When Reinhardt goes to the dojo that evening he is glad to see that Brigitte is waiting for him, chin up and gaze steady. Whatever had been troubling her the last few nights (Hmm, as if you didn't know exactly what that was about Amari laughs) has vanished, returning to him the bold squire he knows so well.
He goes to meet her eagerly, and they bow to each other. The stakes of tonight's session are high, and he hopes to secure the victory. He can almost taste the currywurst now-
Brigitte strikes out suddenly, catching him off-guard. He absorbs the blow with his forearm pad, grunting. She continues the attack, lashing out at his forward leg and he avoids the hit. When she gets close enough for him to attempt a takedown, he reaches for her but she dances free of his grasp.
She must be feeling very confident tonight.
This confidence will be her undoing. As she evades his strikes, he changes the angle of his attacks, trying to catch her off guard. It works. When he feints a jab with his right hand, she bobs away from it and into his strike at her left side. She trips, landing on her knees on the mat. The knight lunges after her, preparing to take her to the floor when she grabs for him at the waist, pulling him into her. Reinhardt is not expecting it, nor is he expecting the throw when she rolls onto her back and plants her tucked feet into his stomach, using his momentum to vault him over her.
Then, she has him.
Quick as a snake she pivots toward him, one leg hooking around his throat and locking behind the knee of the other leg that is thrown over his chest. She squeezes lightly, and he can feel pressure on his neck, threatening to cut off his circulation. A head scissor lock, amazing! He has never even attempted it! He tries to throw the leg on his chest off, but each movement only tightens her hold. He recognizes defeat when her thighs squeeze together, tight enough to make him lightheaded.
He submits.
Instantly she releases him, jumping to her feet. She reaches down to help him up, a triumphant grin on her face. He accepts the hand, and though he is tempted to pull her down into him and put her into an unexpected headlock, he doesn't. He is more honorable than that.
He can't help but grumble mentally at the thought that there will be a lot more visits to Bäckerei-Bar in his future.
They continue to spar for the remaining hour, and though he wins several rounds he can see the glow of victory in his squire's face at each turn. He is glad to see it; the loss is worth that smile.
Once they've cleaned, they have scarcely set foot out of the dojo when Brigitte accosts him.
"Soooo," She sing-songs, nudging him in the side. "How do you feel about Bäckerei-Bar tonight?"
He groans a little, but wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her against him, mussing her hair to show his amusement. "You won our wager fair and square, Shildlein . We go wherever you wish!"
"Wherever I wish, huh?" She says, ducking out of his grip. "Well, what if I want to stay home?"
"We can stay if you want. I am sure there are many places that deliver." He shrugs, padding into the kitchen. As he pours himself a glass of water he pilfers a slice of lemon from his breakfast supplies. The taste has really begun to grown on him.
"No, I mean I want you to cook dinner!" She takes the water pitcher from him and pours her own glass. She eyes him over the lip of her drink, waiting for his reaction.
The routine of their household is such that it is he who cooks breakfast, they each fix their own lunches and dinner is usually out. On the days that they do not spar, Brigitte cooks their dinner. So, this is how she wants to take her reward?
"Certainly!" He says, pouring himself more water. "But, with what groceries?" Their weekly shopping trip usually consists of enough groceries for meals for the week. They keep the odd snacks around in case one of them gets peckish, but as far as extra supplies for impromptu meals…
"Oh, don't you worry about that. You'll see after your shower!" And with that mysterious pronouncement, she bounds off to her own room.
What game is she playing?
He finds out as soon as he leaves his bedroom. From here he can see she has arranged ingredients on the kitchen island, and even pulled out bowls and utensils for cooking. She looks up from fetching the measuring spoons as she hears him approach. "I think Jalfrezi sounds pretty good, don't you?"
He looks at the spread of groceries and raises an eyebrow. "When did you get all this?"
"Wellllll, you know." She picks up her holopad, tapping something on the screen. "I might have picked some groceries up super early this morning and hidden them somewhere."
The cheek of her! She had planned this before even securing a victory! What would she have done if she had lost? He asks her as much, and she smirks. "I figure I would have just used this for dinner tomorrow."
