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Roll burst out laughing, unable to help herself.
“A cooking class? Seriously?” she asked. It had to be a joke.
“Yes. Seriously. At the Community Center downtown,” Megaman replied. He looked sincere, and Roll's gleeful smile turned to confused skepticism.
“Why on earth would you take a cooking class? You don't eat. You can't taste. Can you even smell?” she asked, more aggressively than she'd intended.
“I can smell. Kind of. I have chemoreceptors, but they mostly detect compounds that could be hazardous, and I can sometimes differentiate between aromas. My father was a mechanical engineer, not a chemist,” Mega replied.
“Okay, so you still haven't answered why you're taking a cooking class,” Roll responded. She was beginning to suspect she knew, and it was making her uncomfortable for reasons she still struggled to articulate, even after all their time together.
“You get home late after your evening classes, and you're usually hungry. I want to be able to have a meal ready for you,” he said. “I used to prepare food for my father, but that was usually just opening a can and warming it up. I'd like to be able to make something better than that for you.”
Roll’s trauma responses were fighting with her affection for Mega. She still struggled to let anyone take care of her. The resistance was a collective movement, and she was always looking out for others, and she had her life saved by allies on several occasions. But she still reflexively bristled whenever she felt like her independence might be threatened. If Mega had done this a year earlier in their relationship, she almost certainly would have had an angry outburst towards him.
But she and Mega had both been working on their responses to each other. And after a deep breath, and after seeing Mega's hopeful expression, she smiled wide and wrapped her arms around his waist in an affectionate hug. He loved seeing her smile like that. He was sure he had made the right decision.
Besides, cooking meant following a recipe. He was capable of following directions. How hard could it be?
Mega showed up early for the first class. Despite his confidence that he could figure this out, he was still nervous. The woman who had handled his registration for the class had laughed, much as Roll had.
He walked into the classroom to see the instructor setting up and laying out recipe cards, cutting boards, and utensils at each of the cooking stations. He'd met the instructor before. Their code name had been Leaf in the resistance movement. Mega was pretty sure they were involved with preparing food for the dining hall when the building functioned as headquarters for the resistance. Mega had lived in the building for a few months after the battle. While he didn't need to eat, the dining hall was a good place to catch up with friends and meet other resistance fighters.
Leaf changed their hairstyle and hair color frequently, and Mega had looked forward to seeing what they might do next with their look. Last time he saw them, one side of their head was shaved, and the other side was blue and braided. Tonight, it was a short fire engine red mohawk.
Mega had asked them once why they changed their look so much. Leaf had explained that they grew up in a WASP family, and once they left home, they were finally able to live and present the way they wanted, and had found a lot of joy and freedom in leaning into it hard. Mega wasn't sure what insects had to do with it. He had wondered if Leaf had confused wasps, which are mostly solitary, with bees and was making a metaphor about their rigid social structures. Either way, Mega appreciated their bright colors and bright smiles.
The instructor looked up when they heard Mega's footsteps.
“Wow, Megaman, you are actually taking my class. I figured Di was just fucking with me. It's good to see you again.”
“Hi, Leaf. It's good to see you, too,” Megaman replied.
“You can call me Shawn,” they replied. “Don't need the code name anymore. So why are you taking a cooking class? You don't eat, do you?”
“No, I want to try to cook for my partner,” Mega replied.
“You still dating Roll? I heard rumors you two were hooking up right after the battle.”
“Yes, I'm still dating Roll,” Mega replied, unsure what to make of the rest of the comment. He was used to rumors about his abilities, his relationships to Protoman and Light, and his actions in the city. But knowing that people had been speculating about his relationship with Roll seemed strange. He couldn't imagine why anyone who wasn't close to him or Roll would care.
Other students were starting to filter in by this time, and Shawn was greeting them and checking them in. The class was a mix of ages and genders. Mega didn't recognize any of the other attendees.
Shawn moved to the front and started introductions. Everyone was told to share their name, their pronouns, and why they were taking a cooking class.
“Megaman, he/him, and they/them is fine too. I want to be able to prepare food for my girlfriend,” Megaman said when it was his turn.
A murmur spread around the room. It was very quiet, but he could make out someone questioning that he had a girlfriend, and someone else commenting on it being cute that he wanted to cook for someone else. He was shocked that one person sounded disappointed that he was already taken. He felt very self-conscious, which was an all-too-common experience that he still wasn't used to.
Shawn went over basic info, such as location of exits, bathrooms, fire extinguishers, and first aid kit, the estimated end time, and the recipe for the evening, which was a very simple mushroom fettuccine Alfredo. This was a beginner class, so they were using premade pasta, but everything else would be from scratch.
At Shawn's direction, everyone grabbed an apron and a tray of ingredients. Mega looked everything over. There weren't that many different ingredients, and the recipe card Shawn had provided seemed straightforward enough.
