"No one's ever come along for the groceries. I just want you to know that," Leslie chuckled, staring at his half-scratched list. "Most people hiring me aren't interested in this part, that's why they hired me."
The meat and produce departments were last as always. He was curious just how picky she was going to be at the sight of chopped parts, bone, and the distinct scent that accompanied it. By now he was accustomed to the theatrical gag of his two daughters. And every time holding back laughter as he reminded them that their other father was in fact a fisherman.
None of which had been mentioned. Rule of thumb learned early on, it was best to wait for his clients to ask whether or not he had a spouse or children before throwing that information to the wind.
Leslie: "Sourdough, soda, ciabatta, we can do it. Do you like soups? Sandwiches? Bread and butter?"
Athena: ‘I like all of it. I like food. Soups are good, they seem easy right? Sandwiches get tricky with the cooked stuff and the heating up and whatnot.’
Leslie: "The secret to soups is patience. It gets better the longer it simmers and sits. And garlic is your best friend."
Athena: ‘What’s simmer?’
Leslie: He smiles. "So, that's the 1 and 2 dial on the stove. It's when you start something high then bring it low."
Athena: She is so out of her depth. She cannot let him know. But she needs to let him know. ‘And... if your stove doesn’t have numbers…?’
Leslie: His brow arched, accentuating its sharpness. "What does it have?"
Athena: ‘…Nothing. It just turns and the flame gets bigger and then smaller if you turn it in the other direction.’
Leslie: "So then, the smaller flame range. Want me to show you? We can cook some rice."
Athena: ‘Yes, please.’ There’s a pause, heavy, maybe awkward. ‘I don’t cook. Like ever. Never learned, never taught. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about it. So I appreciate the patience you are giving me.’
Leslie: "Everyone starts somewhere. I do this every single day. I assure you the pleasure is mine."
Athena: She’s skeptical, and it shows, but she’ll allow, writing down her address on a piece of paper. ‘Here. Come by when you can, I’ll let the doorman know you’re coming and he will let you up.’
Leslie: "A rice dish for our first session? We can make sourdough to celebrate your success not burning rice." His smile reached his eyes. The paper was taken and neatly folded.
From Host to Guest || Spellbound || December, 2013
Sophia: The moon was full. They were back in town. The cool blue of the dashboard’s lights reflected off the pale cheeks of the two vampires inside. The car sped like a bullet through the countryside, and Henry only slowed when the turn appeared on the smaller roads.
Sophia produced her phone, putting her fingers on the heat vents of the car so they’d interact with the touch screen.
{Text (Leslie)} we’re a few minutes away! xx -S
Leslie: Leslie checked his phone again, slipped back to his back pocket with a smile. He couldn't stop himself from moving. Practically bouncing on his heels as another pan was removed from the stove. No one in this house had an eye (or nose) for cooking anything other than runny eggs and roast. He couldn't in good conscience leave his coven to another of Belmira's charcuterie boards. Not for a third day.
His phone was checked again once everything had been pulled from the heat. He had read the text, but forgot what it had said. Perhaps a little too much energy.
{Text} I'll be outside
Sophia: The car pulled into the driveway, through the trees and towards the coven house. Sophia checked her phone, set it on the dashboard, and reached up to open the sunroof— it wasn’t lost on her, the irony of a family car having a window specifically for letting sunshine in. She poked her head up anyway, then her shoulders as she looked for Leslie.
“Hey!” she called to him as the car rolled to a stop. “Long time!”
“Soph get down,” Henry muttered, grabbing at her waist. “He sees us.” His tone was playful, though. No hint of malice. They’d been doing quite well recently in the “no fighting” department.
Rather than get down, though, Sophia propelled herself up and through the roof completely. She moved in a pale blur as she came to a short stop in front of Leslie.
One of the donors she’d already had that night might have had a touch of something in their system already.
Henry got out of the driver’s side, shutting the door as Sophia rocked up on tip-toe to peck Leslie on the cheek. He moved at a slower pace than she had.
Leslie: The moon was almost full, shining down on what appeared to be a newly waxed car like illumination on water. A touch higher class than anything in this yard. He expected as much from these two.
That same quickness he had witnessed their last night together. And just as before, her celerity caught the witch off guard, laughing in surprise at her sudden appearance.
