Word of Chef Sucrose’s guest appearance spreads around campus, and quite possibly the Overworld, if the crowd surrounding the campus is any indication. Grim has to practically fight his way through the throng of people, longing for the surge to simply swat everyone away in favor of shoving his way to their classroom. When at last he pushes himself through the door, his robe is covered in footprints and scratches. He lets out a dejected sigh before glancing up and stilling at the sight of Angela sitting at his table in the back. He makes a futile attempt to freshen him up and clears his throat, then joins her where she sits with her nose-down in her binder.

“H-Hey, Grim”, Angela murmurs. Eyes darkened with fatigue flick frantically in tandem with her hands as Doughgirl paces atop the table. “Late night?”

Silence takes hold of Grim as he ponders the best way to say this before he eventually admits, “No. More like a rough morning, actually”. He takes a seat beside her and can’t help but noting just how exhausted she seems. “Are you all right, Angela?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m great.” She flips to the next page in her binder, her pen slipping free of her fingers and clattering to the floor. When Grim leans over to pick it up between two bony fingers, she lets out a heaving sigh. Her lips pinch together into a sheepish smile as she accepts it before she lifts a hand to run through her brown-blonde hair. “W-Why wouldn’t I be? Do I not look great?”

In favor of actually answering her question, Grim scoops Doughboy off his shoulder. “Well, today is the day Chef Sucrose is supposed to sit in with us.” Angela gives a strained smile, her fingers drumming out an uneven rhythm against the table. “I know you are not the greatest fan of his.”

“I never said I wasn’t a fan”, Angela remarks, genuine confusion brimming within her eyes before the arrival of their classmates briefly draws her attention. She then shakes her head at herself and looks back at Grim. “Listen, it’s, uh, Tart Week, right? You wanna maybe partner up?”

Grim hums lightly to himself, warmth gathering in his cheekbones when he says, “I would enjoy that very much”. Tanner wanders in and affords them a wave before he takes a seat beside The Edge. A disappointed sigh escapes Grim, his shoulders falling ever so slightly.

“Don’t be jealous. We always get Tanner.” There’s an amused hint to Angela’s voice as she cuts a knowing glance Grim’s way, though it all but immediately vanishes. At the simultaneous hushed silence that falls upon the class, Grim frowns and turns around. And sure enough, standing in the doorway is none other than Chef Sucrose.

The man clears his throat, shrugging off his coat as he comes to stand beside Chef Coco. “Good morning, everyone. First things first, I’d like to thank my dear friend Coco here for having me today. I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion.”

“Oh, stop it, you know we’re all thrilled you’re here”, Chef Coco says with a smile before he sits back in a chair. “Everyone, treat Chef Sucrose with the same respect and admiration that you would afford me.”

An amused hum escapes Grim before he lowers his voice and whispers to Angela, “I still cannot help but wonder how he managed this. Do you suppose they went to cooking school together?”

“I doubt it.” Angela ducks her head, shoulders hunched as she practically climbs into her binder. “Sucrose didn’t go to cooking school.”

Grim just hums to himself. If he wasn’t already thoroughly impressed by the man, he most certainly is now. Having already done his research, he knows Chef Sucrose is especially partial to chocolate, so it seems their best course of action is to bake a chocolate tart. Upon hearing this, Angela wavers before brightening considerably. “Can it be a chocolate caramel tart?”

“I don’t see why not”, Grim lets out after a moment. “So long as we can use griffin eggs and moonwater.”

Angela brushes a lock of browning hair behind her ears, her smile teasing when she remarks, “I thought griffin eggs weren’t as flavorful”.

“They are not.” He rolls up the sleeves of his robe, squirting some soap onto his hands before bringing them beneath the running faucet. “But I am not certain of Chef Sucrose’s taste for Underworldian cooking, so I would like to play it somewhat safe today.”

Angela just snorts. “I dunno how that’ll pan out. His tastes can be kinda hard to predict.”

With that, they set to work on their tart. Bit by bit, Angela seems to relax as she adds moonwater to the sugar and salt, her eyes softening as the mix gives way in their pan to caramel. Grim’s working on the pastry base when Chef Sucrose stops by their table.

“And what are we making here?”, Chef Sucrose asks as he pauses before the pan of caramel. “A caramel tart. Huh. Interesting.”

Stood beside Grim, Angela lets out a grunt, sifting the flour as she murmurs, “It’s a chocolate caramel tart, actually”. She looks at Grim. “Can you pass me that?”

“Of course.” Grim holds out the mixing bowl for her as she adds the sifted flour, struggling to keep his skeletal grip on it steady under Chef Sucrose’s curious stare. He clears his throat. “I am a very big fan of yours. Your talents in the culinary world are renowned throughout the realms.”

Surprise crosses the man’s face before it leaves just as quickly. “Well, I’m honored. It’s not everyday that you receive praise from an individual such as yourself.” He flicks his eyes towards Angela, then back at Grim. “So the caramel. Was that your idea?”

