Alex turned down the dimly lit corridor and pushed into the stairwell. She hadn't been able to sleep and it came as no surprise. There was the jet lag for one. Then the strangeness of being back in the States for the first time in over a decade and the foreign bed. Yes all of that had put her off kilter, but what was actually keeping her wide awake was excitement.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Alex was so excited that she couldn't sleep.

In truth, she wasn't used to experiencing any kind of extreme emotion anymore. Her time with the monks had taught her control and the value of balance. Living in a state of heightened emotions whether they be positive or negative, led to irrationality and bad decisions.

But even with thousands of hours of meditation under her belt, Alex could't control the fluttering of her heart that was now filling up with hope. Hope that she wouldn't have to hide anymore. Hope that she might be able to go out into a crowd without absorbing everyones pain. Hope that she would be able to see her brother without the fear of ruining his life.

Calm yourself, Alex!

Reaching the 24th floor, Alex stepped out into the corridor. Pretrichor was dark, its doors firmly shut as were the doors of the bar on the opposite side of the hallway. She glanced at the clock above the elevator: 3:05am. Damn! If she had been thinking straight, Alex would have looked at the clock before coming here in the hopes of gaining access to the kitchen.

She was turning back towards the elevator when a voice stopped her.

"Hello madame, are you lost?" A male security guard appeared from the direction of the stairwell. She was impressed; they must have been watching the monitors closely in the security room to send someone so quickly .

"No, not lost." Alex considered going back to her room, but she knew she would just end up pacing the floors again. Only the kitchen could soothe her now. There was one thing she could try... "You don't happen to have a key for the restaurant do you?"

The security guards small eyes popped open at the request. "A key?"

At least he hadn't told her to leave. Alex pressed her luck, "Yes, a key. I'm a chef here and need to do some prep work. Unfortunately I haven't been given a key."

The guard blinked blankly for another moment before touching a button on his black watch. "What's your name, miss?"

He could well be calling back up, but at this point even being questioned was favourable to being left alone with the storm inside her head.

"Alex Turner."

Keeping his expression neutral, he spoke into his watch, "Ms Alex Turner wants into Pretrichor."

The response came into his earpiece a few moments later. Alex watched the security guard blink, nodd and blink again before he turned her way. "Someone's coming right up to let you in Chef Turner."

Someone was coming to open the door? Alex wasn't over her surprise at how easy that had been when a female security guard came out of the elevator with a beaming smile and a set of keys.

"I apologise for making you wait Chef Turner. Mr Moncrief did leave instructions that we were to open the restaurant if you asked to be let in tonight, but we didn't expect you to be wanting in at this hour..."

Mr Moncrief. Just the mention of his name sent Alex's pulse racing. How had he done it? How was it possible that Alex had felt Gabriel Moncrief so acutely when he grabbed her hand, felt the dull aching pain his his stomach, felt the sting of his fingers digging into the palm of his free hand, felt everything and then suddenly: Nothing. Nothing at all! As if she had been holding on to a marble statue rather than a breathing human being. It was like he had pushed a button and raised a wall, stopping her from feeling him. But, how? How!?

"If you'll follow me, Chef? The kitchen has a second lock." The security guard interrupted her errant thoughts and Alex was grateful for it. Her thinking was too erratic. She needed to run through things calmly. She needed to bake.

The security guard, Mary Johnson she said her name was, chattered all the way through the restaurant, then turned on the kitchen lights before leaving Alex to her own devices.

She looked around the sparkling metal counter tops and took a deep breath. Whoever was in charge of cleaning, they had done a fine job. The smell of the lemon scented cleaning product was pleasant and the cloths that had been used to wipe the surfaces were new.

Of all the scents that existed in the world, the smell of old cleaning cloths was among the ones Alex truly abhorred. There were far worse smells of course, but most of them were the result of something useful. Even the scent of decaying meat, which was truly horrific, was a result of decomposition, a necessary process in the circle of life.

Old wet cleaning rag had no function in the world other than to drive Alex crazy.

Delving into the food storage, she collected the ingredients for a simple Cantonese milk bread then grabbed a handful of plums that had an unusual combination of sweet and tart scent.

It took a while to find the mixing bowls and utensils, but once she was pouring heavy cream into milk, a weight seemed to lift off of her chest. Eggs, sugar, cake flour, yeast and salt; they all went into the bowl one by one. Her breathing slowed along with her pulse as she tested the smells that rose from the batter. An image of her mother came to her mind, her warm smile as she would stand behind their old kitchen counter, kneading cookie dough. Alex closed her eyes, savouring the picture as she finished mixing. Then, covering the bowl with a clean dish towel, she got started on the plum filling.