His hands came naturally to her hips, then her face, cupped gently as he offered his own, more intimate kiss. He wasn't afraid to.
"Every time I don't expect to see y'all again," he greeted. He was neatly groomed tonight. Hair barely dry from a shower. Attached to his skin, mingling with his lavender scent, was that of grilled chicken and some kind of herbaceous sauce. He hardly noticed.
"What are we doing tonight?"
Henry: “We have to keep some measure of excitement, don’t we?” Henry called, coming to stand next to the two. He wouldn’t deny the enjoyment of the sight of the two of them, even with a simple kiss.
There was something of a voyeur in him.
Sophia cast him a teasing look and turned back to Leslie. “We’re taking you downtown. Somewhere really nice.”
Leslie: "Nice like what I'm wearing, or should I change?"
He couldn't just kiss one without kissing the other. A single warm hand neatly cradled Henry's jaw, pulling the vampire to meet his lips in a lingering chaste kiss. Seeing them still stirred butterflies in his stomach.
Sophia: “You’re perfect,” Sophia assured him. “You’ll fit right in with us.”
“You should take that as a compliment,” Henry said to him as he returned the kiss. “She’s never called me perfect.”
Sophia reached for Henry, taking his hand as she sidestepped back to stand next to him.
“We can get our hands on all sorts of good stuff there,” she said. “And I believe it’s our turn to host.”
Leslie: He wanted to chase those lips. He didn't know when he'd have them again. Seemed a mystery with these two. He felt at his clothes, searched for any stains of cooking on his button-down. There was usually something, which was why he cooked shirtless most of the time, but tonight was blessedly free of an excuse to stall.
"Just lemme get my bag. I haven't checked my blood sugar in - too long," he realized. "Be just a minute." Just a minute to the second he rushed back into the house for what he needed and his jacket on the way out.
Sophia: Sophia waited in Henry’s arms in the cold. The car was still running, heat steady for when they returned.
When Leslie came back, Sophia reached for his hand. “We’re taking you to this place downtown. It’s one of my favorites. Henry showed it to me the first time we were down here.”
Leslie: Leslie would meet Sophia halfway, squeezing her hand for warmth he knew she'd enjoy.
"Are we dancing?" he smiled, slinging his bag over his shoulder as they walked.
Sophia: “Maybe,” she replied, rocking up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Why don’t we get in the car and we’ll tell you?”
“It’s a fairly good drive,” Henry added, moving around and opening the driver’s side. “But we’ll make good time.”
“Especially the way he drives,” Sophia teased.
Leslie: "We're going!" He smiled, reluctant to let go of her hand first. Only when they reached the back of the car. He only hesitated a second.
"I think I'm being presumptuous; do you want to ride next to...?" he gestured to Henry.
Sophia: She looked from Henry back to Leslie. “Well, I was going to sit with you in the back,” she replied. She opened the back door and poked her head in. “As long as Henry doesn’t mind.”
Henry spared a glance for her in the rearview mirror. “Your choice,” he called to the witch.
Leslie: "We'll have to give Henry distracting attention." The back seat it was. Belmira might argue he was too trusting, but there he was, spending his night with two vampires, tossing his bag into the passenger's seat next to Henry.
Sophia: He had nothing to worry about. Not from her, at least. And if she had any say in Henry’s behavior, he didn’t have anything to worry about from him either.
Sophia slid across the expensive leather to make room for Leslie.
“I think that’s what he wants, isn’t it?” She spoke that last bit to Henry, and she could make out the raise in the curve of his cheek in a smile at the comment.
Leslie: "I can start now." Lithe enough to wedge between the seats, cupping Henry's jaw long enough to steal a kiss. He had missed them both and felt no need to conceal his pleasure with their company.
"So, how long's the drive?"
Sophia: Sophia rested her hand on Leslie’s back as he kissed Henry, rubbing along his warmth.
Henry returned the kiss with a hint of tongue, pulling away to shift the gears into reverse.
“A half hour or so,” he said. “We’ll be going downtown.”
Leslie: Henry giving just enough to leave Leslie wanting. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he would take that desire with him as he settled back in his seat. Sophia's hand sandwiched between his own.
Downtown. He'd just been there, hadn't he? The Blue Room. But no, that was months ago.
Leslie stared off at nothing, absorbed by his own thoughts until a bump in the road returned him.
"Catch me up on your life, love." He smiled at his hostess.
