Training a bunch of smart kids wasn't as easy as it may sound. Charles and Erik needed a break, Moira knew it, and offered them to come with her to her grandparents' house at the edge of the Highlands for the holiday period. They agreed, and after leaving very detailed instructions to Raven to take care of the mansion during their absence, they drove to the Idlewild Airport where their flight was waiting for them. To Scotland.
The road to Callander twisted and turned through the fields, running along the River Forth. After Stirling, they followed the River Teith to the center of Callander. Moira's grandfather had built his home across the bridge, at the end of a narrow street. The house was rather small, but once inside, they found it very comfortable. The old couple welcomed them warmly and showed them to their rooms. Tomorrow, they would visit the surroundings.
Morning jogs were part of their daily routine, and even with the cold and humid weather, they put on their sweat pants and sneakers, replacing t-shirts with thick pullovers. They ran to Loch Venachar nearby. The calm water of the lake reflected the grey clouds above their heads. A couple of fishermen were waiting on their boats, fishing rods in their hands.
The path at the South shore of the Loch winded through the forest and up the hills. They reached a small pebble beach where they rested for a while, enjoying the beautiful scenery hand in hand, before going back to the house. Although their run had been unusually short, it had been highly satisfying and refreshing. It had whetted their appetite for the hearty breakfast that followed.
Tonight was New Year's Eve's dinner and Moira had promised typical dishes. They couldn't wait.
When Erik entered the room dressed in a perfect dark grey suit, Charles' breath caught in his throat. A glance at Moira's grandmother and at Moira herself showed to Charles that the women weren't immune to Erik's charm. Neither was he. He smiled at him, and Erik winked in his direction while he started a conversation with Moira's grandfather.
After a while, they sat at the table. On everyone's plate there were mashed potatoes and mashed turnips, with a strange ball of meat in the middle.
« What is it, Mrs. Kinross? » Charles asked politely.
« It's called haggis. Try it, Charles! » she replied, and then proceeded to stick her fork in the meat. She cut it roughly, and it was actually filled with mince. Erik and Charles soon followed her example.
Erik brought a forkful of hash to his mouth. The smell was a bit weird, but he ate it nonetheless. Or at least he tried. He may have changed color, because Charles looked at him with a frown, before swallowing some haggis in its turn. The look on his face was priceless. Erik kept from laughing, hidden behind his napkin.
They finished their meal without saying anything, thanking Mrs. Kinross for her cooking.
They were all standing in the living-room now, and had a glass of champagne in their hand. At midnight, they cheered and kissed each other. After Erik's kiss, Charles said: « To the busy year that's behind us, and the equally busy year starting now! »
« And to the beautiful country of Scotland, that I'd love to visit with you again, » Erik added.
« Although no more haggis! »
Erik laughed. « No more haggis. » Erik took Charles' hand and squeezed.