"Cake…mmmm?"

Spoilers: Everything if fair game

Kim owns it all, but I can't wait a year, and since I don't own a time machine, this is how I cope…

Rated T just to be safe, really, I'm always assuming I'm writing for an older group anyway, and I use the language that feels natural and so can never be really certain how much cussing will be involved.

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"I'm not telling you!" I repeated for what to be the sixth or seventh time. Still he was pushing this, and while it MIGHT have been funny the first of even second time, now he was just trying to piss me off. I glowered at him then glanced back down at the book I was supposed to be studying. He looked good standing there in front of the fireplace, his coat draped haphazardly over one of the chairs, hands in his pockets, mocking smile and glittering red eyes directed at me. God help me, I thought Al looked good and if his growing grin was any hint, he'd already caught me checking him out.

At least Pierce wasn't here. Since the coven wasn't on my ass anymore, and Pierce had been recalled to the ever after, Al had sensed I wasn't pissed at him anymore, and he started keeping us apart again during my weekly sessions. AT least, I hoped it was just Al noticing we weren't bickering like children anymore. If Pierce told him what we did…oh my god I would kill that witch! But then maybe I wouldn't have to, I thought as I snuck another glance at Al. If Al learned I'd slept with Pierce…I think the demon would tear him to pieces.

"Cheesecake? With strawberries and whipped cream?" Al asked and rocked back on his heels, chuckling low and seductive at my frown.

I shut my eyes for a moment and prayed for patience. It might have been worth just telling him. I was hungry enough for a slice of cake, but I wasn't sure how far he'd try to take the joke. And if he seriously thought I'd take off my pants for cake, I was going to neuter him with his ceremonial knife.

"Really itchy witch, it can't be something boring like straight chocolate or vanilla? You're many things but straight, that I just won't believe…"

I blushed and wanted to throw the dumb book at his dumb face.

"Banana cream?"

"That's a pie, not a cake," I shot back, and Al frowned.

"It's close enough. Devil's food?" he asked in a tone that made me look up again. His eyes held mine for far too long, and I clutched at the book before me, wanting to bring it up to my face to hide.

"Gives me gas," I growled but his smile didn't waiver. This was just crazy, I couldn't remember ever seeing him in such a…playful mood. It was almost funny, but it also made me nervous.

"Black Forest," he said decisively, and though I kept my eyes down, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. God, he was getting close. I wasn't sure if I should confess it to just put an end to this, or if his finding out would just up the ante.

"It better not be fruit cake," Al said with mock anger.

I spared a quick glance at his lacy velvet frock coat. You're the only fruit here, I wanted to say, but just kept rereading the same sentence. The crackling of the fire filled the room, and I tried to remember how the hell this had started. O yes, Damn Pierce and his damned pancakes!

"Ruske Kape?"

"Now you're just making things up," I accused. He didn't bat an eyelash.

"Tiramisu?"

I felt my stomach growl and slammed the book shut. "Stop trying to make me hungry! Aren't you supposed to be teaching me? What sort of bastardized lesson is this? Demon Pastries 101?" I shouted. I wasn't sure if I was still mad or just confused now, but the anger made me feel better.

Al sighed dramatically and came to sit at the chair closest to the couch, stretching out his legs enough so his knees almost brushed mine. I thought about shifting to the other seat, but then he'd just know how uncomfortable he made me. I sighed, glancing down at the heavy book in my lap. It was going to take forever to find my page.

"I'm asking you a simple question about a simple preference. You're the one turning it into an inquisition," Al said with a dramatic huff.

"It's none of your business," I huffed back at him.

Al snorted. "It damn well is my business."

The book was forgotten now, and I glared back at him.

"I bring you into my home every week, let you snuggle up with a good book in my library," Al intoned carefully, and I was worried for a moment he really was upset. "I let you into my life, allow you liberties I'd kill others for assuming, and you keep me at a distance," he fumed, real bits of anger and frustration making it hard for me to meet his eyes. And damn, when he put it that way, I almost did sound unreasonable. But then, I was more comfortable with distance. I had no illusions about just how much distance Al would do away with if I let him.

"Red velvet?" he asked tentatively, but I wasn't going to let him buildup steam again.

"What's your favorite type of cake, Al?" I asked with mock sweetness. Two could play at this game.

Al's eyes widened slightly at my question, but he didn't hesitate. "German Chocolate, with pecans, not walnuts."

Son of a bitch bastard! I sputtered, utterly at a loss for words. I knew my face was red enough to compliment my hair. And since I hadn't been expecting it, there was utterly no way to keep a poker face; Al would read the truth from my face as easily as I had been reading his oversized charm books. I thought for a moment Ivy had let it slip, or Nick had sold the information, but no, Ivy would never, and Nick hadn't known. Son of a bitch bastard!

A genuine grin spread across Al's face as his red, goat-slitted eyes appraised my speechlessness. "Well," he said with obvious delight. "Let's just hop over into the kitchen, dove. I think we both could do with something sweet."

I had to get out a cookbook to think up different cakes since I just didn't want to use the ones I love. And I hope you all are proud of yourselves, cause now I'm hungry.

Also, I'm burning out on shorts, someone else better grab the Al/Rachel torch and run with it.

PS: Will trade fan fiction, writing tutoring /homework help, and original fantasy literature for time machine. Interested parties, message me.