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Mrs. Williams will never not drive Arthur insane. Everyday, without fail, the woman will come in claiming something is wrong with her. He swears he’s never met such a hypochondriac before. That’s really saying something considering Arthur has been frequenting this hospital even before his internship. He’s made routine appearances with his father for as long as he can remember. This woman is simply crazy. She’s obviously visiting the wrong place.
Now. Now because of Mrs. Williams and her never ending list of things gone wrong, he’s running behind schedule which is something that rarely happens because the words late and Arthur Pendragon never appear in the same sentence. They do sometimes but that’s only if Leon absolutely needs something. Arthur doesn’t waste his time for anyone. It’s okay to be a little tardy if it’s for Leon. It’s the perks of being the son of the guy who owns the hospital.
Arthur knows the moment he walks into the coffee shop - his favorite place other than his apartment - that something is seriously wrong. Almost like when Gwaine set his watch back for two hours again wrong. The pastry case is half empty and his usual barista (bless Gwen for memorizing his order so quickly) is missing.
“Welcome to Camelot! What can I get you?” the barista who clearly is not Gwen asks. This barista is too big eared, wide eyed, and very decidedly male to be Gwen.
He doesn’t try to hide his disappointment and immediately frowns. “Where’s Gwen?”
The barista actually laughs. Arthur has to keep his stern face on. He doesn’t have time to think the man’s laugh is any bit endearing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have ‘where’s Gwen’ on the menu. Perhaps you’d like to have some coffee instead. I’d suggest our caramel macchiato. You can’t go wrong with caramel.”
“You think I’m joking?” Arthur crosses his arms over his chest and gives the barista his best Pendragon intimidation glare. Zeroing in on the man’s nametag, he tries not to laugh too much. As much as Gwen’s absence is throwing off his daily routine, he isn’t going to cause a scene. His face is in a painting in the nearby hospital for Pete’s sake. People know him. “Merlin? Your name is seriously Merlin and you’re working at a place called Camelot.” It isn’t a question.
“You’re very good at being observant but I’m better because I can see the customers on line behind you that you can’t see. Can I take your order, sir?” the barista - Merlin - tries again. His fingers are hovering over the cash register to key in the order.
“Fine.” He gives in. “I’ll just take a coffee. Black.” He doesn’t have any more time to waste.
Merlin nods as he enters the order. “That would be $3.15, sir. Can I get your name for the order?”
Without thinking, Arthur responds honestly. He doesn’t expect a crappy drawing of a castle on his coffee cup. Merlin gives it to him anyway. He’s almost a bit sad to see it sitting in the trash can when he’s done with it.
&&&
Merlin is still very much not Gwen the next time Arthur goes to Camelot for his usual. He contemplates making Merlin make the drink for him anyway but given how last time he almost knocked the can of coffee beans over, Arthur can’t help but think that won’t end well. He knows the building is very old and if Merlin set it on fire, that would just be terrible. Not only would the building go down but Arthur would also have to find a new coffee place.
This time, however, the pastry case is full. Arthur made sure that he would be able to come extra early so he could purchase his daily treat. The cupcakes always do the trick for even the toughest days. He’s had Morgana try to replicate the recipe but Arthur can tell from the first bite that something is missing.
“Coffee. Black. I’ll have a chocolate fudge cupcake as well.” Arthur says, digging through his pocket for his wallet. Instead, his first try all he finds is a surgical glove, a small bottle of hand sanitizer and car keys. He pats his back pockets only to find that they’re both empty.
“No worries.” Leon says, clamping a friendly hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I’ll cover it this time. You must’ve just left it in your coat jacket again.”
The barista is still as chipper as ever. Merlin immediately keys in the first order and waits. “So which Knight of the Round Table have you brought with you today?”
Arthur cringes when Leon smiles. “You may call me Sir Leon,” he laughs. “I think I’m in the mood for something cold. I’ll have a chocolate frappuccino with some of those chocolate shavings. Gwen’s frappuccinos are always the best.”
Merlin’s smile falters briefly before he sputters out the amount due. Leon doesn’t blink an eye but Arthur keeps watch on the barista’s actions. Merlin succeeds in not knocking anything over luckily. All seems like it’s going smooth until he turns to begin Leon’s drink and stops. He flashes a shy smile over at the two men waiting as he tries to subtly pull out a book from underneath the counter. Arthur can’t tell what the book is while trying to seem inconspicuous until Merlin opens it up.
