This medieval banter between the brothers is a little funny, to be honest. I am the head of this family! I am the head of the Knights! Your witch! Her name is Diana! She's a damsel in distress (temporarily), and we are brave and will rescue her, jump from the helicopter like a manly man, sorry, like a vampire, don't jump down the hole, no, damsel fly up, let's get her out of here (no shit sherlock, why the hell have you come), you are both brave, the battle continues, solemn look, solemn look, exit stage.
So the rights or powers of the Knights of Lazarus are stronger than the de Clermonts clan hierarchy? But in S3 they are not strong enough to make Baldwin accept the scion? Not until he is threatened? Egh, boys and their power plays...
I mean Baldwin has quite a temper in the books but he works in finance and the books are set in 2008-2009 so all things considered I'd say he took the whole thing as a champ
Pairing: Baldwin Montclair x Miranda Reynolds (ofc)
Chapter rating: General
Chapter warnings: None
Word count: 3096
Read on AO3 (registered users only)
Author's Note/Disclaimer:
Well, friends, life has been majorly life-ing since the last update. And it turns out these two going to dinner requires me writing/editing/deleting/starting from scratch/rinse & repeat, and I have not been able to give them the attention they deserve.
But in the interest of getting things going again, we start with a sliver of the chapter I originally had planned. Consider it the pre-dinner appetiser that took me many, many rewrites to be happy enough to post.
~~~
Chapter 11 - Establishing Objectives
Baldwin
As Baldwin paused to straighten his cuffs and assess his appearance in the full length mirror in his walk-in wardrobe, an unfortunate thought occurred. The suit he was wearing was one he normally wore for business dinners or meetings with politicians.
This was not that sort of dinner meeting. The last thing he wanted was to remind Miranda that he was her employer.
He was further disgruntled with the next option he tried. The sleek monochrome suit was too severe, he decided. Worse, it was typical of what he wore when he was trying to intimidate someone.
That was not his goal either.
He finally settled on something decidedly modern, but perfectly acceptable for dinner at a five-star restaurant.
However, Alain still found him in the kitchen minutes later, frowning at his reflection in the glass door of the state-of-the-art wine tower.
Softly clearing his throat, Alain placed the key fob for the freshly detailed Bentley on the island bench next to a bouquet of flowers whose fresh fragrance perfumed the entire kitchen.
Baldwin muttered his thanks and continued to fuss with his tie knot. His fastidiousness was the only indication he gave that this evening was anything out of the ordinary.
“Do you need the tie?” Alain wondered aloud, studying Baldwin with a critical eye and well-practiced benign objectivity.
“It’s dinner,” Baldwin retorted, mildly scandalized by the suggestion.
Modern fashion allowed men to forgo ties on certain occasions, but he could not fathom such informality when taking a woman he wanted to woo out for an upscale meal. He may not have asked a woman out in decades, but there were basic standards that needed to be upheld.
The flowers, for example, were a given. He’d never known a woman who did not enjoy receiving flowers, so he’d personally made the foray to the nearest florist on his way home from work.
It was the first time he’d entered a florist’s shop in years. As soon as the tinkling bells tied to the door handle announced his arrival, he remembered why it was a task he usually delegated. The smell of that many fresh flowers packed into one storefront was overpowering, the salesgirl was on the nervous side, and Baldwin was forced to admit he did not know which type of flowers were appropriate.
Marthe was his primaryadvisor on the language of flowers, but he did not want to call on her expertise in the middle of a shop when there was any risk of Ysabeau answering the landline at Sept-Tours. His sister Freyja was his second choice, but she would take far too much interest in the matter and pester him incessantly afterwards.
In the end, a nosy elderly woman examining the orchids happened to intervene. She claimed lavender roses were unique and symbolized new romance. Since that was Baldwin’s ultimate goal, he took her advice over the quaking shopgirl’s suggestion of daises. A blue-haired octogenarian with orchids seemed like the more reliable source, especially one who smiled fondly and wished him luck on his way out.
Luck had nothing to do with it. Courting required as much strategy as any other kind of campaign.
Satisfied his tie was as straight as it could be and his hair had not gone rogue, Baldwin gave his cuffs a final tug and turned around.
“Should I expect you back this evening?” Alain asked dutifully.
