A/N: This chapter is about a hundred to two-hundred words shorter than usual but I tried my best!! :') This flu is really making it hard for me to think... eep. The picture above is the roll I was inspired by! Enjoy!

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"Xan..." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and waking to the absence of the familiar warmth that I'd gotten used to over the months. Things sharing a bed does to you. "Where are you?"

I squinted, eyes unable to adjust to the light filtering through the doors to the balcony. They were open. Snailing over to the side of the bed, I noticed that someone had stolen my bedroom slippers. Indignant, I called him out.

"Xan, did you steal my slippers?"

The blob (tall blob) leaning against the railings of the balcony began to move. It popped its head into the room.

"Morning Angel. Breakfast is on the table."

I huffed. "You stole my slippers!"

The tall human blob laughed—albeit attractively and well, just generally the most un-blob-like laughter—crossing the room to close the distance and sit on the edge of the bed. From where I was, my husband's general image became slightly clearer.

"My bad. I'll give them back," he took them off and placed them at the foot of the bed. "Need a bathrobe too?"

From his tone of voice and the way he rested his hands on the knot over his waist, it should have been obvious that Xander was only trying to tease me like he always did, but for some reason, pebble me, half-asleep and dizzy, nodded in a daze. Of course, the tall human blob proceeded to undress.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Returning your bathrobe," was all he said with a smirk in his voice and thank goodness I wasn't wearing my glasses so, well, technically, I couldn't see a thing.

"Th-that's not what I—put it back on! I, um, I don't need it anymore, just," I managed to somehow hide my face in my hands and shoo my husband away at the same time, leaving him laughing at my helpless state. "Go away!"

"You sure about the bathrobe?" Xander prompted, sounding pretty suspicious. Yet, simply because I prioritized having him put his robes back on as soon as possible, I nodded at once. Xander was surprisingly obedient, slipping back into the robe and securing it with a knot.

I was about to officially get up—now wide-awake and all—when I noticed how cold it was without the covers. Then, I realized that I wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Uwawhatwhatwhat," I dived back under the covers, hearing the muffled laughter of my husband's coming from somewhere beyond the sheets. "Where did my clothes go?"

"You took them off after complaining that the air-conditioning wasn't working last night," said Xander, who sounded perfectly amused while I hopped around as a human sushi roll of blankets looking for my clothes.

"B-but it's working fine now!"

I found a shirt lying on the floor and picked it up before slipping it on in a blink.

"That's because it was working all along," he explained, handing me a pair of undies. "You were drunk. From those chocolates over there."

I looked to where Xander was pointing and sure enough, saw a box of fancy-looking chocolates on the bedside table. "Oh."

"You really got to be a little more careful with what you eat," my husband took the box of chocolates and shoved it into the refrigerator. "What if you end up like Snow White?"

"Well, I don't have an evil stepmother who wants me dead," I reasoned, sheepish. "But yes, yes, I'll be careful next time, okay?"

"Yeah and I'll get rid of all the evil stepmothers pining for you," Xander laughed, cuddling me for a second before heading to the shower. "Five minutes. I'll wash up and get ready. Meanwhile, there are bananas on the table over there... unless you want to join me?"

Already, I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Hehe, I prefer the bananas," I teased in return, to which my husband won the comeback battle once again with a better card played.

"Last night, you said you'd have the banana here." Xander pointed at his crotch. I, a strawberry, shriveled up and died; too red to qualify as a strawberry.

*

"So I get to watch Xandie blow up the kitchen?" Giselle asked amidst the elevator music, completely serious as she gazed out of the glass and surveyed the skyline. My husband and I exchanged a look and laughed.

"No you don't." "Yes you do!"

The response called for a poking of abs. "What do you mean she doesn't? Didn't Shin's father send a note yesterday about the morning segment?"

"You mean the one that came with the chocolates?" My husband leaned against the railing, watching as the digits above the rows of buttons counted down. "I read that. But nowhere does it say I was going to blow up a kitchen," he corrected with a smile so confident, one would have thought we'd swapped talents.

Well, I always did wonder how it'd feel like to be good at a sport. Volleyball does seem very painful after all. But still!

"The future says it," Giselle corrected him without turning around, continuing to stare past the glass and at the city beyond. "It says you will blow up kitchens."

Xander had a lot to say about that so being the middle man, I naturally backed away and let them do their work. It didn't last very long—as always—because Giselle was distracted by the something else as soon as the elevator doors slid open at the ground floor.

"A lot of clicking."

Not quite getting what she meant, I asked if she could repeat her sentence once more but Xander had already stepped out of the lift and had his eyes fixed on something to the right.

"What's happening?"

Giselle and I followed suit and was immediately stunned by the number of people blocking the entrance to the lobby, holding cameras up high and snapping away, lights flashing and all. Naturally, I couldn't see a thing. Tip-toeing didn't quite work either and I was left with zero knowledge of what everyone was taking pictures of and whether there was a way to get past the crowd and arrive at the function hall we were supposed to gather at.

Fortunately, my husband was a little taller than the cameramen at the back and seemed to be able to tell what was going on. It would be nice if he'd actually reported it. Tall people should do that all the time—tell short people what's going on when there's a crowd.

