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Spike was hungry, though famished would better describe how the paunchy chef was feeling. He had been forced to cook all morning without having a moment to really let himself eat something. Had he tried a few samples? Sure, he always did that in order to both test for quality and to keep the rumbles of his stomach from making his staff nervous, but he hadn't gotten to really eat that morning. That was partially in thanks to the hangover he had from the night out with Keg, but mostly just thanks to his alarm clock deciding that today would be the day that it's batteries gave up the ghost. This made him late, left him rushing, and by the time he had a minute to himself... Famished. So the elk needed to find something to eat, and he needed to do it soon so that he wouldn't let his stomach start to try and devour itself.

"Nim! You cover the kitchen! I need to get something to eat!" Spike shouted over the cacophony of pans, pots, and ovens, all working overtime to keep up with demand in the restaurant. The elk didn't even wait for a reply, though, knowing full well the Aussie could handle a few minutes of making sure nothing was burned so that he could eat. This was, in fact, the whole reason that Spike had hired Nim; she was the best delegater and organizer that he had ever known. A bit on the quiet side, and far too thin, but... She was new to Sasuke's circle, and that would change over time. It had for the elk, so he knew that the canine would find herself having to go up a few sizes in the coming months; if he could get her to stop going to the gym and just being the energetic dog that she was, of course. That would probably fall to Sasuke, though, if the draolf cared enough about what it was. He sometimes did, as he had with Spike, but more often than not, the draolf was quite content to just let things lie and see if his influence alone was enough to shift minds... Which, again, it had for Spike.

Carting an entire pot of soup off to his office, the elk thought back fondly to when he was considerably... Less elk than he was at present. This had been nearly two years before, when he had finally achieved his third and final Michelin Star. It had taken over a decade to get to that point, but the self-taught cook had been honing his craft since he could walk; Spike was passionate about food. Obsessed was almost a better word, though, as there was little time for anything else in his life. This meant that he had few friends, next-to-no social life, and breaks weren't something that he even considered taking. He often slept in his office just to be closer to the kitchen, so much so that he could go weeks without seeing his apartment. Inspiration could strike at any time for him, or at least that was the rationale that he used in order to justify his utter lack of any semblance of a life, or even independence, from his passion. The elk was addicted to cooking through and through, and it showed in everywhere one might expect on him... Except for one crucial spot. This one spot was a big one, and it was one that had nearly cost him his third Michelin star just a few days after he had been given the award.

It had been just three days since the committee had come, the ceremony had ended, and the throngs of customers had begun to flood into the new hottest place in the state. Scores of new faces flooded into the restaurant, and had Spike been anything of a social butterfly, he may have been spending more time meeting all those who wanted to congratulate him. This wasn't the case, though, as Spike much preferred the silent notes of his food over the monotonous conversation with others. Even the ceremony, celebrating his achievements and accomplishments in his chosen field, with other chefs and critics alike all praising him... Spike had thought of an excuse to barely be there past receiving his award, as he did anytime he received something. This lack of appearances and his overwhelming shyness was something that he had become known for, to say the least, as he was simply known as 'Silent Spike' to those in the cooking community. He was silent when he cooked, silent when he was at functions, and silent... Well, in general. If the elk didn't have to say a single word throughout the day and could just speak through his food to everyone around him, then he was going to do that for as long as he was allowed. Of course, that left those around him feeling as if he was either too good for them, or that he hated them. The turnover in his kitchen was high, and so 'Silent Spike' had a different name to his other helpers... One which, looking back at it now, seemed even more apt than 'Silent Spike'; 'Seargent Spike.' The elk did his best to show his helpers what he meant by certain gestures, and did use words sometimes if things were really off, but frankly... He trusted them enough to not need to do much speaking to them, and if they did make a mistake, he simply dumped out the mistake and told them to start again. He wasn't strict, nor was he mean; Spike had never even been capable of such emotions... Or really any for that matter that didn't involve cooking. That, too, was probably what had nearly cost him his Stars.

That third day was one that Spike would never forget, for it was the one when he came into the restaurant. The wolfdragon who had bought him out changed every aspect of his life and given Spike a new chance to really start living. Spike wasn't old at that point, nor was he old now... But he had skipped his younger years, instead devoting them to cooking. The draolf had put a stop to that, and though Spike was eternally grateful... He would never, ever forget when they met, as that was the first time that Spike had actually felt anger at one of his customers. The wolfdragon was good at that, though, where Spike was calm, quiet, and shy; Sasuke was brash, loud, and incredibly forward. There was one other difference too, and that had been the sticking point in their little spat... But the thing that had brought them together to form something that was beyond what Spike had even considered. That was now, though, and ladling out the first of his bowls of soup... Well, what would be the first of the entire pot of soup as Spikes was still famished. The elk was still in his own mind, though, thinking on what had brought him to that point. It was stuck in his head like a song, though... The elk would need to stop drinking with Keg, as that horse always brought out the nostalgia in Spike after all.

