Hello lovely readers! We have one more nice, happy scene for you before all hell breaks loose. It's going to be fun. Well...fun for us!
Chapter Summary: Hungary and Netherlands strike a few deals regarding the sale of potions, magical items, and the secret to attracting a demon.
Ch. 13: Barter and Trade
October 31, 12:15 PM
The kitchen is warm thanks to a merry fire going in the hearth, its flames licking up the sides of a massive black pot. The smell coming from it is alluring, like a touch of perfume with hints of wine and chocolate. It fills the whole room and spreads its tendrils through the rest of the house. But there is something missing. The color isn't quite right; it's a murky shade of peach, almost shrimp-colored. Hungary taps her chin and looks between the pot and her shelves of ingredients. More rose petals? A dash of powdered incubus horn? Or maybe...
"Butterfly wings!" She begins pushing bottles and jars aside. "Just the thing to make the heart flutter. Though I may still need something for the color."
Just as she finds the right jar, her doorbell rings. Ah, of course. The Netherlands is always late to their meetings, and he always seems to appear once she's decided to get something done while waiting. At least this potion needs to boil for a while longer. With a sigh she pushes a few wayward strands back under the scarf covering her hair and answers the door, one hand on her hip. "You're late."
"You're pretty." Netherlands smiles, reaching up and tugging that stray hair loose again. She's always pissy when he's late. But she pays well, so they get along just fine. His coat is lined with magical items, worth a fortune if he sold them all at a fair price. Unfortunately, nobody is buying anything for fair prices these days. "Now that we're done stating the obvious, are you going to invite me in?"
"Hmm." She lets him stand there another minute, then steps back to let him pass. "You're lucky my stock is low. Come on, in the kitchen. I have to watch cauldron or it will over-brew."
Smiling a little wider, Netherlands takes her arm and guides her into the kitchen, sniffing the air. "Ah, liquid viagra. Who's ordering lust juice?"
Hungary smirks. "My most common customer: Belarus."
"My, my." Netherlands smirks back, taking Hungary's hand and giving her a twirl. "I hope you're watering that down. Potent stuff, babe." He picks her up by the waist and sets her on her kitchen island, enjoying the sight of her in full kitchen-witch regalia - apron and all. "So, you want the specials list? I got some dragon tongues, believe it or not. Cost a fucking fortune. But for you..."
"For me...?" She leans forward with a wicked smile. They always play this way; flirting, bartering, and never actually going any farther. It makes business fun.
"For you... Four grand and a little bottle of what you've got cooking." He leans up and tugs her hair again. "I have to seduce myself an incubus, after all."
Hungary snorts. "Sweetheart, don't take me for a fool. You should be begging me to take a couple dragon tongues off your hands. You have nowhere else to unload them. Two grand, and half a bottle."
"Oh, I have plenty of places to unload them," Netherlands says, still holding his smirk. Not as many places now that England closed up shop, but that doesn't mean he's going to let her off easy - not when he knows she needs the tongue. "Three grand, and a full bottle."
She raises an eyebrow. "Why do you even need a full bottle? Incubi aren't so hard to seduce, you know. Two and a half, and maybe I'll let you in on a little secret about harnessing sex demons."
"Two-seventy-five, plus a half-bottle and your sexy little secrets straight from your sexy little mouth," Netherlands winks, dropping back against the counter. "They're already cured. And I need the potion. My incubus doesn't want me to know he's an incubus."
"Ah, forbidden love! Well dear, you should have said so to begin with; I do enjoy a good romantic drama." Hungary shakes his hand before he can backtrack. "Deal. Now let me go stir that, or you will be dealing with the consequences."
"You're stirring more than a cauldron in that apron," he replies, pulling her off the counter and setting her to the floor. "Go work. I'll watch."
"Trying to learn my secrets? Such a bad boy." She laughs and sways her hips, grabbing the butterfly wings as she passes. She pulls three from the jar and stirs them in one at a time: a full stir to the left, half to the right, and then left again. "I have a list on the fridge over there. It's just the usual stock; you wouldn't believe how many requests I've been getting! Can you fill it?"
"Hmm..." Snatching the list from the fridge, he scans the paper and takes the ingredients from his coat as he reads them. "When do you need the mermaid's kelp? I'm clean out of that," he says mournfully. That's a high price, high quality ingredient. Hungary and others would pay a pretty penny for it.
"Oh! You can cross that off. It was the luckiest thing; Seychelles needed an energy booster, and happened to have some mermaid's kelp to offer for trade. Though I suppose one can't be too surprised. All sorts of things wash up on her island."