"Xan? What's going on?" I prompted once more, tugging at his sleeve. Only then did he look at me.

"Rachel's having a book launch. Why'd she have to do it here?" He cursed under his breath. "Blocking the entire fucking lobby. I'm calling security."

I was about to remind Xander that this was not a hotel he owned or that he had somehow been transported back in time to when he was working under his father, when several security guards did come through with orders and told the cameramen to leave.

"Only people with passes! Those who do not have a pass are not supposed to enter the premises. Please leave now."

We waited for the crowd to thin before passing through the rest of the press or, well, just people in general because there were some onlookers as well, and caught a glimpse of the cover of her book. Oh. It was the one I helped her load into the boot of her car.

Rachel's assistant was seated beside her, and although the time to gather at the function hall for the first segment of the event was minutes away, neither appeared anxious to leave. Microphones were held all over the place—above, in front of, and even below her—while she answered questions by who I assumed were journalists from baking magazines or bloggers.

"...share the love of baking with an added sprinkle of professionalism, so that anyone can set themselves apart from the rest with the help of one book," Miss Rachel finished with a perfect smile. I almost clapped.

"What a load of PR crap," my husband snorted on the other hand, increasing his stride as Giselle and I struggled to catch up.

"Xan, slow down!" I whispered, glancing over my shoulder only to see that I had accidentally met Rachel's gaze. Eep.

At once, I turned away and resumed our path to the function hall, hoping that she had merely been staring into space.

"Mr. Honeycutt!" I heard someone call my name as soon as we neared the double doors. "Here!"

I spotted Mr. Yamazaki waving us over, Shin dressed very formally in a black vest and tie standing stock-still beside him. It was rather strange (and actually amusing) to see our students so properly dressed when they'd come to school in flip flops and ripped jeans. Oh, and graphic tees. But I like graphic tees too, so.

"Right on time," Mr. Yamazaki greeted us with his usual smile, gesturing towards the rows of chairs that were lined up in front of the raised platform. "We were supposed to start in a minute but uh, un... expecting delay, now." His gaze went to the book launch in the distance before returning back to us within a second. "We are very sorry for inconvenience. We prepared seats for everyone. Please feel free to sit. Uh..."

He turned to his son all of a sudden, who seemed as surprised as we were at the sudden act.

"シンちゃん、先生に案内してくれる？"

Shin was pointing at himself, visibly stunned. "え―俺？"

To which he was propelled towards us and in front of Giselle, who was staring at Shin's satin maroon tie.

"U-uh," Shin began, tripping over his words as I always do. I laughed, waving.

"So nice of you to help your father out at his event!" I said in hopes of relaxing his shoulders a little. He and Nguyen seemed to have the same disposition whenever Xander was around. "And that is a very nice tie."

"Thank you sir," Shin bowed awkwardly before shaking his head. "Uh, I meant Chip. I meant—I don't know what to call you now. I will shut up and show you to the seats I'm sorry."

Giselle laughed really loudly out of nowhere, and several heads turned.

"You match your tie," she remarked off-handedly, to which Shin smiled, sheepish, before showing us to our seats.

While Xander remained fairly amused by Shin's behaviour (I could tell after years of experience), I sought this opportunity to ask him about the delay, and if Mr. Yamazaki would be demonstrating the theme of the first segment himself.

"It should be a maximum of ten minutes," he said after glancing at the digital clock that was sort of dangling mid-air, in front of all the work stations. "Oh and, yeah. My father's doing the demonstration but uh, he, uh, kinda said that I should participate to learn a thing or two."

"Ah," I feigned a mini heart attack. "Just when I was starting to have some confidence! You'd outshine everyone in a second, Shin!"

Immediately, my student was red at the ears. "What what what? No no no!" Hehe, even his denial is rhythmic! "Ohmygod I'm a nothing compared to everyone else. Honestly, I've barely used half the ingredients introduced yesterday. The thing about Japanese desserts is that they tend to stick to the same flavours too... I feel like I barely know the Southeast-Asian ingredients like pandan and uh... d-durian." Shin shivered at the last word, as though it was traumatic.

"Me too!" I laughed, comforting him with a pat on the shoulder. "I mean, you're still young and all so that's completely alright, but I'm, w-well, supposedly, I suppose, uh, what am I saying—I mean I'm supposed a baker. Pastry chef. Thing. So, I'm kind of expected to know more but, heh..." I left the sentence hanging, unsure of how to complete. Shin, my spirit boi, nodded in understanding.

It was then that the feedback from the microphones cut through the air with a shrill screech and got everyone else turning towards the front. Chef Randy stood before us with a microphone and an apologetic look on her face.

"Woops. Sorry about that. Okay, so," she began with a quick look around the room. "Welcome to the first segment of our annual bake share! Today, we'll be learning about the traditional roulade. Or what some of you might call swiss rolls."

Beside me, Giselle sat a little straighter. Xander on the other hand, did not appear to register what was going on.

Shin quickly excused himself while Chef Randy launched into a brief introduction and schedule for the segment before handing the time over to Mr. Yamazaki, who was tasked to give the rest of us a demonstration.

