artificial sweetener would probably throw off the chemistry of the batter, and macarons were already hard enough to make without worrying about something like that.
Their personal kitchen in the dorm here on the moonbase was pretty big for a dorm kitchen and incredibly designed. All the equipment was top of the line, there was tons of counter space and cupboards, and it was already stocked with the best cooking equipment. It wasn’t too far off from Taako’s dream kitchen, really. Taako wondered if the Director knew about Sizzle it Up. She probably did, surely she’d done some sort of background check on them when they were hired. Taako wished now, not for the first time, that he’d had the presence of mind to start going by a different name after the show had come to an end, but he hadn’t really been thinking straight those days. It made him uncomfortable that the Director might know about that whole fiasco. She never brought it up, though, and he hoped that after tonight she’d continue to keep her mouth shut. He wasn’t in the mood to spill those beans to his coworkers, for sure not at a Candlenights party, no thank you.
He’d cast a Silence spell around the kitchen when he got back from the Fantasy Costco. His intent was to not wake Magnus and Merle with sounds from the dishes, but it turned out to be handy to keep in the sounds of his shouting and swearing, too. There had been a lot of that so far.
The first batch of cookies had been a disaster. They’d been flat and cracked and he probably hadn’t let them dry long enough before putting them in the oven and he’d paid the price for his impatience. The second batch looked good, but he’d been impatient again and hadn’t let them cool long enough after baking, so the filling had melted and the little sandwiches had sagged when he tried standing them up and it was a disaster again. Now there were over a hundred cookies in the garbage.
He hated this. There was no reason for it to feel like he was starting from scratch. This was ridiculous. His aunt had made macarons for Candlenights every year, and every year he helped, at least until he’d found himself on his own. But his memories of baking with his aunt were fuzzy around the edges, as if he was missing something. But most of his older memories were like that. It was normal for memories to deteriorate with time, right? It did seem weird sometimes - he didn’t think he was old enough for his memories to be this bad already, but to be fair, he couldn’t remember how old he was. Whatever, it didn’t matter anyway. So he had a bad memory. He was just a simple idiot wizard, after all. Not much to do about it.
Cooking and baking used to be relaxing. Why did it have to be so stressful now? It was awful.
(He knew why it was stressful. Last time he’d served his cooking to anyone, forty people had died. He hadn’t trusted himself to cook for anyone since then.)
Now his hands trembled as he piped the batter for the macarons. He held his breath as he slowly worked, forcing himself to take his time. He’d already thrown out two batches of cookies, he didn’t have time to throw out a third. Not if he was going to be done before his roommates woke up. He had to take it slow. They had to be perfect. Not just perfect-looking, but perfect. He didn’t want to consider what would happen to him if his cookies were wrong, if any of the Bureau folks coming tonight ate them and they weren’t right. He’d probably be thrown in the brig with Pringles. Or maybe he’d be kicked out and end up on the road alone again. He didn’t want to face that. He’d been on the road alone for almost six years before ending up here, and for most of his childhood before that. This was the first time since he’d been a kid that he felt like anyone wanted him around. And he was risking that for a batch of cookies? It was stupid. But he was in too deep now, so they had to be perfect.
He’d wept the day Sazed left. They’d driven for two days straight after running from Glamour Springs. They’d made camp outside a small town when it was clear that the horses pulling the wagon couldn’t go on any further. He’d slept restlessly that night. He probably wouldn’t have slept at all if he hadn’t already been up without rest for several days. Sazed was gone when he finally awoke, and he wept. He’d been a mess. It wasn’t until that moment that he truly let himself feel the weight of what he’d done. He’d gotten cocky and flashy and he’d killed people. He had been so cocky and confident that he hadn’t even bothered to taste his own cooking - it should be him that had died, not them. And now even Sazed - Sazed, who thought he hung the moon - even he couldn’t stand to be around Taako anymore. Even Sazed left, and he was alone again. He’d forgotten how bad it was to be alone, had taken for granted how good it was to have someone around who loved him like Sazed had, and now that he realized what he’d done and what he’d lost it broke him. He didn’t remember a time he’d cried like that. It took a few hours before he could compose himself enough to go into town. He probably could’ve tracked down Sazed if he’d tried, but if Sazed hated him enough to run off, what was the point? Instead he stole a can of paint from the hardware store and painted over the “Sizzle it Up” logo on the wagon. The paint didn’t match. It looked like one of those train cars that had sloppily covered up graffitti. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter anymore.
