After a productive morning, the four of them — and Tony — finally headed back inside to make lunch.
"Okay, which one of you usually cooks for your girlfriend?" Aaron, ever the practical one, asked as he raised his own hand.
Other than Ethan, the others all raised their hands, even Tony. Everyone stared at him. Tony chittered something.
Magnus translated. "He said he doesn't cook, but he did find food for potential mates…" Tony made an indignant sound. Magnus rubbed a hand down his face and added. "…Many, many times."
Ethan looked at the others. "Did I just get outboyfriended by a raccoon?"
"Maybe?" Magnus shrugged. "I don't know."
"Yes," Aaron said mercilessly, then turned to the others. "Miguel, you're in charge — based on the way you grilled the other day, you're probably the best cook out of all of us. Magnus, you help him with the cooking. Ethan and I'll prep the ingredients."
Tony chittered. Magnus immediately said. "He said he'll supervise."
"Works for us." Aaron chuckled as he pulled Ethan by the collar to the fridge. Miguel followed a few steps behind them.
"What do we have?" Miguel asked, already moving past Aaron to look at the fridge himself.
As it turned out, quite a lot. The shopping trip from two days ago plus the extra food the girls bought yesterday had left the fridge well-stocked. Miguel studied the contents of the refrigerator for a moment with the focused expression of someone running calculations.
"Pasta now, and maybe chicken for dinner," he finally announced.
"Ah, you're already thinking ahead about tonight when the girls come back." Aaron nodded approvingly. "Bribe them with a good meal first, then divide and conquer."
Miguel shrugged.
"Why pasta now, though?" Ethan asked.
"We have everything for a proper pasta. It's fast, it's filling, and it's hard to mess up if everyone does their part."
"I can mess up pasta," Ethan volunteered.
"Which is why you're on ingredient prep with Aaron," Miguel said, already moving to find a large pot. "You two wash and chop. Magnus, you're with me."
Ethan looked at Aaron. "Did he just bench us?"
"He benched you," Aaron said. "I'm a resource he's deploying strategically." He opened the fridge and began pulling things out with the systematic efficiency of someone who had clearly done this before. Garlic, basil, tomatoes, and onions were lined up on the counter in order of when they'd be needed.
Ethan watched this. "Why are you organizing them like that?"
"Because this is the order we'll use them."
"How do you know the order?"
"Because I watched Miguel look at what we have and I extrapolated."
Ethan stared at him. "You extrapolated the pasta recipe."
"Yes."
"From a fridge glance."
"It wasn't that complicated."
Tony, who had stationed himself on top of the refrigerator, looked down at the organized line of ingredients.
"Efficient," he declared. "The yellow-furred one reminds me of a raccoon I once knew. Very good at finding what was needed. Once carried half a rotisserie chicken six blocks without dropping it. A great raccoon."
Magnus translated for everyone.
Aaron looked up. "Is that a compliment?"
Magnus checked with Tony. Tony chittered back.
"Apparently, the highest one he gives," Magnus said. "The raccoon in question was an excellent provider."
"Thank you." Aaron nodded at Tony, then went back to his tomatoes.
Tony chittered again, approvingly.
Miguel had the olive oil in the pan already, heating slowly. He glanced at Magnus. "Can you mince that garlic?"
"Yeah." Magnus picked up the knife with easy familiarity. His mother had insisted on it. You will not leave this house unable to feed yourself, she had said, which at the time had seemed like a lot of pressure and, in retrospect, was entirely reasonable.
He minced efficiently. Miguel watched for a second and nodded, apparently satisfied.
"You're actually good at this," Miguel said.
"My mom," Magnus explained. "She had opinions about life skills."
"Smart woman."
"I also have strong opinions about food preparation," Tony announced from the refrigerator. "My mother taught me never to eat anything that smelled wrong. She was correct. Smell has never betrayed me. Hunger has, though."
"You eat from the trash," Magnus said without even looking up at him.
"Exactly. Trash is excellent source of food. Sometimes trash and food are synonymous. Also, I have opinions about what foods are acceptable. I will share them now."
"We really don't—" Magnus started but Tony had already started sharing his list anyway.