"Look, I even found a recipe that looks good!" She shows him the tablet. He takes it from her with a groan of fake-exasperation and sets to work.
He has made curry before, but never Jalfrezi . It doesn't prove to be much different from his usual recipe though, and with Brigitte's help the preparation goes quickly. She chops the vegetables while he prepares the chicken. She works on the rice while he prepares the sauce, and even washes the dishes as he finishes using them. He tries to help her dry them when he has a moment but she shooes him away.
"Just because I'm making you cook doesn't mean I won't do my fair share!" She scolds, even as he argues that it is her reward, but she insists.
Once the food is ready, he serves up two steaming plates and hands her one.
"Looks pretty good." She remarks, sniffing it appreciatively. "But you know what would make it even better?"
" Bier ?" He guesses, and she rolls her eyes.
"No! I mean, well, yes but that's not what I meant!" She fetches two bottles from the fridge and pops the caps. "What I mean is, we should turn this into a movie night!"
He contemplates it for a moment. The idea has merit; since they stayed in tonight they have more time to themselves than usual. Sunday evening is their dedicated movie night, but he does have several films he's been meaning to see…
"I'll even let you pick what we watch!" She wheedles, which seals the deal.
They take their food to the living room and arrange themselves on the sofa. Reinhardt flips through the movie selection until he finds the one he wants, and Brigitte groans when she sees the title.
" Roses of Florence? " She says, her mouth half-full of rice. "That sounds like one of your sappy rom-droms."
From the summary he has read on the movie, it is very likely to be. He doesn't tell her that though, just grumbles a cryptic "You'll have to wait and see." and hits PLAY.
The camera pans across a lush, green field dotted with bright red blooms. It focuses on the foreground, where a vase of crimson roses sits, beaded with dew. A woman's hand reaches down, plucks up one of the roses and then dashes it to the ground to the swell of violins.
He studiously ignores Brigitte, who he is sure is already making gagging faces at him. She likes to poke fun at his love for dramas, but he gets his revenge by making fun of her love for true crime shows.
They sit in silence as the movie progresses. Soon after they start Brigitte gets up to pop some popcorn and returns with a large wooden bowl of buttery kernels that she slides between them so they can share. The popcorn dwindles as the light slowly fades out of the room and night falls.
On the screen the protagonist, Sofia Russo is arguing with her father, Crime Lord Don Russo, saying he should spare the handsome young man Lorenzo who owes him money. That Lorenzo is the son of a wealthy businessman and he can be used as a ransom. Reinhardt knows as well as any other viewer that she is secretly in love with Lorenzo.
There is a warm weight against his arm.
The knight looks down to see his squire resting there; she has slid from her upright position sideways so her arm butts up against his elbow. Her head is nodding like a heavy flower, her eyes half-lidded. Watching her try not to fall asleep is almost as entertaining as the movie. He Eventually she succumbs, her head lolling back against the couch and her breath evening into a soft, whistling sigh. He notices the popcorn bowl is has been pushed precariously to the edge of the sofa and moves it to the coffee table.
Reinhardt watches the movie through until the screen darkens and credits roll. Sofia Russo has ascended to take her father's place, murdering him to save her lover's life. When she caught Lorenzo cheating she had killed him too, his blood spreading from his body in a brilliant crimson halo that fades into an image of a rose. Truly a tragedy. He flips the screen off, leaving the room in darkness. He nudges Brigitte with his shoulder, but she doesn't stir; she is well and truly asleep. He would feel bad waking her up, which leaves only one option.
Carefully he gathers his squire into his arms; one tucked beneath her knees, the other around her shoulders. He gets up from the couch, (wincing a little as his knees pop) and makes his way gingerly toward their bedrooms. He shoulders her door open and tucks her into her messy bed, pulling the covers up to her shoulders.
He hasn't done this since she was small.
Feeling a warm swell of tenderness that has nothing to do with the movie, he smoothes a few strands of hair from her brow.
He leaves her room, the words unspoken.
Sleep well, Shildlein.