"Spike! You have a customer that wants to see you." The elk looked up as he heard this, ears pivoting towards the waiter who had bothered to even shout such a thing. Shaking his head gingerly, Spike's antlers were really in that winter, and he wasn't about to repeat his mistakes of ignoring those large 'handlebars' atop his head... A term he had never fully understood until his first outing with Keg nearly a year later. "But Spike, this one... You're going to want to see him." Spike again shook his head after that insistence, turning back to the rue that he was working on with one of his chefs beside him to hopefully learn something from the elk. "Seriously, Spi-."

"No," the elk finally replied flatly, his attention not even leaving the rue as he rebuked the waiter with one of the very few words he had spoken that day. Everyone in the kitchen looked over when Spike spoke, the occurrence so uncommon that it struck a chord with each of them; some fear, some shock, some confusion.

"Bu-" The waiter started to interrupt again, and Spike was about to tell him to just let it go when they were both stopped in their tracks. The double-doors to the kitchen were loudly clanged open and in their place... Was just a wall of grey fur. A veritable mountain of fluff loomed there for but a moment before rolls formed on its sides, then more, and more still before arms appeared. Legs were nowhere to be seen on the grey mass, but a head popped into view as it ducked rather haphazardly under the doorframe to the kitchen. Fiery orange hair, burning red eyes, a mountain of grey fur... Spike recognized the intruder from the stories he had heard from other restaurants around the area; this was that wolfdragon. Spike didn't even need to see the wings, which came in after the grey stomach of the beast... Though getting that stomach in had been a few grunts and some pushing on the part of the draolf, he was just as big as the rumors had said, if not even bigger. But it was when he was inside the room and standing at his full height that Spike saw just how truly large Sasuke was. There was nothing like the wolfdragon he had ever seen just in his kitchen, a beast that took up nearly all the free space in the front with his stomach alone, his rump and tail needing to protrude out the doors still as he was simply too large for the whole room. He looked like he could eat every item on the menu thrice over and still want to see the dessert menu for another few dozen servings. He was massive, and Spike was immediately intimidated, fascinated... And beyond desperate to cook for him. Someone like the wolfdragon clearly enjoyed his food, and that looked like a challenge for Spike to get him full, one that he was fully ready to accept.

"Where's the head chef?" Sasuke's bassy voice boomed through the kitchen, stopping all work in an instant as the heavy voice, nearly as big as it's owner, cut through the cacophony of pans, ladles, and knives clattering. Sasuke scanned the room as everyone fell still and silent, looking seeming to see who was in charge... But he didn't seem to find what he was looking for. A few moments of overbearing silence continued before Sasuke found the heaviest chef hand in the place and pointed at them. "Is it you?" The canine fervently shook his head, almost shrinking just under the gaze of the wolfdragon. Sasuke frowned, looking around again for another moment before Spike raised one of his hooves. The elk was wilting too under the imposing presence of the wolfdragon, though Sasuke hadn't done anything to deserve that; there was just too much of him to not be intimidated by. "Oh, what is it? You going to point him out for me?"

"It's me," the elk squeaked, barely able to form the words before he wilted even more. He almost tried to slink behind the chef hand he had been training, but somehow found the strength to at least stay where he was... Though he was shaking like a leaf as Sasuke leaned down to give him a once-over.

"There's no way it's you; you're way too scrawny to cook this well," Sasuke replied flatly, standing back up and looking over the room again. "Well, no head che-"

"It is me," Spike interrupted, as forcefully as he could muster despite the nerves and anxieties of speaking filling him to the very brim. He felt that he would burst or just cave in at any moment, but there was at least a modicum of pride buried somewhere in him, and the cervine needed to show it.

"You're serious? Really? You're the head chef?" Sasuke asked, leaning down again to at least look Spike somewhat in the eye; there was a four-foot height difference between the two after all.

"Y-Yes..."

"Well, is he?" Sasuke questioned the room, getting several nods and murmurs of confirmation. It was then that Sasuke leaned down even lower, actually studying Spike now that he had his true head chef. There looked to be loads of confusion on the wolfdragon's face, but the next look was one that Spike had never once forgotten; disgust. There was disgust on the draolf's face, and even though it was just for a moment, it had burned into Spike's mind like an iron into a cow's hide.

