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The Truth in the Frame || Maximus & Xavier

Maximus: Finally, a radio in the house. The mansion felt whole with music. His master had been generous to allow him a radio in the kitchen. He wouldn't dare ask for a record player in his bedroom, though. Not for some time.

A fresh cigarette was brought to his rose-colored lips, left to dangle while he cleaned the rifles and sang under his breath.

"Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago, and it went right to my head..."

Xavier: Maximus could've asked for a record player in solid gold and Xavier would've found it for him. He was still very much determined to get his butler to indulge in the finer things in life.

Just like Xavier himself was currently doing by going through every last book in the library and ridding himself of every volume he deemed inferior.

The pile of discards contained more of those wretched obscure novels Eisley had been so obsessed with. The damn things seemed to be multiplying.

Maximus: Hearing a book fall in the library caught his attention. Looking up from the barrel of an antique, looking out towards the hallway as though he could somehow see what was going on from the other side of the dining table.

He disappeared, reappearing in the doorway of the library, hands behind his back to hide his cigarette.

"Are you alright, m'lord?"

Xavier: Xavier's hair was far too tousled for a man that had simply been going through books but it was a reflection of his frustration.

"Who needs five copies of Lolita!? It's not a rare, priceless work of which precious few copies exist, it was published only last year!"

Maximus: "Are they first editions?" he frowned. Smoke began to appear over his head.

Xavier: "Only one, the rest are copies you could get at any bookshop in the country! In the world even! Did he really need that many tomes devoted to some man fucking a child? Or was it simply because Nabakov is Russian and he was obsessed with Russians?"

He paused his tirade as he noticed and smelled the smoke. "You know, Fairchild, as a former smoker and still occasional smoker and demon with a supernatural sense of smell, there really is no need to hide your habit."

Maximus: Slowly, firmly, his cheek was bitten into, if only to withhold his smile. There was something about his master's rants, and the precious fact that he was not their target, which absolutely humored him to his core.

And the mention of his habit caused him to duck his head, which did nothing but highlight his fought smile.

"M'lord." Thank you. His hands were brought from hiding. "The first editions will be worth money someday. I promise you that. The rest can be kindle."

Xavier: "I can steal a first edition in fifty years and get the money then. For now...." He tossed the book in his hand on the discard pile. "Lucifer deliver me from the Russians. This obsession of his wasn't limited to Nabakov. You see this?"

He pointed to two stacks on the table. "Four copies of War and Peace and six—six!—of Anna Karenina! Why!?"

Maximus: "What was he looking for exactly?" He crossed the library in search of the first editions. Each were placed in a separate pile out of his master's reach.

Xavier: "Meaning? Companionship? Enlightenment? Hell only knows."

Maximus would have to work fast, Xavier was prepared to throw everything into the fireplace.

Maximus: With his master's back turned, the small stack of first editions were brought to his room in a blink, left on his nightstand. He'd returned just as quickly, and set to task collecting everything else. The rest would be for the fire. He'd much rather burn them in the driveway.

"Canapes this evening, or a crown roast? Either way, I'd like to practice mixing martinis."

Xavier: Xavier quit frowning at the bookshelves the moment Maximus mentioned canapés.

“Does canapés mean pastry? Because if so then yes. Yes to the martinis as well.”

Maximus: "I was thinking along the lines of smoked salmon mousse on cucumber and deviled eggs, but - I should have known you would want pastry." His toy soldier smiled towards the fire. His cigarette was brought to his lips to cease such nonsense.

Xavier: “Is both an option or is that pushing my luck?” he asked with a smile.

Maximus: "Whatever you desire I'll give you."

Xavier: “In that case, I would like to put in a request for pastry along with those deviled eggs.”

Maximus: "A vol au vent? Mine are usually lopsided."

Xavier: “There is no wrong way to consume puff pastry.”

Maximus: "Then I shall take care that your belief remains after this evening."

Xavier: “I’m certain it wi—more War and Peace! That’s it we’re destroying the library.”

Maximus: "Come now." The ridiculous pile of books had created a small hill in the hall. He crossed the library with the aim of stealing War and Peace from his master's hands.

"When you told me you wanted Russian literature gone, I had assumed - wrongly - you meant in the Russian language. This is my fault. I'll see to this myself."

Xavier: “I did! That’s exactly what I meant! I thought that’s all there was to this obsession of his! I never would have or could have imagined this!” He gestured wildly with the book. “No wonder he let the mansion fall into such disrepair, he was busy hoarding Tolstoy novels.”

Maximus: "We all have our obsessions. Some more tasteful than others." Gently, he reached around for the book, taking it from his line of sight.

Xavier: He let his butler take the book without argument. “You know those hidden compartments and alcoves he had? Forget supernatural objects, they’re probably full of vodka and nesting dolls.”

Maximus: "We'll find the body of his secret Russian wife eventually," he smiled. An expression which had loosened...somewhat, since his arrival.

Xavier: “Maybe that’s the reason for the obsession. Keep an eye out for remains.”

Maximus: "And scratching, yes. And hidden rooms and runaway vodka."

Xavier: “And the nesting dolls.”

Maximus: His butler ducked his head to conceal how fond his smile was becoming. So far, his master had remained true to his word. While there had been those before him to have made promises, Xavier Atlas had his humanity on his side. Something which, even if subconsciously, had eased some of the tension in his rigid frame.

His cold cigarette was given a glance.

"I should get back to work on the rifles, m'lord. Dinner will be at seven."

Xavier: The reduction in tension hadn't gone unnoticed, but just now all Xavier could think about was the state of this library.

He did see that smile though. That was something cheerful to cling to in the midst of all this madness.

"I'll be down promptly. One of these days perhaps we'll have ourselves a priest hunt. That's something to look forward to."

Maximus: "You're only saying that because Mr. Eisley isn't around to kill again."

Xavier: "And oh, how I wish he was today. I'd bring him back and drown him in dust and Russian novels."

Maximus: Ah. Maximus needed his quick bow and disappearance act. Otherwise, his master would have caught him in a sudden fluttery laugh, one which he expelled in the kitchen.

Xavier: Xavier entertained himself for a few glorious moments with the thought of killing that tasteless hack all over again in a variety of scenarios.

"If only," he said to himself with a wistful sigh before getting back to throwing books on his pile.

Maximus: The guns were returned to their respective stands and mounts. One more polished mark of pride. Another cigarette was ignited. The radio volume was increased to better dampen the sound of his singing. The music of today wasn't nearly as tasteful as the jazz and ragtime behind them.

Xavier: At some point during Xavier's frenzied book throwing, it occurred to him to start a list of all the titles missing from the library that he wanted to add.

In his view, there was a shameful omission of all the British greats. Not to mention the rest of the world. What sort of library didn't have a single copy of Hamlet?

Maximus: Maximus was blissfully unaware of his master's continued frenzy, having assumed he had quelled some of his rage. He was too busy with dinner, singing Chattanooga Choo-Choo to himself in almost full voice, hindered by the cigarette between his lips he refused to put out. Deviled eggs and chicken pesto vol au vents.

They needed a proper garden and chicken coop. The yard had been cleaned, but the house was not yet complete. One item at a time, he reminded himself.

Xavier: Xavier paused his furious scribbling and turned toward the door. Was that Maximus' voice?

He put down his pen and paper and listened intently. He could hear the radio downstairs, the steady sound of a knife hitting a cutting board, the movements of a meal being prepared, and over it all, Maximus. Singing.

Moving as silently as a spirit, he made his way toward the door and poked his head out.

Maximus: His nasally timbre bled into his singing, though somehow clear of rasp otherwise present in the mumbling of songs. He would have kicked himself had he known what his master was doing. Rather, chopped chicken, onions, and butter made it to the heated pan.

Xavier: Xavier had at least some suspicion that that was exactly how his butler would react if he knew he'd been caught singing, so rather than get closer and risk discovery, he stayed where he was. It was...nice, to see Maximus relaxing. Even if it was only in private.

Maximus: A quick check of the time. Not yet for the pastry. The filling was removed from the heat.

Dinner would be on time, as it was every night. He had pulled the pastry from the refrigerator too soon. Only the choicest towering pieces, filled to the brim, were presented at the dining table. A white wine was served alongside in their new crystal.

Xavier: Having indulged himself, Xavier returned to his task, smiling the entire time. That rage over the Russian novel infestation was lessening by the moment.

By the time he went downstairs for dinner he was positively cheerful.

Maximus: His servant stood patiently by the table. He smiled in greeting.

"A successful evening, m'lord?"

Xavier: "Extremely," said Xavier, beaming as he sat and unfolded his napkin on his lap. "The small hill has become a small mountain and I've started a list."

Maximus: "I expect we'll be going to another store soon," he said while pouring the wine.

Xavier: "Probably more than one if the bookshop in town doesn't have all the volumes I require to get the library up to snuff."

Maximus: "Only in English?"

Xavier: "English, French, Spanish, German, and Italian."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord." The bottle was placed away, and he returned to his standing position.

Xavier: Xavier sampled the wine and gave an approving hum. "Mmm, good choice. And the pastry looks beautiful."

Maximus: Of course these do. "Thank you, m'lord. Just a little patience was required."

Xavier: "Like with many of the worthy things in life." He selected a vol au vent and tasted it, a huge grin immediately breaking out across his face.

Well done, it said.

Maximus: That was...what he wanted to see. Something more than a satisfactory job and making it another night in peace. This was more significant. A smile of a job well done stroked his ego.

Aware of his master's penchant for conversation, he continued. "Which titles are you considering?"

Xavier: Mouth full, Xavier pulled his list from his pocket and offered it before pointing at the nearest chair.

Maximus: Moments like these, despite how many there had been for the past weeks, still rendered him awkward. He took the offered seat without protest and unfolded the list.

"I'm expecting to find Dante Alighieri."

Xavier: Xavier nodded and ate another vol au vent. Of course. Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory.

Maximus: "As much as you are straying from Russian anythings, might I make a suggestion?"

Xavier: Another nod. "Anyone but Tolstoy."

Maximus: "Have you heard of Ayn Rand, m'lord?"

Xavier: "I kept getting distracted during The Fountainhead. She does love to ramble on."

Maximus: "He reminds me of you."

Xavier: "Because I live to spite God?"

Maximus: His gaze fell, but only for a moment. "In a Hell filled with Peter Keatings."

Xavier: Xavier gave Maximus a small smile and reached into his pocket for his pen. "Go on then, add the rambling Russian. English translation only."

Maximus: And so he would, writing the title and author in quick fluid cursive.

"What are your thoughts, m'lord, on having a chicken coop?"