Magnus sighed and looked up tiredly… to see the other guys were looking at him. He cleared his throat. "You don't wanna know what he's talking about. He's listing which foods he considers acceptable and unacceptable." He paused. "The list is… very extensive, apparently."
"Is he going to stop?" Miguel asked.
"Probably not."
The guys all shrugged and went back to their work.
Tony concluded several minutes later, looking smugly satisfied like he had made an important contribution, then he went back to surveying the kitchen.
At the chopping station, Ethan and Aaron were apparently arguing again.
Aaron's knife work was precise. Even cuts, consistent size, the kind of chopping that came from someone who had spent time in a lab environment where measurement mattered. The tomatoes came out in uniform pieces. Ethan watched him for a moment. Then picked up his own knife and attempted to match the technique. His cuts were less uniform but faster.
"You're going too quick," Aaron said.
"You're going too slow."
"I'm going at the correct pace for accurate cuts."
"We're making pasta, not performing surgery or assembling a machine."
"Precision matters in both contexts."
"Does it, though?" Ethan held up a slightly irregular tomato piece. "Does this tomato's exact dimensions actually matter to the sauce?"
Aaron paused. "…In a professional context, yes. In this context, probably not."
"Don't get me wrong, I'll take my measurements seriously in a professional setting. But we're just making something for lunch."
"Fine. You're not wrong," Aaron said, which was apparently as close as he was going to get. "But I'm also not wrong."
Tony made a sound from the refrigerator. Then he dropped down from it without warning, landed on the counter, walked directly through Aaron's organized ingredient line, sniffed one of the onions with deep suspicion, and chittered once before jumping back up.
Magnus felt eyes on him again and rubbed his temples.
"He says you two argue like his brothers did over territory," Magnus called from the stove, where he was now adding the garlic to the pan under Miguel's direction. "That was what he said before jumping down."
Ethan and Aaron both paused.
"We're not arguing over territory," Ethan said.
"We're not brothers," Aaron added.
Tony chittered.
"He says," Magnus added, "that's what his brothers said too."
"What about what he said after jumping down?" Aaron asked.
Magnus hesitated. "He said he didn't trust the onions."
"It's an onion," Aaron said.
"I know," Magnus said. "He knows too. He still doesn't trust it." He shrugged. "Just chalk it up to raccoon nonsense. That's what I do."
"It smells like it has opinions," Tony repeated, to no one in particular, and went back to watching the room.
Magnus didn't translate that.
***
Lunch came together in about forty minutes, which was surprisingly fast, all things considered. Miguel plated it for everyone simply, without making it a performance. The pasta was good: properly seasoned, the sauce catching in the right places, fresh basil torn over the top.
They ate at the kitchen table. Tony had his own plate on the counter — this had not been discussed, but it had happened somehow anyway.
"This is really good," Ethan said, with genuine surprise in his voice.
"You sound shocked." Miguel tilted his head.
"I mean — I knew you could cook, but this is actually really good."
"Thank you," Miguel said. "Magnus helped."
"I minced garlic and stirred things," Magnus shrugged.
"You also suggested the red pepper flakes." Miguel pointed out. "That was the right call."
Tony looked up from his plate. "It lacks fish," he said. "Next time you should pick somewhere close to a river. I could teach you all how to catch fish. Better than whatever comes from stores. I know where the river has been. I do not know where the store has been."
Magnus blinked but translated for everyone anyway.
"Hard pass," said everyone simultaneously.
Tony looked around the table indignantly, then went back to his plate.
"Humans are foolish!" he muttered. "The river fish are excellent. I once ate seventeen of them in one sitting. Could have been eighteen, but the eighteenth one escaped. He was a respectable opponent." Tony shook his head sadly. "Rare for a trout. They are very dishonest." He sighed. "It was a good day. One of my best days, actually. I still think about it sometimes."
Magnus considered whether he should translate that before going back to his pasta without saying anything.
Ethan shook his head slowly and amusedly after a moment. "The raccoon has food sourcing opinions."
"He has opinions about everything," Magnus said.
"Fair," Ethan said, and took another bite.
They ate in the comfortable quiet of a productive morning winding down for a while. Then Tony finished his plate, looked at Magnus's, and said: "Are you going to finish that?"
"Yes," Magnus said.
Tony accepted this without complaint and began grooming himself.