"So let me get this straight," Roderich said. Even though we were talking over the phone and I couldn't see his face, his voice was more than enough to let me know that he was angry. "You invited someone else to come with us on our date."
"Well to be fair—"
"You made our date into a ménage à trios?"
"I don't—"
"You couldn't have asked her to dinner some other night? We were going on a date, Gilbert."
"Were? We still are! Um, right?"
"Let me ask you a question; when you watch romance movies does the gentleman slide up to the maître d' and say 'table for three, please?'"
I didn't bother to answer his snide question. What did I do to deserve this bullshit? For fuck's sake, you'd swear I'd asked if we wanted to have a threesome with Francis the way he's acting. "Roddy, you're being unfair, don't cha think? Here I thought you'd be happy that I was making progress. Dammit, once we know you're out of this predicament we can go on as many dates as we fucking want and not have to worry about decapitation or disembowelment." I didn't mean to get so hot at him. I think I yelled at him because it was my nature to not suffer criticism. I never claimed to have good people skills, all right? Sometimes I feel like I can read people pretty good and then there's just times like this when I feel like I'm feeling my way around a dark room I don't know so well.
Roderich sighed loudly into the phone. After a moment he said, "I suppose you're right. I'm being unreasonable, aren't I?" I remained silent. Maybe I'm just acting a tad silly but I can't shake the feeling that this is some sort of trap. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to answer that. My gamble paid off and Roderich resumed talking. I sank back into my office chair, relieved. Another bullet successfully dodged. "I was just really looking forward to spending a nice evening out with you. To get to know you better."
"I know. But hopefully we can get this over with soon and be done with it."
"Gilbert~Dinner's ready!" Italy yelled from the kitchen. Dammit, dammit, dammit!
"Who's that?" asked Roderich curiously. Damn it all. It's not that I want to lie to anybody about Feliciano staying over it's just that….. sometimes things are easier for all involved if as little information as possible is shared.
"Oh, that's… my brother-in-law," I said. Well, I'm not really lying.
"Oh. Well, if you guys are ready to eat don't let me keep you. I'll see you tomorrow at six then."
"Hey, Roderich," I said, hoping that he hadn't hung up yet.
"What," he asked.
"You're not still mad at me, are you?"
"No, of course not."
"Oh. Ok then. Well, goodbye."
"Goodbye!"
"Goodbye?" Observed Italy, who was leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen, eavesdropping. "Ve~Usually you just curse and hang up the phone. Was that your—"
"Shut up and let's eat dinner."
XxXxX
"When's West getting back again?" I said sourly the next morning as Italy and I ate cereal. Don't get me wrong, the guy could cook but things are getting a bit too cozy around here, I thought as I observed that Italy wasn't wearing any pants. At the breakfast table no less.
"Sunday morning," said Italy. Looking at me sympathetically he said, "I know. I miss him too."
"Well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag, then," I said dryly, picking up my dishes as I got up from my chair.
As I was snagging a beer out of the fridge (ok, yes, I DID refrigerate some of them. So fucking sue me.) the phone began to ring. I grabbed it from its cradle and answered it as I sat down at my desk. "Hello?"
"Ah, Gilbert! Such a beautiful morning, non?" I twisted off the cap with a grimace and took a swig of beer. I was going to need it if I was going to talk to Francis. God love him, but I like him so much more when there's alcohol involved.
"Wouldn't know. Just got up. Me and Feli just got done with breakfast."
"But it's quarter to one."
"Ok, so Feli had lunch and I just got done with breakfast. Technicalities, my friend."
"Sure, whatever you say, Gil," Francis said, chuckling. "So you got the beer, yes? Ah you enjoying it? Is poor Francis forgiven?"
"Yeah, I got it. Drinking one now, in fact."
"Uh, huh. Say, there, Gil. Ah you familiar with ze term 'functional alcoholic?'"
"Fuck you. They drink beer all fucking day in good old Germany. Who am I to question my ancestral tradition?" Like he's one to talk! I bet he brushes his teeth with Pinot Noire like a good old Francophile.
"Uh, huh. Well perhaps instead of drinking all by yourself at one in ze afternoon you would like to go drinking with me zis evening?"
"Can't. I'm busy," I said.
"Doing what?" Demanded Francis. I should lie. Oh, yes I should. But a certain thought just popped into my head. Am I really that much of a bastard to act on it? Psssh. I think we've established by now that by George, I fucking am.
Ok, Francis. I promise, after this I call it even between us.
