A/N: This is the deleted scene for All I Have Needed, when Muta comes to work for Baron.
Birthday Bash 2019 Prompt 7
17. Great British Bake Off
Muta was staring at his wedding ring again. He couldn't help it; other than a single photo he had been smart enough to slip in with his clothes when he forced himself to leave, it was the only reminder of his dearly beloved wife. He vaguely wondered what she was doing right now but smiled wryly before the speculation got too far.
With the time difference between here and Japan, she was probably in bed under one of her own show-stopping quilts. She was so beautiful when she slept, and the mere thought of her like that made him kick himself again for being stupid enough to say goodbye.
It had been so hard to write in the application for this job that he wouldn't be bringing any family with him if he was lucky enough to come live in this beautiful manor. Against his will, he could see a small child with his hair running through the large gardens he had glimpsed while driving up to this secluded estate, with Naoko in hot pursuit and a happy laugh dancing out of her lips-
A door suddenly opened, making him and the other two occupants of the parlor start at the sound.
"Good morning, everyone!" a tall dark-haired man about Muta's age chirruped like a bird, closing the door behind him so that he could stroll up to the three sitting in a row.
Muta took a side glance to again scope out the competition. The man on his right was of a medium height and serious manner, sitting with his arms folded and a small smile on his lips. The tiny middle-aged woman just beyond him had spent the waiting time twisting a Kleenex between her hands out of sheer nerves.
The cocky young man that had come in stood in front of them with a mischievous smile. "Allow me to introduce myself; I am Toto von Gikkingen, the baron's cousin and right hand. I have to say that this was a tough decision to make, but please be flattered that you three were the ones summoned to the manor. It was near impossible to whittle the choices down this much."
"So what's round two?" Muta asked bluntly. He couldn't quite place why this noble was rubbing his senses the wrong way, but he really wanted this job and didn't want to fight through a lot of dramatics to claim it.
Toto blinked, but otherwise didn't react. "A cooking contest. The rules are simple enough; you are free to use anything in the kitchen that you want, the cooks we already have made enough cold food to last the residents of the manor the rest of the day to give the three of you free reign. My cousin will be the final judge of who gets the job." Then he grinned wickedly while rapping his fingernails against the side of a very old bookcase. "But since he and I agreed that getting served the same thing three times would be boring even if the techniques differ, I am instructed to give the three of you a description."
The slimmer man next to Muta gave a polite cough. "Are we meant to guess what the dish is from the description?"
Toto's grin almost turned feral. "You are free to interpret the description any way you please. You have all been advised of my cousin's allergies, and I asked for some of the cooks to stay and make sure you could find everything you could want. I went out of my way to ensure that the food pantry and refrigerators have plenty for an imaginative mind to work with."
Muta grinned ferally as he slowly stood up. "Show us the kitchen."
"Um, can we know the description now?" the little woman asked timidly. "I'm not so good with surprises."
Toto gave her a compassionate smile and a theatric bow before announcing the challenge. "It's 'Purple Nirvana'."
ooOoo
It was good to be working in a real kitchen again. After the falling out with his birth family after one too many insults to Naoko, Muta had been forced to take little jobs in diners and such after placing a bigger bet than he should have at the chance of working at an exclusive London restaurant.
His hands were swift, and his kitchen knife almost danced on the cutting board. Instead of rose petals at such an impressive display, bits of rhubarb collected into a pile as they were rhythmically swept to one side of the board so that he could keep chopping.
"I don't think rhubarb and blackberries go together," Paul informed him a little hesitantly, eyeing the much bigger man like he was expecting a tantrum.
Muta responded with a roll of the eyes before dumping the rhubarb into his blackberry mixture. "Don't criticize my ideas until you've tasted them." 'Naoko used to love my rhubarb blackberry jam.'
He felt another sting of regret, mostly at how he left his wife and a little bit over his favorite cookbooks he hadn't thought to take with him. He remembered most of the notes he had scribbled into the pages to take the taste of almost any dish he tried to the next level, but it just wasn't the same as knowing you had the option to look something up if you were remembering incorrectly.
Did Naoko throw them away? She had been one for 'bare bones' cooking, just the essentials needed to sustain her body so that she could get back to quilting as quickly as possible. They had both loved to joke that his passion for cooking was one of the reasons she had fallen for him so easily. Did she think of him half as often as he thought about her?
The crust was finally done to a perfectly golden crispness. Muta wasted no time in retrieving it, filling it with his specially enhanced jam, and flicking tiny bits of the extra crust over the top of the pie to imitate stars before slipping it back into the oven.
His male competitor gave the pie one look as he slipped his eggplant creation into the oven next to Muta's. "You need more upper crust," he told the larger man with a critical eye.
"You need to mind your own business," Muta snapped, moving his dirty dishes to the sink to start the second part of cooking.
Paul sighed happily, taking out a dish towel to start drying off each wet item as it was placed on the drying rack. "Nice to know we won't have to worry about your mess later."
Muta gave a shrug as he scrubbed the remnants of purple filling out of the biggest bowl. "I'm lazy. If I do it now, I won't have to do it later."