“Okay, everyone, we're going to start out with some mise en place. That's French for everything in its place. We're going to prep everything before we start cooking. When you get faster and more comfortable, you can prep as you go if you want. For now, that's just a good way to burn your butter while you're still trying to cut your veggies.”
They walked the class through grating the cheese, and the advantages of grating your own over using pre grated. Then slicing the mushrooms and peeling and pressing garlic. Then measuring the butter and heavy cream.
Mega looked closely at Shawn's sliced mushrooms. They were all slightly different thicknesses. He wondered what thickness was actually correct. So he asked. Shawn gave him a highly amused look. They'd actually heard it all before from other beginner students.
“It's a matter of preference and knife skills,” they explained. “It doesn't have to be exact, and mushrooms are pretty forgiving.”
Mega took his best guess, and in a matter of about thirty seconds had sliced his box of mushrooms into perfectly even pieces. He completed the rest of the prep work just as quickly, and then waited for several minutes for the rest of the class to catch up. So far so good.
“Fill your pot with about four quarts of water and put it on the burner at medium heat. Add a big old pinch of salt,” Shawn instructed. “The adage in the old days was to make it taste like seawater, but I'm guessing none of you have ever left the city.” The students all nodded. No one ever came to the city, and no one ever left. Even Mega had never traveled far.
“So you want it just a little less salty than the brine that's in Wilycorp brand canned corn,” they explained. Fortunately or unfortunately, everyone other than Mega was familiar with that flavor.
Mega added the water to the pot. He started the burner. He accessed his data corpus to find the average salt content of canned corn brine and did a quick calculation.
“Shawn, is there a scale I can borrow?” Mega asked. He might have been okay using his hands to estimate the mass of the salt, but he'd never been calibrated to measure down to the gram.
Shawn was confused. “What do you need a scale for? We're doing volume measurements for most of this recipe, and I weighed the parm for you.”
“To measure the salt.”
“Just go by taste. Or…no wait. Can you taste?” Shawn asked, suddenly realizing how complicated this was going to get.
“No, but I've got another idea,” Mega replied. Shawn flashed a skeptical look, but was distracted by another student before they could follow up.
Mega estimated the amount of salt he would need and poured it into the pot of water. He stirred it with a wooden spoon to dissolve the salt. He stuck his finger into the rapidly heating water to detect the electrical conductivity. At its current temperature and conductivity, the salt was at probably 42 or 43 parts per thousand (ppt). Wilycorp corn brine was standardized at 40 ppt, and he wanted to aim a little lower, maybe about 35. So he added a little water and stirred. He stuck his finger into the now boiling water to check the concentration.
“Dude! What are you doing?!” Shawn yelled from the front, startled. The rest of the class was looking at Mega, some looking amused and others looking horrified. His finger was still in the boiling water.
“I washed my hands before I touched the water,” Mega said to reassure everyone.
Shawn took a deep breath. “Touching boiling water hurts most people. I'm going to ask you not to touch boiling things, just for my peace of mind. Okay?”
Megaman nodded and pulled his finger out of the water. It was at roughly 34.5 ppt, and he knew humans were not always very precise, so it was probably close enough. Hopefully.
“Once your water is at a boil, you can add your pasta. This is dried pasta. It's going to take between about eight and fourteen minutes to cook. But don't go by time. Go by texture. Pull a piece out, with your spoon,” they said, directing the last bit towards Mega. “Take a test bite. It's down to personal taste, but most people want it tender but not mushy. It should resist a little when you bite into it.”
“How much resistance?” Mega asked, hoping for some sort of objective measure.
“Uhhh… I'm not really sure how to answer that,” Shawn replied. “How about I come over and help you test it.”
Megaman smiled and nodded.
“While your pasta is cooking, go ahead and melt your butter in the pan over low or medium low heat,” Shawn said. “Once it's fully melted and just starts to smell nice and nutty, you can add your mushrooms. Keep them moving, stirring every minute or so, and add a nice little pinch of salt.”
“Should I use low or medium low heat?” Mega asked.
“Either one is fine. Medium low is a little faster, but you're also more likely to burn your butter.”
“So I should set it to low?”
“Sure, that's fine,” Shawn replied. They weren’t bothered by Mega's questions, but they also had no idea how to be clearer.
“I can't tell if the butter smells nutty,” Megaman said as he watched the melted butter brown. Then the edges of the little islands of milk solids started to blacken, and then he could detect an acrid, burning smell.
Shawn had been looking around at the other students’ progress, but came over to Mega's cooking station as quickly as they could once they smelled the blackened butter.
“Yep, that's burned. You're going to need to wash that pan and start again with a new chunk of butter. This time, add the mushrooms as soon as the butter is fully melted,” they directed. They were about to walk away, but Mega still had one more question.