Taking Leon by the arm, Arthur pulls the man away from the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Leon asks.
“He has to look up how to make your drink.” Arthur says beneath his breath. Hesitantly, he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Merlin nearly pouring something on his arm. “Do you see that? He has no clue what he’s doing.”
Leon frowns, giving Arthur that look that almost makes the man feel guilty. “Give the guy a break. He’s obviously new. I’ve been coming here with you for years and I’ve never seen Merlin before. Not all coffee is as easy to make as black coffee.”
Behind the counter Merlin has moved on from making the coffee to snapping lids on both cups. He starts to move to the pastry case when, from the kitchen Lance - while Arthur appreciates the familiar face but he knows Lance and Lance can’t bake for shit - comes out to call Merlin over. Lance has flour all over his apron and what looks to be egg dripping onto his forehead from his hairline.
Suddenly Arthur feels like ordering a cupcake may have been a mistake.
“How about we switch?” Lance proposes. He already has the hairnet off and is working on tugging off the apron when Merlin notices he’s there.
“I’m finishing up with a customer.” Merlin replies, fishing out a cupcake from the case. He gets a bit of icing on his finger. Arthur knows that can’t be sanitary yet he almost - almost - wants to lick it off the man.
Lance turns, notices Arthur and Leon standing there, and makes a face that Arthur almost thinks is disgusted. Maybe a bit pitying. “I’ll take it up from here. Once you finish up the next two batches of cupcakes, you can tell Gwaine to come out. You might even want to kick him out earlier than that.”
Merlin sighs in relief. “He complaining about his hair being messed up?”
“You know how he is. I bet two weeks and he’ll be complaining to Gwen.”
“I have more faith in him than that. I give him three.”
&&&
Arthur has tried to figure out a schedule of when his beloved baker would be in.
Apparently Lance can bake for shit because this cupcake is the best he’s had in a while. Arthur doesn’t sugar coat things. That’s one thing he’s gotten from his father. But when it comes to Gwen, he just hadn’t the heart to tell her that his usual won’t contain his usual cupcake unless the person who baked their way into his heart is back there.
Considering all the time Lance spent up front between ringing up orders, wiping down tables and ogling Gwen like a man in love, Arthur just never imagined he had time for the kitchen too.
Weird.
&&&
The third time Arthur comes in for coffee Gwaine is at his usual spot behind the counter. The man has the nicest hair Arthur has seen on a man in a while. He can see why his friend hates hairnets. As he waits on line he tries to imagine him with a hairnet on and fails. The picture doesn’t stick.
“What can I get for you, man?” Gwaine asks. Arthur could almost swear that the man said it with a wink too.
“Black coffee.”
Gwaine rings Arthur up, humming loudly to the music playing overhead.
Merlin is oddly missing but the cupcake is amazing. All in all, the visit ends pretty well.
&&&
“Welcome, King Arthur!” Merlin exclaims loudly as the door chimes.
It’s been a week since Arthur has seen Merlin. The second day the man had been missing, Lance had been up front. When he complimented the man on his baking, Arthur got a look of confusion. The cupcakes after that - even the chocolate chip cookies - didn’t taste the same. Something went missing like when Morgana had tried.
Basically, it tasted terrible.
“I see you’re back.” Arthur says, getting his money ready. He already knows what the amount will come to, no sweets included. It had been a very dry week. Not even Mrs. Williams and her bizarre illness of the week could possibly cheer him up.
Merlin blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I had exams and this kid Mordred gave me a cold. I was stuck in bed almost the whole week.”
“Right, well, you know my order.”
“How could I not? You’re such a creature of habit. I’ve never thought I’d ever meet another Will.” Merlin taps in the order, the amount due appearing in a larger number than expected. Arthur almost doesn’t notice having to stop and think about who Will might be. Can’t be another new Camelot employee. “Is something wrong?”
Arthur taps his finger on the order screen. “It should be $3.15.” He resists asking who this mystery man is. It shouldn’t matter to Arthur if his new favorite clumsily endearing barista has a boyfriend. The man can barely make a cup of coffee and everyone at the hospital knows how much coffee means to Arthur.
