Taste Is But a Blessing and a Curse

Markus' description of Carl's mansion matched nothing to the elegance it held. A fascinating story, it was, where he originated from and where he lived, but this place was simply beautiful. Connor couldn't imagine the memories it must bring being here again, but it was where they'd insisted on going. The Jericho crew was gracious enough to suggest a party for the humans that'd helped and supported them after such a long battle for freedom. If it wasn't for them, there wouldn't hope in man-kind in their hearts, but Hank, Rose, Adam, and Carl meant more to them than they realized.

Admiring the large giraffe, the dainty elephant figurines upon glass shelves, and large paintings was all fun and dandy, really it was. Even both the chess set and the piano was simply breath taking. Carl was a sucker for style, a true artist at heart. But Conner wants to help, not sit. Markus, Simon, Josh and North are huddled in the fairly large kitchen, zooming back and forth while Connor's sitting here doing nothing…

Well, not exactly nothing, per say.

They have it in their minds that he's going to taste test everything they create. Ever since going deviant, the ability to test evidence samples in real time has also shifted into being able to taste food, too. He curiously found out when he'd tested Hank's food – thoughtful of his mentor's health- and since then even breathlessly – involuntarily- told North upon their first kiss.

Simply amazing, your taste of honey and vanilla is almost as mesmerizing as looking into your eyes…

It was such a beautiful moment, but fuck, he shouldn't have told her that. Now he's being forced into serving as the lazy guinea pig who has to judge their dishes. He can't eat large amounts per say, but he can tell them if it's relatively desirable (if his taste preferences are aligned with their human companions likings too, that is. It's so funny how humans like different foods).

"CONNOR!"

With a heavy sigh, Connor knows exactly what that means… it's time to break the hopefully good news that they did well. He just prays his facial expressions don't give away any disappointment – because unlike him, they don't know what certain ingredients contribute… they only know recipes. They should have let him cook like he'd suggested…

"Alright," he says, half in fear, half giving in to whatever experiment he's been suckered into. "What do you want me to try?"

Josh perks up with proud smile. "I present to you, cheddar bacon dip and home-made oven toasted chips." He carefully plucks a chip from a still-warm baking sheet, dips it gently into the odd dip, and hands it forward towards Connor to accept. It's not the same color cheddar he's used to seeing Hank consume, not so orange, but not exactly void of color, either.

Connor takes it in his hand, carefully places it in his mouth, and chews just enough to absorb the taste. It's…. surprisingly delicious, actually! Exquisite, even! Josh was a teacher in his past life, right? If culinary school wasn't his focus, then he must have really used his research skills to figure this out. Perhaps this "taste testing" may not be so bad after all.

"Perfect… just absolutely perfect… And the chips are baked just right. Hank will love this." Hopefully the other humans will, too.

Josh smiles and his eyes fill with pride. "Thanks! I'm glad it turned out well."

Before Connor can respond, Markus is already pushing him back out of the kitchen. Their leader insists that there's' already too many cooks in the kitchen – which Connor supposes he understands, he wouldn't want more than two people sitting at his desk at the DPD – so Connor exits immediately without question. If Josh can come up with something that tasty, the others probably have wonderful things waiting, too.

Since then Josh has managed another equally stunning meal: a savory potato salad. Connor's even more revved up when Simon and Markus present theirs, too, but by then, Josh had set the bar too high. Not that their food was terrible, so to say, just missing some essential elements, but thanks to Connor's cooking experiences at Hank's house, he's easily able to pinpoint what's missing – a few dashes of salt here and there, a marinade that they couldn't possibly understand if he tried to describe it… His ability to taste is both a curse and a gift, but right now it has him feeling pretty important.

The last one to shout his name, though, is North. His girl's going to really know how to put something together, he can feel it. This is the one he's looked forward to the most since the first sample and he can't wait to shower her with well-thought-through words of affection. Without hesitation, he hops onto his feet again and bolts to the kitchen, where the last dish for his taste testing adventures awaits.

Connor slaps the doors open a little too eagerly, earning an alerted stare from the four. Realizing the impression he's made, he quickly collects himself in a calm manner again, hands tugging lightly at the bottom of his brown, leather jacket. (He'd decided gray just didn't suit him anymore, he wanted to fit in better, feel more human).