"Going on a date," I said, my voice bored.
"Ah! With who? What is her name?" Oh, yes. He took the bait. Can someone say hook, line, and sinker?
"Actually," I said, pausing as if I'm deciding if I should confide in him. "It's a dude."
"Oh, ho ho! Ah always did say zat you'd bat for ze other team one day!" Yes, he did. But I got the distinct impression that he always thought it would be with him. As if. "Go on, tell your friend Francis who ze lad is!"
"I don't want to talk about it. You know the person and I don't know how you'll react." Oh, yes. Closer, Francis, closer. You're so close to my little trap.
I wasn't worried. He'd bite. Intrigue was ingrained in his nature. "You have to tell me now!"
"But you'll be mad."
"Ah promise, ah won't!" Somehow, his voice was simultaneously giddy and grave as he made his vow.
"I have a date with Roderich Edelstein tonight."
"Oh," he said flatly, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "You mean a rendez-vous to talk about ze case. Ha. You really had me going zer for a moment."
"No, I mean an actual date. A romantic dinner date."
"Nu-uh!" Francis retorted childishly. "You ah lying to me. Trying to get my goat."
"Nope. I'll even prove it." I called for Italy. He came into the living room looking confused. "Here, tell Francis why you picked out some clothes for me to wear this evening."
"Oh," Italy said brightly, as if he was relieved I'd asked a question he knew the answer to. Picking up the phone he confidently told Francis "I picked Gilbert out an outfit for his date with his boyfriend tonight." Italy paused as Francis said something. "His boyfriend's name? Roderich. Why?" I took that moment to snag the phone back from Italy.
"Still there, Francis," I asked, ignoring his frenzied shouts in my ear. "I'd love to chat, but I can't spend all day on the phone. Not when I have a date to get ready for this evening. Sorry I can't come out to play. Maybe next time, mon ami." I hung up the phone. Another successful dick move by yours truly.
He's probably going to murder me the next time I see him, though. Ah, well, I thought as I drank some more beer, there really was no easy way to break it to him. Me and him are even for the Vargas thing. No, really. I'll quit bitching about it, I promise. But right now, I should get a shower. I just noticed that I kinda smell like a lumberjack.
XxXxX
"Well, I have to admit," I muttered aloud as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, "the boy does have a knack for fashion." When I saw the clothes Italy had laid out for me I just assumed that he'd gone temporarily insane. Or at least temporarily colorblind. There was no mistake that these were the clothes that he had picked out. They were laid neatly over my bed with a little note that said, 'Wear these tonight. Don't forget to complement Roderich on how he looks. Promise me I can meet him soon? Love, Feli.' Italy was out running some errands.
I'm sure you're going to want to know about the outfit. Yeah, whatever. So picture this; grey slacks and a white shirt. Not too memorable, right? Well, Italy also set out the red bowtie that he bought me for last Christmas. Of course I'd never worn the thing. I'm just glad it was one of those fake ones that you just have to buckle around your neck. I can hardly tie a tie let alone a freakin' bowtie. To top it all off, a navy blazer. Sounds like too many colors and shit, right? I'm telling you, it actually looks damned good. It seems rather me, if you know what I'm saying. Pffft. Like I could ever pull together an outfit like this all by myself.
Listen now, don't down on me for my total disregard for fashion. When the man upstairs was giving out life skills I picked bear wrestling over color coordination. It's much more practical.
I gathered up my wallet and keys and prepared to leave. Really, I have butterflies in my stomach? What am I, a twelve year old girl? This is ridiculous. I slammed the door to show the whole apartment building that I am a man and strutted down the stairs. I got this. Really, I do.
XxXxX
Walking up Roderich's front path, I felt a moment of panic. Was I supposed to get him flowers or something? I have no fucking idea. I mean, it's only a first date. Or is it on the first date that you're supposed to bring the flowers? Why bring flowers at all? Why do people even do that? I mean, you're basically giving someone a handful of dead plant genitalia. Who approved of this? Who's the first idiot that walked up to his sweetheart's hut, thought belatedly I should have got her something, looked frantically around, then finally decided to uproot some unsuspecting foliage as a peace offering? Am I the only one who sees how fucking ridiculous this is or am I just over thinking this and hyperventilating into Roderich's bushes?
Not even thinking straight, I grabbed a handful of daisies out of the flowerbeds surrounding the house. They were pink. Great, I thought sarcastically as I rung the bell, just fucking great. Welp, it's too late to chuck 'em so Roderich is just going to have to like them.