“You don’t want a cupcake?” Merlin questions. “Have you been replaced by a pod person? You always get something extra. A cupcake, cookie, cake, pie. Something. They’re fresh out of the oven.”
“No, I’m still Arthur. The desserts here just aren’t the same lately. I think I’ll pass.” Arthur watches his order go down. For some reason Merlin looks sad. Arthur can’t help but think he’s the one who caused it. “My sister told me I’ve been getting a bit fat. I’m proving her wrong,” he adds in attempt to make Merlin feel better.
“Well,” Merlin’s eyes trail over Arthur’s body briefly before deciding, “I suppose you are getting a bit fluffier than when I first met you. Perhaps it’s for the best.”
On his styrofoam cup Merlin draws a deformed dragon. It makes Arthur smile on his walk all the way back to the hospital.
&&&
Arthur gets away with showing up back at the hospital, only a coffee cup in hand a handful of times before someone calls him out on strange behavior. He plays it off cool in front of the other interns. Although he should’ve seen it coming, he still jumps when Morgana barges out of the elevator and makes a beeline for him. Her heels should be uncomfortable to walk around a hospital all day but leave it to Morgana to be the exception to this rule.
“Shouldn’t you be making sure that Mr. Long on the fourth floor makes it into recovery in one piece. You know how those RNs are at wheeling people around. They aren’t exactly gentle.” Arthur says in lieu of a greeting. His Morgana senses didn’t go off in time for him to flee.
She crosses her arms over her chest and says, “Leon says something is going on with you. He sounded concerned.”
“Yes, I am quite concerned. I heard we may be harboring a criminal on our ninth floor. He bled out on our floor yesterday right over the hospital’s crest. It’s because of people like him that we can’t have nice things in this world.” Arthur puts a hand over his heart and pretends to look wounded.
Morgana looks even more determined to get Arthur to crack now than she had been before. “You told Leon that I said you’ve gotten fat.”
“Well you have.”
If anything, Arthur’s response only encourages Morgana to persist further. “I may have mentioned it before but that’s certainly never stopped you from actually listening to me before. May I remind you that you almost threw a hissy fit when father got your cake from A&P instead of Camelot? Not only do you love your sweets but you’re very picky about where they come from. All of a sudden you just quit cold turkey. Something is up.”
Arthur looks down at his clipboard. Maybe if he asks nicely Mr. Wilson on the ninth floor will stab him next. “Many things are up, Morgana. The lights above our head, the sky, the inflammation in this economy. Really, why did father think it was a good idea to build a hotel in America? We had a perfectly good thing going in London.”
“It’s called expanding one’s horizons, Arthur.” Morgana scowls when a buzzing goes off in her pocket. “I have work to do. I understand being an intern is horrible but it’s only fair. Father would get so many complaints if it got out that his son was just handed a job here.”
“Thank you, Morgana. That’s a lovely speech.” Arthur taps his foot and ignores the side looks he’s getting from Leon. Some friend.
A perfectly manicured nail pokes Arthur in the chest. “Whatever it is that you’re hiding, Arthur, I will find out. I have my ways.”
He doesn’t dare respond. He knows that his sister is right, anyway.
&&&
Morgana must be a witch.
It isn’t often that Arthur spends his days off actually resting. Usually spending time with Percy or Elyan takes up his spare time. After a patient recently woken up from anesthesia decided to puke on him without warning, he decided to call Friday Arthur Day. He would take no phone calls and just enjoy the day being all about Arthur.
Morgana calls twice and he lets it go to his voicemail both times. So really, he only has himself to blame when instead of a third call Morgana simply lets herself in with his spare key. She smells faintly of antiseptic when she initially arrives and plops down onto his couch.
“Space Invaders, really?”
Arthur shrugs. He’s always been a sucker for the classics.
“I went to your little coffee place today. You didn’t tell me that their staff hired models.” Morgana grins in a way that makes Arthur suspicious. He waits for her to continue. “Lancelot told me that you’ve been waxing poetic about their sweets lately.”
“The baking there just hasn’t been up to par lately. You know I have high expectations for those kinds of things.” Arthur answers, not looking his sister in the eye. He found out from a young age that she can smell fear.