“Of course. It’s only dinner,” Baldwin said, pocketing the car key fob and gathering up the flowers.
Alain bobbed his head, but offered no comment other than a mysterious smirk.
‘Only dinner’ had been Baldwin’s decision after carefully considering the alternatives. Taking Miranda to a bar or wine tasting was too risky so soon after the summer party - she may be leery of alcohol. He knew she liked coffee, but coffee shops were always too crowded and overstimulating. A private setting would make open conversation easier, but it was too soon to invite her back to his place.
Dinner out was the obvious choice. The restaurant was quiet and he’d reserved a private table that wasn’t completely isolated from the other diners. Even if he would not eat much, a meal gave Miranda something else to focus on and the smell of the food would distract him from the smell of her.
Smoothing his tie once more out of habit, Baldwin gave Alain a mock salute with the flowers as he headed for the back passage leading to the garage.
“À bientôt.”
Miranda
My bedroom looked like a disaster area.
The backpack I’d taken to Brighton had spilled its contents at the base of my dresser when I tripped over it earlier. I kicked it out of the way rather than sort it properly. Half of my too small closet covered the entire surface of my queen-sized bed in haphazard heaps, with one pile cascading onto the floor like a lumpy rainbow waterfall.
The nerves I’d been steadfastly ignoring all day spiked when I realized how dangerously close Baldwin’s impending arrival was. Yet there I stood in nothing but my bra and knickers, futilely surveying the wreckage of my wardrobe.
Why on earth had I thought food shopping was more important than figuring out what to wear when I returned to London that afternoon?
After hanging up with Baldwin, it was only when I returned to my accommodation in Brighton that I began to question the exact nature of this dinner, along with just about every other detail of it.
Was it a follow-up to make sure I was really trustworthy? Or some sort of due diligence welfare check?
If so, all I had to do was show that I was capable of interacting with him and the rest of society without babbling like a nutter about non-human creatures. That should also prove I was fit to return to work.
Easy.
Except…
Something in the way he’d asked…with that disarmingly sexy voice telling me to wear something nice and we’d go nice restaurant…
Every time I replayed it in my head, my cheeks flushed and I came to a different conclusion.
What if it was a date?
Baldwin had been pretty damn blunt about his interest in me. He knew I fancied him.
An ancient vampire asking me out would have seemed absurd before Saturday night’s party. Now…it was still absurd, but not outside the realm of possibility.
Or I was completely wrong on all accounts.
Truth be told, I tended to not read these situations very well when there was genuine attraction involved.
Back and forth, I argued with myself all day. Regardless of what this evening was, the prospect of unrestricted time alone with Baldwin Montclair left me breaking a sweat after I showered, spending way too long on my hair and makeup, and fretting over what to wear in the eleventh hour.
In a remarkable oversight on my part, I failed to ask Baldwin where we were going. A ‘nice, safe public restaurant’ could be anywhere by human standards, but what kind of place - other than a blood bank - served a vampire-approved menu?
Since cooked food was unpalatable for him, maybe sushi? A steakhouse with a raw meat option?
One thing I was sure of, wherever we went was guaranteed to have one of the best wine lists in town. That meant it was going to be somewhere expensive. Even if he wasn’t a certified wine snob, Baldwin oozed expensive tastes with his luxury cars and immaculately tailored suits.
Like hell was I going anywhere with Mr. Posh Vampire and not be appropriate dressed.
But I was rapidly running out of time to get dressed at all. Greeting him in my knickers would certainly send a different kind of message.
“Get it together,” I berated myself as I hastily flipped through the remaining hangers in my closet yet again. Nothing new had magically appeared by sheer wishful thinking.
With a grumble of frustration, I dug through the discarded clothes on the bed and yanked out a dress from the bottom of the mess. It was the very first dress I’d tried on and decided 45 minutes ago was a solid maybe.
It was a deceptively simple but classy navy blue wrap dress that flattered my curves without being too tight. Most importantly the flutter sleeves sufficiently covered what remained of the ugly bruising on my shoulder. I’d never worn it to work because the v-neckline showed a little too much cleavage to be considered professional.
It was now the winner because I was out of patience and I hadn’t even thought about shoes yet. Fortunately, I knew exactly which dangling silver earrings and matching necklace I wanted to wear.