Xavier: “As a lover of omelets and chicken Marsala, very favorable.”

Maximus: Excellent. Less shopping in town and efficiency once his garden bore evidence of his labor.

He suddenly felt an urge to play his violin. He wanted to give his master something more than the day-to-day.

"Would you like some more wine?" he asked instead.

Xavier: "Why, yes, thank you. Pour one for yourself and join me."

Maximus: "I...have my dinner in the kitchen, m'lord." Though he would pour an extra glass of wine to comply.

Xavier: "Bring it and have it in the dining room," he said, smile softening a bit.

Maximus: Gently, he sighed. If he didn't know better, he could fool himself into hearing a plea in his master's tone, as though their roles had reversed.

He excused himself, returning with a plate of equally filled...and considerably lopsided pastry, deviled eggs, and filling on toast.

"The illusion is destroyed."

Xavier: "What illusion?" Asked around another blissful mouthful of pastry. "I promise I will try the deviled eggs, I just have an extreme weakness for pastry. Must be the Englishman in me."

Maximus: Then...have a leaning tower of pesto, he offered, slowly taking one of his master's paprika covered eggs. A trade.

Xavier: Leaning perhaps, but perfectly magnificent, as Xavier's face clearly reflected. If he wasn't certain Maximus would turn the color of the paprika on those eggs, Xavier would be raining praise.

Maximus: Maximus contentedly ate in silence. In the supposed safety of the Atlas home, his rigidity of the Plaza lapsed in the form of open-faced sandwich making. Carefully and quietly cutting his deviled eggs to suitable size for two pieces of garlic toast. Having requested a servant dine with him, he might as well eat as he would in private.

"You never cease to surprise me, m'lord." Said after a sip of sauvignon blanc.

Xavier: Xavier thought nothing of Maximus' sandwich making; in fact, he welcomed it. The way he saw things, every small bit of relaxation and comfort from his butler just meant that he was beginning to trust his surroundings--and him--more and more.

He smiled at the comment. "Do I?" he asked, finally trying an egg and humming in approval.

Maximus: "Yes," he said, keeping his head up as he spoke. "Tomorrow, this might be for naught. Tomorrow you might burn everything I possess. You might take back everything you've told me. I've been gullible with you. I've been through the hands of many owners, and still," he shrugged, "and still I'm here, enjoying myself."

Xavier: "I'm glad that you are," he said softly. "I know that it's far too soon to scrub those thoughts from your head, but I am glad you're enjoying yourself. I hope to make that a permanent condition for you."

He took a sip of wine. "What would you say to putting a record player in here?"

Maximus: He would have told any servant that appeared in the summons this exact line.

He had reached for his glass and paused. "A record player? That would...be lovely, m'lord."

Xavier: "I thought so. A grand, beautiful one to fit the room. And one for the sitting room as well."

Maximus: His smile revealed teeth. "Then we must also find you the best records."

Xavier: He smiled back. "Yes we must. Which ones are you fond of?"

Maximus: There he went again.

"I...enjoy...jazz, m'lord, and classical."

Xavier: “Then we shall get your favorites from both genres.”

Maximus: "What do you prefer?"

Xavier: “I’m fond of jazz and classical myself. Especially Tchaikovsky, ironically enough.”

Maximus: "I'm partial to Paganini, Vivaldi, Bazzini...Glenn Miller."

Xavier: “We’ll get them all. I’m rather fond of Glenn Miller myself. Benny Goodman as well.”

Maximus: His smile began to fade. "In New York, you told Mr. Aello you're not musically inclined. Is that true, m'lord?"

Xavier: “As far as playing ability, yes. I tried learning the piano once and was vastly disappointed that I didn’t immediately turn into Chopin.”

Maximus: "No one wants to be Chopin. Not even Chopin."

Xavier: Xavier laughed. “God and the Devil love the man. He played and composed like a piano murdered his entire family.”

Maximus: "Bazzini wanted to prove he was better than Paganini. They either sold their souls or were nephilim."

Xavier: “Seems like Bazzini had a complex. He probably sold his soul.”

Maximus: His servant suddenly ducked his chin and nibbled absently at his dinner.

"Did you...sell your soul?"

Xavier: He shook his head. “Not in the traditional way. My soul was always bound for the pit. There was no need to expedite the process.”

Maximus: "Over revenge?"

Xavier: He nodded. “It’s said that any man who pursues vengeance should dig two graves, one for himself and one for his enemy. I dug many, many graves.”

Maximus: "Was the revenge honorable?" For some reason he was looking for excuses.

Xavier: "To me it was. But as I was the one exacting it, perhaps I'm biased."

Maximus: "Most likely, m'lord, but one day perhaps, I shall hear your reasoning."

Xavier: "Yes, perhaps." And you'll tell me my revenge was a fool's errand, just like my father did.

Maximus: After a moment, he gently added, "Only when you trust me."

Xavier: Xavier smiled softly. “I do already. More than anyone in years. Some things merely need to be worked up to.”

Maximus: "In years? It's been two months."

Xavier: “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m not terribly...social.”

Maximus: "You're settling into a new home."

Xavier: “Even settled, I’ve never been the social type.”

Xavier: “The tailor’s. They’re terribly fussy about being on time for appointments and I’d hate to annoy them. They’re the best in the city.”

Once outside the station, Xavier hailed a taxi and gave the address to the driver in practiced Italian after exchanging cheerful greetings.

Maximus: He remained silent during their brief walk towards the road. He appreciated their surroundings and fresh Mediterranean atmosphere.

In the taxi, with the driver's attention elsewhere, he leaned over. "Your Italian is sharp, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier beamed with what was very obviously pride. “Why thank you, Maximus. It’s a testament to how much time I spend here, purchasing clothing and otherwise.”

Maximus: "I'm sure." He straightened and stared out the window, but not for long. "M'lord, why do you not call me Fairchild now?"

Xavier: That gave Xavier pause. He hadn’t noticed until this very moment that he’d dropped that small formality. How long had it been?

“We’ve been together for a couple of months now. I daresay we’ve gotten to know each other a decent bit. Felt...right. I can always go back, of course, if you prefer.”

Maximus: "I'm...not sure I should have an opinion, m'lord. I know what you are to me, and that is unwavering."

Xavier: “You know you do, and that I value it.” He smiled. “It doesn’t bother you then? That I call you Maximus?”

Maximus: "I... don't know, m'lord. I don't feel offended. If your lordship prefers Maximus, then I have no objections."

Xavier: “I’m glad to hear it. But if you do find you have an objection in the future, whatever it may be, I do hope you’ll tell me. I’d hate to cause you discomfort.”

Maximus: "...You really mean that, don't you?" he gently asked.

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “I do,” he said softly.

Maximus: Something to ponder later. For now, "Do you have a middle name, m'lord?"

Xavier: “I don’t, as a matter of fact. My father didn’t bless me or my brother with one.”

Maximus: "Your brother?" He turned more in his master's direction out of respect.

Xavier: “Indeed. He’s the elder.”

Maximus: "Is he...?"

Xavier: “Dead? Quite. Several years after me.”

Maximus: "I assumed as much. But I mean to ask if he is at all like you."

Xavier: “Only in one sense, and even then in the loosest way. We’re rather polar opposites, have been always.”

Maximus: "An angel, then?" he dared smirk.

Xavier: “In the metaphorical sense, and by the estimation of many, I’m sure,” he said with a chuckle.

Maximus: "I wouldn't have guessed you to be the baby. You carry yourself as an older brother, or only child."

Xavier: “In many ways, ways I will tell you about someday, I was the only child. But only to him. Not to anyone else.”

Maximus: "'Curiouser and curiouser,'" he said to the window.

Xavier: Xavier grinned to himself. “Most things with me tend to be.”

Maximus: "I don't think you're as complicated as all that, m'lord."

Xavier: “Perhaps not. We all like to think we’re more complicated than we actually are. Me, I’m....layered.”

Maximus: He turned his gaze on his master. "You're curious, but complicated?" He was willing to accept punishment for his forwardness.

Xavier: “Curious, complicated, and multi-layered. Like a demonic cake.”

Maximus: "I would like to... politely disagree."

Xavier: “You don’t think I’m a cake?”

Maximus: There was a quiet war being waged against himself, as so often of late, to prevent himself from smiling.

"Hmm." He needed to look away. What beautiful scenery.

Xavier: Xavier laughed and shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no. I’m but a simple rich man.”

Maximus: "You're not simple, m'lord, but you're not complicated as all that. You want things and you take them."

Xavier: “So I’m straightforward if nothing else. Not a bad thing to be, really.”

Maximus: "No. Not at all, m'lord."

Xavier: “I’m glad you also think so,” he said with a smile. With time, he hoped to learn what Maximus was apart from gloriously efficient.

“The shop isn’t far. Another two streets.”

Maximus: "You're missing warm tones in your wardrobe. A set of tails wouldn't hurt either."

Xavier: “I agree. And I suppose I could stand to add in some warmer reds and browns. Can’t wear black all the time.”

Maximus: "No. That's my area, m'lord," he smiled.

Xavier: “And you pull it off marvelously.”

Maximus: "Are you flirting with me, m'lord?" he whispered.

Xavier: “Would it scandalize you if I was?”

Maximus: "I have no reputation in which to tarnish."

Xavier: “In that case, I am flirting with you.” How do you feel about that, Maximus?

Maximus: He felt betrayed. He felt surprised and yet expectant of this moment. He was elated and in mourning.

There were butterflies in his stomach.

"We must find you some friends, m'lord," he managed to smile. It was the only thing he could think to say.

Xavier: “I have friends. Massimo for example.” The tailor whose name was on a sign above the shop they stopped in front of.

Maximus: "A friend with your measurements. Very good, m'lord." The subject seemed dropped for now. He didn't know whether or not he felt relieved.

Xavier: “My thoughts exactly.” Xavier paid the driver and asked him to wait, promising him a big tip at the end of the day.

The driver was more than happy to oblige, even coming around to open the door for them.

Maximus: Very rarely did he wish to know what his masters were thinking. Very rarely, when he could, was it anything worthwhile. The consequences were always severe. With Xavier he felt regret. Moments like this being unable to glimpse were small tortures.

The shop door was held open for his master, eyes forward as usual. His black bowler hat was removed as they stepped through, remaining behind as he had momentarily forgotten he was to participate.

Xavier: “Signore Rossmara!” They were met with Massimo’s booming greeting before they were even all the way through the door.

Despite his short stature and rather broad frame, the tailor looked impeccable. A walking gentleman’s magazine cover with a jovial face and bon vivant spirit.