Even without the eye contact, she’s less than convinced. “A nice employee Merlin suggested the red velvet to me. I’ve always thought red velvet was like a glorified version of chocolate but it was really good. I think it was above par.” Frowning, Morgana mutes the TV and takes the game controller away from him. “Tell me, is this Merlin available by chance?”
Briefly, Arthur thinks back to the man Will. He doesn’t know this man Will has over Arthur but it must be great. “He’s got a boyfriend from what I understand.”
Morgana, caught off guard though undeterred, replies, “I suppose he must have a talent for attracting oblivious men with a large sweet tooth.”
“Lance will just have to wait on line. He can’t just bake his way into Merlin’s heart. Not when he has Will.”
Morgana calls Arthur stupid, which, really, is old news.
&&&
As he examines Mrs. Williams, he tries not to think about poor Merlin and his odd love triangle. Will must be one lucky guy. If Arthur got to be in Will’s shoes, he would immediately find Merlin another coffee shop to ruin someone else’s coffee there. He already has a place picked out in his head. The cake isn’t nearly as good as Camelot’s but at least there won’t be another baker possibly leading on his - not his, Will’s - boyfriend on.
Arthur nearly goes into Camelot with the full intention of telling Merlin so until he realizes it’s just the sugar withdrawal talking. The strange man sitting at the counter distracts him anyway. After a year and a half of frequenting Camelot he knows the regulars and even the patrons who come in occasionally. This man is neither or these things.
“King Arthur has returned!” Merlin greets, Arthur’s order keyed in - $3.50 as it should be - by the time Arthur makes his way to the front.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Merlin.” Arthur responds lightly. He tries not to look at the strange man too obviously as he slides his credit card.
Arthur thinks back to what Morgana had said. The man sitting at the corner is eating red velvet, a bit of icing smeared on his bottom lip. At one point, Arthur enjoyed eating the red velvet too. Lance really runs hot and cold in the kitchen.
“Arthur,” Merlin says, sapping Arthur out of his thoughts, “this is the Will I’ve been talking about.” The alleged boyfriend. “Will, this is Arthur. He’s a regular in every sense of the word. He only has one order. He never gets anything different.”
Will chuckles, spinning on the stool to face Arthur. “It’s nice to meet you. It isn’t often that Merlin speaks highly of a customer.”
The tips of Merlin’s ears turn red. “That was one time. I swear that customer was a clotpole anyway. It was my first time making that drink. He didn’t have to yell at me so much.”
“You can’t blame him,” Will rolls his eyes. “Your talents really belong elsewhere.”
For a moment Arthur sees red. Not only is Will settling for a subpar cupcake but he’s insulting Merlin’s barista skills as well. Merlin may not have that strong of barista skills but Arthur has never thought of bringing his coffee back. When Leon had thought about dumping his frappuccino in the trash, Arthur nearly had a cow. Merlin tried to make the drink taste good. He even took out a recipe book.
Nobody around here really appreciates Merlin’s work, Arthur thinks to himself.
“Are you alright, Arthur?”
Arthur blinks.
“You were looking kind of constipated a couple seconds ago.” Merlin reaches across the counter to put his hand on Arthur’s forehead, feeling the man’s temperature. “You don’t feel warm. Is everything okay?”
He says yes unconvincingly, hoping Merlin won’t call him out on it.
Instead, Will does. “You don’t look too hot, man. You should probably sit down.” Will goes to pull out the stool beside him - a place where Arthur feels like he’d actually feel worse sitting - when his phone goes off. “I have to get back to work. Don’t forget to pick up milk on the way home.”
Arthur feels worse in hearing that they live together. Not only is Merlin in a relationship but apparently he’s in a long term relationship. It can’t possibly be Merlin who makes the early morning coffee all cute and sleepily, hair all over the place.
“Don’t you trust me?” Merlin demands in a way that looks like a kitten trying to intimidate a large dog. “Doesn’t being your best friend get automatic trust points?”
Will slips off the stool, pulling on his jacket. “You must be at least a level nine friend to unlock automatic trust points.”
Level nine friend.
Friend.
Not boyfriend.
Arthur takes his coffee around the corner to Freya’s Ice Cream Parlor to celebrate. Morgana must never know why.
&&&
“When,” Leon begins to ask, looking much too smug, “will you admit the true reason you keep going back to Camelot?”