Sophia: Sophia smiled at the attention and shifted closer to him.
“A whole lot of boring,” she replied.
She heard Henry give a little scoff and shot him a look, slipping into Leslie’s lap. “Parties, mostly. We did get into a fight up in New York last month… but…”
“We won,” Henry finished for her.
Leslie: A part of him wanted her to buckle up. He wouldn't say this, of course, but that part of him existed. Caring and cautious, contradicting the situation he allowed himself to be in every night in their company.
His arms made themselves at home around her waist.
"A fight? What - other vampires?"
Sophia: Sophia rested her head on his shoulder, waiting for Henry to expand.
“Slayers,” he replied, looking back at Leslie in the rearview mirror briefly before pale eyes went back to the road.
“It was a territory thing,” Sophia added. “Boring stuff.”
Leslie: His arms were soon around Sophia's waist. She could rest in him the entire ride if she wanted to.
"It's not boring to me. You two fought these people? With... magic, guns, hands?"
Sophia: Sophia nestled against him. “It just depended,” she sighed. “We all have our specialties.”
“Tell him yours, Soph.”
Sophia sat up, cutting her eyes to Henry a moment before she looked back at Leslie. She reached for his hand and lowered it down along her frame to rest at the hem of her skirt. She raised the hem…
A knife, holstered and secure was situated in a garter against her thigh.
Leslie: Leslie looked between the two, wondering what that silent conversation was just then. Had Henry said something he shouldn't?
His hand was easily guided, watching her eyes all the while, searching for something in her expression when he felt the familiar curves and tip of a blade.
"Are slayers people like you, or hunters?" he asked gently.
Sophia: Sophia hesitated.
“They’re humans,” Henry answered, watching the two in the rearview mirror as Sophia let her head fall to rest on Leslie’s shoulder.
“They specialize in killing people like us,” Sophia added. “They figured it out to maintain territory.”
“Or to try to,” Henry added. He merged off the main road, moving into the main part of the city.
“They aren’t… good people,” Sophia said. “Mafia types.”
Leslie: "They know? Do you think they've kept it to themselves?" Who would believe them, he wondered. It was easier to believe someone was a witch - or thought they were - than something like that. Why his people had been tortured and executed for centuries by comparison. One was just a folk tale to most.
Sophia was gently squeezed.
"I don't understand people's capacity for evil."
Sophia: Sophia considered the question. “They do. Easier to fight us when they have a leg up on everyone else.”
She closed her eyes as Leslie’s arms enveloped her. Rather than agree, she just pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Let’s change the subject,” Henry called. “I’m not walking in with a sour mood.”
Leslie: Easy enough to do. Leslie kissed into Sophia's hair and smiled, watching Henry as best he could from the rearview mirror. How could he be anything less than content in their presence he didn't yet know.
"I can fix that. Soon as we stop the car... or hit a red light. Bet you a kiss."
Henry: Henry looked up and met Leslie’s eyes in the mirror. His lips quirked. “Can you?” He didn’t doubt it.
Leslie: His pleasant smile became a grin. Well, that was easy. "I already have."
Sophia: “Don’t call him on it. He’ll just get grumpy out of spite,” Sophia replied in a mock whisper, lips roaming to kiss along Leslie’s neck.
Henry rolled to a stop at the red light in front of them and turned to look back at Sophia with an indignant look.
Leslie: Excellent timing. Neither were wearing a seatbelt at this point, which made leaning forward, arm around Sophia's waist, all the easier. A pause just long enough to capture Henry's lips. After all, he'd won the bet without even trying.
Sophia: Sophia smiled, running a hand along Leslie’s back as he kissed Henry. Henry leaned into the kiss, and it wasn’t until the beeping horn of the car behind them alerted him to the fact that the light had turned green.
Henry turned away languidly, rolling his window down and flipping the bird to the driver behind them as he pushed through the intersection.
Leslie: Rather than startle, Leslie laughed at the horn, and continued with Henry's reaction. There was an interesting personality beneath the stoicism. Charm, sass, opinions, lust. He knew this man intimately, but these little moments meant the world to him.
But kissing one without kissing the other was a sin. As soon as his back rested in his seat, his hands roamed Sophia's neck and hair, gently guiding her into another kiss.
