Piano Days and Other Malec One-Shots

Spaghetti on the Walls

The apartment was incredibly loud when the doorman's voice broke through, crackling over the speaker.

"Uh, Mr. Bane?"

The fire alarm continued beeping.

"Yes?"

"Did you know your fire alarm has been going off for twenty minutes now?"

"Um, yes," Alec said, dropping a lid onto the boiling pot of water. It made a loud crashing sound and for a second, Alec thought the glass had cracked.

"Should I call the fire department?"

"No, no, everything's fine," Alec shouted.

In reality, there was boiling water, burning sauce, and bread sticks on the brink of being charred.

"Well, the other residents are complaining, Mr. Bane—"

"It's Alec!" Alec screamed, exhausted.

"Oh— well, Mr.— Alec— I'm going to shut it off, okay?"

"Thank you!"

A few seconds later, the apartment was just a little bit quieter.

Then the spaghetti sauce popped, sending flecks of red flying.

"Damn it." Alec reached for a dish towel and started cleaning up.

Chairman Meow made his first appearance of the day by hopping up onto the counter.

Alec threw the towel over his shoulder and pulled the lid off the boiling water.

Why did it smell more like burning oil?

He dumped a box of cavatappi into the water. The water turned cloudy.

Was it supposed to do that as well?

The phone started ringing.

Alec hurried to grab the phone.

As he accepted the call, he pushed the Chairman, hoping the cat would get off the counter. He didn't budge.

"Hello?"

"Are you busy?" Isabelle asked. She had gotten into the habit of not saying "hello" when she answered the phone.

"Um—" Alec glanced around the kitchen. It looked like a war zone. But if he didn't say yes, he'd risk Isabelle's wrath. "No."

"I think Clary is mad at me."

"Okay, why?" Alec asked. He stirred the pot of pasta and put a lid on the sauce.

Isabelle started telling a story that Alec only half-listened to as he whirled around the room, cleaning, stirring, setting out plates, and panicking about everything that had to be done.

Isabelle finally finished a few minutes later.

"—so what should I do?"

"Apologize," Alec said.

"Apologize? That's all you have to say?"

"Isabelle, you're making a big deal out of nothing—"

Alec turned around. The spaghetti sauce was burning again, smoking billowing out of the pot.

"Damn it!" Alec shouted.

"Alec—?"

"Isabelle, I've got to go—"

"Oh my gosh, it's—"

"Yes, it is," Alec said, through clenched teeth.

"And you're trying to make dinner?"