Arthur pokes at his food with his fork. The cafeteria food is always tasteless and overpriced. The pizza is safe to eat but pizza is only available on Wednesdays and today is not Wednesday. Today is Taco Tuesday. “I used to go for the food but now I’m not too sure.”
Leon takes one look at what Arthur has done to his taco and shakes his head. “Really, Arthur, I’ve been your friend for years. You aren’t fooling anyone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your love for sweets have evolved into your love for Merlin and his terrible coffee.” Leon says to Arthur as if he’s explaining medical terms to a small child. It’s usually something he does well but Arthur still doesn’t understand.
“I’m a creature of habit, Leon. I don’t have time to find a new coffee place.” Arthur pushes the meat back into the taco only for it to fall back out. The hard shell isn’t so hard any more. “Has Morgana put you up to this?”
“Morgana is just trying to save you from all the unnecessary pining.”
Arthur purses his lips. He tells himself he didn’t celebrate yesterday because Merlin would be available for him to date. There’s still Lance, the sometimes-good-baker.
&&&
Gwen’s return to Camelot is shocking. She isn’t at her usual post behind the counter. Instead, she’s sitting at one of the tables, one hand on her stomach, another holding a fork. The piece of pie she’s eating calls to Arthur.
“You’re pregnant,” Arthur says stupidly.
“That’s very observant of you.” Gwen rubs her stomach, straightening out her back. “You’ve met Lance, right, my fiance? He’s gotten worked up so much over my pregnancy. The smell of coffee makes me sick nowadays.”
&&&
The night shift sucks. Interns in the past have never had to deal with night shifts. Uther says it’s for extra practice; Arthur thinks it’s because torturing his only son is amusing. Not even Morgana who’s on call ever gets called in or even assigned the night shift.
The favorite is quite obvious.
Coffee calls to him. It’s nearly ten o’clock and the hospital’s coffee doesn’t do it for him. When the rest of the interns arrive, Arthur gives Leon the signal and slips away. His friend will cover for his absence for a favor in the future. It’s how their friendship works. If he uses a subpar slice of apple pie to butter Leon up later, nobody has to know.
Waiting at the crosswalk nearly kills him. If he thought it would be safe to just fall asleep right against the crosswalk pole without getting pickpocketed he would. Arthur’s that tired. Instead, he tries to blink off the sleep.
A smack into the chest as he’s walking wakes Arthur right up.
“Merlin?”
Merlin, a beanie pulled over his ears, looks at him with a jittery expression. There’s a large coffee cup is in his hand. Instinct tells Arthur that this isn’t Merlin’s first cup. “Sorry about that. I’m late for work.”
Arthur blinks hard again. He looks to the right to see they’re standing right in front of Camelot’s door. “Are you alright?” If he looks closely enough it seems like Merlin is vibrating.
“I’m fine. I’ve been so busy with school lately.” Merlin says, stepping around Arthur to push open the door. Gwaine is behind the counter. He must be upselling lately based upon the empty glass case. “Maybe Gwen should leave Gwaine and Lance in charge all the time.”
Stepping inside, Arthur folds his arm over his chest. Gwaine has tried flirting with him before. His lines are too rehearsed. (Not that he’ll tell Gwaine that so long as he’s the one making his coffee.) “Maybe …”
“That,” Gwaine pipes up, “is a terrible idea. My good looks only work so well. You’re baking is much better than Lance’s, Merlin. Lance doesn’t have your secret ingredient.”
“And he never will.” Merlin agrees, slipping away from Arthur to head into the room labeled EMPLOYEES ONLY.
It’s well timed too because he doesn't see the bewildered look on Arthur’s face.
(Gwaine does.)
&&&
Arthur takes his time to finish his coffee in Camelot which is something he never does. He’s always rushing to keep on schedule. He stays long enough to grab his coffee and he leaves. Watching Merlin at work keeps him from doing that.
He sees Merlin in spurts. The man’s shift must not begin well because he comes back out from the kitchen holding a tray of muffins that he looks absolutely unapproving of. He mutters underneath his breath the whole entire time he puts each muffin in the display case. The second time Merlin comes back out is no better. This time it’s cupcakes. Arthur thinks they don’t look too bad until Merlin starts to place the last row of cupcakes in the case.
The icing is messy and an odd shade of green. As Gwaine flirts with the customers, the case gradually empties. All but the green cupcakes.
