"Normal"

A/N: I own nothing!

"A Chef?"

Anya danced and spun in the aisles of the grocery store, happily humming the Spy Wars theme song. Her parents followed leisurely behind. Yor carried their shopping basket and looked around absentmindedly while Loid read over the meticulous list he'd written. It was a perfectly normal day for a perfectly normal family.

"We need tomato paste," Loid commented mostly to himself.

Yor happened to spot it on the shelf right in front of her. "Oh! Here!" She threw it in the basket and Loid diligently crossed it off the list.

"You know," Yor began as they continued down the aisle after their daughter. "I could make dinner one night this week."

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Yor had spent enough time with her husband to notice his hesitation before responding. "You don't have to do that. I'm happy to cook for our family!" He followed it with his trademark smile.

"I appreciate that," she mumbled. Loid seemed satisfied with that and returned to his list. Yor fell behind him in step. She'd tried repeatedly to improve her cooking skill but to no avail. Loid didn't trust her to cook for the family, which meant he didn't think she was an adequate wife and mother… at least in her mind. She wracked her brain on other ways to prove herself but came up empty-handed. How else did a wife take care of her husband? She didn't remember much of her own parents and she didn't know many other couples to look to for guidance.

"Oh no!" Anya turned on her heels as a thought suddenly popped in her head. "We need peanuts!"

"We have peanuts at home," Loid answered without looking up.

"Not enough!" She ran off in the direction of the nut aisle.

"Anya!" her father called out. "How many times do I have to tell you not to run off on your own?!" He readied himself to chase after her and paused. "Yor, could you grab me a zucchini?"

"Uh… sure."

He nodded and followed his daughter.

Yor journeyed to the produce department and sighed. "What in the world is a zucchini?"

"Is this what you're looking for?" She turned to find a smiling brown-haired man holding a green tube towards her. Her eyes shifted from the man to the vegetable and back again.

"I think so…" He chuckled while she gingerly took it from him. His laugh was deep and warm. "Thank you. I'm terrible with these things."

"Don't worry about it, it's easy to confuse one green thing for another. Even I do it sometimes and I've been a chef for years."

"A chef?" Yor's entire demeanor perked up. Could all of her prayers have been answered by a vegetable-wielding stranger? "Do you happen to offer lessons? I should warn you though…" Her shoulders slumped back down. "I'm hopeless."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think anyone is hopeless. Cooking is as easy as riding a bicycle once you get the basics." Yor chose not to mention that she couldn't do that either. "Hmm, lessons… I'm sure I could find some time for such an… eager student." He briefly looked her up and down, but Yor failed to notice amidst her excitement at the prospect of learning from a professional. "I'm Griffon, by the way. Griffon Gerard."

"Yor Br… Forger." The two shook hands and Yor beamed.

"This should be enough peanuts for at least 2 weeks."

"But what if it's not?! We need emergency rations!"

Loid wondered what show she'd learned that from as he turned the corner to find his wife engaged in conversation with a stranger. A strange man, at that. She didn't seem to be in danger. In fact, she was smiling, laughing even. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her look like that.

"Papa?" Anya asked, pulling Loid out of his own thoughts. "Is Mama pretty?"

Suddenly his breath caught in his throat. "Wha… How would I know? I mean, she's… symmetrical. And fit. Not that I noticed!"

Anya narrowed her eyes as she watched her mother and the strange man, her telepathy crackling inside her head. "I think that man thinks she's pretty."

"Yeah," Loid's throat had cleared but now it felt like everything fell into his stomach. "I think so too."

"I own Tavolo, it's a restaurant on 2nd Street. If you stop by next Tuesday night I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two."

Griffon handed Yor his business card and she held to her chest with both hands. "That sounds wonderful! I'll be there!"

After the chef walked away Loid and Anya made their presence known. "What's that?" her husband asked as innocently as possible.

"I'm going to take cooking lessons from a professional chef!" Yor held the card up to Loid's face and he examined it closely. After memorizing the name he made a mental note to ask Franky to look into the man's past for red flags.

"That's wonderful, Yor!" He plastered on his fake smile. "I know how much you want to improve your cooking skills. But…" A slight frown marked his alabaster face. "Are you sure about this? After all, you just met this man and don't know much about him."

Yor considered this for a moment before responding, "I didn't know much about you when we got married."

Loid's face flushed red as he realized he had no retort.

The family was quiet for the rest of the shopping trip. Anya ripped open the new bag of peanuts and began snacking, both of her parents too lost in their own thoughts to notice.

'I'll finally learn the skills to prove myself to Loid,' Yor thought. 'Surely he won't reconsider our arrangement if his belly is filled with delicious meals, right?!'

'How could she do this to me?' Loid's thoughts wandered into Anya's perception. 'I need to find a way to stop this. Maybe this chef has an accident? Nothing too serious, just to put him in the hospital long enough for Yor to forget about this silly idea.'

'Mama and Papa are weird,' Anya thought to herself and cracked open another nut.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"…And he's been to Ilania twice! Isn't that amazing?! The way he describes the food there sounds heavenly!" Yor peeled an onion and placed it on the chopping board in front of Loid. It was the day after her lesson with Chef Griffon and she couldn't stop talking about him and all the impressive stories he had to tell while innocently helping her husband prepare dinner. "Have you ever been to Ilania, Loid?"

He continued stirring the sauce with one hand and clenched the other into a fist. "No, I haven't had the pleasure." In his mind he remarked that he'd been there 12 times for his spy work, but he couldn't explain why to his wife without making her suspicious.