(It wasn’t the first time he’d killed someone, of course. There was that guy in the jeans - Taako didn’t even remember who he was, or why he’d killed him. But he did remember he’d been happy about it. He’d watched that man fall from the - the what? They’d been up high, maybe it was the balcony of a tall building or something - and he’d felt pleased. Relieved, even. He didn’t know why. Maybe that’s just who he was. Taako wasn’t a good person, after all. He’d figured out that much. Maybe Taako just was a murderer. That must be who he was.)
Taako gripped the handle of the oven door, squatting on the kitchen floor as he anxiously watched his macarons bake. He gnawed on the knuckles of his other hand to keep himself from chewing off his meticulously manicured nails, and he waited.
They looked good when they came out, which, yeah, that was good. He made himself wait a full hour before trying to pipe the elderflower buttercream onto the cookies. They needed to cool completely this time. These ones weren’t getting thrown out, he would make sure of that. He paced around the kitchen impatiently, occasionally stopping to poke one. No, they weren’t hollow either. Finally, as the light of morning was just starting to touch the moonbase, he began piping the filling. His hands cramped but he bit his lip and took his time. Slow, slow. Start from the center and spiral out. Keep the proportions right. Concentrate.
These ones were perfect. Finally. The cookies looked just right and the proportion of the filling was good and they stood up on end without slipping. Not one of them had been touched by magic, either. Not that that was enough for him to trust himself, not entirely. He took a bite of one, just one bite, and waited, sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, gripping his trembling knees. He was sweating. Was he sweating because he was dying or just because of the stress? It was impossible to know this early. He stood up and started pacing the kitchen as he waited. What if he did die? What if Magnus or Merle came into the kitchen later and found him on the floor, dead? What then? Not that he could do much about it, not now. He’d eaten the cookie. If he had done something wrong, he was committed now. And damn him, he was planning to serve these cookies to all his coworkers, assuming he didn’t die from it. He sat back down and sighed. Why was he doing all this? Why take this risk? Was it worth it?
Taako’s ears swiveled in alarm as he realized someone was trying to open the locked door to the kitchen. He quickly scooped his cookies into a box in a panic and shoved them into his labeled cupboard - the other two guys had wanted to have communal food, but Taako wasn’t about that, no way - and he quickly magicked the dishes to clean themselves. That should be okay, surely cleaning magic wouldn’t hurt anybody, but no magic was going to touch his cookies, not a chance. The doorknob continued to rattle as the dishes put themselves away and Taako quickly stashed his apron. He brushed almond flour off of himself as he retrieved a yogurt cup from the fridge. Gotta be chill, act cool, you’re just here for breakfast. There was no late night stress baking happening here, no way homie.
He casually opened the door to find Magnus standing outside. “Sorry homie,” he said nonchalantly, scooping up a spoonful of yogurt, “didn’t mean to lock the door.”
“Hey!” Magnus exclaimed as he walked in. “It smells incredible in here!”
Taako just shrugged as he walked back to the island to sit down. “Weird. I didn’t notice.”
“You doing okay, buddy?” Magnus asked. “You’re not usually up this early.”
Taako glanced up at him. He did look genuinely concerned. “Just anxious,” he admitted. Fuck, why had he said that? Taako didn’t do feelings. Vulnerability wasn’t his thing, and yet here he was. Fuck.
“Worried about the party?” Magnus asked. “Don’t worry about that. It’s gonna be great. We’re gonna have a good time. We’re celebrating Candlenights on the moon!”
Taako shrugged again. “Maybe so.” He focused on eating his yogurt.
“How about I make you breakfast?” Magnus suggested, slapping the elf on the shoulder. It was a friendly slap, but it stung, and Taako made a show of rolling his shoulders.
“Already got my yogurt, homie,” he said dismissively.
“Good, I’ll make you some scrambled eggs to go with it!” Magnus declared. Taako sighed.
“Oh good, we’ve got plenty of eggs!” Magnus exclaimed as he opened the fridge.
(Taako had bought five dozen eggs last night knowing he’d probably end up making several batches of cookies, and he’d been right. Only two dozen eggs were left now.)
Magnus cracked an entire dozen into a bowl and whipped them up. Scrambled eggs were his go-to breakfast. They were easy to make and hard to screw up. He was...well, he was capable enough in the kitchen, though by no means was he a master of it like Taako had once been. Taako watched as Magnus added salt and pepper to his eggs.
