March - Falsettos Oneshots

Cooking Lessons

A/N: A story about the lesbians? It's more likely than you'd think. Have a story from the point of view of Cordelia. Charlotte is there too though. Plus there's mention of food in here. Note: I do not take responsibility for any hunger experienced during the reading of this. Enjoy! ~ Whizzer (Cassie)

Today is the first day of a proper cooking class. I had been content with being a self-taught chef before this, but clearly no one seems to like what I make. Hopefully I can make something actually good to make Charlotte feel better. She's been acting off this past week, but we all have, in a way. After all, we had just lost Marvin, the second one of my best friends to go. I haven't seen much of Trina recently, but everytime she does come over, she drinks way too much. We all have our different ways of coping, I guess. I suppose I'm one of the better ones for choosing to take a cooking lesson instead of just wishing my problems away.

I step inside the cool classroom and find that there are only about five others in there with me. The students stare at me, eyes wide, before registering that I'm not the teacher and resuming their setups. I feel somewhat out of place in my crop top and jeans, but at least I brought a full length apron like the rest of them. Heading to one of the tables at the far end of the room, I set down my bag and look at what I've been given. I'm surrounded by the basic cooking materials: a small stack of bowls, mixing utensils, etc., along with several cabinets, a small stove, and an oven.

The girl at the station next to me smiles and walks over to me with a bounce in her step. I don't even register that she's speaking to me until moments later.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" I say, grinning sheepishly.

"Oh, no worries! I'm Stephanie! Nice to meet you. I've been taking these classes for about a month now, and they're really great. Especially if you have no experience," she replies happily.

"I do have experience, but that doesn't mean I'm good," I say with an only slightly self-deprecating laugh. "I'm Cordelia, by the way."

"Well, Cordelia, I hope you enjoy taking these lessons. Our instructor, Andrew, should be along shortly. Don't worry about not being good. Andrew's slightly strict, but he's super nice, and he doesn't really care how bad you are at first as long as you don't start a fire or something." Stephanie gives me one last smile before retreating back to her workspace. I have to be careful today. I have started a good number of fires before, and I really don't want to cause another one. Luckily, I'm great at putting them out before they become too dangerous or destructive, but that may not go well with this instructor.

Suddenly, I hear the door slam open, causing me to jump. I place one hand on the table and another over my heart in an attempt to steady myself and calm down. It works after a minute, but no one seems to notice anyways. Andrew waltzes into the room wearing a neat white shirt and black pants, along with a somewhat extravagant yet unnecessary chef's hat. He whips around to face the class excitedly, jumping up on a stool to get everyone's attention.

"Hello, class! Welcome to my cooking lessons. I see we're missing a few faces, but that's alright! We have two new students today. Cordelia, Max, welcome!" Andrew jumps off the chair once he finishes, extending his arms in a sort of flourish. I look over and find Max on the other side of the room waving. I do the same. "First of all, I would like each of you to grab a medium mixing bowl, a whisk, and the ingredients I have laid out before you in the cabinet. We will start with a simple recipe and make a basic chocolate cake."

I do as I'm told, and the lesson proceeds just like that. I actually think that I'm doing really well, at least for the most part. I have my batter completely prepared in the pan, and I grab a nearby towel to help me put it in the oven.

"Stop!" Andrew shouts, causing me to panic and drop the towel. "Do not put that in the oven."

"Why not? We need to bake it don't we?" I ask, confused.

"What? No, not the cake, the towel!"

"It's not going to catch fire if that's what you're afraid of," I say, confused.

"Well of course it's going to catch on fire! It's an oven! What do you expect?" he snaps, snatching the towel from me and handing me oven mitts instead. "Use these. That's what they're for."

Now I feel a bit dumb for not realizing that I had oven mitts directly next to me. Well, at least Andrew stopped me before I lit the entire kitchen on fire. To be fair, I know not to put towels in the oven, but I thought that we didn't have anything else to use. I just went with what I was given. At least it would've gotten the job done. Andrew shakes his head and goes to check on someone else, who appears to be trying to put the whisk in the oven. Okay, at least I'm not that dumb.

"I told you one thing. What was it?" Stephanie says, leaning over to me with a sing-songy tone. I sigh.

"You said to not set a fire, I know," I say sadly.

"And what did you do?"

"Almost set a fire. But I didn't!"

"You could've set a fire and burned down this class. That would have been awful, and Andrew would have been pissed."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But we're fine. This is fine. Now let's get back to work."

After that fiasco, Andrew pays special attention to me to make sure that I wouldn't be the cause of his kitchen going up in smoke, but I manage to stay safe throughout the rest of the lesson. He allows us to decorate the cakes as we wish so that we can take them home, but only after cutting off the edges to make them perfectly round. I taste part of the cake I remove, and it's surprisingly good. Maybe I did need a bit of help. Once Andrew checks all of the cakes, he gives us each a box to pack them in, and we clean up.

The class overall was quite a bit stressful, but I was able to successfully bake a cake without burning down the kitchen (yay), though I did have a close call. Now to take the dessert home to my doctor. Once I arrive home, I push the door open, but I can't see Charlotte anywhere.

"Char? Are you home?" I shout to the seemingly empty house. I hear a noise from one of the rooms, so I place my belongings down on the table and go to investigate. I quickly notice that the sound is coming from the office we made for Charlotte to work in. I narrowly dodge a projectile as I open the door, but I gasp loudly enough to get her attention.

"Oh, sorry!" Charlotte shouts, standing up from the chair that she had been launching an array of objects from.

"Are you alright? This room is a mess," I question, worried. She nods and runs a hand through her hair, walking over to me and planting a kiss on my cheek.

"It's just been stressful. I've found nothing. No way to stop more people from dying," she whispers, tears falling down her face. "I know that it's not completely on me, but I feel like I failed them, Delia."

"Hey, you may not have saved Whizzer or Marvin, but eventually, you will save people. You will find that cure. Use their memory to propel you to continue, alright? I believe in you."

"Thank you. Anyways, how was your day?" she asks, sniffling and wiping her face.

"It was nice. I baked a cake. You have to try something. And I think it is good this time. Don't think I won't notice if you don't like it," I say, mock-glaring at her.

"Okay, okay, let's try it. I promise I will be honest if I don't like it, but since you took a class, it should be great!"

And it's delicious.