Prompt: Bakery AU. Written for The Witcher Rarepair Summer Bingo.
"He did it again."
Geralt pulled his apron over his head, barely pausing to untangle his braid from the strap before he threw it onto the nearby hook and continued his march to the hallway between the break room and the kitchen.
Eskel and Ciri paused in their cleaning jobs — Ciri neatly stepping back to avoid the growing pool of water from the mop — and both glanced towards the front of the small cafe. The cases, void of the usual piled baked goods and delicacies, shone orange in the light from the glowing streetlights, the smears from the cleaning solution clear. Beyond them, the doors stood closed and locked amidst the forest of raised upturned chairs.
"What's going on?" Ciri said, tugging on the edges of her sleeves, her voice tight.
"It's just Geralt being dramatic over his latest crush," Eskel said, casting his eyes skywards in a matching dramatic fashion. "Go ask him. I'm sure he'd love a new person to throw theories about Regis around with."
"Not theories," Geralt called back. The faint squeak of whiteboard pen followed his words, and Ciri abandoned her mop, jumping over the small pool of water and following him.
She found her adopted father frowning at a whiteboard set up above her eye-line. Ciri had seen it before, taken in the careful print of Geralt's handwriting as he listed menu items and their ingredients and dismissed it as just another aspect of the management of the bakery. 'Kaer More-Bread' was barely stumbling by some days, but they all made it work.
"So?"
Geralt paused before continuing his writing. It was one of their newer items, a mango panna cotta next to its scant list of ingredients.
"Every time he comes here, he orders something different, but the process to get to ordering is…" Geralt's mouth twisted, his amber eyes glowing with the thrill of a new mystery. "Interesting.
"He never asks whether an item contains an ingredient, always what is in each bake. It makes things more complicated, but the challenge is appreciated."
Ciri snorted, memories of the half-completed and then abandoned projects that followed their small family around like ducklings flooding her mind. Geralt laughed, tapping her nose once in teasing admonishment, the action bringing with it the bitter scent of rosemary.
"And who is this mysterious 'him' that's got you so enthralled?"
"What's happening?" Lambert asked, stumbling out of the office, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion and a coffee cup clutched in his hand. Keeping up the accounts was a weekly chore, now that Vesemir had retired. They all took turns in performing and this week was Lambert's turn.
"Geralt's fancy man turned up again!" Eskel called, safe behind one of the cooling racks.
"Just go and sit outside the man's window like a respectable stalker," Lambert scoffed, tipping his head back to drain the dregs, dancing back to avoid Geralt's swipe. "Any closer to figuring it out?"
"Opposed to your theory that the man is a vampire? No."
Ciri caught Lambert's eye and frowned up at him.
"I'll explain on the drive home. Geralt, keys."
Geralt threw them over, his eyes never leaving the list of ingredients as he studied them, searching for the hidden connection.
⁂
Geralt paused in taking the order, one hand hovering over the mechanical buttons of the till as he used the other to brace himself against the counter. The ache that radiated down his leg faded away into the background as he studied the man in front of him.
Something was different about Regis.
The man's normally pale skin was flushed, but it was an unhealthy pallor against his dark clothing. The edges of his eyes were red, and every blink was careful and deliberate, the corners of his mouth tensing as if against waves of pain. He had stumbled over his words when he asked for the ingredients, his brow furrowed as he fought to focus.
"Are you okay, Regis?"
Regis sighed, a deep bone-weary sound, and tried to grin, his teeth slightly curved like fangs. He tipped his head to check behind him, the shop standing quiet and empty, before turning back to Geralt.
"I've been better. It is feeling like soon I will only be able to buy my food from the local grocers and this bakery." Regis' mouth twisted in annoyance before he settled back into polite professionalism.
"Because of your mysterious way of ordering?"
"It has a purpose. I have had too many meals or drinks ruined by someone not taking an allergy seriously, so I had to get creative to protect myself. Run the gauntlet between accidental exposure and someone not taking me seriously."
Geralt nodded slowly, a bright ember of rage burning in the pit of his stomach on Regis' behalf. His thoughts circled like starving wolves around the list of ingredients hanging in the corridor. He had the answer, he just had to find it.
"Citrus?"
Regis' eyes widened before he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes it is. Very perceptive of you."
Geralt thanked every god he could name that Eskel and Ciri were likely restraining Lambert in the back office to let him have this uninterrupted moment. "You are a compelling mystery."
"Oh?" Regis leant closer, a spark in his eyes. "Now I'm intrigued."
Geralt swallowed, feeling the earth seem to slow around him. The air was warm, and the scent of freshly baked bread, which normally faded into the background, was noticeable and comforting.
"I finish in half an hour if you're free to grab a drink? If not, it won't affect anything, I just—"
"I'd be honoured. Given my… situation, I have to be fairly selective over where I go, and I don't drink coffee, but there is a lovely bar-cafe fusion round the corner?"
"Cat's Palace? Lambert's sleeping with the owner, so we get discounts."
Regis' grin only widened, revealing more of his fanged smile. "This day is looking better and better by the second."