"What do you mean you forgot?!"
"It means I forgot!"
"How could you forget?! It's one of the first things I taught you!"
"I'm not a seals guy! I do potions! Maybe an exorcism on a good day!"
"What do you mean 'on a good day?! You're supposed to be able to do them any day!"
Gnocchi just laughs it off. "I know, I know! I have an idea." He puts up his hands placatingly, "Why don't you lure them out and I'll fumigate them?"
"We can't fumigate here."
"We can't? Why not?"
"Because there's food here?"
"...Right." Gnocchi seems to remember they are, in fact, in a kitchen. "We can still fumigate them, just maybe outside?" he suggests instead.
He's about to object, but then he remembers all those months it took to grow back his hair. "You know what? Let's do it."
He starts setting up traps around the kitchen, slapping on evil attracting seals on them. Technically, gremlins weren't evil, but they were nasty little pests, so they would be attracted to the seals the same way an actual evil creature would be. It was like leaving out sugar cubes to lure out ants, cockroaches or rats; it was the same principle.
After the traps are set, he and Gnocchi exit the kitchen. The gremlins aren't going to come out if they feel anyone's presence, and he can activate the seals remotely.
"Do you have the pesticide ready?" he asks Gnocchi.
Gnocchi takes out a bottle with a very suspicious looking substance inside it. "Well, it's not strictly a pesticide, but I'm sure it'll do the job just fine." The liquid sloshes around as he swirls the bottle around.
He decides he's not going to ask any questions. Potions was never his strong subject anyways.
When he activates the seals, a swarm of gremlins come gushing out from the machines. They both watch, horrified, from the small window at the top of the door leading to the kitchen, as the little pests scurry across the floor directly to where the traps are.
But the gremlins, like the fucking gremlins they are, don't come along easily. While they do manage to catch most of them on the first try, they spend around fifteen minutes chasing a few strays around the kitchen that were smart enough to realise the traps were there and managed to escape. He manages to scrape by mostly unscathed, only a minor burn when he squashed a gremlin against the oven (the gremlin did not make it, leaving behind only a smudge on the oven's side), but Gnocchi is not as lucky.
"I hate this fucking job so much," Gnocchi sneezes, sending particles of flour flying everywhere. He's covered head to toe in the stuff from when one of the gremlins had gotten him when he had his guard now and it had dumped a whole bag on him. Another had gotten hold of one of the blades from a hand mixer and (tried to) stab it between his ribs. It thankfully didn't do any damage, perhaps only some bruising, but nothing he couldn't survive.
"I told you to be careful. But did you listen to me?" He starts rounding up the cages where the gremlins are contained, turning his back to Gnocchi.
"You told me to be careful until one of them tried to take me out with an egg!"
"Well, maybe if you knew your seals you could have used a protection-"
"Now is not the time to bring up your damn seals!" Gnocchi sneezes again. "No one gives a rat's ass about them!"
"You're just bitter!"
"Am not!"
He's about to respond, but a sudden knocking at the door interrupts them. It's Aki, the employee from before.
"Um. Excuse me," he has the door slightly ajar, his face peeking into the room, "is it okay if I come in now? I need to…" Aki trails off, pointing timidly at the oven.
They blink at him a couple of times, trying to process the meaning behind his words.
He clears his throat. "I need to take the bread out of the oven."
Kit and Gnocchi, "...."
They had both forgotten about the bread. Kit smacks his forehead with his non-burnt hand. "Of course! Please, come in!" He flicks Gnocchi's forehead, "Why didn't you remember sooner?"
"Let's just kill these things and get this over with," he grumbles, heading towards the door and rubbing the spot on his forehead where he'd been hit.
"So what now?" he asks Gnocchi once they're out in the alley behind the bakery. It feels like they're doing something illegal being out here, even though the rational part of his brain tells him they're not.
"Just pour some of it in each?" Gnocchi suggests. They stare at the cages with the gremlins in them. "I would recommend using gloves if you're going to do it, though."
Slack-jawed, he turns to stare at Gnocchi, "What the hell does that thing contain? Is it some kind of acid or what?"
"Ehhh," he makes a so-so gesture with his hand, "you could call it that."
"I'm not going to pour acid onto some gremlins!"
"If it makes you feel better, it's not actually acid."
"No. It really doesn't."
"I can do it if you don't want to," Gnocchi is staring very intently at the gremlins, a faint glint in his eyes.
…It's better if he lets it out of his system now than later.
"I'll wait for you inside then. How long do you think it will take?"
"Not long," Gnocchi squints at the bottle of god-knows-what liquid he's holding up, "I'd say around five to ten minutes. Max."
