"Yes." She watches him closely as he brings the spoon to his mouth, more invested in his reaction than she'd care to admit. Well, it's always a bit fraught, watching someone else try one of your concoctions for the first time, and this is even worse because she couldn't sample the stuff herself. She tried to keep the proportions right, but that doesn't mean she succeeded.
If he mentioned the milk and honey, it wouldn't surprise her. They're just there to take the edge off the bitterness of the chocolate; he'd probably notice it in a bad way if they were absent, but she doesn't expect him to taste their presence beneath all the spices. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What matters is that he likes it.
It shouldn't feel like a victory. It should feel like an unwelcome complication regarding the resident vampire lite, because you can only muster so much ire for an asshole who also likes your food. But for the moment: victory. Must be the mood manipulation that's going around.
"Okay," she says, turning off the heat and grabbing a spatula. "Now it just has to set for a little while." She scrapes the saucepan's contents into the little pan she set aside earlier, then hands saucepan and spatula to Spike. Hey, the washing up is still his job… but on the plus side, now he can lick the spatula. The little pan of spicy fudge gets transferred to the fridge. She's going to have to come up with a name for this stuff, isn't she? Too bad Aimel isn't here; she was always best at food puns.
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If he mentioned the milk and honey, it wouldn't surprise her. They're just there to take the edge off the bitterness of the chocolate; he'd probably notice it in a bad way if they were absent, but she doesn't expect him to taste their presence beneath all the spices. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What matters is that he likes it.
It shouldn't feel like a victory. It should feel like an unwelcome complication regarding the resident vampire lite, because you can only muster so much ire for an asshole who also likes your food. But for the moment: victory. Must be the mood manipulation that's going around.
"Okay," she says, turning off the heat and grabbing a spatula. "Now it just has to set for a little while." She scrapes the saucepan's contents into the little pan she set aside earlier, then hands saucepan and spatula to Spike. Hey, the washing up is still his job… but on the plus side, now he can lick the spatula. The little pan of spicy fudge gets transferred to the fridge. She's going to have to come up with a name for this stuff, isn't she? Too bad Aimel isn't here; she was always best at food puns.