“How do I measure a pinch of salt? My fingers are bigger than yours. But your fingers compress, so they might actually hold more. I'm not sure how to tell what size of pinch to add,” he said, confused and wondering why no one else was having the same struggle. He saw many different sizes of hands in the room, so how could they all add the correct amount of salt with such different measures?
“Grab a pinch and show me,” Shawn said. Mega did so. It was a very large pinch.
“Okay, you only need about a third of that. Now just try to follow along. No one's making a masterpiece tonight, okay? Just do the best you can,” Shawn said reassuringly.
Mega continued as well as he could. He tried to resist the urge to ask every question that came to mind. Shawn stopped to check on him more frequently, understanding he needed a little extra help. Megaman felt a little humiliated, realizing this was much harder for him than he expected, while everyone else seemed to be catching on.
When all the parts were finally cooked, he put the dish together with the pasta and mushroom alfredo sauce. Shawn was making their way around the room, sampling each person’s dish and providing helpful feedback. They saved Megaman for last, knowing he might need some additional guidance.
Shawn took a bite of Megaman’s rather gloppy mess of a meal. Mega was relieved when they didn’t immediately spit it out or make a face. They chewed for a moment, processing the flavors, textures, and aromas.
“Not bad for a first try,” Shawn finally said. “I’ve got a lot of feedback, if you’re up for hearing it all.”
“Go ahead. I want to learn.”
“Awesome.” Shawn spent several minutes providing feedback. They recommended cooking with a buddy who could taste and smell every time Mega wanted to try a new recipe, and paying attention to temperature and color cues so that he’d be able to try to reproduce the result the next time. They recommended erring on the side of undersalting, because you can always add more salt but can’t really take it out. They also talked about making sure that food is safe before cooking it. Without a sense of smell, Mega ran the risk of feeding Roll something that’s already spoiled. Mega had already given that some thought and was planning to train Rush to recognize the smell of meat and dairy that’s gone bad.
Megaman thanked Shawn for the feedback, and then headed home, feeling rather humbled.
“How did the class go?” Roll asked when he arrived at her place. Mega just shrugged and then was immediately distracted by his dog.
Rush was bouncing around, sniffing curiously at Mega's clothes and the small container he carried. His owner didn't usually go anywhere in the evening, and rarely came home with so many interesting smells. He barked soft, curious little woofs until Mega lowered the container enough for him to get a good sniff.
“Alright, Rush. Settle down,” Mega said with a smile and a good, long ear scritching session. Rush leaned hard against Mega's leg and thumped a robotic back leg loudly against the floor, enjoying the scratches. “That's a good boy.”
Roll smiled. A man and his dog. She couldn't imagine anything cuter.
“Is that the food you made?” she asked, gesturing at the container. “Do I get to try it?”
Mega was a little reluctant. He was embarrassed that cooking hadn't come as easily as he had expected it to, and he worried that tasting his concoction would just confirm Roll's initial reaction of disbelief that he was taking a cooking class. Not that she would ever actually mock him. He and Roll teased each other, and they didn't shy away from harsh truths, but she had never been cruel to him.
“If you really want to,” Mega answered.
“I really do,” Roll said, giving him a sympathetic look. She saw his doubt, but she was too curious to miss the opportunity.
She'd watched Mega try many new skills since coming to the city, and most of the time, he picked up technical skills easily and flawlessly. He could perfectly recreate any guitar riff from the first time he picked up a guitar. He'd never owned a dog, but he now had a pup who knew more tricks and behaviors then any dog she'd ever met. He could effortlessly do stunts on his motorcycle that had taken her years to learn.
Creative skills, on the other hand, were difficult for him. He could often copy what someone else created, but it was always just an imitation, rarely his own take.
Cooking was both a technical and creative activity. He might be able to reproduce the steps, but without the ability to process the necessary sensory inputs, she wasn't sure if he could reproduce the results. She didn't know what to hope for.
On the one hand, it would be really nice if he could make tasty, healthy meals for her. After years of eating almost nothing but highly processed crap, it was nice to finally have access to fresh vegetables and real food again. She didn't mind cooking for herself, but with classes and lab obligations, she was often too tired to cook after evening classes, which often meant reaching for more processed crap.
On the other hand, it was kind of annoying how easily he picked up skills. And he was so humble about it that she couldn't even give him a hard time. She knew she was being petty and not particularly supportive of the man who she truly, deeply loved, but it was kind of satisfying when he had to struggle with something new like a normal person. Of course, she would never admit this out loud.
She grabbed a fork out of a drawer, speared a few mushrooms, and twirled some fettuccine around the tines. The sauce was thick and lumpy despite still being warm. She took a bite, and Mega watched her face nervously. She chewed once, then twice, then pursed her lips.