Sophia: Sophia smiled against Leslie’s lips, a muffled giggle passing as Henry hit the gas and she fell back against Leslie’s chest.
Leslie: A laugh soon followed by the man holding her. Just shy of bumping foreheads. Still, his fingers brushed over her face in a subconscious wellness check.
"This place we're going. Will there be... more like y'all?"
Sophia: “Maybe a few,” Sophia said. “We have friends in Atlanta. They mentioned they’d be in the city when they heard we were coming…”
Sophia wanted to melt into his concern. It was warm, gentle… Different.
Henry pulled up, glancing back at the two before he reached for his wallet in the glove compartment.
“Even if they’re not, plenty of things to keep you entertained,” Henry replied as he stepped from the driver’s seat. Sophia followed suit, moving off Leslie so he could get out of the car too.
Leslie: As though he needed more vampires to keep him entertained. Had him wondering if Henry believed that was all they offered in terms of company. That was just wrong, but he couldn't find the words to breach the subject smoothly.
Instead, Leslie just smiled and nuzzled into Sophia's neck.
"As though I need anyone else," he decided upon with a stretch, pulling Sophia back to his chest for a kiss between her eyes. It was a truth, and he believed in them wholeheartedly.
Sophia: For the duration of the ride, Sophia had set about planting gentle kisses to Leslie’s throat, his jaw. It was a sort of teasing for both of them, she imagined. His scent was so sweet.
And she didn’t mind Henry’s eyes on the pair of them in the rearview mirror when he could spare it. It wasn’t jealousy. It was an enjoyment all its own.
For Henry’s part, Sophia’s suspicions were correct. He watched Leslie’s face, the strong planes of his cheekbones in the dim light and the shine of Sophia’s golden hair.
He very nearly missed a turn.
Leslie: He realized early on that Henry's mode of affection was both masculine and silent. Perhaps even subdued. Either his behavior had been taught, or tailored. There was every chance he didn't know what he was doing, but that Leslie doubted. He was as mysterious as he was beautiful.
And Leslie had no clue what he was thinking.
But Sophia, whatever she withheld, her secrets weren't as obviously tucked away. He didn't have to think as much, which was by no means an insult. There was freedom in her smile, gifted to those she offered it to.
"So, this is it?" Leslie asked, arm placed upon Sophia's hip.
Henry: The car stopped in front of a sleek building. A valet in a crisp white shirt hopped down from the small booth at the entrance.
“This is it,” Henry replied, opening the car door and stepping out. He tossed the keys to the valet, and Sophia stepped from the car to take Henry’s hand.
“Come on,” she said, keeping hold of Leslie’s hand in a form of human (for lack of a better word) chain.
Leslie: Either he was about to be swept off his feet, or eaten by a pack of vampires. Was that the group term? These were arguably the best people to ask, but he would sooner ask his family than potentially embarrass himself.
"Valet and all! You're absolutely certain I'll be allowed in here?" He didn't feel at all dressed appropriately.
Henry: “Of course. You’re with us,” Henry replied with a toss of his head. It carried merit, the statement. No one fucked with The Teppes’. Or their friends.
At least, no one that was a member of the fucking wait staff.
“Soph,” Henry murmured, reaching for her waist as they stopped at the main entrance. “Take Leslie upstairs. I’ll be right there…”
He watched her eyes flicker behind him, no doubt noting the person who had caught his attention.
“Make it quick,” she replied softly. Then, to Leslie, she said, “come on. Henry has business, apparently.”
Leslie: Reluctantly, the witch nodded. He didn't know what had just happened, but this wasn't the place to ask. But this place... he couldn't put his finger on why it gave such a bad feeling.
Sophia's hand was squeezed. Halfway up the stairs, he hunched, whispering in her ear, "Everything alright?"
Sophia: She glanced back over her shoulder, down to the approximate location Henry had disappeared from.
“Yeah. Just someone that works for him showed up. He wasn’t supposed to unless…” A sigh of disappointment, and she looked up at Leslie apologetically. “Unless it was an emergency.”
Leslie: An underling, he thought in fascination. Moments like this, he realized how easy it was to forget who these people were. What they were. What Henry was capable of.
"An emergency where you both need to leave?"
Sophia: She shook her head. “Probably not. It kind of comes with the territory. This happens a lot…”
She reached for Leslie’s hand and guided him up the stairs. A posh little club would greet them, filled with all sorts of walks of life. A band played smooth jazz propped up on the stage.
