by Crook, Amy
She snorted. “The way you’ve been yanking his chain? It’s a wonder he was willing to loan you his couch,” she teased.
Alex got the tea steeping and on its trivet, then got out cups and the like out for both of them. “I forget, how do you take actual tea?” he asked teasingly, getting the sugar and milk out before finally taking his seat.
“You don’t forget any such thing,” she teased, “you just don’t like to think of taking it black.”
He made a face. “I suppose that’s true,” said Alex, though in actuality they had coffee so often that he’d let it slip his mind.
They spent a few minutes negotiating who got which cupcake, and soon enough they’d settled into a comfortable silence punctuated mostly by the eating of said cupcakes. It wasn’t until he’d had two and started on a third that she broke the silence.
“Are you really all right?” asked Lapointe, letting the worry show on her face.
Alex felt something warm in his chest, a somewhat unfamiliar feeling of being genuinely cared for by a friend. “I am, as far as I can tell. I might go to a temple over the weekend and get a proper purification, but I’m not sure my tender skin could stand it.”
She chuckled. “I never thought of you as religious,” she said, taking a sip of tea.
“Not that sort of temple, really. It’s more that the purification frees the body and mind from the influences of the outside world, including outside magic,” said Alex. “It’s all very virtuous, though.”
Lapointe gave him an amused look. “I can see why you’re not interested, then, I heard you nearly swept that new doctor off his feet.”
“Hey, he’s the one who got me naked,” protested Alex, but it was a weak protest.
She laughed, and he took that as his cue to finish his third cupcake. She waited until he was licking frosting from his fingers and demanded, “Now, you have to tell me how last night went.”
Alex sighed, but did as he was told. After all, she had brought cupcakes.
~ ~ ~
Alex spent the next day replacing the ruined keys, an annoyingly involved process that required he stay home for the magical locksmith. He couldn’t even re-make his keychain, for fear of missing the man while he was busy in the lab.
As a result, Alex was very cranky when he went in to the department the day after, defiantly clad in his usual black. His one concession to making peace was that he came bearing some coffee worth drinking, and a box of what he knew were Murielle’s secret vice — French macarons. Lapointe wasn’t in her office, however, so he headed to the other place he usually found her, next to the coffee pot.
“The phrase ‘creamy mounds’ does come to mind, but that’s all I’ll say about it,” Geoff was saying as Alex walked into the break room.
“But he doesn’t have tits,” said one of the other agents, looking comically confused.
Alex had a moment of wanting to be angry, but Geoff’s eyes met his and they both cracked up laughing. Alex knew he should be affronted that Geoff was talking about the incident like it was gossip, but somehow he couldn’t be too angry with such a complimentary attitude.
“He wasn’t looking at my front,” said Alex with a smirk, turning to hand Lapointe her coffee and feeling all eyes on his rear, hidden though it was by his long coat.
“Oi, that’s not sporting!” said the agent who’d been confused earlier. “I’ll never get that image out of my head now.”
Geoff laughed. “I know I won’t,” he said, though he didn’t sound at all displeased at the prospect.
Alex just looked smug. “Just remember, it’s look but don’t touch,” he said, deliberately addressing the poor agent, though he sent a wink in Geoff’s direction.
They all laughed at that, as they were meant to, and Alex was feeling much cheered as Lapointe led him away from the small group. “You took that better than I expected,” she said, after her door was shut.
Alex shrugged. “Geoff said just enough to satisfy them, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be saying any more.”
“Yes, they’re all very sad that he won’t confirm the rumours that you’ve got a python in your pants and that’s what makes you such an arrogant bastard,” she said, leaning on the edge of her desk and sipping the coffee. “Mmm, you do bribe me well for putting up with you.”
Alex grinned. “I have more,” he said, pulling the box of macarons out of one of his voluminous coat pockets. “Your favourite.”