While it wouldn't be my first time making a roll cake, I had to admit that the recipe was fairly unfamiliar since our bakery didn't have them on the menu all-year round. Apart from Christmas log cakes, we barely made any rolls. Everyone else on the other hand, seemed to look perfectly relaxed while they watched Mr. Yamazaki combine the ingredients and bring us through the procedure step by step.

"The technique is not very hard," he said after producing a premade roll from a blast chiller near the back of the hall. "Only timing is tricky. But of course, this is fusion baking—so challenge is to use the different ingredients introduced to everyone yesterday. Western technique, combine with taste from all over the world."

The Japanese pastry chef dusted a coat of icing sugar over the roulade before cutting into it. By the end of everything, my tummy was rumbly. Was that a word?

"We will begin the segment in a couple of minutes," Chef Randy was back on the raised platform, joining Mr. Yamazaki and a familiar-looking face... ah! The French pastry chef from before! "Patissiers, to your stations. Guests, this way please."

I double-checked Giselle's belongings to ensure that everything was where it should be (and that her drawing pad was in her bag to keep her entertained) before Xander and I brought her to where the guests were supposed to be seated. Thankfully, it wasn't very far. Our station was within her line of sight.

"We're off to make swiss rolls!" I told her, to which she responded with a request for it to be pink.

"Wednesdays, we wear pink."

I laughed while Xander shook his head, pinching his sister's nose. She fought back with her glare. "We'll be right back, okay?" There was a final call for chefs to take their positions and we had to get going. Giselle didn't seem to mind very much, taking out sketchbook and pencils after giving us a final wave.

"Chefs, you will be given five minutes to brainstorm and another five in the pantry. All ingredients from yesterday are displayed on the table to your right and... that's it! Clock starts now," came the announcement from the front and all at once, everyone flocked to the right for inspiration.

I peered up at my husband, handing him an apron. He pinched my nose and I sneezed.

"Aren't we going to have a look over there?"

I paused for a second to think, looking over at the crowd. Over at her station, Rachel and her assistant seemed to be discussing something else, arms folded and index finger tapping on her upper arm.

The demonstrated version was a traditional chocolate roulade with buttercream filling. Changing the ingredients in both aspects of the roll was hard and to do so within five minutes was... as expected, nothing short of professionals.

"Giselle wanted something pink, right?" I looked over to Xander's sister doodling in the distance, eyes fixed on her sketchbook. "There was red bean paste, from what I remembered yesterday... if we combine it with the batter, it would be pink—oh no wait!"

Xander was leaning against the counter, arms folded in a relaxed manner, probably used to my mini-self-talks. He was watching me like he would every Saturday morning, as though we were back home and this wasn't any different.

"The chocolates last night," my arms flailed in the air like an octopus. "I remember what I ate now! I-it's the one shaped like a flower. The cherry blossom! It's the sake one."

"They were introducing pickled cherry blossoms as an ingredient... yes, let's use that for the cake and for the filling... sake-infused... sake-infused cream cheese!" I turned to Xander with eureka in my eyes and he laughed.

"Japanese alcohol and cream cheese?" He reached over to poke my cheeks. "Just promise me you won't be testing that later. And how do you come up with this stuff?"

"Hehe," I looked away, turning to the clock. "Intuition."

The time to choose our ingredients from the pantry arrived pretty quickly and we were given cute little baskets to put our stuff in. While I'd entrusted the task of choosing the perfect bottle of sake to my husband, I caught him looking at strawberries as soon as I turned away.

"Xan!" I whispered-shouted, poking him in the abs. "Don't get distracted!"

"Can we eat these?" He asked instead, picking up a fresh strawberry from the cooler. It looked red and plump and ready to be nommed. I almost gave in.

"N-no! Of course not," I brought him away from the fruits section and towards the range of alcohol. "Help me taste the sake. I need one that's light and doesn't leave a strong aftertaste."

I left him to grab the rest of the ingredients. By the time we'd returned to our stations with our baskets, some pastry chefs had blenders and electric mixers out on the table, rinsed and dried.

"So, trusty husband," I turned to Xander with a teasing smile, securing my apron with a knot at the back. "Know what you have to do?"

I ran the mixers under the tap and placed them in a mixing bowl that I'd washed up earlier and dried. Milk. Vegetable oil. Flour. Sieve, where's the sieve...

"Bedroom's my territory. Husband in foreign waters. Not very trusty," he laughed, rinsing his hands under the tap.

I poked his arm as punishment, handing him a couple of eggs in a bowl. "We've been through this—separate the yolks from the whites please—home economics in high school, remember?" While Mr. Yamazaki's demonstration included the yolks, I noticed that the cake would crack when it was rolled. Using only egg whites would make the roll much softer and fluffier; easier to work with. Although... would it be too much of a risk if I changed the recipe? Did all roulades include the characteristic of cracks in the cake?

"Mrs. Harry isn't that religious woman over there or the rest of the people in this room, Angel," Xander pointed out, starting on egg duty. I begged to differ.

"Well yes," I bit back a smile. "But they are all mortal like you."