“Is it that bad?” Mega asked, a little dejectedly.
Roll swallowed, chewed a couple more times, and swallowed the rest. She thought for a moment, trying to formulate an answer that was honest and helpful, but not unkind.
“It's… okay. It's really, really salty. The pasta is a little mushy. And it's kind of bitter. Like maybe something got burned?” she replied, still trying to process the sensory experience that was Mega's cooking.
“Yeah, that was probably the garlic.”
“Oh, yeah, garlic burns quick. I've done that before,” she said, and Mega instantly felt at least a little better. “If you want to stick with this, I know you'll figure it out. And I'm on board to be your guinea pig until you do.” She set down the fork, and stepped in close to him, sliding her arms around his waist. He wrapped her up in a hug and rested his head on hers.
“I think I want to stick with it. And I appreciate the support. When you say you'll be my guinea pig -”
“Yes, it means I'll taste test the food you make,” Roll replied. She knew him well enough to know where he was going with his question. He'd learned to identify a lot of idioms, but he still wasn't always sure when to take them figuratively and when to take them literally.
Mega, Roll, and Rush settled in for the night. Roll had taken advantage of Mega's absence for the evening to get caught up on coursework and studying. Even though he made a point not to distract her while she worked, she sometimes struggled to focus just knowing that he and his skillful hands and big warm arms were in the apartment. He was just too tempting.
But now that she was all caught up, it was good to have him home.
The following week, Mega showed up early for class with a few extra tools at his disposal. A small food scale, a pH tester, a salinity meter, and a probe thermometer. Shawn greeted him as he entered.
“Hey, Megaman! Glad you got here early. I want to talk to you before we get started tonight,” they said, smiling brightly under their bright red mohawk.
“Sure thing. I brought a few extra kitchen tools tonight. I hope that's okay,” Mega replied as he pulled them out of a small shoulder bag.
“Wow, dude. You beat me to the punch. And then some,” Shawn said. They pointed out a kitchen scale they'd set at the work station that Mega had used the previous week. “I wanted to set you up with a few accommodations. I'm really sorry about last week. I wish I had done more to meet you where you're at.”
“Don't worry about it,” Mega replied, smiling appreciatively at the gesture. “My situation is …unique. And you had to teach everyone in the class, not just me. I tried to come better prepared tonight.”
“I added some extra annotations to the recipe card, too,” Shawn said, pointing to the additional handwritten notes. Mega looked it over eagerly, glad to learn that a pinch of salt was about .3-.5 grams.
The dish for the night, egg fried rice, only turned out marginally better than his mushroom fettuccine Alfredo, but he ended the class feeling more confident than when he first came in.
As the weeks passed, Mega picked up more skills and gained more confidence. He had to miss a couple weeks of the class for an impromptu rescue mission, but Shawn offered to help him get caught up. New recipes and new techniques that weren't written specifically for him were still a challenge, but by the end of the course, Mega had a nice little repertoire of recipes that he could cook up fairly reliably.
“I can't stop thinking about how tasty that salmon was,” Roll said as they lay together in Mega's bed, surrounded by moving boxes full of Roll's things. “You actually made that, right? You swear that wasn't takeout or -”
She was interrupted by her own laughter as Mega tickled the backs of her thighs. It had become a reliable way to enact vengeance when Roll teased him. He knew it wasn't entirely fair, since she couldn't tickle him back, but she hadn't complained yet. Her gleeful giggles sent currents of energy dancing across his circuits. Rush lifted his head to stare at them from the foot of the bed, looking rather unimpressed, before he settled back in to try to sleep.
“Yes, I made it. And the roast sweet potatoes. And the dressing for the salad,” Mega said, only the tiniest hint of smugness coming through. “The night you stayed at your place to finish packing, Carlos came over to help me practice it.”
“I didn't realize you had him over that night. I would've thought you'd have wanted the place to yourself, since it was your last night living alone,” Roll said, settling back in against him, her head resting on his warm chest.
“No, it was good to hang out with him. And it kept me busy so I didn't have as much time to miss you,” Mega said, kissing the top of her head.
“Will you make the salmon for me again sometime?” Roll asked. “Maybe after we get settled in at our new place?”
“Of course,” Mega replied, relieved that Roll could finally talk about their upcoming move without sounding anxious or panicked. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she scooched up to kiss his cheek. Then his lips.
“Can you teach me how to make it?” she asked, smiling sweetly at him.
“I'd love to,” Megaman said and pulled her close to kiss her deeply. When they parted from the kiss, he was surprised to find that her sweet smile had turned into an impish grin.
“Good, because I'm still convinced it was takeout,” she said. Megaman's fingers rapidly descended to enact vengeance, and both their laughter echoed through the apartment.