And hopefully not recognize them from his flowerbeds. I'm such a fucking spaz.
I dried my palms on my pants and waited. Finally, the door opened and Roderich was standing there. I practically shoved the flowers into his chest. Why am I acting like such a spaz, seriously, chill the fuck out.
"Are these from my flowerbeds?" Roderich asked with a bemused expression as he observed that most of the daisies had strings of root attached to them.
"Ye-eah," I admitted, guiltily I might add. Roderich looked at me with some annoyance for a moment before his knitted eyebrows trembled and he burst out into gentle laughter.
"I know I should be annoyed that you're tearing up my flowerbeds but… who does that kind of thing? I have a feeling that you're the unpredictable sort." He broke out into another bit of laughter before pushing his glasses up his nose and saying, "I'll be back in a moment. I'm going to put these daisies in a jar of water."
Ah, er, that could have gone worse, I suppose.
XxXxX
"You look nice tonight," I commented as we entered the restaurant. Roderich smiled and said thanks. Ok. I'm out of Italy's dating advice. I'm totally on my own.
"Reservation under Beilschmidt," I said to the maître d'. "Ah, yes," he replied as he checked his little book. "Beilschmidt, table for three." I could feel Roderich's disapproval before I turned around sheepishly and saw it for myself. Hey, I thought he said he wasn't still mad about that.
We didn't speak until we were sitting at a tidy little table. I had already explained to Roderich on the way over that we were going to have to act like we had been dating for awhile and work to charm Natalia. Roderich was cutting open a roll and buttering it. His mouth was still set in that fine line. It was just slightly different from his usual brand of bi—I mean snobbery. I couldn't tell if he was just nervous or pissy.
"I'm nervous," I said suddenly.
"Me too," Roderich confessed, setting down his overly buttered roll down on its plate. Ok, I'm relieved.
We made small talk while we waited for Natalia. Stupid stuff—how about that weather? Yes, it's been rather dry lately. Perhaps we'll get some rain soon? No, the weatherman said it's going to be totally dry this week. You'll have to water your flowers in front. Yes, as long as someone doesn't pull them all up, that is.
Finally, the waiter brought Natalia to our table. We both stood up and I clasped Natalia's hand. "Natalia, so glad you made it. This is Roderich," I said, nodding over to him. He shook Natalia's hand as well and they made their pleasantries. I didn't have to worry about Roderich. He was bred for situations like this.
Natalia shook Roderich's hand, eyes flicking up and down, sizing him up. Her gaze was measuring, calculating for a second before she softened a little and released his hand. I helped Natalia into her seat like a spiffy gentleman and took my own seat. Presently, the waiter came to the table showing a bottle of wine. "Will this please the party for tonight?"
Roderich took one glance at the bottle and said, "Certainly not. Take it away and bring us a good wine. A Spanish Rioja, perhaps? I trust you can find us a good year?"
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir," said the waiter, bowing before walking away.
"Quite the wine connoisseur, are you?" asked Natalia, clearly impressed by Roderich's smooth orders. Makes sense, though. Roddy's a snob at heart. Why wouldn't he bully the wait staff over bad wine?
"Yes, I'm afraid I picked that bad habit up from my mother," he replied jokingly while he shook out his napkin. He and Natalia laughed together while I sat back, a little lost. The waiter returned and showed the bottle to Roderich. "Yes, that's more like it. Here, Natalia, you simply must try it. This is a fantastic year." After the wine was poured and our orders were placed the waiter walked away. Natalia and Roderich picked up their wine glasses and I followed suit belatedly. I tried to imitate Roderich. He was cradling his hand around the bottom of the glass, the stem hanging in between his middle and ring fingers. He gently swirled the contents of the glass before lifting it up to—smell the bouquet? Isn't that what they call it?
Roderich and Natalia made comments about the bouquet and the body. I assumed they were still talking about the wine. I fucking hate wine. It smells ok but it tastes bad. This 'full-bodied Rioja with a nice, velvety backbone and a pleasing finish,' as Roderich commented offhand, was definitely wasted on me. Pour me a good beer. I find the taste of hops soothing. I simply made encouraging noises to vacantly voice my concurrence whenever the other two said something intelligent about the wine.