I was just poking the second earring through my earlobe when a sharp knock rang like a gunshot from my flat’s front door. Whirling around, I glared at the digital clock on my bedside table.
Baldwin was five minutes early. And he had somehow managed to enter the building without buzzing for me to admit him.
Muttering a curse under my breath, I trotted out and did one last check in the mirror over the credenza by the front door.
Acceptable, I decided, fluffing my hair and adjusting a wayward bra strap. Too late to change anyway.
My heart rate had kicked up like I was about to give a presentation at work. It was accompanied by the same usual rush of giddiness. The only difference was I was going to be presenting myself instead of market assessments.
As ready as I could be, I opened the door.
I was not at all ready for Baldwin to be standing on the other side looking as mind-meltingly handsome as I’d ever seen him.
I momentarily forgot to breathe. His bespoke inky blue suit was like a sexy, after-hours cousin of his daily workwear. The way it perfectly moulded to his tall, athletic frame ought to be illegal. To top it off, he’d traded his standard stark white dress shirt for a black one, with his tie matching his suit. He may as well have stepped out of a GQ magazine spread.
How the hell was this devastatingly good-looking man on my doorstep?
When I came to my senses with a tiny jerk of my head, I realized I wasn’t the only one silently ogling. Baldwin’s eyes were sliding down my body from head to toe with open appraisal. When those amber-brown eyes landed on my bare feet, the corner of his mouth twitched upward before his attention returned to my face.
“I’m early.”
There was not a single hint of apology in his tone, but for some reason I said, “It’s okay.”
It took me entirely too long to notice I was standing in his way and he was waiting for me to invite him in.
“Come in,” I recovered with a stiff sweep of my arm. My gaze landed on my bare feet again and I grimaced at the ridiculousness. Thank god I’d at least taken the time to repaint my toenails after I showered.
Baldwin’s hands had been clasped behind him but once he was inside and I closed the door, he pulled an exquisite bouquet of lavender roses wrapped in brown paper from behind his back.
“These are for you,” he announced, presenting them to me.
“Oh,” I whispered in wonder. Bewildered, I accepted the roses, unable to tear my eyes away from them. “Th-thank you.”
Who turned up with the world’s most beautiful flowers and looking like pure sin for dinner unless…
This was definitely a date.
Ooohhh boy.
A few less ladylike phrases crossed my mind as I mentally scrambled to recalibrate.
Unfortunately, Baldwin had already clocked on to my poorly concealed reaction.
“You’re not allergic, are you?” he asked with a slight frown.
“Uh, no,” I replied quickly. “Not at all.”
“You don’t like roses,” he guessed.
“No! They’re beautiful!” I insisted, already possessive of them. “Just—er—unexpected.”
Baldwin’s severe expression relaxed, but his thick brows remained low over his eyes. My answer had not fully appeased him.
Before he could continue interrogating me, I buried my nose in the gorgeous bouquet. With a deep inhale, their fresh, heady fragrance helped ground me.
“Let me find something to put these in,” I said, turning to bustle into the kitchen.
Unwilling to set the roses down, I stood on tiptoe to rummage one-handed through the upper cabinets, peripherally aware that Baldwin had followed me and was loitering in the doorway to my minuscule kitchen. I sincerely hoped he was not comparing his palatial kitchen to mine, though it struck me as oddly funny that a vampire who didn’t eat solid food had a kitchen six times the size of mine.
As I moved from one cabinet to the next in search of something sturdy enough for the flowers, I caught Baldwin’s eyes flicking up quickly from the vicinity of my backside and legs. I suddenly doubted he’d noticed the size of my kitchen at all.
The best vessel I could come up with was a spare enamelled coffee canister left behind by my former flatmate. It would make a mockery of the splendid bouquet, but it would have to do.
As I gave it a good rinse in the sink, I risked another sideways glance at Baldwin. His eyebrows were drawn together and his head tilted curiously as he studied the coffee canister.
“You don’t have a vase?”
“Uh, no,” I replied, setting the half-filled canister on the stainless steel worktop before gently freeing the roses from their paper. “I don’t really buy flowers.”
That earned me an even more puzzled look. “What about when someone gives them to you?”