"Can I do that for you?" Yor asked, looking at the still untouched onion.

"Are you sure?"

She grabbed a nearby knife and confidently diced it. "See? Chef Griffon has taught me so much in just one lesson!"

"That is impressive. You didn't cut through the board." Loid remembered her skills being almost unsalvageable.

"Chef says I need a more tender hand. Treat the produce with a gentle caress…"

"Is that how he put it?!" Loid's eyes widened in concern.

"Yes, he uses a lot of metaphors in his teachings. He's very poetic." Yor blushed slightly. "Though most of them go over my head."

"Hm…" Loid returned to his sauce. "Are you planning on studying with him again?"

"Of course! I still have a lot to learn!"

The sauce swirled in the pot under his hand and Loid considered the many avenues of choice available to him. He didn't like his wife spending alone time with an unknown man, no matter what the pretense was. And, of course, not because he was jealous! He was Twilight, after all. He simply worried about what kind of signal this would give to the public about their marriage. If the neighbors even suspected Yor was participating in an intimate relationship with this man… well, that could be the end of Operation Strix. That alone was enough reason for Loid to feel the way he did. Yes… the only reason. "You speak so highly of his teaching skills. Maybe I should go with you next week?"

"You?" Yor's eyes widened. "But you're already such a good cook."

"I appreciate how much you like my cooking, but I'm sure there's plenty I could learn from a professional. Unless…" He looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye. "there's a reason you don't want me to go?"

Yor paused and Loid's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she might be hiding something from him. "That's a great idea!" He released the breath he didn't know he was holding. "Do you think Franky would be available to watch Anya?"

Loid smiled. "I'll make sure he is."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yor knocked on the metal door that lead directly to the restaurant's kitchen, while Loid looked around the alley they stood in with a scowl.

"Why can't we go through the front door?"

"Because the restaurant's closed tonight, and Chef Griffon says this is more convenient."

Silence fell over the couple and police alarms could be heard in the background. "Maybe he forgot?" Loid mused after a minute of waiting, secretly hoping this was the case. But then Yor frowned in disappointment and he immediately felt regret.

"Yor!" the chef threw the door open and greeted his student with a big smile. A smile that instantly disappeared when his eyes landed on Loid.

"It's good to see you, Chef!" Yor gave a polite bow. "This is my husband, Loid Forger. I hope it's no trouble if he joins us for tonight's lesson?"

Griffon's hesitation was blatantly written on his face. Loid smirked, thinking to himself that there was no need to worry about this man secretly being a spy with a poker face that bad. After a moment, though, the chef plastered on a smile and invited both of them in.

It was a relatively small kitchen, but tidy and clean. Light glinted off the stainless steel that looked like it had recently been wiped down. A station was set up with a cutting board, knives, and some produce. The chef quickly placed a second cutting board down and motioned for Loid to stand in front of it, next to his wife.

"Forgive my surprise, Mr. Forger, but I wasn't expecting you tonight. Yor told me what a wonderful home cook you are."

"Doctor," Loid corrected, hiding his surprise that Yor had mentioned him at all. "And she was so enamored with your skills I had to come see for myself." The two men grinned at each, not an ounce of genuine joy between them.

Yor seemed not to notice though and picked up a butcher's knife. "Will I get to use this tonight?"

"No!" Both men yelled out in unison and Griffon gently took the blade out of her hand. "We'll still be sticking to chopping produce for now. This thing could rip through bone!"

"Aw, but that sounds fun," Yor mumbled to herself.

"Why don't we get started? Mr. Forger, could you please julienne those carrots?"

"Doctor," Loid spit through gritted teeth and immediately began showing off his impressive knife skills.

"And Yor, how about you chop this pepper?"

"On it!" Yor placed it on her cutting board and as soon as her blade touched the flesh the entire pepper was eviscerated.

"Gentle! Remember what we practiced last week?" Griffon moved to stand behind Yor. He reached his arms around her waist and placed his hands on hers, guiding her through the chopping motions.

Loid's jaw dropped at the sight. Partially at the fact that this man had the audacity to touch his wife right him front of him, but mostly because… she was letting him! Loid couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten within a foot of Yor without her flinching. Was she that focused on learning to cook that she didn't notice? Or maybe she just didn't mind. She clearly respected Chef Griffon, and it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that she had developed romantic feelings for him as well. Suddenly Loid felt a stomachache coming on.

Eventually the 'lesson' ended and Griffon turned to look at Loid's board. "Good work, Mr. Forger."

Loid stabbed his knife into the cutting board and wiped his hands on a towel, exercising all of his well-trained restraint. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to grab Yor and… 'No, Twilight,' he told himself. 'You need to play the role of cool, confident husband… for the mission.'

Yor had finished with one pepper and grabbed another. "You're doing so well, Yor!" He smiled and admired the small dish filled with pepper bits. "But they're still a little uneven. Let me show you some tips." He wanted to test his theory and see how she responded to him invading her personal space while she was focused on a task. He placed his left hand on her hip and reached for her hand with his right. Yor trembled and squealed as he got close, eventually losing control and tossing the knife in the air.

They followed its trajectory in shock and silence and watched as it planted itself firmly in the back of Griffon's hand, which had been resting on the stainless-steel table. He screamed in pain and Yor covered her mouth with her hands while simultaneously spouting a never-ending slew of apologies. Loid went into crisis management mode, removing the blade and tying a towel tightly around the wound while directing the victim and his wife toward the nearest hospital. In the back of his mind, however, the question persisted, 'Why him and not me?'