“They had the rose geranium ones?” she asked, already grabbing the box. She opened it and inhaled the sweet, flowery fragrance, then plucked one out and bit it in half with a sigh of pure culinary joy.
Alex chuckled. “I don’t know how you can stand those things, they taste like those little carved soaps old ladies put in their bathrooms,” he said, pulling a box of simple vanilla almond ones out of his other pocket for himself.
She laughed. “Men,” was all she said, before blissfully consuming the other half. After a few moments of happy chewing and another sigh, she gave him a considering look and asked, “All right, what are you bribing me for?”
Alex gave her his very best puppy-dog eyes and said, “I need help with gifts.”
“Gifts,” she said dubiously, but she didn’t refuse him right off. “As in, for this Courtship?”
Alex nodded. “All the other men are very big money high society, and their gifts will be the same, stuff that’s trying to impress him with how very impeccable their taste is and how very expensive the stuff was,” he explained, “and I was hoping you could help me find something that’s more, I dunno, that’s got personality.”
She chuckled and sipped her coffee. “I want another box of these at least, and you have to tell me about all your dates,” she said, but he could tell she was enjoying the idea of it.
“Done!” he said, relaxing enough to eat one of his own macarons, enjoying the sticky-fluffy texture and light, creamy filling almost as much as she did. At least, the ones that didn’t taste like flowers.
They stayed hidden in her office long enough for three cookies apiece, and then both boxes went back into Alex’s big overcoat as they headed out, not to the glittering uptown shops he’d gone to with his family but to a quaint little artsy district full of handmade boutiques, galleries, and antique shops. There was even a frilly, doily-covered tea shop that served a high tea with all the cliches. Alex couldn’t decide if Lapointe would love it or hate it there, so he refrained from commenting; she could surprise him with the places her tough cop exterior cracked to show her secret girly side.
“So, what do you know about this guy so far?” asked Lapointe as they found a place to park near one end of the little district.
Alex sat back for a moment and tried to think. “Well, I know he likes to be outdoors, to help in the orchards and pick mushrooms. So, I guess trees, specifically,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out when she did.
She made sure everything was locked and they started down the first side of the street, sauntering and looking in windows but not stopping anywhere just yet. “Well, hiking and camping stuff are pretty much out, right?”
Alex chuckled. “People of his station generally consider a night in a hotel with no spa to be roughing it,” he said, though that wasn’t precisely true. Still, he didn’t think that Julian had any ‘man of adventure’ type ambitions, his love seemed to be more for the land he lived on than the idea of nights spent out in the forest.
“Wouldn’t that be your station, too?” she pointed out wryly.
“And you wouldn’t catch me camping for the world,” he assured her, pausing to look into one of the little galleries. Instead of huge wall pieces — which would be totally inappropriate unless he could manage to both discover and acquire some favourite piece of Julian’s by an old master, and then justify spending his entire inheritance on one gift — there were dozens of tiny paintings, each on their own wooden easel.
“You could almost carry one around in your pocket,” said Lapoint
e, pointing to a stretched canvas only a few inches square, painted with a scene of cheerful wildflowers with fat bees buzzing around them.
Alex grinned. “Let’s look inside,” he said, an idea forming in his head.
Inside the gallery, long shelves at eye level showcased dozens of the miniature works of art, with subjects ranging from sea life to more flowers, landscapes to fruit. Alex found one that showed a cluster of edible mushrooms at the base of a tree, and another of a ripening apple still up on its branch, the surrounding leaves a blur of paint smudges as though they were moving in some invisible wind.
“This one’s got a bit of you in it, doesn’t it?” said Lapointe, just when Alex was starting to despair for a third.
When he saw the painting he laughed, and knew he’d come to the right place. A black cat was curled up, glaring balefully out at the viewer while a small blue butterfly sat peacefully right in the middle of his forehead.
Fortunately this gallery expected to sell pieces to people who wanted to take them home immediately, and soon enough the three paintings were attractively gift-wrapped and Alex was a few hundred pounds poorer.
