It had been a long time since Angel Dust had cooked. Valentino hadn't wanted him for his culinary skills. The one time Angel suggested cooking for Val, it had only given Val the idea for a literal food porn film. That had been a movie that Angel definitely wasn't proud of.
But now that Angel was trying to open up to the others at the hotel, he wanted them to see that he had other, more wholesome talents. For starters, Angel was just going to make nome basic spaghetti. He'd wanted to use his nona's recipe for traditional Italian spaghetti, but he couldn't remember all of it. It was too long ago, and all of the drugs Angel had taken, both in his life and afterlife, had made his memory even fuzzier. Angel had also considered making his mother's lasagna, but that included pepperoni, which he had avoided eating (along with any other pork products) since Val gave him Fat Nuggets. It didn't help that Valentino would often keep Angel in line by threatening to throw poor Nuggsy on a barbecue if Angel was disobedient.
Niffty had gotten the ingredients for Angel, and she stayed in the kitchen and stared at him as he took the meat, flour, tomatoes and other things out of the bags. Her staring creeped Angel out a little, especially since she wasn't blinking.
"I'll try not to make a mess, if that's what you're worried about," Angel said.
"Can I help?" Niffty asked, smiling with deceptive cuteness and making her one eye extra big. "Alastor lets me help him when he makes his jambalaya."
"Sure, Niff," Angel said. "You can-"
Before Angel could finish that sentence, Niffty had already started to cut a tomato with somewhat excessive enthusiasm. She let out some sinister little giggles.
Angel worked on making the pasta from scratch, and cooking the meat for the sauce.
Niffty stopped cutting for a moment and looked at the sizzling meat in the pan.
"Alastor likes spaghetti sometimes," she said.
"Does he?" Angel asked rhetorically, still working on the pasta.
"He likes venison in his spaghetti sauce," Niffty went on. "Alastor's a bad boy, but he appreciates my cooking, unlike my-"
Angel looked up and saw that Niffty looked a bit funnier than usual. It was like when she was in front of a camera, only she trembled more.
Oh shit, Angel thought. He reached to take the knife from Niffty before-
Charlie and Vaggie returned to the hotel, with Charlie trying not to show her disappointment. Her latest attempt to promote the hotel had gone so badly that she didn't even want to think about it. However, Charlie perked up when she smelled something good coming from the kitchen.
"Hey, Husk," Charlie called to the bartender, who had helped himself to one of the drinks. "What's Niffty cooking?"
Husk put down his drink.
"Actually," he said, "Angel said he'd make dinner tonight."
"Angel?" Charlie and Vaggie both said together in utter surprise.
"Since when can Angel cook?" Vaggie said.
Whatever answer Husk would have given was cut off by a yell from the kitchen.
"WHOA, NIFF, CAREFUL WITH THAT THING!"
Moments later, Niffty came happily scuttling out of the kitchen, with a knife in her tiny hand and some ominous red stains all over her maid apron.
Charlie cried out, loud enough for Angel to hear it.
"I'm okay," he called. "It's just tomato juice."
"And it'll be hard to get the stains out," Niffty said, pouting. "I'm going to start washing it right now."
As Niffty scuttled off, Vaggie put her hand over her remaining eye, knowing that Niffty was probably going to just jump into the washing machine again. Niffty liked to go that because she thought it saved more time than taking a bath and washing her clothes separately.
Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, and Sir Pentious were all in the dining room, waiting for Angel to bring out the spaghetti. Niffty was probably still trying to get clean, and nobody knew where Alastor was. Nor did they want to know where Alastor was.
Angel suddenly found himself reluctant to leave the kitchen, as the smells of basil and other spices made him feel nostalgic for his childhood. He tried to hold back those feelings as he left the kitchen with a plate of spaghetti in each of his arms. Charlie had offered to help, or get Razzle and Dazzle to help, but Angel declined as nicely as he could.
Angel set a plate in front of Charlie.
"Here ya go, Moll-I mean, uh, doll. Buon appetito."
Nobody seemed to have noticed Angel's slip-up, as they had started to eat the delicious spaghetti.
"Deliciousss," Sir Pentious said.
"It's better than most restaurant spaghetti," Husk said.
"Wow, Angel," Charlie said, "I didn't know you could cook!"
Angel shrugged. "Ya never asked. I can cook any kind of pasta."
Charlie felt guilty when Angel said that. He'd been in the hotel for a couple of moths, now, but she hardly knew anything about him. Then she brightened again.
"Why don't we make every Friday Pasta Night?" Charlie suggested.
"Sure," Angel said. "Well, unless Val makes me pull an all-nighter."
"Every other Friday?" Charlie said, which Angel hesitantly agreed with. Every other Friday, work permitting.
Angel tried not to think about work as he ate. His appetite was only just starting to come back in earnest now that he was trying to get off drugs (and Val practically starving him at times didn't help either) and Angel didn't want to lose his love of food again. He also didn't want to think about his sister, who had loved pasta and tended to ignore their father whenever he told her that eating too much would make her fat.
Charlie noticed that Angel didn't seem all there anymore.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.
"Oh, yeah," Angel said. He smiled at Charlie, and it was a sincere smile. "I was just thinking...I shoulda made some garlic bread to go with it. I'll make it next time."