“You shouldn’t-“ Taako started speaking without thinking, but quickly cut himself off. Who was he to give anyone directions in the kitchen?
“What’s that?” Magnus asked, turning around. Taako stared intently into his yogurt, fighting to keep his ears in a decidedly neutral position so as not to let on about how shitty he felt.
“It’s just...I mean, you really shouldn’t put that much salt in before you cook the eggs, homie,” he said, stirring the yogurt. “Obviously it’s a bit late now, but next time wait till they're cooked, that way you can taste em and, uh, make sure you didn’t put in too much, yaknow?”
Magnus looked down at his bowl of eggs. “Huh. Yeah, that makes sense.” The big man looked like he was thinking real hard about something - Taako assumed for just a moment that Magnus might be considering starting over with the other carton of eggs - but then he abruptly lifted the spoon to his mouth and tasted the raw eggs. Taako couldn’t control his ears this time as they dropped and he stared in horror and disgust. “Yep, they should still be good!” Magnus declared brightly and poured the eggs into the hot pan. Taako just sighed and turned back to his yogurt.
“Hey, Taako?”
“Mmph.”
“How come you never cook?”
Taako’s ears stood up in alarm as the rest of his body froze. He forced himself to shrug casually. “Why you ask, homie?” His voice was high, and he hoped his nervousness at the question didn’t come through.
Magnus hesitated. “You know...I’m not sure what it is. It just...I’ve got this feeling you’d be good at it. I’m not sure why, now that I think about it.”
“Laziness,” Taako lied. “Why should I bother when I’ve got a big hunk like you cooking for me?”
Magnus just laughed and handed Taako a plate of eggs. His own plate was heaped with easily triple the portion he’d served Taako.
The eggs were fine. Just a touch too salty. Taako had had better. Hell, he’d made better. But that was a long time ago, and these were fine. Not bad, really. He wasn’t sure what it was about the eggs, but that was when he realized he wasn’t dying. He wasn’t coughing up blood or vomiting or collapsing on the kitchen floor. He’d been so panicked trying to hide what he was doing from Magnus that he’d forgotten he’d been waiting for that to happen. Maybe he really could serve the cookies at the party tonight.
“So, ah...you finish carving all those Candlenights gifts you were making?” Taako asked, finally feeling like he could start to relax.
“Those were supposed to be a surprise!” Magnus protested, genuinely distressed that Taako had figured out what he’d been up to.
“Don’t worry, the what is still unknown,” Taako assured him, “but you’ve been tracking sawdust into the apartment for the last two weeks.” He grinned at Magnus’ disappointed look as he took away their now empty plates and placed them in the sink.
“Wait, so you know what I’ve been doing for Candlenights,” Magnus said, turning around. “So that means I get to know what you’ve got planned!”
“What makes you think I’ve planned anything?” Taako asked snarkily, turning on the water and beginning to wash the plates, without magic this time.
“Oh, come on, Taako, it’s Candlenights!”
“If I’ve got anything planned, it’s gonna be a surprise, m’dude,” Taako answered. “You’re getting nothing out of me.”
“Fine,” Magnus said. “Hey, Merle and I are gonna steal Johann’s violin later! You wanna come with?”
“You’re doing what?”
“It’s for a prank!” Magnus explained earnestly. “We’re gonna give it back.”
Taako just chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, m’dude. I want nothing to do with all that. Knock yourself out, but cha’boy’s got shit to do here.”
“Alright.” He stood from his seat and joined Taako by the sink. “Need any help with those dishes?”
“Nah, homie. You cooked, I clean. S’only fair,” Taako assured him.
“Oh. Well, alright. Well, I’m gonna go drag that lazy dwarf out of bed so we can get our prank on.” He slapped Taako on the shoulder again. “See you at the party tonight!” Taako just rolled his eyes and waved with a soapy hand as Magnus left the kitchen.
After he slipped the clean plates back into the cupboard, Taako peeked at his box of cookies. His one half eaten macaron sat on the top and he picked it up. Well, it hadn’t killed him. He must have done okay. He slipped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and realized he hadn’t actually paid attention to the taste before. He’d been too worried about dying. It was...hell, it was good. The texture was spot on, and the flavor of the elderflower came through well. It had been a long, exhausting, messy night, but the results were good. Taako realized with some surprise that this was the first time he’d felt confident about anything he’d cooked in almost six years. Magnus would probably have a laugh when he found out Taako had been baking just minutes before he asked why he never cooked.
Yeah, these macarons were gonna be perfect for Candlenights.