“Not making your brother pick up the bill?” asked Lapointe, when they’d made it back out to the street.
Alex shrugged. “It seems gauche to have him pay for things I can readily afford,” he said, unable to explain the urge he’d had to be sure that these, like the heart’s ease potion, came from him rather than his family name.
“Only you would use ‘gauche’ so naturally in a sentence,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s go in here?”
They were in front of the horrible tea shop, and Alex sighed. “Only if you promise it’s not just to torment me.”
She laughed. “It’s not, I need a new tea cosy, mine’s a disgrace.”
Alex sighed again, but he opened the door for her like a proper gentleman anyway.
~ ~ ~
They didn’t find anything else that afternoon, and she made him eat lunch at the tea shop, but it was worth it all the same. When he got home, Alex snuck another look at the three small, homey little paintings and he just knew that Julian would appreciate them.
He was just hiding the bag away on top of his wardrobe when he heard the door open. He was really going to have to redo those wards.
“So which one of you…” Alex began, then stopped to stare at his very unexpected visitor.
Julian shifted and blushed. “It was unlocked,” he said defensively.
“You’re welcome, of course, I just didn’t expect you,” said Alex, glancing around to be sure his flat was in order, though he’d been keeping things neater than usual in case of family. “Please, have a seat, I’ll make some tea. I have some macarons left, too, I think,” he said, grabbing the box out of his coat — Lapointe had of course taken hers home with her, but even Alex couldn’t generally manage a full dozen of the rich treats at once.
“Oh, thank you,” said Julian, taking a seat gingerly in Alex’s living room as though he was worried he’d be kicked out at any moment. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but after I heard about yesterday I just couldn’t wait.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” said Alex. He busied himself making up a tray with all the proper accessories while the water boiled, trying to remember if there was anything important missing. He had the cups and saucers, spoons and sugar and creamer, napkins and even a little strainer for the tea leaves. He added the plate of cookies, and there was just enough room left for the teapot, which he filled just as soon as the kettle boiled.
Julian was smiling when Alex brought the tray over and set it on his coffee table. “I’m glad, I was worried, well, when I heard…”
“Just what did you hear?” asked Alex, feeling self-conscious in his well-worn, comfortable clothing, no match at all to Julian’s impeccable style.
“I heard you were naked with that doctor!” blurted Julian, and then he blushed.
“Julian,” said Alex, getting a sense of deja vu at the vehemence of Julian’s jealousy, “was I the first eligible man you saw after Cecil’s death?”
Julian laughed bitterly. “I don’t know, Godfrey’s probably still single.”
“I don’t think he counts,” said Alex with a chuckle, “unless you’ve been harbouring a secret crush.”
Julian shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that.”
“Well, I assure you that Dr. Tamlinson took no liberties,” said Alex. He pulled out his watch fob and idly toyed with it, trying to hear that familiar buzzing in Julian without the risk of letting it back into himself. “But I’m worried, because the item that knocked me out and tried to contaminate my mind with its spell was something from Cecil’s desk.”
Julian shook his head harder this time, denial written on his face “No, that’s impossible! Cecil would never!”
“I don’t think he did,” assured Alex. “I think it was a gift, intended to help keep him in love with you, though I can’t for the life of me think why.”
Julian blinked. “Then… He never loved me?” he asked, voice small and sad and Alex cursed his own social ineptitude.
“Of course he loved you,” said Alex, “that’s why I don’t understand the spell, it’s like it took what’s there and made it stronger, faster than it would have been naturally.” Alex deemed the tea ready and poured them both cups, using the strainer since he had no intention of reading anyone’s tea leaves today, with so much magical interference in the room. “How do you take it?” he asked.
Julian blushed bright red, which made Alex blush and add, “Your tea.”
That got a wan laugh. “Just a bit of milk, please,” said Julian, then accepting the cup with thanks. “Sorry, I guess my mind’s just in the gutter today.”
