Pike's standards for food had gone way down since his time in hell. Since the demons controlled most of the food supply, at least in Compton where he spent most of his time, he'd been forced to dumpster dive far more frequently than he would have liked. That was before his capture, of course. So these days, if it was edible and not already half-rotten? It was good just the way it was.
Bella wasn't wrong. Normal people didn't, and even before hell, Pike wasn't really normal. Back in the day, when he was leaving Vegas, he thought he'd be able to have a nice, normal life. But every time he heard about something weird and unexplainable happening, he would question. Once his eyes had been opened, he'd found it impossible to close them again. And he'd never been one to just ignore it when people were getting hurt. So in the end, he'd given up on the idea of a normal life and returned to the way of the monster hunter. It wasn't normal. In fact, he was pretty sure he was certifiably nuts, to go after the same things as a Slayer did. But he'd survived. It was sort of his thing, survival. Seemed like no matter what hijinx he got into, he always survived...even if, in the case of hell, he hadn't really wanted to.
He forked up some pasta and ate it, giving Bella an appreciative look as he swallowed. This wasn't just edible, it was actually pretty good. "Yeah," he responded, nodding a little. "I get that." For him, he was laying low and mostly cooperating to avoid painting a target on Dawn's head. He didn't so much care about a target being painted on his. He'd had plenty of them there before, and these days he didn't really care what happened to him, but he wasn't prepared to risk Dawn's life for anything. "Been out at all? Scenery really isn't bad." And he should know, given that he'd slept in it.