“Massimo,” Xavier said fondly, allowing himself to be pulled into a hearty handshake. “Are you well? How’s business?”

“Stupendous now that you’re here!” The tailor noticed Maximus. “Who is this? Have you brought me a new client?”

“I have. Massimo, this is my assistant, Mr. Townsend.”

“Why hello, Signore Townsend! Welcome to Massimo’s!”

Maximus: The human was studied during his rough greeting. Maximus became David with a charming smile. He reached for Massimo's hand without prompt.

"Buongiorno. A pleasure to meet you."

Xavier: Maximus’ hand was shaken enthusiastically. “Buongiorno, Signore Townsend, buongiorno! Welcome to my shop! We’re the best tailor in all Milano. Anything you need, we can make for you here. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for today?” His question was addressed to both of them.

“I’d like Mr. Townsend to be fitted for a few suits. One casual, a set of livery, and two formal suits.”

Massimo’s eyes practically gleamed.

Maximus: He dared give his master a look. That was months’ worth of wages he would be refusing from this day forth. Surely, his gaze said everything while Massimo's attention lingered elsewhere.

"Be sure to expand Lord Rossmara's pockets. They seem to be bottomless."

Xavier: Xavier simply smiled back. He had no intention of allowing Maximus to refuse anything, suits or wages. His butler would simply have to put up with being paid and well dressed.

“I thank Our Lord every day for it, Signore Townsend,” Massimo laughed, gesturing for them to follow him.

In short order he had Maximus up on the podium to be measured and had an assistant selecting samples.

Maximus: Having someone other than his master so near kept his entire being on edge. Until the measuring tape fell away, he barely breathed. A glance over his shoulder was directed towards his master. He gauged his reaction to a young male human so near his property.

"Have you found suitable cufflinks, m'lord?" His tone of voice gave nothing away.

Xavier: Xavier could sense Maximus’ discomfort and made sure to stay in his butler’s line of sight. With any luck he’s be able to offer silent reassurance.

Fortunately for all involved, Massimo was the consummate professional; he worked quickly and respectfully and was done in half the time it would have taken a less experienced man.

“I will in due course. Which reminds me, we shall also be looking at ties and accessories, Massimo.”

“Very good, Signore Rossmara, I will have Luciano bring you a varied selection of everything.”

Maximus: His anxiety only lasted as long as his master remained out of sight. Everything from last night to this moment was not at all what he had expected. He'd been too informal for the past month. At some point he was going to be paying the price. He felt as though he were tipping from a narrow window.

"You need a gold pair," he said softly.

Xavier: Both Massimo and his assistant nodded in agreement.

Xavier smiled. “Bring the gold first then, Luciano. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“Si, signore.”

Maximus: "Is that all you need of me at the moment, signore?"

Xavier: Massimo nodded again. “Yes, Signore Townsend, you may step down. The dressing rooms are through that curtain there.” He pointed to the right before taking a handful of hangers with suit jackets and pants on them from Luciano. “These are all casual suits. Please try them on to see how you like them.”

Maximus: "Grazie," he smiled. One last glance to his master before turning his back to them. He preferred the monochromatic outfits. Gravitated towards black, gray, and dark green, which were hung separately from the rest. Only the gray double-breasted required special touch. A new blazer wouldn't hurt, he thought. I won't be getting it here. Something to look forward to in town once his pockets were heavy. More bowties for his casual workdays, he added to his mental list. This was all a little extravagant, but he wouldn't deny the wishes of his owner.

Xavier: While Maximus dressed, Xavier selected cuff links from the velvet tray Luciano brought for him. Something simple and elegant for the everyday and something more ornate for evening wear. Perhaps two pairs for each.

Meanwhile, Massimo’s attention was on his newest client. “How is everything fitting, signore?” he called to Maximus.

Maximus: "The dark green one is large, but not by an entire size."

Xavier: “Would you like the dark green one? If so, we’ll pin it and set it aside.”

Maximus: "I would, yes. Actually, I think the sleeves on the gray one, here, is slightly too long."

Xavier: “Bene. We shall do the green first and then the gray. Luciano, the pins.” The tailor turned to Xavier. “Have you selected your cuff links, Signore Rossmara?”

Xavier nodded. “I believe so. I await Mr. Townsend’s opinion.”

Maximus: Words which caught his ear sharply. "Nothing too gaudy, m'lord, and I will approve."

Xavier: Xavier laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it. I went for something elegant and understated.”

Maximus: "Is this true, Massimo?"

Xavier: “They’re beautiful choices, Signore Townsend. Very fitting for his lordship.”

Maximus: "Fitting," he echoed. "Please show me, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier waited until Maximus came out of the fitting room and gestured to a small velvet tray containing his choices.

“I await your verdict.”

Maximus: His tie was adjusted for the fifth time as he returned. A set of silver and gold were picked up and inspected as soon as they were within reach.

"These are fitting, yes, but not at all what I would call understated."

Xavier: “Those are the evening ones.” He pointed to another pair. “These are the understated ones, for everyday wear.”

Maximus: "What do you think of these?" A pair of round silver and onyx. "I think these are very suiting."

Xavier: Xavier examined them and nodded in approval. “Agreed. I should find a tie to go with them.”

Maximus: "A black textured tie would pair perfectly." He turned towards the tailor for response.

Xavier: Massimo was already asking Luciano to bring a selection of ties, and bringing another tray laden with cuff links for Maximus to choose from.

Maximus: Nothing ornate or above his station. One set of silver with braided edge, one set of gold bars. His fingers lingered over button shaped mother of pearl, but said nothing.

"It's your turn to be lavished."

Xavier: The lingering was noticed and noted.

“And you as well. It’s time for ties. Select a couple for each suit.”

Maximus: "I can get ties in Paradise. Are you certain, m'lord?" Only for his ears.

Xavier: “I’m certain, Maximus,” Xavier replied just as softly. “No tie in Paradise can compare to the ties here.”

Maximus: "You're too kind." Then he would do as commanded, choosing various textures of black neckties. If insisting, he would stray towards gray and white.

"Now, I must insist you allow the tailor to see to you."

Xavier: Xavier let Maximus choose whatever his heart desired, secretly eyeing a few ties he thought would suit his butler. He’d ask Massimo to set them aside when they got to the dressing room.

Speaking of.

“Yes, of course. We need those warm tones and those tails. Massimo—“

“Yes, Signore Atlas. I’ll pull pieces right away.”

Maximus: "Should I ever know you that well someday," he smiled. "Be sure to put those tails to good work this year. The house will be ready for dinner parties as soon as we settle the remaining furniture."

Xavier: He grinned. “I think you’re well on your way. This very morning you timed breakfast precisely with my awakening.” To him that meant they were well on their way toward establishing the intimacy that came with living under the same roof.

“Once my tails and furniture are in order I should get some friends so I have someone to throw a dinner party for.”

Maximus: His morning breakfast had been an apology for the night before. Still, it had pleased him, and so it would continue.

"Speaking of. I look forward to seeing to the frames today. We must find a suitable artist."

Xavier: “As am I. They’ll be the perfect finishing touch for the drawing room. As far as the artist, we might be able to find an excellent one on this trip. Do you know any good portrait artists, Massimo?”

The tailor hummed while he considered. “Not personally, but I will have Luciano find you a suitable one.”

Maximus: "Molto gentile da parte tua, signore." So rare it was to speak his mother's native tongue.

Xavier: Well now Massimo looked positively delighted. Maximus had officially endeared himself into becoming a top client.

“Of course, signore, of course! Anything for you and Signore Rossmara! Luciano and I will find you the best portrait painter, not just in Milano, but all Italia.”

Maximus: The exclamation jarred him from his guard. Ducked head and smile followed the promise. Gratitude in his third language. A look given to his master from behind his lashes.

Xavier: Xavier was grinning like the cat that got the canary. He just knew coming here was a good idea and there was the proof.

“Your diligence and dedication are much appreciated, Massimo, thank you.”

“You’re too kind, Signore Rossmara, too kind. Ah, here we are.” He accepted some hangers from Luciano. “These are the tails, Signore Rossmara. If you’ll step into the dressing room, please.”

Maximus: Maximus' smile remained well after his master's disappearance into the dressing room. The room felt brighter, wider than when they had stepped inside. Days like today reminded him of Crawford. The tall, lanky man too old for this world. A man too quiet for his own good. A benevolent master, most of the time. He dared miss him.

His thoughts swam away from him, his eyes somewhere far away when Atlas returned.

Xavier: "What do you think?" Xavier asked as he emerged from the dressing room and stopped in front of the mirror, turning this way and that to study his reflection. "They'll need adjusting of course."

Luciano always had to pull stops a size to big and trousers that were too short; Xavier's height and shoulders always demanded adjustments.

Maximus: "I should have tried my hand at clothing years ago. I doubt I'd be trusted by the next-" The smile was more sheepish than honest.

Xavier: "Well you're certainly trusted now." He did a turn. "Do I pass muster?"

Maximus: "Not with those trousers, m'lord."

Xavier: “Offend? Not at all. It doesn’t surprise me, either. I know I’m relatively young by demonic standards.”

Maximus: "I don't think by much. I'm...young, too."

Xavier: “Probably by a decent bit. I died in 1935.”

Maximus: "I..." he swallowed, "it was 1899." He was grateful for the waiter. Barolo and ossobucco for himself, ordered after Atlas.

Xavier: Xavier chose the house white and the tortellini and a risotto for them for share.

“About ten years before I was born,” he said thoughtfully. “And look at us now. Two young demons about to enjoy some exquisite food in Milan.”

Maximus: "I believe you're my youngest master," he smiled, one of his more honest. "Among other things, I'm not afraid to say."

Xavier: “An honor indeed,” he said with a grin.

Maximus: "You can be so brazen."

Xavier: “It’s definitely been said before.”

He gave their waiter a nod of thanks when their wine was brought over. “I’ve made a whole life out of it.”

Maximus: "Do you ever regret not hiring a human? A vampire?" Today had gone so well, broken so many rules given by himself and others. He dared laugh at the absurdity. "I'm going to wake up tomorrow at the Crawford house."

Xavier: “Vampire? Lucifer, save us all.” Xavier shook his head and sipped his wine. “Vampires are too involved in their own affairs and humans require too much explanation. I made the ideal choice and got the ideal candidate, and the only place you’ll be waking up is your own bed.”

Maximus: "Right, because..." He began picking at his fingers underneath the table. A new little tick. He could scarcely hear the bustling of Milanese over his own clamoring negativity. His thoughts had been etched with every new master. Too much for Atlas to carve away at once.

"I'm grateful, truly."