"That they do," Netherlands says, crossing it off. "I'll have to go see her. Always a pleasure, Seychelles. Much like you." There's more on the list. This is definitely going to be a good day; he's practically cleaning out his coat. "Jeez, how many orders are you backed up on?"
"At least ten," she says, waving her hand. "I'll get through it. Let's see...the color still isn't right. What does it need? Ah! A tomato!" She rushes back to her counter, picking a small one from the basket of vegetables and dicing it with a sharp knife. "What I wouldn't give for some tomatofae dust. It's so difficult to come by. Oh well, I can make due with a tomato and a little regular fairy dust."
"Oh, Honey..." Netherlands sidles up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, producing a vial of the tomatofae dust he collected from Spain's house earlier. "It's your lucky day. The tomatofae are in heat again."
Hungary gasps in delight, reaching for the bottle. "What's the asking price for this? Of course, if I wasn't so busy I could collect myself."
"Ten grand," he says, dangling the bottle above her head, knowing she'll haggle. "You know how rare it is when it's out of season. This should be enough to carry you through to the next heat."
She turns in his arms to glare. "What sort of business do you think I run here? If you're not going to give me a serious price, don't waste my time. I'm already behind, and tomatoes are cheap."
"Mm-hmm, but tomatofae dust has its own qualities - particularly powerful, as you know." He gives her a smirk, still dangling the bottle. "Seven."
"Well, I'm listening. I could consider...five. And you should remember you owe me a little hush money." Her fingers walk their way up his chest, resting just against his collar. "I know about your private collection. Who are you going to come running to when the creatures find out you've been hoarding their goods? England's tapped out, Romania is away, and Norway would just love to watch you stew in your own juices. That just leaves one little kitchen witch, with a small collection of wolfsbane, garlic, and fairy charms."
"Five," Netherlands pouts, his fingers sliding down her back. That's unfair. She's made wide use of his so-called 'private' collection, buying incubus semen and renting the locket with a little of Finland's hair in it whenever she wants her house cleaned. But he likes her guts, and her smirk, and the way she's touching his collar. And she does have him there. "Five, and a kiss from a pretty kitchen witch."
Hungary grips his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss that is well worth the asking price. Then she pulls away and dabs at her lips with a handkerchief. "Must be the smell of the potion. You should see what happens when Roddy's around. Or Gil. Or Kat..."
"Oh, I would love to." Netherlands drags his knuckles down her sides and gives her a rather sexy smirk. "Call them all over next time. We can make it a party," he says, brushing a lock of hair over her ear.
"And your incubus?" she replies, snatching the tomatofae dust from his hand. She slides out of his reach and adds just a pinch into her potion. Instantly it turns a deep, sultry red. Belarus will be pleased; though, somehow, the woman's plans never seem to work out.
"My incubus is an incubus," Netherlands says, slightly bitter. "I'm lucky if I can hold his attention for an hour. Which is why I'm in need of your magical viagra."
"Well here's that secret I was promising," she says as she stirs. "Incubi feed on the energy they get from sex, so there's something that works far better than a love potion to attract them. They've got enough lust; hell, I use bits of their essence to make it. However..." Hungary reaches over to the shelf where she keeps her recently completed and most popular concoctions. "An energy boost ought to help one sniff you out."
"Really?" Netherlands asks, raising his eyebrows as he takes the bottle from her. It's bright orange and it looks kind of radioactive, but if it helps him keep Canada in his bed for more than a night, he'll take it. "How much?"
"Three jars of eye of newt, two bottles of black cat tails, and a bag of charmed bones." All of that is on her list already, but this ought to take the price down.
"So you'll just owe me thirty," says Netherlands, not bothering to haggle. It's worth it. Anything for Canada is worth it.
"Done," says Hungary. "Always a pleasure, my dear. My customers thank you as well; I do try to keep all my sales top-shelf. There's too much that can go wrong with bargain brands." Netherlands, of all people, should know that much. They've had their share of adventures with less-than-adequate magical items.
Netherlands laughs, reaching up to touch her cheek. "Did you ever tell Turkey about that side-effect, or did he just figure it out when he sprouted ears and a tail?"
Hungary blushes. "I may never have told him exactly why that occurred. Just...you know, helped him handle it."
"That's my girl, drumming up business." He leans in and steals another kiss before she can stop him. "Bill me for that one," he murmurs, drawing away and heading for the door. "Come to the door in just your apron next time, and I'll give you half-off everything."
Hungary rolls her eyes. "Keep dreaming, Netherlands. I'll make sure I'm cooking something less intoxicating next time. Like a stink bomb."
"Oh, you wish it was just the fumes." He grins, waving over his shoulder.