Gabriel Moncrief. Alex allowed herself to think of the man once more as she softened a block of butter. She had to find out how he was raising an impenetrable wall around himself.

It was possible. It had to be possible.

She whisked caster sugar into the butter, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm. If he could do it, then surely she could learn too. But how was she going to ask him without making herself seem like a crazy woman? What if he wasn't actually aware of what exactly he was doing and it all sounded ridiculous to him? Or if he was aware, what he wouldn't admit it? Why would he when he barely knew her... or what if he did admit and wanted to know how she knew? Could she tell him her secret?

The faces of dozens of psychiatrists that had tried to 'cure' her in the hospital flashed before her eyes. 'She is not stable.' 'We are worried.' They had tried to convince her that she belonged in a mental institution.

Biting her lip, Alex grabbed the plums. Perfectly juicy and ripe, she peeled them quickly and searched for a pan.

She would have to go slow. Find out everything she could about Gabriel. It was possible that she might come across the answer on her own. It could be a particular type of meditation, or a martial art. Maybe he practiced bioenergy techniques. She had tried so many over the years, but there were so many more she had probably not even heard of.

While the scent of maple butter and plums drifted from the pan, she went in search of desiccated coconut.

She would go slow, ask simple questions, observe him and in the mean time give him a chance to see that she wasn't crazy. She needed him to believe she was sane if she ran out of time and had to ask about his skill point blank. Yes, that was the best way to move forward.

Having settled on a plan of action, Alex felt the last of the undesired anxiety melt away. She turned her full attention to her western take on Gai Mei Bao, the traditional cocktail buns.

A while later the sticky-warm scent of plum buns filled the kitchen. Alex placed the tray on the counter, checking to make sure they had crisped to a nice golden colour. She took a deep breath, noting the uniquely mixed scent of the traditional dough with the dark sweetness of maple and slight sour notes of the plums. If she had a scoop of cardamom and vanilla bean ice-cream, the desert would be complete.

"What are you doing?"

Alex looked up to find Luca entering the kitchen. He was dressed in blue jeans and a forest green top, his handsome features drawn in displeasure. She took a small step back, turning towards him.

He was only an arms length away now, the scent of peppermint drifting from the tips of his freshly washed hair as he looked over the tray of buns. "Aren't you going to answer?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Her answer didn't seem to cool his temper unless she was misreading the flash of gold in his eyes. He looked from her to the tray and back, then she saw him sigh.

"I guess I have to get used to the way you talk."

Alex's brows rose, "The way I talk?"

He ignored her now, picking up one of the pastries and sniffing. "Gai Mei bao?"

He was a chef, so there was no reason to be impressed with his knowledge of cantonese deserts, and yet she was.

"Maple and the Zwetsche plums," he said to himself before taking a bite.

It was at that moment that she realised her error. She had used his ingredients without thought, a big no no in any kitchen. Flour, vanilla and all the rest of it they would have been able to spare, but fresh ingredients with short expiry dates like plums? They were most likely to be used that day at lunch or dinner and now she had ruined the menu...

"I was thoughtless, I am sorry." Alex said, feeling like a fool. This was precisely why giving into emotions was a bad idea. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so thoughtless and what good would her apology do when it was unlikely that she could replace the plums in time? "Will you be able to recover the menu?"

Luca glanced at her from his continued inspection of the pastry in his hand. "It doesn't suit you." he said before popping the rest of it in his mouth.

"The buns?" She asked, confused.

"That self depreciating look," he correcting, leaning his hip on the counter. "I prefer it when you're being arrogant."

"Arrogant?" She almost laughed, amazed that she had been called arrogant by him of all people. "I suppose those are kind words since they are coming from a narcissist."

"Hardly," he crossed his arms over his broad chest, grinning now. "I just know what I'm good at. And I know what is good." He nodded towards the tray of pastries. "That is good. We can use them instead of the pie the plums were meant for."

She was glad he had come up with an alternative for the gap in his menu, but the pastries on their own couldn't be served...

"They'll need ice-cream," Luca interrupted her thoughts, starting towards the storage. "Cardamom and vanilla bean should go nicely."

That was exactly what she had been thinking! They were strangely in tune. "You don't have pinewood spoons do you?"

Luca turned back, his brows raised in amusement. "Does it have to be pinewood?"

Alex nodded.

"Is there something going on between you and Moncrief?"

"No." She was so surprised by the random question that she answered without thinking.

Luca looked pleased, his lopsided smile giving him a boyish air. "Good."

What did he mean good?

"What about the spoons?" Alex asked, when he turned away.

"I'll have them purchased," He threw over his shoulder, then he disappeared into the food storage.