Xavier: As much as he’d like to carve away all those dreadful thoughts at once, he was quite satisfied chipping away a bit at a time. “And I’m grateful to you for setting my house to such terrific order.”

Maximus: The next exhale straightened his spine. He was relaxed, despite his proper appearance.

"I look forward to your first dinner party. The house is something to be proud of."

Xavier: “It certainly is. You’ll have to help me scrounge up some guests.”

Maximus: "The most prominent figures in Paradise." Of course. "Establish an unforgettable rapport."

Xavier: “Not to sound arrogant but I believe I am the most prominent figure in Paradise.”

Maximus: "It wouldn't hurt to have connections. The road ahead isn't clear."

Xavier: “I suppose not, although I am tempted to exist beneath a veil of mystery.”

Maximus: "If something were to happen to me, I'd rather burn knowing you'll have options."

Xavier: Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.

“I suppose I could invite the less prominent but moderately well-off citizens of Paradise for a dinner party.”

Maximus: A well-reached smile. "Very good, m'lord. That's the spirit."

Xavier: “I’m sure the whole town has been dying to know what has become of Damien Eisley’s neglected mansion.”

Maximus: "Your updates will upset a few, but we'll turn them around."

Xavier: “Only those with no taste will be upset.”

Maximus: "You're impeccable, m'lord?" A brave tease with crinkling around his eyes.

Xavier: Xavier grinned into his wine glass. “Undoubtedly.”

Maximus: "I will not argue. Neither as servant nor assistant."

Xavier: He laughed softly. “Jolly good then. We shall be impeccable together thanks to Massimo.”

Maximus: Just as casually, said with well-considered ease, "Will your father be proud of your progress?"

Xavier: “Who’s to say,” he said with a shrug. “The man is inscrutable. I usually take his silence as approval.”

Maximus: "Is a lot of your relationship a guessing game?" Today, with a tingle down his spine, he would not apologize. Just to see.

Xavier: “For the most part. I gave up asking him questions, he never gives straight answers. Like all ancient beings I suppose.”

Maximus: "They want us to figure out the puzzle for ourselves. Either that, or their language restricted what is commonplace today."

Xavier: “With him it’s the former I think. He loves riddles, it’s exhausting.”

Maximus: "I appreciate the silence. It's its own riddle."

Xavier: “I’d rather the silence to be perfectly frank. Leaves more room for interpretation and gives more leeway. If I do something he isn’t pleased with he has to live with it in a way, because he never told me not to.”

He smiled again. “He loves his riddles, I love my loopholes.”

Maximus: "I prefer silence to riddles I know I will fail to interpret. Sabotaged from their first syllable for a passive thrill of seeing me fail and punished."

Now his eyes fell. "Forgive me. I'm - I'm being - I forget myself and it's unlike me. I swear."

Xavier: “I got a fair bit of those myself when I was on the rack. As if he needed more excuses to torment me.”

Like so many times before, Xavier’s expression softened. “I have nothing to forgive. You’re free to speak your mind with me.”

Maximus: "When you say that, m'lord, understand why you are unlike my former masters."

Xavier: He nodded. “I know I am,” he said softly. “In more ways than I probably know.”

Maximus: "It goes to everyone's head." His voice would not carry over the mortal city hum, but enough weight for a demon's ear.

Xavier: “Most everyone doesn’t have their humanity intact.” Sometimes he even thought it was heightened. There were days he just felt too fucking human.

Maximus: "But that-" He leaned away, silent as their plates were placed in front of them like silent offerings. Their waiter bowed and turned away, as though fully aware of his interruption.

Xavier: “I love European waitstaff,” he said after the waiter had been thanked and had moved away. “They’re so aware.”

Maximus: This time, his smile was more familiar, more sterile. His attention would fall upon his meal.

Xavier: Xavier knew that smile all too well. That was Maximus’ butler smile. Still lovely, but not as lovely as his very rare genuine smiles.

“Trying to predict the future is a fool’s errand but I can say with some confidence that the only thing that has gone to my head is my prowess for theft.”

Maximus: "In the past two months, I've only witnessed this prowess once, m'lord. Are you sure?"

Xavier: “We’ve been preoccupied,” he said, giving Maximus a quick, charming grin. “But be assured I’ll be taking advantage of any opportunity that presents itself.”

Maximus: "Just as soon as I can find someone with an agenda against me?" His master's smile had coaxed a more favorable expression, one more teasing and relaxed.

Xavier: Xavier grinned widely. So Maximus had noticed Xavier's Robin Hood-esque defense of his honor. "Precisely. All agendas against you will be met with thieving force."

Maximus: Of course he had, though he'd seen the gesture merely as an excuse to snatch essentials for the mansion. "Well, you've brought this half-breed home. There will be no prejudice here."

Xavier: "There certainly will not. And if you see any, tell me and it will be dealt with swiftly."

Maximus: "I'm used to it, m'lord."

Xavier: "So am I. All the more reason not to let it stand."

Maximus: "No one will belittle you. Your demeanor is too regal."

Xavier: "It should be, I bought myself a viscountcy. I'm an honest to goodness lord."

Maximus: Maximus tried to conceal his smile with a sip of wine.

Xavier: He could try as hard as he wanted, but Xavier caught it nonetheless. "That would also annoy my stepmother. Something else to cling to."

Maximus: "She's long gone. She can't hurt you anymore." He was still too young. Just allowing things to fly from his mouth without thinking. He debated on apologizing, but waited for his master's reaction.

Xavier: Xavier smiled wistfully and toasted the air. "Thank God and the Devil for that, too. Long may she and my father stay on the rack."

Maximus: No punishment? How much was he allowed to get away with?

"Have you seen them? There?"

Xavier: "I've seen him. He went first so I had more time to look. Haven't found her yet. Until I do I'll content myself with dancing on her grave."

Maximus: "Could she be a wraith? Or...moved on already?"

Xavier: "Old hag is too stubborn to move on peacefully. She'll cling out of pure spite and consider herself a martyr for being sent to the pit."

Maximus: "I could find out for you, m'lord. If you really want to know the truth."

Xavier: "Perhaps in due time. I rather like the thought of her being tormented for tens of hundreds of years before I find her and she has to watch me watch her be ripped to shreds." Another wistful smile. "Warms my little black heart."

Maximus: "Are you concerned that is not the case?"

Xavier: "Not particularly. If it is, lovely. If not, I also like the thought of dragging her there myself."

Maximus: "Is that possible?"

Xavier: "I don't see why it couldn't be. If something is tying her to this mortal coil it wouldn't be terribly difficult to sever the connection."

Maximus: "Oh. I thought you meant from - from Heaven."

Xavier: Xavier shook his head. "Oh no, my dear, no. The hag isn't getting up there."

Maximus: Just a playful banter, but still he enjoyed being called dear. 'Be a dear' was the most he'd ever been given.

Another moment of vulnerability stolen by the waiter. This time, he was grateful.

Xavier: He'd scarcely noticed the slip, but now that those gates had been opened the endearment would no doubt be making regular appearances.

"Ah, glorious. Grazie," he told the waiter, inhaling deeply. "Bless the Italians."

Maximus: "Careful, you'll burn me," he smiled.

Xavier: His smile was met with a laugh, which in turn was followed by a blissful sigh at the first mouthful of food.

Maximus: His meal swelled his thoughts with memories of his mother's cooking. Sweet sentimentality through rose tinted lens. His manners were dropped long enough to mop his plate with bread. Even then, done so with elegant fingers. Not a drop spilt.

"Thank you, m'lord. For everything today."

Xavier: Maximus wasn't alone in his temporary lack of manners; it would've been criminal to waste a single bit of sauce or of the lovely bread on the table.

"You're more than welcome, Maximus. Happy to do it."

Maximus: "I'm looking forward to seeing to the frames. It feels overdue."

Xavier: "It does. Perhaps I've been avoiding thinking about the matter. Two months on and something about Aello still unsettles me."

Maximus: "He was probably harmless. No more a threat than we were to him."

Xavier: "There's threats and there's threats. I'm not entirely certain he's human."

Maximus: "Neither do I, but we don't slaughter everyone."

Xavier: "True enough, and we won't. We'll just enjoy the frames and avoid him."

Maximus: "Then are you ready, m'lord?"

Xavier: Xavier took a deep breath and nodded. "I am indeed. Unto the breach."

Maximus: The fabric was gathered and tucked under his arm. They reappeared somewhere in California sans an unforgiving sky and unwelcoming stench. His handkerchief was returned to his nose without mention. This had become his routine.

Xavier: The stench was as familiar as the layout of Milan in Xavier’s mind, only a million times less pleasant. He missed it already.

“Disgraceful,” he sighed.

Maximus: "M'lord?" More nasally than usual in an attempt to conceal his bleeding.

Xavier: "I fail to see what benefit is derived from our kind smelling like sulfur. We already have black eyes. Surely that's enough identification."

Maximus: "This is meant to be a punishment, in every sense of the word."

Xavier: "More of an annoyance than a punishment in my view."

Maximus: The piece of cloth was folded onto itself and tucked away. He would rather bleed than leave his master sullied. This had long ago been deemed his duty by Shore, and no demon in his place had ever questioned his generosity.

Xavier: Assuming Maximus had put his handkerchief away because it was too stained, Xavier offered his own. "Let us set this fabric somewhere safe and get on with the frame inspection."

Maximus: "Oh. No, thank you. I couldn't." Though he'd yet to realize a fresh bead of blood had begun its trickle downward.

"Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "You could." He gestured at his butler's nose. "You're still bleeding, take it."

Maximus: He wouldn't deny him twice, as much as he wanted to. A quiet thank you uttered as he took the ivory cloth and placed it to his nose.

Xavier: Xavier gave an approving nod. “Excellent. Now.” He looked around. “Should we walk or see to a taxi?”

Maximus: "I wouldn't mind the walk, m'lord. We've been in taxis all day."

Xavier: “Very true. In that case, allow me to help you with the fabric.”

Maximus: "I can't allow that, m'lord. I'm alright."

Xavier: “I insist. We’ve a bit of a walk ahead.”

Maximus: "You'll scuff your clothes."

Xavier: “Scuffs can be removed.”

Maximus: "Why must you argue with me?" Asked gently, of course.

Xavier: “It’s what I do,” he said with a smile, carefully taking half the fabric.

Maximus: The fabric was reluctantly released. His servant had no clue as to the blush, softest shade of pink, flush to his cheeks. As though this were submission for something far more intimate.

Xavier: Maximus might have been unaware of it, but Xavier certainly was not. No comment was made, but he silently committed it to memory, savoring every detail and nuance it brought to Maximus’ face. Such beautiful, delicate features his butler had.

