The term of endearment made her wrinkle her nose a little as soon as his back had turned. A little familiar, wasn't it? They'd only spoken once before, but she had to admit -- it was worlds better than ma petite, which she had never found herself able to get used to. No matter how many times she insisted Jean-Claude call her something else, anything else, it turned out to be worse when he actually used her name. That always meant he was pissed. Nobody wanted a pissed off master vampire on their hands.

Curious, she headed over towards the counter where he was working, arms folded. "I'll see what I can do. It won't cut?"

Huh. Interesting.

"Wonder how tough it has to be to stop a knife. Most fruit cuts clean. Here." She unceremoniously reached inside her jacket and pulled one of her knives from her wrist sheath. Okay, this wasn't what it was made for, but it had to be better than any of the crap that had been stowed away in this kitchen, given how neglected everything had seemed when they first arrived. "This will probably do it. Let me try?"