Unfortunately, when his break meets the half hour mark, he has to get back to the hospital. If he takes any longer Leon may never do Arthur another favor again. Also at the half hour mark Lance gets kicked out of the kitchen.
“You owe me ten bucks now.” Lance says to Gwaine as he gets a rag to clean the tables.
“I really thought that he’d throw you out as soon as he saw what you’ve done to his kitchen.” Gwaine flips away his bangs. It sells a half dozen chocolate chip cookies to a young girl who doesn’t stand a chance.
Lance just laughs. “Hey, Arthur, if you’re hanging around for dessert, it’s going to be a while. Merlin was apologizing to the oven when he pushed me out. Nothing fresh will hit the case for another hour.”
Arthur straightens his tie and clears his throat. The thought crossed his mind before he realized it would take another hour. “I was just leaving, actually.” Gwaine raises a brow. “Really. I have to get back to the hospital. I’m watching my sweets intake.”
“That’s only because Lance was going to poison you.” Gwaine corrects. “Merlin on the other hand likes a certain blonde bonehead customer too much to risk tainting his baking.”
Arthur pales. Of course there’s another customer. A customer who’s probably more blonde than Arthur, more—
“You’re the blonde bonehead.”
He leaves Camelot satisfied and a little bit insulted, but mostly satisfied.
&&&
“You’re wanted in your father’s office,”
Arthur turns to see Gaius standing at his side. As much as he would love to be lectured by his father on punctuality and the importance of his internship, he has errands to run. Errands that he skipped out on this morning. Leon may be his best friend but according to someone, “best friends don’t do their best friend’s jobs while said best friend is getting coffee alone”.
“I’ll have Gilli take care of your duties.” Gaius says with a wave of the hand, knowing Arthur will come up with an excuse. He doesn’t notice the other intern in question until he’s trying to take the clipboard from Arthur’s hands. “Go now. Don’t keep your father waiting.”
He moves at a snail's pace to the elevator. He’s two floors away from getting the lecture of his life. In sticky situations like this, Morgana is the talker. Whenever they got in trouble as children, it was Morgana who talked them out of that. (It had been partly due to Uther’s unspoken favoritism and Morgana used it well.) Morgana can’t talk him out of this.
Rounding the corner, Arthur misses the brief glimpse of his sister slipping out of Uther’s office. She ducks right behind their father’s secretary’s desk just quick enough for him to not see her.
The heavy wooden door feels ten times heavier than usual.
“Merlin?”
Puzzled, Arthur takes one step inside. The baker is sitting in his father’s chair. He looks small sitting there. It makes Arthur want to hold him.
“Guilty.” Merlin says, raising his hand like a child in class.
The second step inside feels weirder than the first.
“Morgana?” Arthur asks, closing the door behind him. He has a niggling feeling that this is his sister’s work. More specifically, a collaborative work between Morgana and Leon.
“She’s very persuasive.” Merlin admits, though Arthur interprets persuasive for intimidating. If Arthur got a dime for every time someone told him that about his sister, he’d be rich without his father’s money. He’d make a fortune all on his own.
Instead of letting Merlin know that he feels the same, Arthur settles for, “She has that effect on people.”
“Lance told me that you thought his baking was my baking, that’s why you haven’t been getting your sweets at Camelot lately. When Gwen opened up Camelot she hired me to do the baking. I don’t know a thing about being a barista. That’s Lance’s job.” Merlin confesses, wiping his hands on his pants. “You apparently have feelings for the my baking and, hopefully by extension, me.”
Arthur hasn’t felt this nervous since he took his MCAT. It had been the hardest test he had ever taken. Still, he had been able to articulate a response better on the MCAT than he can now.
“That—That does extend to you. It actually extended to you before I knew the baker was you.” Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. Without looking he could tell that he’s beginning to get red. He tries to resist looking at his reflection of the big window behind his father’s desk. It’s hard.
“So … do you want to go on a date? Tomorrow, maybe?” Merlin sinks into the chair as he asks like he fears Arthur saying no.
Arthur says yes.
&&&
Three months later, Merlin teaches Morgana how to make his perfect desserts.
They lock Arthur out of his own apartment when they do so.
(The secret ingredient is love. They don’t tell Arthur because it’s funnier watching Arthur tear apart the kitchen for a hidden ingredient instead.)