The Dark Matter Sage

The tension in the city began to ease in the weeks following the hostage crisis. While the video of Tony's intervention continued to circulate, the spotlight on his identity dimmed slightly as new events took over the news cycle. Still, whispers of the "Cafeteria Savior" lingered in conversations, and Tony knew his anonymity might not hold forever.

For now, life slowed—at least on the surface. Tony focused on work, training, and spending time with Jay and her family. 

The rich aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and roasted peppers filled the small kitchen, mingling with the sound of sizzling oil and the occasional clatter of utensils. Tony stood at the stove, moving with a chef's precision as he tossed diced onions into a pan. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing toned arms that worked with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times.

Across from him, Jay stood near the counter, looking helplessly at a pile of unpeeled potatoes. A knife rested beside them, but she hadn't picked it up yet.

"You know," Tony teased, glancing over his shoulder, "if you actually peel one, we might eat before midnight."

Jay huffed, crossing her arms. "I don't do peeling. I do eating. There's a difference."

Tony laughed. "And here I thought you loved food."

"I do," Jay said, grinning. "That's why I leave the hard part to people who know what they're doing."

"Like me?" Tony quipped, tossing a pinch of salt into the pan.

"Exactly," Jay replied. "You're my designated kitchen hero."

Mando wandered in, his sneakers squeaking against the tile. At 17, he had the swagger of someone who thought he was the coolest person in any room. He stopped, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"Damn, Tony," he said, leaning against the counter. "That smells legit. What are you making?"

"Chicken stuffed with cheese and spinach, with a side of roasted potatoes," Tony replied, giving the pan a quick flip. "And a salsa verde to top it off."

Mando's eyes widened. "Dude, are you trying to make us adopt you or something?"

Jay groaned. "Don't encourage him. He already thinks he's God's gift to the kitchen."

Tony grinned. "I mean, the proof is in the pan."

Mando grabbed a fork and poked at the raw potatoes. "So what's Jay's contribution? Moral support?"

"Hey!" Jay protested, grabbing the fork out of his hand. "I peeled... wait. No, I looked at the potatoes."

Tony shook his head, laughing. "She's learning. Slowly."

The door opened, and Janeth swept in, her bag slung over one shoulder. She kicked off her heels with a sigh and stopped when she saw the scene in the kitchen.

"Well, well," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Tony's cooking again? Jay, you better hold on to this one."

Jay rolled her eyes, setting the unpeeled potatoes back on the counter. "Mom, can we not?"

"Can we yes?" Janeth shot back, dropping her bag on a chair. She leaned in to smell the pan. "Mmm, esto huele delicioso. ¿Qué estás cocinando, Tony?" (Mmm, this smells delicious. What are you cooking, Tony?)

"Pollo relleno con espinaca y queso, con papas asadas," Tony said, flipping the chicken breasts. (Chicken stuffed with spinach and cheese, with roasted potatoes.)

"¿Y la salsa verde?" Janeth asked, her eyebrows raising in approval. (And the green salsa?)

"Está en proceso," Tony replied, nodding to a bowl of tomatillos waiting on the counter. (It's in progress.)

Janeth gave him an exaggerated look of admiration. "Jay, you might want to keep this man out of my kitchen. If he cooks like this every time, I might steal him."

"Mom," Jay said, exasperated, though she couldn't help smiling.

"I'm just saying," Janeth teased, grabbing a tortilla and nibbling on it. "A man who cooks like this is a treasure."

Tony smirked, tossing the tomatillos into the blender. "Gracias, señora. Pero no puedo cocinar y lavar los platos al mismo tiempo. Ahí es donde entra Jay." (Thank you, ma'am. But I can't cook and wash the dishes at the same time. That's where Jay comes in.)

Mando snorted. "Good luck with that. Jay doesn't touch dishes either."

Jay glared at him. "Why are you even here, Mando?"

"Because I want to eat," Mando said, stealing another tortilla.

Victoria entered next, carrying a bag of chips and a six-pack of soda. She took one look at the kitchen chaos and grinned.

"Tony cooking again?" she asked, setting the bag on the table. "Jay, is he part of the family yet?"

Jay shot her a look. "Victoria, not you too."

"What?" Victoria said innocently. "You're dating a guy who can cook. That's like winning the lottery."

Tony turned from the stove, smirking. "Nice to know someone appreciates my talents."

"Don't let it go to your head," Jay muttered, but her smile betrayed her affection.

When dinner was finally served, the table erupted in praise. Mando dug into his plate like it was his last meal, while Janeth savored each bite with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Tony," she said between bites, "¿cuándo puedo contratarte como chef privado?" (When can I hire you as a private chef?)

Tony chuckled. "¿Cree que puede pagarme, señora?" (Do you think you can afford me, ma'am?)

Janeth laughed, pointing her fork at him. "Con bromas como esa, vas a tener que cocinar gratis." (With jokes like that, you're going to have to cook for free.)

Victoria leaned over to Jay, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Mom's totally flirting with your boyfriend."

"Victoria!" Jay exclaimed, groaning as everyone laughed.

Mando grinned. "She's not wrong."

Tony held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just here to cook. No drama, please."

As the evening wound down, Tony helped clear the table while Jay stacked the dishes. Janeth sat at the table, a glass of wine in hand, watching him with a thoughtful expression.

"You're good for her, you know," she said softly, just loud enough for Tony to hear.

Tony paused, meeting her gaze. "I try to be."

Janeth smiled warmly. "Well, keep trying. You're doing a good job.