“...The chocolate was his”, Angela explains after Grim falls silent for a moment, eyes locked onto the mixing bowl in question. “The caramel was mine.”

When the silence stretches on just a tad longer than is comfortable, Grim clears his throat before saying, “I have worked with her on many occasions. Her mastery of the caramel arts is nothing short of exceptional”.

“...Yes, I suppose, she is.” With that, Chef Sucrose gives them both a nod before moving onto the next table.

Grim lets the silence linger between them for a moment longer. “I heard you apprenticed under him at one point.” Angela blinks, then casts a confused stare his way. “People, um, people talk. They say you worked in his restaurant.”

“I guess I should’ve expected that”, Angela says with a small smile. She’s quiet for a moment then, settling against the table as Grim turns to place their tart in the oven. When he returns, she lets out a full body sigh. “I started working in his restaurant when I was ten. Figured that was as good a time to get into the family business as any.”

Grim removes his oven mitts from his hands before he joins her back at the table, realization dawning upon him when he repeats, “The family business?”

“Yeah.” She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, smearing caramel and flour across her cheek as she does so. “Chef Sucrose. He’s, uh, he’s kind of…my dad.”

For a long moment, Grim can only stare at her, dumbfounded. “Well, that…I suppose that explains a lot actually.” When she simply nods, he lets out a disbelieving breath. “You left his restaurant to go to cooking school?”

“I figured I still had a lot left to learn”, Angela explains, only to look away when he continues to stare at her. “And yeah, I guess I could’ve learned it if I kept apprenticing under him, sure. But…I don’t know. I wanted to branch out on my own. And he means well, but you know he doesn’t get my caramel thing, so I definitely wasn’t gonna get to do that there. Does that make sense?”

Grim opens his mouth to respond, only to wind up closing it. Because that does make sense. In his own way, he supposes that’s why he came to baking school, too. He looks back at their tart and says, “It does”.

They leave school together. There’s a storm gathering overhead, and Banshee’s running late. He cradles Doughboy close to him and lets out a dejected sigh when rain begins to pour.

“Here.” Angela tugs a tiny umbrella free of her backpack. When he stares doubtfully at it, she rolls her eyes. “It’s either that or let your guy there get soggy. Come on, there’s enough room if we make it.”

Doughboy pulls insistently on Grim’s cloak, and he hums to himself. “All right.” Bones warm, he inches close enough to her that they can all reside underneath her umbrella. It’s a tight squeeze, even as close as they are, given the size of the umbrella. But he finds he doesn’t quite mind it. The rain’s picked up ever so slightly when he finds it in him to voice the thoughts running through his head. “I never wanted to be a reaper. I only ever wanted to bake.”

“Really?”, Angela asks, tilting her head to the side as she stares curiously up at him. 

He nods, then explains, “I never thought it was something I could actually pursue. Until I met…until”.

“‘Til you met Tempest?” When he just looks at her, he shrugs. “Her name comes up a lot in your cookbook.”

If he had eyes, tears might’ve gathered in them. As is, he can only hold Doughboy closer to him, taking in one deep breath before he finds it in him to speak again. “She was raised by humans, and she understood my desire to baker better than anyone I had ever known. After she passed, I…I floundered. For a good while. A-Anyway. I suppose all this to say that I know how important it can be. To have someone believe in you.”

“...You’re an all right guy, Grim”, Angela says after a moment, blinking softly as she simply watches him. “You really are.”

A smile tugs at Grim’s lips, helped in no small part due to Doughboy pressing against his stomach to hug him. He lightly pats him back before asking, “Even if I sometimes put souls in my souffles?”

“Even if you sometimes put souls in your souffles.” She smiles, and a comfortable silence stretches over them.

They stand there for a moment, shielded by the rain from her umbrella, no doubt both thinking about what’s brought them on this path and where to go next. The moment is interrupted when Banshee pulls up in the hearse. “Hello, dear brother!” She casts a glare back at the devilspawn clamouring in the backseat before turning back to Grim, her eyes almost immediately zeroing in on Angela. “Say, you must be that caramel angel girl. Let me just say, I have heard a lot about you.”

Grim grimaces, stepping out from under the umbrella to approach the car and mutter, “Banshee, please shut up”.

“It’s okay”, Angela says with a wink that makes his bones quite literally burst into hellfire. She lifts a hand to hide her smile. “I’m always happy to hear I’ve got a fan. That is, if it’s been good things.”

Banshee just grins. “Oh, it’s all been good. But nevermind that. What do you say you come on over and make us some made of caramel?”

“That’s very generous of you, dear sister.” Grim fixes her with a panicked stare. “But I’m quite certain Angela has other plans.”

Angela just smiles before tucking a lock of browning hair behind her ear and says, “Not really. I’d love to come over. If you don’t mind”.

“...I don’t”, Grim cedes after a moment.

Banshee lets out a snicker. “Great! Breakfast on Saturday it is!” When Grim clambers into the passenger seat, she punches him lightly in the arm. “See? I told you this was gonna be good for you.”

“...I suppose so.” He leans back in his seat and allows himself the tiniest of smiles.