"You're a hundred percent sure it works, right?"
"Yes, yes," he pushes a few steps, shooing him away. "And if it doesn't work we can still just stomp them out."
Kit goes to wait at one of the tables outside the shop. He peels off the small evil-repelling seal he had placed on himself. It wasn't powerful enough that it would actually ward off any evil spirit, but it was enough to serve as a repellent for the gremlins. He crumples up the piece of paper, dropping it on the table. Seals like this were only good for one use; most seals were, it was only the most complex types which required more than just drawing some symbols on paper. They were mostly for sealing away powerful evil entities, and couldn't be drawn with Indigo, much less normal ink, aside from the process being more complex, involving multiple rites and more complex and elaborate patterns that needed to be drawn. Not to mention the toll it took on the caster. From what he'd read, the amounts of magical energy needed to create something like that were immense, so much that any average human would be pushed to their limits.
He sighs, shaking his head to clear it. What was he thinking about all this for? It's not like he ever had, or would have, the chance to try to do so. All he could do was keep daydreaming about it.
Out of the blue, he spots a familiar figure walking towards the bakery. He stands up, knocking the chair he'd been sitting on backwards. "What are YOU doing here?!" he points at the person, shaking with barely restrained rage.
Baz looks around. "Who? Me?" he points at himself.
"Who else?!"
Baz looks around again. "Ha. I suppose you're right."
"Why, in the name of all that's holy, are you here and not at work?" he massages his forehead.
"I'm buying some breakfast. And I thought Valentine would like something nice."
He prefers to ignore the first part of that sentence, for his own sanity. "Is she still mad at you?"
"She hasn't tried to kill me in the last twenty-four hours, but she's still not talking to me…" he considers the matter very carefully, "so I guess she still is."
That's when he notices: Baz is still in his pyjamas. "You came all the way here and you couldn't even put on decent clothes?!"
Baz looks down at himself, picking loosely at his shirt. "But these are my nice pyjamas," he fake-pouts.
"You–!" The muscle below his right eye twitches. "You're unbelievable. You really have no shame."
"Eh? You think?" he yawns, scratching the side of his face
"At what time did you even wake up today?"
"That's not important," he walks past him and into the shop. "But if I had to say, maybe around 1:30?"
He has to take a few breaths to calm himself before following Baz inside. Baz, of course, is already chatting animatedly with the owner.
"You don't say?" Baz puts on a surprised face at whatever it is Vilma has been telling him.
She nods vigorously as she wraps up a box with a variety of pan dulce with a string. "You would not believe it," she shakes her head, "I was just as surprised as you when I found out."
"Who wouldn't be? And they looked like such a nice kid…" They both sigh in synchronisation. "But what can one do, right?"
"A truly pitiable situation."
Kit stands frozen in place. "Wait. You two know each other?!"
"Yes?" Baz gives him a confused look, as if saying 'shouldn't it be obvious?'.
"He's one of my best clients," she pats Baz's arm fondly.
He doesn't know why he's this surprised. From past experiences, he's come to find there seem to be very few people in this town Baz doesn't know, or at least knows about.
"And I take it you two know each other too?" Now it's the owner's turn to ask.
"Oh, we go way back." Baz pats his shoulder, "I've told you about my friend Kit before, haven't I?"
Her eyes widen in understanding. "Ahhh, so this is your friend," she lays emphasis on the word, "you've told me so much about?"
"Haha…" Baz laughs nervously, "Um. Yes. My FRIEND." He appears to be trying to frantically communicate a message to her with his eyes.
He can tell these two are up to something. He doesn't exactly know what, but it can't be anything good.
By some miracle, Vilma seems to get the memo. "I see… So that's how it is." She turns to face Kit, "Why didn't you tell me you were Kit before?"
…He didn't? He had almost been sure Gnocchi had introduced him. "Uh, well…" He doesn't know what to say.
"Well since you're still here, what do you say about a small thank you gift?" Her attitude towards him seems to have taken a complete 180. "What would you like? Take your pick from the menu, it's on the house. Or wait, I'll surprise you! Don't go anywhere, I'll be back in a minute." She hurries into the kitchen before they can answer.
He catches Baz's eye, but he just shrugs, as if resigning himself to his fate.
"You wouldn't have anything to do with that," he narrows his eyes, studying him.
"Why would you think that?" Baz smiles innocently back.
"Why is she acting so nice all of a sudden? She was definitely not impressed with me just a few moments ago, and now she's offering free food?"
"Can't you just believe it was my naturally charming personality?"
