"I'm still trying to figure out how to keep my cupcakes from turning into blackened lumps in the oven," Gabriel said, throwing his arms up and looking skyward. Thanks a lot, Dad.
"Otherwise, trust me, they'd be on my list. After pie. And pudding. And this absolutely divine cherry flambe thing a little restaurant I know used to make."
At that suggestion/excuse/opening the archangel grinned and leapt up, and then paled a little and leaned on the counter, lifting a cautionary finger. "Only if we go slow. Just lemme warn my fellow slave."
If anyone else asked Gabriel would just spin a tale of guiding this elderly new Sleeper back through the Cave, wasn't he such a nice citizen, yadda yadda yadda. No one would believe it, but plausible deniability or whatever meant he could escape the absolute tedium of watching a store hardly anyone came into.
Leaving only took a minute of gotta-go-hold-down-the-fort and then escaping the kitchen before Dario had a chance to actually argue. Well, aside from one brief detour: to cut off a big chunk of the wedding cake, now only just under four feet tall because Gabriel had eaten the top (it was all he'd been able to manage). Just looking at the thing made him feel sick, so he looked a bit green when he came out with one of those plastic carry-cases for baked goods in hand and thrust it at the little old man.
"Usually I'd pride myself on spiking my free gifts with spice, but apparently I can't eat it all myself and I'd just hate to see it all go to waste." At least this way he could tell whether or not he hadn't just poisoned himself by accident.
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"Otherwise, trust me, they'd be on my list. After pie. And pudding. And this absolutely divine cherry flambe thing a little restaurant I know used to make."
At that suggestion/excuse/opening the archangel grinned and leapt up, and then paled a little and leaned on the counter, lifting a cautionary finger. "Only if we go slow. Just lemme warn my fellow slave."
If anyone else asked Gabriel would just spin a tale of guiding this elderly new Sleeper back through the Cave, wasn't he such a nice citizen, yadda yadda yadda. No one would believe it, but plausible deniability or whatever meant he could escape the absolute tedium of watching a store hardly anyone came into.
Leaving only took a minute of gotta-go-hold-down-the-fort and then escaping the kitchen before Dario had a chance to actually argue. Well, aside from one brief detour: to cut off a big chunk of the wedding cake, now only just under four feet tall because Gabriel had eaten the top (it was all he'd been able to manage). Just looking at the thing made him feel sick, so he looked a bit green when he came out with one of those plastic carry-cases for baked goods in hand and thrust it at the little old man.
"Usually I'd pride myself on spiking my free gifts with spice, but apparently I can't eat it all myself and I'd just hate to see it all go to waste." At least this way he could tell whether or not he hadn't just poisoned himself by accident.