“Very good,” he said softly, starting down the road and waiting for Maximus to fall into step beside him.

Maximus: Beside yes, but always by a half-step, just barely from eyeshot. A ghost meant to open doors and take coats from shoulders, to serve tea and renew plates as if from nowhere.

As they approached the warehouse, his butler appeared by the door.

Xavier: A ghost Xavier intended to make more corporeal. One of these days Maximus would comfortably walk by his side from place to place with scarcely a second thought; Xavier was determined to make it so.

He smiled and nodded in thanks as he stepped through the door and into the main office of his shipping warehouse. He exchanged a brief greeting with the middle-aged man at the desk, who'd immediately stood to attention.

"I should have two crates waiting for me, Greaves."

"Yes, your lordship, from New York. Sender Aello?"

Xavier nodded. "Those are the ones, yes. Where are they?"

"Finch put them in the secure holding room beside your office."

"Thank you, Greaves. Keep an eye on this fabric and mind you, don't let it get stained. It'll be the drapes in my drawing room before much longer."

Greaves nodded and relieved both of them from their burden. "Yes, your lordship."

"By the by, this is Townsend, my new assistant. Treat him as you would me."

Another nod from Greaves. "Yes, your lordship. Welcome, Mr. Townsend."

Maximus: A warehouse if ever there was one, but belonging to Xavier Atlas somehow made the ceilings higher, and the air crisp as though he were still outside in the December wind.

Greaves seemed well kept, despite his long years. Human, just as his master had said. Had they any idea of their employer?

His false name jerked his thoughts, and that which followed put a rod in his spine.

David Townsend, tall in posture and steady hands on his hat, bowed his head. The most polite smile one could muster without teeth followed without word.

Xavier: Greaves' tidiness and mannerisms reflected the way Xavier ran his business. The warehouse was large and busy, and though there was the buzz of conversation and occasional roar of bawdy laughter, every employee was dressed smartly and moved efficiently. This was a tight ship and Xavier was enormously proud of it.

Greaves handed them off to the aforementioned Finch, a much younger and scrawnier man with a cigarette between his lips and a Midwestern accent. He filled Xavier in on the goings on as they moved through the warehouse, dodging dockers and weaving between crates.

"Shipment's here, your lordship sir." Finch stopped in front of a heavy metal door. "Two crates, two frames, both unopened just like you said."

"Thank you, Finch. That will be all."

Maximus: They were followed behind, listening to every detail. Of the man downstairs complaining about his wife. To the man by his side laughing at his misfortune in marriage. He could hear the clatter of crates to which their destination remained in queue. The sound of large, tired trucks beyond the warehouse. Always, his master's voice above it all as though whispered nose-to-ear.

He waited for Finch to leave the room, for the door to close and muffle their surroundings. He placed his hat on the desk, along with his gloves. He continued without word towards the nearest crate.

Xavier: "Wait a moment, Maximus." Xavier eyed the crates. They seemed innocuous enough. Still...

"Can you feel anything? Smell anything? A strange energy signature, the traces of a spell?"

Maximus: His servant turned, his smile unlike that given to his employers. A playful, silent note, with a finger brought to his lips. Let me work, his eyes said. To mollify, he reached for the smaller crate first. The box was placed on top of the other, opened with brute strength.

Xavier: Xavier smiled and nodded, stepping back to let Maximus do whatever it was he was going to do but not dropping his guard. He almost expected Aello himself to pop out of one of those crates.

The crate opened and Xavier tensed, ready to defend Maximus and himself.

Maximus: That would have been nothing if not entertaining. A fat, jolly man with rosy cheeks stuffed into a child-size crate would have been unforgettable. He still wasn't sure what it was he had initially done to catch the salesman's attention. Whatever the case, the smaller frame was unearthed from the paper pulp. No burning, freezing, no sudden shock to his system. Nothing but wood and bits of metal long ago replacing thick twine.

The frame was set aside and studied much the same as it had in October. Beautiful, as expected, but unassuming.

The first crate was set aside. Onto the next.

Xavier: Like the crate it had just been in, the frame looked innocuous. Lovely and ornate and innocuous. A close inspection still had to be made but so far so good.

Maximus: It's larger twin was pulled in the same fashion and leaned against it's crate. This time, he kneeled in front of it, inspected as close as he could manage for tiny scribbled spells or hidden drops of blood.

Xavier: Xavier dared step closer. He still didn't feel any strange energy signatures but they weren't always present. Something sinister could still be lurking.

While Maximus studied the frames, he took it upon himself to study the crates themselves. It wasn't always the thing inside the box that held the nasty surprise; just as often it was the box.

Maximus: Pale fingers gently glided along the edge of the frame, feeling grooves or scratches. It was then he nicked his middle finger. The smallest prick with the tiniest bead of blood. So inconsequential, in his quiet thoughts, not to disturb his master. His hand carefully fell to his side, out of his master's sight.

Xavier: However tiny, they were demons. Their sense of smell was as sharp as any shark, and Xavier didn't need to be a mile away to smell that tiny metallic trace in the air.

"Did you cut yourself?" he asked suddenly, whipping around.

Maximus: Deer in headlights. His servant stared for a moment, caught completely off guard.

Xavier: "Let me see."

Maximus: He could not tell him no. He was eternally bound to obey. His hand, reluctantly, was presented palm-side up. The tiny scratch was barely inflamed, as though arguing to heal.

Xavier: Xavier gently took Maximus' hand and brought it closer to examine the cut. "Did the frame do this or a piece of the crate?" he asked as he began to heal it.

Maximus: "A shard of wood behind the frame." His eyes never left their hands.

Xavier: That was the next order of business then. He'd see to it only after Maximus' hand was set to rights and he'd made sure that the cut hadn't had any other effect on his butler.

Maximus: No obvious effect. Still calm, pale, and rigid. "It was most likely nothing, m'lord."

Xavier: "We can't be too careful, Maximus. Many a spell can be done with demon blood and this is a brilliant and stealthy way to get some."

Time to inspect the back of the frame.

Maximus: Everything about the frame spoke of simultaneous age and care. Long ago someone had taken the time to sand, paint, varnish, with consideration of every dip and hill of craftsmanship. The shard did not belong, as though someone had been careless with something so expensive.

Xavier: The shard did not indeed belong. As though by design. After all, why take such care with every aspect of the frame and leave they one imperfection untouched and unattended to.

He went to the door and stuck his head out. “Finch!”

The man appeared in moments. “Yes, your lordship sir?”

“Bring me some pliers and sandpaper.”

“Right away, your lordship.”

Maximus: "I can pull it apart myself," he called to his master's back.

Xavier: “Precautions, my dear. We must take them all.”

Maximus: There it was again. He tried not to think too deeply on his pet name. Still, his thoughts lingered while staring a hole into the large frame.

Xavier: Finch returned with the requested pliers and sandpaper, with a pair of gloves thrown in for good measure.

Xavier nodded as he took everything. "Thank you, Finch. The crate remnants will be going into the incinerator. Sooner rather than later, please."

"Yes, your lordship sir."

Once Finch had moved away, Xavier put on the gloves and turned the frame so the backside was facing him. Any inscriptions? Any sigils?

Maximus: Nothing of note. Only the single splinter of wood, as though it had fallen against a sharp corner.

Maximus slowly shifted to the side, giving his master room.

"I can remove it."

Xavier: "Don't trouble yourself, Maximus. Much as I love these frames I don't trust them one bit." He carefully removed the shard from the frame and braced for calamity.

If none came, he'd begin sanding down the location where it had been, along with any spots of Maximus' blood.

Maximus: "Then why did you purchase them, m'lord?" Yes, there was humor in his tone, but Atlas was looking away.

Xavier: Maximus would be able to hear the smile in Xavier's voice. "Because they really are nice frames. And they would look lovely in my house."

Maximus: There was no drop or blood to speak of. Once the shard was removed, it seemed the frame had always existed with a smooth, almost perfect dip the length of a small fingernail.

Xavier: Xavier squinted at the frame. This was a magical object. He didn't know exactly how or exactly what it did, but he was almost certain it was an artifact.

"When we return to Paradise, remind me to purchase some sort of print at the frame shop. Two, in fact. One for each frame. We're going to do a little experiment."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord." He wouldn't question what that would be at this time. He would find out be tonight.

"Shall I take us home?"

Xavier: "How's your energy? We can still take the train or hire a car."

Maximus: "I'll be fine. I swear. I just need to gather the fabrics."

Xavier: "Then let's go collect them from Greaves."

Maximus: "M'lord." Fabrics over one arm, held very carefully. The frames were hung from his other. This he would refuse, given how often they had traveled already. He wanted his master comfortable at his own expense. They would return to the mansion in one piece. Another bloody nose, standing in the middle of the drawing room.

Xavier: “Thank you for getting us back in once piece. How do you feel?”

Maximus: "Exhausted of nosebleeds, but I'm well."

Xavier: “Nothing odd around the site of your cut?”

Maximus: He looked to his hand. "No, m'lord." None that he could see.

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “Very good. But if you start feeling strange or notice something amiss, tell me immediately.”

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord," a response he was forced to give. Should he obey, he did not yet know if he could avoid.

Xavier: “Promise?”

Maximus: "I - Yes, m'lord." What he wanted to say verses what was spoken was quietly concealed in his eyes.

Xavier: His eyes were telling Maximus to go ahead and speak his mind.

Maximus: He turned away. "This frame for which room, m'lord?"

Xavier: “The larger one for this room,” he said softly. “The smaller for the library.”

Maximus: Then without word, he took the smaller frame in hand, bowed, and walked away.

Xavier: Xavier waited until he heard Maximus’ footsteps on the stairs before he sighed softly. He only hoped Maximus kept to his promise.

Maximus: He felt a little ridiculous. The frame had simply scuffed on its travel across the United States. There was no great mystery here. The only mystery was why Xavier was more worried than he was.

Xavier. That was the first time he'd ever thought of him by his first name. He was losing his senses. He'd never warmly regarded any owner, with perhaps the smallest exception of Crawford. He was property, a tool, a plaything one would pick up and put down at leisure.

The frame was secured onto the wall near one of the great shelves. His thoughts swam in memories, too fogged to pay attention to his task. In the middle of the library he stood, allowing himself a moment to find a clearing from his mind. There was a name for this, surely, but he did not know. He could not move, only exist.

Deep breath. He'd found his way out.

The frame was perfectly center. This was the smaller one, was it not? It seemed taller than when he had unearthed it from the crate.

Xavier: Whether the frame had been scuffed en route to the warehouse mattered precious little to Xavier's paranoia; it was far more concerned with the man who had done the sending.