“Let’s get a drink until he comes back. I’m sure he’ll have treats…”
Leslie: "How did he know... " Maybe he shouldn't ask. Curious how anyone knew where they were heading, unless this had been planned more thoroughly than he had assumed.
Sophia's hand was squeezed. The music was almost a distraction, but now he couldn't get out of his own head.
"Treats?"
Sophia: “Hm?” Sophia looked back at Leslie. “Oh, scent. Tracking. And… to be honest, no one in the family ever really goes off the radar for long.”
Perhaps she’d said too much, but she didn’t care.
“Yeah…” She placed a finger at the tip of her nose and winked at him. “Something to excite the night.”
Leslie: Leslie felt a wave of sympathy for them both. His life was an open book, but certain aspects were still a matter of privacy. They were choices, not entitlements.
"Y'all excite me all on your own." Her hand, swallowed by his own, was kissed.
Sophia: He made her smile in ways she had forgotten she could. Sophia squeezed his hand and turned to lead him up the stairs.
At the top, a man in a crisp white shirt and vest stepped forward and gave a polite smile in greeting.
“McClintock,” she said, flashing the ring on her hand. “And Buchanan. With a guest.”
The waiter looked Leslie up and down. Despite the pageantry, it was clear that the place didn’t have a dress code. All sorts were here.
“Right this way,” he said with a gracious smile. He would lead the two of them to a circular booth at the far end of the club. A stage was straight ahead, and it looked like the band was on a break. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Leslie: Leslie followed along, perfectly happy being led by the hand. There was nowhere he intended to stray if only a glance back in the hopes of seeing Henry behind them. No such luck.
With the offering of a drink, Leslie looked to his hostess. Was there anything she desired, short of his own blood? A thought that warmed his cheeks instantly.
He needed to be mindful. He'd left his insulin in his bag in the car. A mistake, so easily distracted tonight.
"Yuengling Lager Light, please. You?"
Sophia: “Vodka tonic,” she said. “And a whiskey neat for Mr. Buchanan.”
She sank into the seat, sliding over so Leslie could join her.
“He should be back soon…”
Leslie: Leslie took to her side. Arm opened and splayed over the back of the booth opposite of Sophia. Not wanting to appear to be claiming her.
"How many people here... are like you?"
Sophia: “Mm. Half, at the most. The ring’s a giveaway, but not everyone will have it.” She nodded towards a couple situated across the way. “That’s Roman and Desmond. They’re older than Henry.” They were also responsible for recruiting donors, but she didn’t mention that.
Henry’s blond head appeared then, nodding to the two men she had just pointed out as he passed them.
“And you know that one…” She cast a coy little smirk back at Leslie.
Leslie: Despite the shocking revelation, Leslie managed to smile at the sight of Henry. Half was not at all his expectation, and only as she explained did he realize he had one.
"That means this is a haven of sorts?" There was a strong inflection this time. A bit of hope in his tone.
"Oh. Well, yes. That's kind of you." Having the children close by had always been preferable. This was even more true, now. Having the entire family away from his husband was another matter.
"I'll talk to Mason and the kids, and let you know."
Sometimes, in moments like this, kind words from Charles felt like filler ums and ahs to gather thoughts. He didn't mind. Just wondered what the telepath was thinking. He didn't envy his ability, but sometimes...
Charles released tension in his shoulders he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It was fine. Leslie was lovely, and the very best friend.
"Thanks," he said, and would leave it at that.
He heaved a sigh and sat up. "Mm. Yes. I should probably get back to it. I'll see you next Saturday, then?"
The subject would be left where Charles dropped it, along with any other inquiries he wanted to make. Something told him the call needed to end, for the sake of the voice on the other end.
"Next Saturday." But, he hesitated. "If you wanna bring the children, the girls can keep them company. Just a thought."
Charles dragged a hand down his face. He didn't like disappointing the girls any more than he did disappointing his own children.
But he couldn't. Too much, too quickly. "I can double check my schedule, but I think next week will be best."
"Time for us to tidy up the house. Hmm?" It didn't take that long to do it, but he was nodding at the girls. Just... let it be. They would see him soon enough.
The girls made excuses to go their separate ways. Ester upstairs and Ruby to the garden. The kitchen belonged to them once more.