"How on earth are you this impressive without being at least a few hundred pounds bigger?" Silence was Sasuke's answer, a frown creasing on the wolfdragon's forehead as he waited a few more moments for an answer. Sighing and shaking his head, the wolfdragon leaned in a little closer to Spike's face before speaking again. "You could be so, so much more than this... And I'm going to show you." Sasuke stood back up again, turning towards the nearest counter in the kitchen. From there... Things started to happen that truly made that meeting unforgettable.

Sasuke, all at once, materialized two cuts of pork shoulder, a searing pan, various spices, a few cuts of lettuce, potatoes... The counter went from vacant to cluttered immediately. Spike had to blink a few times to see this, but he wasn't quite sure as to what he was seeing. The hybrid seemed to not even bat an eye at this, lifting up various ingredients to inspect them, and even trying a few of the spices to taste-test them; a task which Spike rarely took part in as he was always more interested in the final product. He had amazing vendors, however, so Spike just trusted their judgment. Sasuke didn't seem to agree with this, nor with some of his choices as a few of the spices vanished as fast as they had appeared, only to be replaced an instant later. It took almost a minute for the wolfdragon to be satisfied with his selection, but once he was, things began to move again.

The pork shoulder lifted itself off the table, slowly spinning above the table as Sasuke got to work. One paw armed with a smattering of spices that he had grabbed seemingly at random, the draolf used his free paw to start slicing slits into the pork's skin. Cutting short, deliberate slices, the draolf was able to fill each crevice with spices without fully de-skinning the pork. He went around twice, making sure to get plenty of coverage before the pork shoulder lowered itself down onto the table again. Once there, the draolf got to work on the second shoulder... Simply by skinning it. The rest of the pork he then cubed, buttered liberally, and then got to work searing. He seared... By breathing fire onto the pan. It was controlled, sure, but it was far more aggressive and hot than anything that Spike had ever seen done to meat. The draolf did this for but a few moments though, spinning the large shoulder every which-way before giving it another blast and then coating the blasted sides immediately after with some sort of glaze that had been forming behind him.

The same treatment was given to the pork cubes, though the skin of the second shoulder... That was draped over the first, along with chunks of pure fat from the second shoulder that the draolf had shaved off. Once all that was handled, the vegetables were diced by the claws of the draolf rather rapidly, and certainly faster than someone of his size should have been able to muster, before they were dumped right into the tray. The lettuce was also placed around the shoulder too, carefully put beneath everything else as if it were there simply to catch the juices and nothing else. A few more spices, some salt, and pepper for taste... And Sasuke handed the dish off to Spike, leaning down to over him the tray.

"Now, cook that low and slow, for at least 3 hours. When it comes out, serve that to the staff and yourself. If you can do better... Then I will eat my words, but if you can't, then I want you to come and work for me in my town, and we will see about expanding your horizons... In more ways than one, shall we say, tiny."

Spike hadn't been able to do better; he hadn't even been able to come close at first. He was a three-star chef, had years and years of training and practice; he lived cooking... And yet, he hadn't been able to do better. So it had been an easy choice for him to come and work for the wolfdragon, though it had been... Well, a rather expansive change for him. Sasuke didn't permit him to sleep in the restaurant, and he imposed a rather strict limit on working hours as well; overtime was allowed to a point, but living in the kitchen wasn't. Spike had no idea what to do with this at first, but as time had worn on... Well, he had needed to find something to do, so he had started going out. He was still painfully shy and quiet, but he found his footing eventually... And well, blossomed from there. The change had been somewhat forceful, but Sasuke had, of course, never once said anything was a must. He always, always made sure that Spike had an out. There was no contract, no conditions, nothing; Sasuke even funded his restaurant for the time that he was deciding what he wanted to do. Spike... Well, the elk had known the change was needed, but without the brash, loud, charismatic wolfdragon to lead him on, there was no way that he would have made that change. He did, though... And now he was reaping the benefits.

Those benefits, of course, rested heavily in his lap and were sloshing loudly with soup. That poor pot hadn't stood a chance, and that was, of course, another thing thanks to Sasuke. Not trusting a skinny chef was indeed a real fact, as Spike now was working on his third Michelin star yet again for this new restaurant; in less than two years. Putting on nearly 300 pounds in that same time was making just as many headlines, but the reputation of 'Silent Spike' being as reclusive and shy as he was... Well, that helped keep the tabloids of the food world away from his doorstep. Still... Spike was opening up now, he was enjoying what he cooked nearly as much as he did cooking it, and he had formed a few friends for the first time in his life. Life was good, and... As the elk gave his gut another slosh, a low chirr of contentment coming from his mouth as he felt all that soup in there... He felt fulfilled.

At least, in one aspect.

"Nim!"