That Aello was not human--or was a human with magic--was all but a certainty in his mind. Ordinary humans didn't have the kind of aura, that kind of energy. They'd settled and parted on decent terms (Xavier made sure of that) but still the suspicion remained. His paranoia had served him very well for the past several decades and he saw no need to start doubting it now simply because Aello was a jolly old man.

If it turned out he was worrying for nothing, all the better. If not, then he was prepared.

Xavier heaved a long sigh. He needed a drink. "Maximus?" he called.

Maximus: His servant appeared in an instant. The light pouring through the windows made him appear paler than usual.

"M'lord?"

Xavier: ......He second-thought that drink.

"Let's put the kettle on. We've traveled many miles today, we've earned a cup of tea."

Maximus: Assent with a bow. This time he would use his legs and walk to the kitchen. Some bread and butter would be added to the tea tray as well. A wave of calm seemed to have washed over him since the library.

Xavier: While Maximus put together the tea service, Xavier started a fire for them. The days were getting colder and colder and shorter and shorter, making even this palatial manor house feel cozy and warm.

All that was missing was the record player he still needed to find.

Maximus: What they did have was radio, and in the absence of radio, there was Maximus' voice, quietly singing in Italian while waiting for water to boil.

Xavier: To Xavier, that was just as good as any record he could play. And like nearly every other time Maximus had sung over the past two months, Xavier snuck closer to listen.

Maximus: Despite his hearing, he was not in tune with the house this evening. There was no need for such caution as to listen to every groan and sigh of the floors and corridors. Sweet love songs passed his lips without concern, switching into the more easily spoken French as the kettle whistled.

Xavier: That was something to be thankful for. Still, Xavier didn't want to push his luck and get even closer than he already was, no matter how much he wanted to see the expression on Maximus' face as he sang. He could hear and admire his butler just fine through the wall. Such a beautiful voice and kept so private. He hoped the day would come when it wouldn't be.

He'd wait until the last possible second to make his way back to the drawing room.

Maximus: Wherever his master had wondered throughout the house, his servant would find him, tray in hands. His disposition was composed. No different from the everyday taciturn behavior, with the exception of his eyes. One might call them sedated.

The tray was placed on a table.

"I don't suppose you're famished," he finally said, "but I brought a little something."

Xavier: Xavier gave Maximus a warm smile in greeting. “No Englishman ever said no to food with their tea. Especially when it’s bread.”

Maximus: "It's missing fried clams and sauce. Perhaps tomorrow."

Xavier: “I shall look forward to that. Make me all your Louisiana specialties.”

Maximus: "That's what I'm for, m'lord."

Xavier: You're so much more than that, he thought to himself. He would've said it aloud, but he had a feeling Maximus wasn't quite ready to hear it.

"Until then, sit and have a cup of tea with me. You've earned it."

Maximus: He'd learned not to attempt to argue. A quick lesson of just two months. Only after making his master's cup of tea did he take to a seat near the tray.

November 8, 2019

Xavier: Xavier was glad the lesson had stuck; his next goal was for Maximus to just automatically pour himself a cup or make a plate or sit down of his own free will. Slow and steady.

"How does the frame look in the library?"

Maximus: "As though it should have always been there," he said gently to his cup.

Xavier: "Then it was the correct choice."

Maximus: "Master Atlas." Two words equally delicate, as though barely lifted from his tongue.

Xavier: "Yes, Maximus?" he said softly.

Maximus: The demon blinked, brow furrowed enough to wrinkle. "I don't know."

Xavier: "Is something bothering you?"

Maximus: "No. I just suddenly needed to say your name."

Xavier: He gave Maximus a gentle smile. "You can say it as often as you like."

Maximus: Maximus swallowed and sat his cup aside. "I didn't mean to." His eyes had taken on a daydreamt state.

Xavier: "That's all right, Maximus. I don't mind."

Maximus: "I'm going to...clean now, m'lord. I need -" what was he about to say? That would have been awful. Where was his mind now? "Excuse me." His cup was returned to the tray and abandoned. With brisk stride he removed himself from the room.

Xavier: Xavier's brow furrowed. What had just happened?

He cast a glance at the empty frame. Perhaps....

He set his own cup down and followed after Maximus.

Maximus: He was humming, seemingly without shame, a Chick Bullock song. Breathy lyrics uttered from red wine lips as he headed towards the library. His shoulders slacked from lack of tension. Ungloved fingers gently caressed the banister as he ascended.

Xavier: The furrowed brow became a full-on frown. Maximus was humming? Out in the open? Where Xavier could easily hear?

Something wasn't right.

He waited until his butler reached the landing and turned before starting up the stairs himself.

Maximus: A handful of leather-bound books were pulled from their shelves, thumbed, and set aside. Papers were stacked neatly and put away. Pillows refluffed and returned. The books, written in French, were then gathered in his arm. Center of the room he paused, staring off into space. The demon blinked, looked to his arm and shivered as though shaking off the cold. These were books he had wanted to read since his master brought them home. He couldn't read them all at once. Three of the four were returned.

Xavier: Xavier couldn't quite decide whether he was more fascinated or concerned. Maximus helping himself to books in the library wasn't a shock; Xavier had told him he was free to do so. The...ease about him was definitely noteworthy, however. Usually it seemed like his butler never fully allowed himself to relax, and here he was, relaxed.

What actually concerned him was the moment when Maximus paused and shivered and looked at his arm. Was that the same side the cut had been on?

Maximus: His shiver had begun with his right side, the side which had been pierced by the frame. The bewilderment on his servant's features had been towards his insatiable inclination. With the books returned, he turned towards the door, paused directly in front of the frame. The literature in his hands, a hardback treasure gifted to the world by a woman, was hugged to his chest.

Xavier: "I knew it," Xavier muttered to himself, stepping into his butler's line of sight. His paranoia continued to serve him well.

"Maximus." His tone was light and gentle. Casual even. "We're going to pop into town for a bit. There are some things I need."

Maximus: His butler's posture straightened with a violent jerk, nearly dropped the book from his chest. It was as though he had been struck.

"I can get them for you, m'lord."

Xavier: He smiled. "That's quite all right, I fancy a drive. We could both use a break from our usual form of travel. We can bring the fabric to the shop while we're there."

Maximus: He glanced behind, as though expecting someone to be there. Perhaps the fabric, even. "Will we make it in time? Most stores will be closing soon."

Xavier: "We should, yes. If we don't then that's no bother for us, now is it?" His voice had remained gentle, his smile soft, and reassuring. "Come."

Maximus: "No, it's no bother, but I'd hate for you to be disappointed." His eyes closed, berating himself for all of two seconds. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I doubt very much that I will be. We have plenty of time." All is well. Just come to me and away from the frame.

Once Maximus had joined him, Xavier waited until his butler started down the hall before he closed and telepathically locked the library door.

Downstairs, the drawing room door was also locking itself. A simple precaution.

He led them to garage and into the car, keeping a close eye on Maximus as they started down the road.

Maximus: As usual, Maximus opened the passenger side door for his master. Being the one and only servant of the house, he'd quickly grown accustomed to playing every role in one. His surprise was mild when his master refused him.

The fabric had been placed in the backseat. During the drive, he stared out the window, hands in his lap, perfectly quiet.

Xavier: No outward signs of distress. Good. That meant whatever was happening wasn't causing pain.

Time for some tests.

"I was thinking we could stop by the ice cream parlor as well. It's been ages since I had any. What's your favorite flavor?"

Maximus: His servant looked on, nonchalant. "I don't have a favorite."

Xavier: “Perhaps I should buy several for you to see if we can find one.”

Maximus: "That's just frivolous, m'lord."

Xavier: “Frivolity makes life more fun. Let’s also get a cake.”

Maximus: "I can bake you one better than those in town."

Xavier: Xavier grinned. “Can you indeed? What’s your best recipe?”

Maximus: "Praline...with joconde sponge. It's the only one I know, so it's perfect."

Xavier: “In that case, we’ll get you all the ingredients you need. And a cake pan, as I don’t think we have one.”

Maximus: "What do you think I've made your elaborate English pies in?"

Xavier: “Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “I’m sure you must be getting tired of making so much pastry.”

Maximus: "My arms are strong from the effort. You enjoy my cooking. I can't complain about that."

Xavier: Xavier smiled to himself. He was beginning to see the effects. "I do enjoy your cooking, very much. I also enjoy sharing it with you."

Maximus: "It won't last, m'lord." His eyes closed again. "I ask for your forgiveness. I'm behaving most inappropriately."

Xavier: "No, Maximus, you're not behaving inappropriately. This is simply the result of the spell."

Maximus: "I thought previous masters were paranoid."

Xavier: "My paranoia has borne fruit. The frame seems to be lowering all your inhibitions and making you speak your mind."

Maximus: "How do you..."

Xavier: "You're answering all my questions without a filter and you can't seem to stop yourself."

Maximus: "I..." He closed his mouth. Indeed, he was about to say something else. Let's try again. "When did you know?"

Xavier: "You dashed out of the room like you were on fire, kept staring off into space, and gave the frame on the wall a strange look while shivering and looked at the arm you cut."

Maximus: "You followed me?" That's all he heard.

Xavier: "Yes. You never dash anywhere like you're on fire. You walk or hasten in a composed manner."

Maximus: "I didn't...dash. I walked...briskly."

Xavier: "For you, that's a dash."

Maximus: "I couldn't be in the room with you."

Xavier: "Because you kept wanting to say things and couldn't stop yourself?"

Maximus: His eyes remained closed. "I felt human again, but...I was better composed as a child. It made no sense."

Xavier: "It's the frame," he said softly. "Remember how I said that all sorts of spells can be done with blood? It took yours and had this effect on you."

Maximus: "When this is over I - anyway you see fit to punish me, I won't...I accept."

Xavier: "Darling, why would I punish you for something that isn't your fault? You didn't inscribe the frame with a spell and intentionally cut yourself with it."

Maximus: "I wish you would and just get it over with." His hands clutched to white knuckles. "I'm sorry."

Xavier: "Maximus, stop apologizing. I'm not going to punish you. I have no desire to punish you and no plans to punish you."

Maximus: "Please, just once so I can breathe."

Xavier: “I don’t want to punish you. I have absolutely zero desire or intention. I know you keep bracing for it and expecting it but it isn’t going to come.”

Maximus: "You're not the first demon to make that promise, master."

Xavier: “I’m sure I’m not. But I’m the first that plans to keep it.”

Maximus: "You're going to hurt more than anyone before you."

Xavier: "I sincerely hope I don't," he said softly. "I don't want to hurt you, Maximus."