He snorts. "I'm sure you're the only person who thinks you have a 'charming personality'" he air quotes.
"People change?"
"Not that fast."
Baz laughs nervously (for the second time that day, which meant something was DEFINITELY up), "You're overthinking it." He takes a seat in one of the booths. "Can't you just enjoy the good things that come your way?"
Kit takes a seat opposite him, "In my experience, good things rarely, if ever, come my way. And when they do, there's always a catch." A thought occurs to him. "Oh shit, she's going to poison my food." He starts getting up.
"I'm sure she's not," Baz pulls him back down.
At that same moment, the owner comes back from the kitchen, carrying a plate in each hand. "Here you go," she places the food in front of them, "I hope you enjoy." She shoots a wink at Baz before vanishing back into the kitchen. Baz very pointedly ignores her, but the tips of his ears turn slightly pink.
"So," he clears his throat awkwardly, "which one do you want?"
He examines both of them closely. He can tell one of them is some sort of strawberry cake, but the other looks foreign to him. "What's this?" he points at the second dish.
"Chocoflan?"
"Hm." Honestly, either of them could be poisoned. He's going to have to approach this strategically. Which of the two would Vilma think he's more likely to choose? He scrutinises the dishes for a few more seconds.
"What? You don't like chocoflan?"
"Actually, I've never tried it."
"Whaaaat? No way," Baz stares at him in disbelief. "Everyone has had it at least once in their life. I don't believe you."
"Well, it's true. My parents didn't let me eat sweets."
"...You're twenty-seven?" Baz looks like he's trying really hard not to laugh. "You could have tried it in all these years."
He feels flustered, his face growing hot. Truth is, it had felt a little childish, like he was finally rebelling against his parents and gone on a sweets eating spree. But he's not going to admit that. "Limited income," he says instead, "not everyone can afford to throw away money on pointless things like you."
Baz bursts out laughing, his whole face scrunching up, "Oh no, poor you. Your life is so tragic."
He can feel his face growing hotter. "Shut up."
"Here," he pushes the dish with the chocoflan towards him, "you take it, since you've never tried it. I'll take the shortcake."
He just stares at the dessert, still not touching it.
"What is it now?" Baz asks. His eyes are still laughing.
"...I'm still not convinced she didn't poison it."
"Oh my god," he rolls his eyes, "you're unbelievable. Would it make you feel better if I tried it first?" He takes the spoon from his hand, and takes a bite from the chocoflan. "I didn't drop dead, see?" he says after he's swallowed. "Satisfied?"
"Not really. It could be a slow acting poison."
Baz rolls his eyes, grabbing another spoonful of the dessert. He brings the spoon to Kit's lips. "Come on, open up."
He refuses to.
Baz applies more pressure. "Just open up." He still doesn't. "If you don't open up I'll tell everyone about that time you got so drunk you tried to sing My Heart Will Go On during karaoke-"
"Fine!" He opens his mouth petulantly, and Baz slides the spoon in.
At that very moment, Gnocchi decides to come in. "Master Kit, I-" he stops when he lays his eyes on them, the spoon still in his mouth.
"Heyyy Gnocchi," Baz gives him a lazy wave.
"Why are you in your pyjamas?" he asks without missing a beat. "You look pathetic."
He clicks his tongue, pretending to be annoyed, "Everyone's a critic nowadays."
"I was just stating a fact."
Baz clicks his tongue again. "So cheeky. I could have made a comment about your new look. But did I? No."
Gnocchi ignores him. "I can go out again if you want to, Master Kit."
He can feel his face burning. "Are you done, Gnocchi?" He tries to regain his composure.
"Mhm. I threw the cages away though. I don't think anyone would have been able to use them anymore."
"What- You know what? I don't even want to know." He sends out a small prayer for those gremlins' (departed) souls.
Vilma comes out at the sound of Gnocchi's voice. "You're all done?"
"Yeah," Gnocchi looks at the booth once again, "though I think I will be leaving ahead."
"No need," Kit stands up, "I think we should be leaving too."
"But you didn't finish your food," she looks at the barely started chocoflan, "or do you perhaps want it to go? Ah! That's right. Gnocchi, I have your alfajores. I'll bring them to you in a second." She takes the plates of food to pack them up too, emerging seconds later.
As they're about to leave, she stops him and Baz at the door. "Do come back anytime you want," she smiles at them, "BOTH of you. TOGETHER. It was LOVELY having you."
It's only when he gets home that he realises she had also slipped in a coupon into the box containing the chocoflan. It's a coupon for a couples discount.
Damn that lady, he thinks. Was her objective to make his life impossible?