“That doesn’t happen either.” My laugh was a little too cynical as I transferred the flowers to their new home.
“Never?” His tone was deeply incredulous.
“Not since my grandparents when I graduated university,” I said with a shrug. I decided not to share the fact that those flowers had been grocery store carnations.
Still focused on the canister, Baldwin made a soft mystified “huh” sound.
“These are gorgeous though,” I said, repositioning a couple of the blooms. A silly grin spread across my face as it fully hit me that a hot man had shown up on my doorstep for a date and actually brought me flowers. “I’ll have to find something to better show them off tomorrow.”
Ducking me head to hide my blush, I quickly excused myself to go find a pair of shoes.
Without the luxury of time, I grabbed the first pair of heels I saw that would go with my dress, a reliably comfortable pair of nude pumps. They were on the tall side, but given Baldwin’s impressive height, I doubted I’d hear any snide comments.
As I did one final check in my bedroom mirror, I fixed the clasp on my necklace before meeting my own eyes.
What was I getting myself into, heading out on a date with a vampire?
My reflection failed to provide an answer.
Purse in hand, I marched back to the entryway credenza to grab my keys from their dish and turned to find Baldwin studying me far more intently than he had the coffee canister. In a reverse of his inspection upon arrival, his eyes took in the new addition of my shoes then travelled up my legs and the rest of my body before landing on my face.
“You look very nice,” he said, voice low and sincere.
“Thank you,” I said. I gave him a quick scan and a bashful smile. “So do you.”
Baldwin’s pleased smile was not at all smug as I expected. It softened his eyes and relaxed his normally stern features in a way I’d never seen before. The effect was stunning.
My stomach gave an odd little flip in response.
“You don’t have to be so nervous,” he said, stepping closer and speaking quietly as if we weren’t the only two people in the room.
My smile dropped at being called out. “I’m not—“
“Your heart rate’s been up and down like a swing since you answered the door,” he informed me matter-of-factly.
I silently cursed my vital signs for their betrayal. With his super keen senses, he’d no doubt also noticed the fact my face kept catching fire every two seconds.
“I’m only pointing it out in case there’s something specific worrying you.”
“No,” I replied with an emphatic shake of my head. Fiddling with the strap of my purse, I decided honesty was the best policy. “I—er—I was not entirely sure what tonight was.”
No longer smiling, Baldwin’s head cocked suspiciously. “What did you think it was?”
“I don’t know.” I blew out a breath. “A wellness check? Due diligence?” I gulped down my rising embarrassment. “A date.”
Thankfully, Baldwin did not laugh in my face at my confused confession. He gave one ponderous nod, his expression carefully composed.
“I suppose it is all of those things,” he said slowly, “although I was leaning more toward the latter.”
“I guessed that by the flowers.”
“That’s why you were so surprised.”
Nibbling my lower lip, I nodded.
Masterfully in control of his reaction and not giving anything away, he clasped his hands behind his back.
“How about this?” he proposed, defaulting to a familiar business-like tone. “How about tonight is two people sharing a meal and getting to know each other better?”
Between the oddly formal delivery and what he was asking, I could not help my sharp, skeptical laugh.
“Some people call that a date,” I pointed out.
“You may call it a wellness check, if you prefer,” he retorted, arching a mocking eyebrow at me.
I was smiling again in spite of myself. He continued to peer down at me without smiling, but there was a warm glint in his light brown eyes that was anything but neutral.
A week ago, I was dreaming of what a date with Baldwin Montclair would be like. Here he was politely asking me out.
I had a strong feeling that if I told him ‘no thanks’ he would respect that.
But I didn’t want to say ‘no thanks.’ Not when we were both all dressed up and ready to go.
“No, I think I prefer the other one,” I said decidedly.
“As do I.” Baldwin’s genuinely pleased smile returned, making my heart rate swing up again.
~~~
French translation:
À bientôt = See you soon
~~~
Tag list: @blue-aconite @adowbaldwin @watson-specter @claireelizabeth85
Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!
Summary: Matthew runs into some old friends. Baldwin is intrigued.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 804
Author's Note: We're back with a new fandom, although a couple of years too late. But I watched the series and fell in love. Immediately ordered the books. I'm glad to be back with my first fictional obsession, vampires. And of course Baldwin captured my attention right away. We do love a fictional emotionally unavailable man.