Alex could very much sympathise. “Is there anything you got as a gift right around the time you met Cecil?” he asked, hoping Julian would understand the reason for his prying, or at least answer him truthfully.
“It was right after my birthday,” said Julian with a sigh, “so I had a ton of gifts, you know, I’d just come of age and my parents threw a big party with a bunch of strangers and schoolmates I didn’t really know, it was all absurd, but I got some great stuff out of it.”
“The perfect time to hide something carrying an enchantment it’s not supposed to have,” said Alex glumly.
“Do you think you’ll find whatever it is?” asked Julian, worriedly toying with his teacup. “Will I stop… Will I feel differently when it’s gone?”
Alex cocked his head. “I think you’ll feel what you would normally have felt,” he said, “but I’m not really sure. It’s not my area of expertise by any means, compulsion spells are actually pretty uncommon.”
“Why?” asked Julian, taking a sip of tea and making a little moue that showed he, too, disapproved of Alex’s pedestrian tastes.
Alex snagged a macaron and nibbled delicately at it while he tried to think of how to explain. “It’s a little bit like karma, I guess,” he said, “and the rule of threefold, except it doesn’t really come back to you in such a straightforward way as all that. It’s more that doing really evil magic like that opens you up to other things, bad things, that most mages wouldn’t want to risk.”
“I guess I was… am a good enough prize to be worth the risk,” said Julian, sounding quite depressed indeed.
“Shouldn’t that be a compliment?” said Alex, cocking his head and giving Julian a teasing wink.
Julian laughed, but it was a little bit forced. “I’m having a hard time looking at it that way,” he said with a sigh.
“Will it help if I swear to you on my own magic that I have not bespelled any of my gifts to you, except to help you?” said Alex, very serious now.
Julian looked at him and asked, “You’d do that?”
“I would,” said Alex, “and I’ll even give you an early present that I think will help.” He stood up and took the box down from the bookshelf where he’d hidden it, passing it to Julian.
Ju
lian opened it up and read the card inside, and his eyes took on a suspicious shine. “You made this for me?” he asked, voice tight.
Alex nodded. “I still remember you as the heartbroken boy in his lover’s chambers, trying to find sense in a world full of loss,” he said, giving one of Julian’s hands a squeeze. “I know you have to be more than that, now, but I also know that boy’s still in you.”
Julian picked up the little phial, watching the potion swirl inside like jade clouds. “Should I take it now?” he asked.
“You should take it tonight before bed,” said Alex, closing the phial back into its case. “It’ll do you the most good if you can sleep under its effects.”
“Thank you,” said Julian, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss over Alex’s cheek. This one warmed him to his toes, because it conveyed no status at all beyond his status in Julian’s affections.
Alex smiled softly. “You’re welcome. I just wish it wasn’t needed.”
There didn’t seem much to say after that, and soon enough Julian had taken his leave, and Alex decided that maybe today was the sort of day he could finish a dozen macarons on his own after all.
CHAPTER 11
In Which We Have Tea, Followed by a Murder
The next few days were much less eventful. Alex received and accepted his formal invitation to tea with Julian, the enclosed personal note assuring him it would be a picnic in the orchard, just as he’d suggested, and thanking him for the early gift. It seemed less awkward than the previous notes, or perhaps Alex was just getting used to Julian’s writing style.
Alex picked up the suit, fully tailored, and hoped he really did look fashionable and not like a purple git. He didn’t dare show up at the Agency to ask Lapointe for her opinion; men there rarely wore anything brighter than navy or charcoal with their crisp white shirts, and he could only imagine the comments.
There were no less than four separate calls from his family the day of his first proper date, all with advice that ranged from insulting to absurd. He dressed carefully, amused that he’d even been provided with matching boxers and socks. He felt awkward arriving without a gift, so he had Victor’s driver stop at the bakery for a bow-bedecked box of sweets. He also picked up another box of Lapointe’s macaroons, figuring he could use them to lure her away from her office after tea.