North's face lights up in his presence and her smile softens as he approaches her. "I took my time on this," she states, wearing an expression of pride.

Cake, Connor recognizes it as, a fairly cylindrical and high-risen sweet treat. He's never baked one for Hank, only gone grocery shopping with him enough to know one when he sees one. Connor's not sure what to think of hers, though, it's not the same as the ones in the store. He shouldn't expect it to be the same and that's okay, but hers isn't exactly…. smooth, not like the kind he's familiar with. The icing is slightly angled higher on one side, almost uneven enough with rugged strokes that it could rival one of Carl's abstract paintings. It's like the cake is a battle and the spatula is her gun.

"I baked a miniature cake, too, just for you to try!" North slides forward a paper plate with a smaller version.

He pulls the paper plate closer to him and accepts the fork she so merrily hands him. "Thanks, Hun," Connor answers with a pleasant smile rising on his lips as he cuts into it for a small bite. Judging by the deep brown color of the icing and the fluffy baked good inside, it's bound to be chocolate, and that's a flavor he's familiar with, a flavor he likes. That makes this even better.

Putting it in his mouth is an entirely different story, though.

This isn't chocolate…. It's sour, and tart, and… oh God, is this a chunk of uncooked flour he's sensing now? It's dry, too dry. He almost spits it back out, but finds enough restraint in time just as his eyes meet hers.

"Well?" she inquires with a hopeful gleam.

When Connor keeps her gaze a little too long, her eyes plead for approval. Time stops and he's at a loss for words. If he doesn't say something soon, she's going to suspect something.

But he can't say no to North, he can't tell her it tastes awful – this is what he'd feed to his enemies just out of spite. And to make matters worse, it's already too late, she's baked and iced the entire thing, used all the ingredients supplied. It's going to take buying more supplies and remaking it entirely from the very beginning to fix this. Yet if he utters any of those words aloud, she's going to murder him…

Instead, he chooses for the wiser and hesitantly forces a smile, trying not to tear up from how awful it is to eat this disastrous "chocolate" pastry… if it can be called that.

"It's great, babe!" Connor barely manages with near impossible patience, nearly choking and just waiting for the food to dissolve. "It really compliments the other dishes!"

"A-are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, just… ate too fast. Eating and talking at the same time doesn't work too well."

"Oh… okay. Well, slow down then."

Connor sighs in relief. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take my time and enjoy the rest of this in the living room while you guys finish up." He offers North a small kiss on the cheek as she leans up to accept it, smiling in satisfaction of her... not-so-delicious-dessert.

Just as he's almost out of the door, though, he can hear her boasting more, her competitive nature stronger than ever. "Suck it, gentleman, because this'll be the last thing our friends remember about this meal!"

Amber eyes widen in fear. Fuck… What about the humans? Hank? Rose? Adam? Carl?! She's going to be the death of them, whether by this… this cake, or her reaction when they reveal the truth… then he's going to be next for lying to her! He's even dead if she finds this single serving dish unfinished and in the trash. Connor sits back on the couch, wiping away tears as he forces himself to finish the small piece of brown mystery. It feels like forever just waiting for it to dissolve, and even then, the taste of salt lingers on his tongue, unforgiving of her claimed "masterpiece". He wishes desperately that his deviancy had never given him this ability.

It's not until later that night, when everyone is back in their respective homes that he devises a plan that will save everyone's lives. Connor leaves the house for a little, claims that he has an emergency case to tend to. His line of work is one thing that North holds great respect for. She fears his safety, but he knows she loves it when he comes back from a successful pursuit, adding another story into their book on why he's so brave.

In this case, bravery means begging Kara to bake a cake that looks exactly like North's, but edible. She'd been held up with previous plans when the Jericho crew gathered. Her duties as a mother to Alice has her quite busy, but it's something she loves.

Thankfully, she accepts his desperate request, amused by his recap of sour and dry horror stories… and pulls it off perfectly! It actually tastes like chocolate, really, really good chocolate! Connor can't even tell a single difference in the pattern of the icing. It's so damn good, she has to swat his hand away from pawing at the icing for another taste. Even better, though, they just may all live to see another day thanks to Kara. He prays North never insists on baking for them again.