This fic takes place about a year after the events of Black Bird Oracle, a book I have yet to read so don't come for me when it doesn't follow canon events.
Special shoutout to @notlostgnome for letting me bother them and to @bobfloydsbabe for always encouraging me! No beta/not proofread.
“I ran into some old friends while in Lyon.”
Matthew didn’t even bother to knock as he entered his brother's office. Baldwin held up his hand, phone pressed to his ear.
“Don’t think that I won’t let this go. You have until Friday to fix this.”
He hung up before the blabbering idiot on the other side could form a coherent reply, turning his attention back to Matthew. “We have quite a few of those, brother. You might want to be more specific.”
Matthew dropped into the chair opposite Baldwin, without the grace of a millennia old vampire. “The Castellanos.”
“All of them?” Baldwin inquired, leaning back into his chair.
Matthew shook his head. “Only Alessandro and Elena but apparently they’re all going to be here at some point this month. We should pay them a visit. Or invite them here. It’s been quite some time since last.”
Some time was an understatement. The Castellanos had paid their respects after the loss of Philippe, an appreciated gesture of course, but it had been over 70 years since he had met any of them.
They had been valuable allies and losing the ties between their families had been a mistake but after his father’s death, Baldwin had enough on his plate. On the other hand, 70 years in a vampire’s life wasn’t that long. Getting back in touch wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And he had been slacking recently with family business, too busy with work.
“Are they residing in Lyon, or just visiting?” Baldwin inquired.
Matthew smiled. “According to Alessandro they relocated here when their youngest got accepted for university. They wanted to stay close. Not sure if all of them actually live there though.”
Baldwin raised an eyebrow. “Giovanni is studying again? If I remember correctly, he’s already acquired a few degrees in the last few decades.”
“Ah, here’s where it gets interesting. Their youngest is a newer addition. She wasn’t around last time we saw them.” His brother had a mischievous look on his face, something that rarely bode well for Baldwin. What could possibly be the reason for his brother’s excitement?
“A new vampire among humans? I’m surprised they’re willing to risk it by letting her attend university.” Baldwin commented, leaning forward and locking his hands together underneath his chin, his light brown eyes locking onto Matthew.
His brother mimicked his position. “It’s not a new vampire. She’s human.”
That caught Baldwin off guard. While the recent years had made him somewhat more emphatic towards other creatures, warmbloods among them, he wouldn’t say that he understood why some thought humans fascinating.
“A warmblood? Are you sure?” He questioned, wondering if Matthew was playing some kind of joke on him, simply to see how he would react. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Matthew nodded. “Yes. She seemed nice. She’s attending ENS de Lyon, which is impressive. I didn’t have the time to chat more, which is why I think a visit or invitation would be nice. Catch up about the last 70 years.”
Baldwin had four situations related to work that required his attention, Diana was on his case for something about the Congregation and he needed to deal with the latest issue concerning one of his sister’s children.
Ideally, he wouldn’t have time for this, even if reconnecting with Alessandro and his family could prove useful. But the intrigue of a human family member in a vampire clan was tempting to explore.
“Get in touch with Alessandro. See what fits them best.” Baldwin ordered, not caring that Matthew technically didn’t have to follow his orders. But their relationship had improved in the years that had followed his brother's mating and the birth of his children, so he didn’t think it was an unreasonable request.
Matthew rose from his seat, phone in hand. “I’ll keep you posted. Oh, I promised Becca you would stop by later, just so you know.”
Never the one to refuse his niece anything, something Baldwin would never admit to doing openly anyway, he simply nodded his agreement. “I’ll stop by after I deal with the idiots trying to ruin my company.”
He watched as Matthew left the office, phone already pressed to his ear. He couldn’t exactly say why but he felt a little off about potentially seeing their old friends again.
Baldwin wrote it off as stress combined with the fact that it had been a while since he fed. Looking out at the darkening sky, he thought he might as well take advantage of the twilight. It would help get him mind off work and the other issues that were currently on his plate.
He would need to return to Sept-Tours soon, but it could wait. For now, he needed to clear his head. And a hunt might be exactly what he needed.
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