Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before…
Written By Commius Rex
I own nothing, I earn even less. Playing with the characters makes me happy.
The door opens, and the figure behind the counter looks round, irritated. It's already dark out and the shop is otherwise deserted.
New arrival and shopkeeper stare at each other for a long moment.
"You moved. Took me a while to track you down."
"It has been rather a long time." Shopkeeper almost smiles, corners of his mouth turning up just a little. "The rent on the old property had become fairly steep." Just the slightest trace of an accent, Continental. Would almost be imperceptible if he didn't speak English better than the natives.
"Like what you've done with the place."
Shopkeeper glides out from behind the counter. Old-fashioned three-piece suit seems incongruous when his greying dark hair sweeps his shoulders. Not particularly tall, but the new arrival still has to look up slightly as he approaches and grips his hand in a tight, cold shake.
Shopkeeper's deep, dark, old eyes meet piercing blue gaze and hold. The visitor breaks first, looks down and away.
"Well." Shopkeeper looks amused now, "That is an interesting development. How on earth did that happen?"
"My own stupid bloody fault." But he doesn't sound bitter. "For a lady."
"Ah." The newcomer is favoured with an indulgent smile. "You always were a fool for love."
His visitor responds with a rueful grin, shakes head, and says nothing.
"Mention of foolish things," Shopkeeper's grinning broadly now, seems almost like he has too many teeth, "brings to my attention your rather unpleasant looking hairstyle."
"Oi! Watch it…" They both laugh, but only briefly.
"You've not returned to London in a very long while, dear boy. What precipitates your sojourn?"
"If you're going to be talking that poncey, I'm going to be needing a stiff drink."
Toothy grin from the Shopkeeper again. "Oh, I know a place that will suit you perfectly."
They leave the darkened shop behind them; streetlight just bright enough to make out, murkily, the sign that reads 'De Graaf's. Est. 1789' and set off down the street together, long leather coat billowing behind the shorter figure.
So, two vampires walk into a pub…