They chattered about wine for a few minutes more before our table lapsed into silence. Finally, Natalia spoke. "So, to get down to business, I spoke with my sister Kat last night. She explained a good deal about your situation. I have to say, this is difficult. It seems like someone here has been rather naughty." She lifted a finger from her wine glass to wag at Roderich as she spoke. Roderich ducked his head and had the decency to look ashamed of himself.
"I know, Natalia. Believe me, I don't approve of what he did either but everyone makes mistakes," I cut in. "Mind you, this happened before I knew Roderich but I don't believe he meant things to happen as they did. He's under a great deal of pressure and scrutiny under the spotlight and he slipped up. He's a good guy, really," I patted his arm gently to punctuate my point. Seeing Natalia's gaze linger on me touching him, I left my hand upon his arm.
"So how long have you two been going out?" Natalia asked.
"Four months," I said brightly. "Almost five I believe, right Roderich?"
"Your math is a bit off," Roderich said. "We're well over five months. Of course I don't expect him to remember anything as unimportant as our first date," he said, leaning in conspiratorially towards Natalia. "You know how men are," he said in a low, teasing voice.
Natalia laughed brightly. "Yes, I know what you mean. They are awfully forgetful, aren't they? And so often they just don't understand what they want," she finished, looking moodily. Somehow, I feel like she wasn't speaking of men in general but of one man in particular. I can't even bring myself to have sympathy for Ivan.
The waiter returned to refill our water glasses while another waiter placed our food on the table. "Check to see that your steak is done how you like it. Don't be afraid to speak up, dear," Roderich commented to Natalia. "Oh, look at these scalloped potatoes. They look delicious."
"My brother Ivan," Natalia began after we had sat in silence for several minutes enjoying our food, "Can get jealous over the silliest things. He's quite fond of Kat," Natalia said, her voice getting a little terse, "although I'm not quite sure why." Oh, yes, she's jealous all right.
"He was upset because he thought that you were going to steal away Kat's attention," Natalia continued, looking towards Roderich. "But he's a grown man now and he cannot continue to act childishly. I blame Kat a little; she always did coddle him. Still, Ivan acted without my permission in this matter. I give the orders around here and he could do well to remember that," she finished darkly. Uh, oh. Looks like Ivan's in trouble! "Forget about the blackmail. I'll give you a pass this time. It seems like I have some housekeeping to attend to at home. I refuse to spend any more time on this silly matter. Consider us in good terms, Roderich. But in the future it's up to you to keep in our good terms."
"Yes, m'am," Roderich said humbly. I'll be sure to do that. "Thank you."
Two points to team Beilschmidt. Am I good or am I fucking good? I couldn't even resist giving Roderich a fierce congratulatory kiss. I heard Natalia sigh in approval. When I pulled away Roderich was flushed and even stuttered when asking the waiter for the bill.
Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when he comes undone?
XxXxX
"So," Roderich said.
"So," I replied, smiling. We were standing by my car in the parking lot. I wanted to give a victory whoop but somehow I think the patrons lined up outside of the restaurant would disapprove. "So that's it then," Roderich said, no longer trying to restrain a huge grin. He gave in and chuckled lightly. "It's really over then," he said with some wonder.
"Looks that way," I replied. Hopefully, hopefully that's it. I want to believe that it's all over but I just don't feel like we should throw our celebratory party just yet. To be honest, I was worried about Ivan. The thing about crazy is that you can't predict it. I may never see him again or he might show up at my doorstep tomorrow, Kalashnikov in hand. Really, though, I wasn't overly worried about it. I have a feeling that he's going to be quite busy with Natalia for awhile. She seemed like a sister on a mission.
"Now for the easy part," I told Roderich. "I just have to 'find' your piano and make it convincing. Then you withdraw the police report and the insurance claim. You'll be out of trouble and I damn well expect you to keep out of trouble," I said, severely. "Unless I'm involved, that is," I finished, wryly.
Roderich's smile dimmed just a little and he nodded. "Yes, yes, I do believe I've learned my lesson. I'm just glad that I could learn it without getting burned."
"Do you want to go get coffee with me," I said suddenly. "Since I botched our first date let's go straight on to date one and a half."
"Sure. I'd like that," Roderich said, smile returning as we got into the car.
XxXxX
[A/N Yeah, yeah. A little late again this week but I was still playing catch up from last week's disastrous delay.
Anywhooo…. I'm rather mad at myself because I'm starting to see things I should have done differently. Argh. I just feel like kicking myself in the face DX But then I just calm down and remember that this is all just for fun. Yeah, haha, fun. Right. XD XD XD
Reviews are appreciated.]
