[One for all] I Can't Believe a Year Went By So Fast

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Nikola is bored, a fact he finds patently unfair as it's his birthday, and for once he's not holed up in an abandoned manor somewhere with no one but unintelligent, undead minions for company.

He thinks there should be cake, at the very least, so he's wandered down to the kitchen in an attempt to either scrounge some up or make one himself.

Probably someone should intervene before the Big Guy finds him snooping around the kitchen.

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"It's a German chocolate cake," Nikola says. "It should be chocolatey, but not overly so, and not rich."

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"You've got it," Will answers, saluting. "When I'm left to my own devices, I modify German chocolate in all kinds of ungodly ways involving baker's chocolate and spices. I won't even freak out your inner purist by getting into that. It's your birthday cake and, if you want traditional, you get traditional."

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"Somethings cannot be improved upon," Nikola says.

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"Traditions become traditional for a reason," Will agrees, sifting together the dry ingredients. He eyes the stand mixer for a moment, then shakes his head and decides that if he's going to do it, he might as well do it right.

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"Exactly," Nikola says.

Of course, he has absolutely nothing against using electronics whenever possible.

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Will pulls the bowl out of the freezer, puts a new one in, and starts beating the egg-whites. "So, I hear you and Owen Harper are making friends?"

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"Hmm? Oh, the dead boy. I don't know that I'd say friends exactly."

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"Yeah, the dead guy." Will nods. "I was hoping maybe you could help him out. He says there's some kind of energy-source keeping him alive, but he has no clue what it is or how long it might last. I figured, given your way with energy in general, you might be able to help isolate what that energy-source might be so we can find a way to replicate it and keep him from unexpectedly keeling over and not getting back up."

He starts folding the egg-whites into the batter. "I'm like some kind of undead magnet lately. There's you, there's Owen, there's this Ardeth Bay guy. Very strange..."

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"Mmm...yes, ghouls and zombies all over the place," Nikola mutters.

"I suppose I could look into it."

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"I'd appreciate it if you could look into it. I think it would really help Owen feel a little more empowered than he does right now." He smiles at Tesla, pouring the batter into cake pans. "Want to lick the bowl?" he offers.

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"Appealing to my sense of altruism is rather pointless, William. As I'm sure you've discovered, I don't have one."

He arches an eyebrow at the offer. "What am I, twelve?"

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"Does that mean I get dibs?" Will asks as he puts the cake in the oven and sets the timer.

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"Knock yourself out," Nikola offers.

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"Hey, thanks." Will cheerfully licks what he can of the bowl, using his fingers to get the rest, then rinsing the bowl in the sink and putting it in the dishwasher before starting on the cherries, oblivious to the smear of chocolate on his nose. "Licking the bowl always reminds me of when Mom was still alive," he explains, turning on the heat.

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"Yes, yes, I know," Nikola says, waving a dismissive hand. "Eight years old, Helen saved you. Guardian angel, blah, blah, blah. I've heard this one already."

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"Actually, no, you haven't. I was going to segue into how, when I was that age, I wanted to be a stay-at-home dad when I grew up..."

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Nikola picks up a cherry and nibbles at it absently. "And instead you've landed yourself with massive psychological problems and a serious case of hero worship. I'd say you've exceeded your goals."

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Will shrugs. "It's entirely possible I have outdone myself. So much for the suburban drone I aspired to be. Ah, well. Maybe in ten years after we've toppled the Cabal and made the world safe for abnormals again..."

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"Mm...and then you can pass on your issues to a whole new generation. Excellent plan."

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"Hey, not just my issues. Also all the issues of their assorted honorary aunts and uncles...:

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"I wouldn't let me near your child if I were you."

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"I'll bear that in mind..."

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Nikola smirks. "'Uncle Nikola' does have a nice ring to it, though, doesn't it?"

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Will focuses on his stirring, hissing when he stirs too hard and splashes boiling cherry juice onto his hand.

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Nikola's smirk deepens for a moment, and then turns to a frown. "Please tell me you didn't find a recipe that doesn't call for Kirsch."