Maximus: "Please forget everything I've said today when this is over."

Xavier: "I'll forget everything but your promise for fried clams and sauce." He offered a small smile.

Maximus: And all without having to open his eyes. He was grateful he'd been allowed.

"Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s get this frame situation sorted.”

Maximus: "What are you going to do?"

Xavier: “I’m going to try a simple cleansing spell. Ancient Roman in origin. I need salt, spelt, and sage.”

Maximus: "So you are going to hurt me."

Xavier: "Oh no, not for you. For the frame, to get rid of the spell."

Maximus: We don't know what that might do to me. A thought he just managed to keep to himself. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: Indeed they did not. Xavier hoped that cleansing the spell from the frame would break its effect on Maximus but there was no way to be sure. Unless...

"There is another option. I could contact Aello."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord." There was no way around an argument.

Xavier: "How do you feel? Physically?"

Maximus: With a full understanding of his predicament, he managed to swallow his words.

"Several ways."

Xavier: "Could you tell me? I wouldn't pry, but I need to understand what's happening to you so I can try to understand the spell."

Maximus: "I beg you, please don't demand of me."

Xavier: Xavier sighed softly. "Very well. Can I at least ask if you are in pain?"

Maximus: "No pain, m'lord."

Xavier: He nodded. At least there was that.

"Very well. We'll drop off the fabric and get the items I need and I suppose we'll see how to proceed from there."

Maximus: "If you'll allow me, I can find a way to deal with this myself. I am at fault."

Xavier: "Darling, I really wish you would stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault. You were inspecting the frames because I suspected they were enchanted somehow."

Maximus: "I shouldn't have regarded him at all. It wasn't my place. I am not darling."

Xavier: "You had no reason not to regard him. When we walked into his shop, we thought he was simply another shopkeeper. We must have interacted with a dozen shopkeepers over the past couple of months, no reason to suspect anything amiss."

Maximus: "But he didn't look at you the way he looked at me. It was me, m'lord."

Xavier: "He did the looking, Maximus, not you. His fixation, his strange attention. You did as I asked and stayed behind me. You didn't instigate this."

Maximus: "I -" Both fists cracked under the strain of his clench. They always look. It's always initiated by others. I cannot have a year of peace. I know this. What do I do? What do my eyes say that I cannot conceal? What am I constantly doing wrong? What did Mays see?

"Your confidence in me knows no bounds."

Xavier: "No, it doesn't." Said with complete conviction and no hesitation. "Our bond means your loyalty has been given to me. It also means mine has been given to you. You're part of my household. I will defend you, I will answer for you, and I will see you provided for."

Maximus: "Did you mean this pact when you created my summons?"

Xavier: Xavier shook his head. "I didn't anticipate it, no. That the bond would beget loyalty I knew. The rest of it? It's because it's you."

Maximus: "I don't deserve it."

Xavier: "And I don't deserve a beautiful estate and an enviable art collection and wardrobe. But I have all of that anyway."

Maximus: He could control this, so long as he kept his grip. If he clenched enough to bleed, then he could keep silent. The town was within sight.

Xavier: Within sight and quickly getting closer. Should he stop talking or try to diffuse or distract?

"If we're very lucky, there could be a time limit on the spell's efficacy. I wonder if transporting the frames out of the house would help. I could make actual copies of them and keep the enchanted originals in the warehouse."

Maximus: "I think we should call him. I want to know why, and what's to come of this. Or see to him."

His fingers released, revealing rows of crescent blood.

Xavier: "Seeing him might be asking for trouble. We'll find a phone box and give him a call."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I won't tell him the spell is affecting you. I'll tell him it's affecting a member of my household staff. I learned long ago not to provide details unless explicitly asked for them."

Maximus: "He'll know," he said, forcing himself to heal. In doing so, a wave of calm washed over him. He felt the tension release from his muscles of their own accord.

Xavier: "Perhaps, perhaps not. For all he knows I have a full accompaniment of maids, footmen, and hall boys."

Maximus: Without word, Maximus disappeared from the moving vehicle. Appearing on the side of the road next to the small, lonesome post office.

Xavier: He should've been surprised, but considering what he had guessed about the spell--and what Maximus had admitted--his butler's disappearance came as no shock. He could only imagine what Maximus was stopping himself from saying.

The car was parked and Xavier soon joined his butler. "Would you like to listen in on the call or would you rather stay out here?"

Maximus: A cigarette rested between his lips as His Lordship made his approach. He faced away as he apologized.

"I shall do whatever you think is best, m'lord," said softly, a gust of smoke with each word.

Xavier: “I’m asking what you want. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. More uncomfortable, I should say. You’ve had a long day.”

Maximus: "I want many things. I want to say your name and I want - I want to finish this cigarette and forget today."

Xavier: Xavier nodded and tried to offer what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Finish your cigarette. I'm going to go make this call and hope it bears fruit."

Maximus: Yes, Xavier, he thought. He turned his back on him entirely, taking a long, agonizingly slow drag in the hopes of burning his lungs.

Xavier: It wouldn't be held against him. This was turning into a very, very strange day.

Xavier excused himself and stepped into the booth, closing the door behind him. He called the long-distance operator and asked to be put through to Aello's shop, simultaneously hoping the man would answer and dreading that he would.

Maximus: The line connected after two to rings. The silence which followed, however brief, swelled with an aura of anticipation. The voice on the other line was no less grand and humored as it had been in October.

"Rossmara, how fortunate to receive you."

Xavier: The greeting gave Xavier pause. He hadn't given Aello the name Rossmara. He'd given him his vessel's name. Deidrich.

"Good evening, Mr. Aello," he said evenly. "Should I venture to guess that you've been expecting my call?"

Maximus: "You may venture much! It might all bear fruit. At any rate, I am very pleased to hear from you."

Xavier: "I wish I could say I'm calling under pleasant circumstances, Mr. Aello. I have a bone to pick with you."

Maximus: "You make it sound so unpleasant. I hear it in your tone. Quite sour. Though such matters should be discussed face-to-face, you and the young master might have qualms. I promise you there would be none. Would you prefer Rossmara, Deidrich, or Atlas?"

Xavier: "Well, I must confess that I am quite sour, whatever you see fit to call me. I would prefer to know why a legitimate purchase from what I assume to be a legitimate business has resulted in the maiming of one of my members of staff."

Maximus: "Maim? Maim?!" A full-bodied laughter crackled the line. "Heavens no! No, he is quite safe."

Xavier: "I'm afraid to disagree. Blood has been spilled absent cause, Mr. Aello."

Maximus: "Only in being unfathomable to you is it absent anything. I promise it was just a drop. A drop of knowledge beneficial to the both of us. I needed to know his structure."

Xavier: "May I ask why? Have we committed some offense against you, in this life or a past one?"

Maximus: "Offense? My good demon, there is no offense made! Only in regard to the creatures that wound the little doll without releasing the key."

Xavier: "Am I to understand that you contrived to steal blood in order to help?"

Maximus: "As I previously stated, I wished to understand his structure. His aura was covered in brambles he did not intentionally grow, from a single vine planted years ago. I had to see his unguarded underbelly. I'm so very glad I did. Do forgive me, but I believe I can give him, what shall we call it...a more suitable forever home, should you allow me to just take him off your hands. I have been looking for such man for what feels like a millennium."

Xavier: "Well, Mr. Aello, you're going to have to continue your search for a while longer. He is not a frame or some other commodity that is for sale and I am not going to part with him. He is under my care and begging your pardon, I think he is in the most suitable home he can be in. What's more, he is currently in distress and I would very much appreciate your insights into how I might relieve it."

Maximus: "As we are begging pardons, I must ask one of you. Everything has a price, and despite your fairness for buying full price, you are a demon with another demon under your thumb. Surely, it would be of no great effort to find yourself another."

Xavier: "It's not a matter of effort, Mr. Aello, it's a matter of loyalty and principle. Shocking, I know."

Maximus: "How much is he worth to you? Substantial comfort? Riches? What about pain? How much are you willing to sacrifice to keep him? Everything has a price. Name his worth and I shall concede."

Xavier: Xavier's jaw clenched. He looked to the man outside, suddenly struck with how much he had come to mean in a mere two months.

"Not everything, Mr. Aello," he said softly. "How much would it cost me for you to leave us alone? To leave him alone?"

Maximus: A rumbling hum. "Do you like him this way? Honest? Have you heard a venomous word from his lips?"

Xavier: "He did not choose to be this way. He is not comfortable this way. I was not exaggerating when I said he was distressed, nor was I being facetious when I asked you how I might relieve it."

Maximus: "I am giving you the release, should you answer my question. There is no need for all of that, Your Lordship."

Xavier: "I like him the way he is, not the way the spell is making him be." As much as he wanted Maximus to be more open and comfortable around him, Xavier had no intention of forcing it and he didn't care to see someone else forcing it. He owed Maximus more than to have someone change him on a whim. He didn't want someone to change him, he liked his butler precisely the way he was, absent artifice or embellishments.

Can you hear that in his voice, Mr. Aello?

Maximus: A long calm silence followed. "And the unkind word? Has there been one?"

Xavier: "No, there has not."

Maximus: "Truth without spite. Truth gentle and sweet like nectar. One day you will realize you cannot keep him to breast. When that day comes, it is my sincere hope you remember the name Aello. Have him drink from honeysuckle. Place your thumb to his forehead, and his underbelly shall be armored once more."

Xavier: Xavier heaved a long, silent breath of relief. "I do not know how much you know of me, Mr. Aello, but if there's one thing I'm proficient at in this life, it's holding the things that matter to breast. I thank you for your assistance."

Maximus: "I do it for Master Fairchild, my good demon. I will take a knee for now, but this will not be my final hello and goodbye. To your health and good fortune." Only a moment later did the line sever.

Xavier: "So do I," Xavier murmured to himself once the line disconnected. "So do I."

He took a moment to compose himself and rejoined Maximus, face all smiles. "You'll soon be feeling like yourself, Maximus."

Maximus: His servant was well into his second cigarette. His master's presence was enough cause to stamp the ember on the pavement.

"May I ask what happened?"

Xavier: "I asked him for help and he gave it to me."

Maximus: "But...But why...?"

Xavier: "Why did he do it or why did he help?"

Maximus: His posture, though correct, lacked a little something in the shoulders. "Both, please."

Xavier: Xavier found and held Maximus’ gaze. “He wanted to take you for himself and when I refused to give you over he relented and told me how to break the spell.”

Maximus: "Take me, m'lord? I'm nobody. Nobody to notice like that."

Xavier: “It would seem that you are.”