"What I wouldn't give for some ube," the last competitor muttered as she used a pasta roller for a dough made from purple beets.
ooOoo
… It was official. The von Gikkingen family had a weakness for dramatics.
Each of the contestants was standing behind the covered dish they had been laboring over, and they were all standing on one side of a long table covered with an impossibly long white tablecloth. Instead of this elimination round being professional and private, Muta couldn't help but feel like he was on a baking show instead of a job trial.
There were over twenty people lined up behind him like a live audience, all fellow servants from the look of them, but that didn't bother him. It seemed to be scaring the female competitor, but she was managing to hold herself strong against the eyes she could feel on her back.
The more fit chef was on the far end, standing up straight like a soldier. Muta kept himself in his comfortable slouch and with an easy smile on his face.
Naoko had been the perfect test subject for many of his recipes, even before their extremely short courtship. He should have been more worried than this, but something deeper seemed to say that he was supposed to stay in the manor.
After far too long, the far door finally opened and admitted two men.
It was easy to spot the similarities between Toto and his lord of a cousin, but there were definitely enough differences other than coloring to separate the two.
Unlike his energetic cousin, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen looked like he was recovering from a long sickness. His body didn't seem wasted or reduced, but he was moving like a man that hadn't known sleep in years, and that he had fallen down the stairs on the way to the dining hall. His pale face screamed that he either wasn't able to leave the manor house or simply had no desire to venture to the outside world.
Muta knew that tiredness, and his heart automatically went out to the man. He knew next to nothing about this possible employer, but it was as plain as day that something had happened to break his heart. The worried expression on Toto's face as he snuck glances at his cousin only confirmed the suspicion.
The baron gave a polite nod to the three chefs and sat himself at the only place on the table with a formal setting for a meal. "I hope you will forgive my lack of energy. Last night wasn't the best rest I've ever received." He inched his surprisingly simple plate towards the trio.
The woman gently set some of her beet ravioli on the white china, and Muta added a generous slice of his pie before letting the woman nudge the plate closer to the last man so that he could add half of a stuffed eggplant.
The young baron looked between the three offerings in front of him carefully, selecting a fork full of pie at random.
As soon as his mouth closed over the bite, Muta knew he had the job.
Those green eyes closed in complete bliss as he savored that morsel for a long happy moment that he very clearly needed. "You're hired," he informed the large man before digging more heartily into the pie.
"Hey!" the eggplant cook protested angrily. "Shouldn't you try all of our foods before deciding?!"
Toto offered the rejected cooks an apologetic smile before leaning enough to whisper into his cousin's ear, but not that quietly. "The man has a point, Humbert. They've been in the kitchen for hours preparing these."
The baron nodded before swallowing and had a bite each of the ravioli and eggplant. He took his time to consider each dish carefully before choosing his words. "Please don't doubt me when I say your offerings were excellent," he apologized to the other chefs. "I will be more than happy to write recommendations for the pair of you for your next interviews. But I requested 'Purple Nirvana', and Mr. Moon is the one that delivered precisely that."
With no remorse, he turned his attention back to the pie.
"But this isn't fair!" the ravioli cook nearly wept, but Muta had come prepared for this moment.
He pulled a thick white handkerchief out of his pocket and extracted two clean spoons before offering them to the losers with a smirk. "One bite, and then tell me he's not being fair."
Scowling angrily, the eggplant chef snatched a spoon first and barely scraped the exposed side of the pie so that he only had a taste. Before the ravioli chef even got her spoon, he slammed his utensil on the tablecloth and began stomping out of the large room and out of the manor.
The little woman's scoop was a bit bigger, but at least she was a little more dignified when she left the dining hall without a word, although there were tears.
A little curiously, Toto helped himself to a neglected spoon next to his cousin's plate and reached over the table.
Muta couldn't help smirking as he slid the platter holding his pie close enough for the man to also take a taste.
His eyebrows shot up almost immediately, and he dragged the platter close enough for the noble to take a seat next to his cousin to demolish the pie himself. "I really should know better than to doubt you by now, Humbert. We're keeping the fatso."
Muta immediately bristled. "Fatso?" he growled ominously.
"Do not scare this cook away, Toto," the baron ordered before looking up at his new employee with a warm smile. "Please pay no mind to my cousin. He thinks he's droll."
Muta sniffed while still glaring at the dark-haired noble. "I'll say right here and now I'm no punching bag. I give even better than I can take, and I don't take prisoners in a fight or the kitchen."
He could hear at least a few servants behind him choke at such words, but the baron's smile only deepened.
"Excellent. I prefer people who aren't afraid to stand up for themselves." The baron finished his pie and gestured for the tin. "Let me get another piece before you devour the whole thing, Toto."
"Make me," his cousin managed around a contented mouthful, making Muta laugh before swiftly reaching across the table and lifting the pie tin with two fingers since the noble had a fierce grip on the platter.
"Hey!" Toto complained as Muta helpfully slid another large slice onto his lord's plate.
Just to irritate the man, the large cook gave him a smug smirk, since it wasn't likely that the baron would let his cousin get back at him for this.
At least living here wasn't going to be boring. He'd have to remember this recipe if any local baking contests come up.