Maximus: "I...I'm sorry. It was my fault, as I said."

Xavier: “You can’t be faulted for existing, and I won’t fault you for existing.”

Maximus: "You're not a demon."

Xavier: “Then I really would like that whole sulfur business to come to an end.” Dare he hope for a smile?

Maximus: Rather than a smile, he closed his eyes. Nothing so harsh as though in self-beration. It was as though he'd been kissed on the cheek.

Xavier: Too soon for hope. Tomorrow was another day.

“Come. We must procure some honeysuckle.”

Maximus: "This was a fae if ever one were to craft a spell."

Xavier: “Couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s rather disarming to have my aliases known.”

Maximus: "He knew you?"

Xavier: Xavier nodded and led the way back to the car. "Yes. When he first answered me called me Rossmara, and later on he asked if I preferred to be called Atlas, Rossmara, or Deidrich."

Maximus: "Everything he does is based on truth, from the moment we met him."

Xavier: "Including his spell." He telepathically opened both their doors. No humans around to see at the moment.

Maximus: "There's honeysuckle at home. If you would prefer to go home, I will drive the car back, m'lord."

Xavier: "Ah, very good. Then we've only to stop at the fabric shop." And he would be driving.

Maximus: "I take that as a no, then." He made his way around to the passenger's side.

Xavier: "Tomorrow everything can return to normal. Today, let me look after you."

Maximus: He resorted to biting his tongue. Stop making me feel wanted.

"As you wish, Lord Atlas."

Xavier: "Thank you. Off we go, then."

They managed to arrive at the shop just before the owner was set to close, and even then they were only granted entry because the woman knew theirs was a big, high paying job.

Xavier handed over the fabric, money, and his requirements in short order and they were soon on their way back home.

Maximus: Maximus resorted to standing outside. He felt so inappropriate and useless. How they could return to what they were after his appalling behavior he didn't know. A decision needed to be made, one which forced the childhood habit of biting his thumbnail and hugging himself. He was vulnerable, and his reputation forever tarnished.

Back in the car, he stared out his window.

"Just after the gate, the honeysuckle is that way," he gestured.

Xavier: Xavier looked in the direction Maximus indicated and nodded.

Before they got to that, there was something he needed to say.

"Do you remember," he began softly, "what you asked me that afternoon we had tea at the Plaza?"

Maximus: Moistened lips parted, a gentle utterance of yes. Of course he remembered that afternoon. "But things are different now, aren't they?"

Xavier: "No, they aren't." He brought the car to a stop and turned to Maximus. "Aello thought he could offer me something in exchange for you. He asked me to name my price because he assumed I was like many of our brethren, absent principle and consumed by greed. So I told him what I'm about to tell you."

Only when he was certain Maximus was listening did he continue. "You are not a commodity to me. You are not something to be traded or sold. I told you that you were mine and you are mine. I will not allow someone to try to undermine our bond, remove you from your home, or hurt you on a whim. Not Aello, not anyone."

Maximus: When the car came to a halt, his anticipation spiked and plummeted, and again when his master turned to face him. An unpleasant knot had formed on the back of his neck from the stress. His mind and body could not come to an agreement.

For once in their brief history, he felt the difference in their ages. He was his first; he could not blame the demon for his gracious ignorance.

"When you were handed that scrap of paper, you were given the promise of a slave. No matter how beguiling your words, you know. I am yours. You will not allow anyone else to have what belongs to you. Your kindness has its limitations. You can't even set me free, had you a mind to. I would be given to someone else in less than an hour. No matter the gesture, you will always be master."

Whether it was Aello's intention or not, he had given Maximus a shallow form of his expectation. One way or another, he knew Xavier Atlas would hurt him. His altruism was an affliction.

"I'm going to get out now, m'lord," he whispered.

Xavier: He could strangle that bleeding Fae. He still had a mind to. Veiled threats didn’t sit well with him and that’s what Aello truly was.

“I don’t know how much honeysuckle we’ll need,” he responded softly. “I’ll grab a bunch. The spell won’t take more than a few moments.”

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord." The door was shut gently behind him.

Xavier: Sighing, Xavier went to park the car before going in search of honeysuckle, mildly annoyed at himself for not asking how much.

There was precious little nectar in each flower so....surely a bouquet would do. If more was needed he’d bring every last flower back to the house.

Maximus: Maximus remained in the woods on the grounds. He'd found a bush covered in pale pink honeysuckle and felt no inclination to move. His master would find him eventually.

Xavier: Xavier had gotten to know the woods surrounding his estate rather well since they'd been here and found Maximus rather quickly. He was eager to be done with this.

"Maximus?" he called softly to announce his presence.

Maximus: His servant turned, a tiny flower pinched between his fingers. "The day started out so well," he said softly. "With all things considered."

Xavier: "It did. You'll like Massimo's work. He only gives his best, even more so when it's someone he likes."

Maximus: He had nothing to say in regard to Massimo. His impulse told him to offer the flower to his master, and so he did.

Xavier: Xavier accepted it, and offered the bouquet in return. "You have to drink the nectar while I say an incantation." He paused for a beat. "It requires that I touch you."

Maximus: "You don't have to seek permission," he said without thinking. At this point he just accepted his fate while he knew it to last.

Xavier: He didn't respond verbally, but his look very clearly said 'yes I do'.

"I have to press my thumb to your forehead. It will only take a few moments."

Maximus: For everything this spell forced from his quiet thoughts and untouched impulses, looking at a tiny pink flower and deciding it to be edible had not crossed his mind. He closed his eyes. Without apology, the honeysuckle was placed on his tongue. Bitter petals and a sweet surprise.

Xavier: "Keep eating them until I finish. Just to be safe."

With greater care than he could remember doing anything, Xavier pressed his thumb to Maximus' forehead and began the incantation.

"Truth without spite," he murmured. "Truth gentle and sweet like nectar."

Maximus: Those were the words meant to be said during this spell? Had the spell been designed that way, or was this meant to reflect himself? Eyes opened, looking at his master with confusion. He...had nothing to say. His compulsion to embarrass himself had dissipated.

Xavier: The confusion caught him off guard. "Are you all right? Did it work?"

Maximus: "What does that even mean, m'lord?" asked quietly.

Xavier: "The incantation?"

Maximus: For some reason the words upset him. They were too syrupy in his regard.

He realized he had yet to speak.

"It's over."

Xavier: Shoulders he hadn't noticed were tense relaxed. "Good. Excellent. That's the incantation Aello gave me. I didn't question it."

Maximus: While the man in front of him began to square his own.

He couldn't let go of their words. Gentle and sweet like nectar. Was that supposed to be him?

"Then I shall not either," he lied.

Xavier: "If you find the effects are only temporary or more present themselves, tell me immediately. I wouldn't put it past that blasted Fae to continue to play games."

Maximus: His expression had lost its mellow. The same gaze just shy of his master's eyes. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "Even the tiniest thing amiss. Now that I know doing so won't hurt you, I'll cleanse the frames tomorrow and see about having a telephone put in."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord. Shall I get started on dinner?" Perhaps his appetite had reappeared since their ordeal.

Xavier: "Yes, thank you." He needed a meal, a drink, and a long brood.

Maximus: With a quick little bow, he turned and headed towards the house.

Xavier: Xavier waited until Maximus had disappeared inside before letting out a long sigh. How was it only dinner time? The day had felt eternal.

Then again, unwanted and insidious Fae magic tended to do that.

"And we're meant to be the demons," he muttered, heading up to the library to begin his drinking and brooding.

Maximus: The menu was an uncomplicated three course meal. Bourbon stout French onion soup with beef consommé, Louisiana beef stew served in bread bowl, a single serving apricot gelatin salad. A bold red wine would be poured from his left, without word or prompt. A subtle white for dessert. His toy soldier had returned to customary form. Sober, sharp features and immaculate dress; white gloves included. If offered to join, he would say he was replete from taste testing. Eyes forward, quiet in his corner of the room.

Xavier: Xavier wanted nothing more than to have his household returned to normal, so of course Maximus would be invited to join him. He still held hope that one day his butler would simply sit at the table without prompt or invitation, but just now with Maximus' refusal that hope felt very small.

"Maximus," he said at last, looking up from his stew. "Please sit down. You don't have to eat if you don't want to or speak to me or even look at me, but please sit down."

Maximus: I'd rather not, he wanted to say, but refused. Quietly, instead, he took the furthest seat at the table. Fingers laced together and rested in front of him on the table.

Xavier: Having expected Maximus to politely decline once more, it was a pleasant surprise that he'd actually sat. Perhaps things weren't quite so hopeless.

And perhaps his optimism was due to the wine selection and hearty food. Impossible to tell at the moment.

"Splendid work," he said softly. "Everything is delicious."

Maximus: "Thank you, m'lord," said just as softly.

Xavier: "There's a delivery coming tomorrow from Bordeaux. Six cases of wine, four red, two white. I've already settled the bill."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord. I'll see to it."

Xavier: "We'll go to the post office tomorrow morning and inquire about getting a telephone put in. Perhaps two, one for each end of the house. Perhaps the library and the butler's pantry?"

Maximus: Again, "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I would also like to finally see to the record players and radios and a television set for my sitting room. Would you like one?"

Maximus: "I have my radio, m'lord. Thank you."

Xavier: "I meant a television set."

Maximus: "I mean I am content."

Xavier: Xavier nodded. "Very well."

Maximus: Maximus subtly gestured to his plate, asking without words if he was finished with his main course.

Xavier: He nodded again. Yes, he was finished.

Maximus: Then dinner would be traded for dessert, and without having to be told, he returned to his seat, as he supposed his master would desire.

Xavier: It was an inkling of what he desired, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

Maximus was thanked and complimented again, for the dessert and the wine selection.

Maximus: "Do you like movies, m'lord?" A question to break the silence.

Xavier: Another pleasant surprise.

"I do, yes. Very much."

Maximus: "When we were in town, I saw a poster for Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

Xavier: His interest piqued, and it showed. "Did you indeed? Is it playing now or sometime soon?"

Maximus: "This weekend, m'lord. Would you like for me to get you a ticket?"

Xavier: "Yes, if you get two."

Maximus: "Oh..."

Xavier: Xavier nodded. His offer was on the table and he wouldn't elaborate. If Maximus agreed to come then splendid, they'd have a nice evening at the pictures. If not, no pictures and no harm done.

Maximus: "Saturday afternoon, m'lord?" he eventually conceded.

Xavier: At last, a soft smile. "Saturday afternoon sounds lovely."

Maximus: "Very good...m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier nodded again, much more cheerful as he finished his dessert.

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