by Amy Crook
"Me, too," said Julian with a delighted little smile. "It's lovely."
A waitress came up and gave them the once-over, chuckling. "You boys out on a date, then?" she asked.
"He's done me that favour," said Alex with a chuckle. "What do you recommend? We've got a bit of time to kill before our next stop."
"Arnold makes a brilliant martini," she said. "Gin or vodka, though I like the gin ones best."
"That sounds good to me, vodka, though," said Julian. "Gin doesn't agree with me."
"I'll try the gin for balance, then," said Alex. "And perhaps something small to nibble on?"
She grinned. "I'll bring over a bowl of snacks, luv, on the house." Her heels clicked as she went over to the bar, grinning and gossiping happily with the bartender while he made up their martinis, one with olives and one with a twist of lemon.
She returned with a bowl of nuts and pretzels, their martinis, and two glasses of water. "Got to pace yourself," she said with a nod and a wink to Julian. "Don't let him take advantage, dear."
They all laughed at that, and it was pleasantly homey, whether just her personality or a special treatment thanks to his brother's good standing as a regular, Alex wasn't sure. "These look great," said Alex, taking a careful sip of his. He'd gotten the olives and the gin both, and the taste was bright and crisp with just a hint of salt, as though the bartender had made the martini ever so slightly dirty.
Somehow, Alex found that really appropriate.
"Mmm, perfect," said Julian. "I've always really liked martinis, though I can only have a couple, especially after all that wine."
Alex grinned. "I've got sobering potion for both of us, so you won't be too giddy for the next part," he said, glad he'd remembered to bring them in.
Julian looked quite pleasantly surprised. "You take good care of me," he said, echoing his earlier sentiment.
"I do what I can," said Alex. "Now, aside from climbing trees and winning men's hearts, what do you like to do for fun?" he asked.
They sipped drinks and ate snacks and chatted for the next hour and a half about Julian's secret love of mass market mystery novels, Alex's collection of spell components he knows he'll never use, Julian and Emmy's regular afternoons at the horse races and Alex's tendency to spend the down time between cases lounging around the house in his silk pyjamas.
"I bet you look all elegantly decadent," said Julian impishly. "Assuming the pyjamas are long enough on you."
Alex laughed. "I assure you my wrists and ankles are properly covered," he said. He paused to finish off the last of his martini and check his watch. "About time to go, did you want to sober up before or after we try to stand?"
"Oh, before," said Julian with a giggle. "I need to use the loo as well."
"Before it is," said Alex, pulling out the two little phials. "Cheers."
They clinked phials and downed their doses, and Alex felt the fuzzy warmth recede until he was once again clear-headed. "You go on, I'll pay and then take a turn," said Alex, gesturing for the waitress.
"Not going to angle for a peek?" teased Julian, scooting out of the booth.
"I'll wait until I'm invited to get a proper look," said Alex with a wink.
The waitress brought the check without being asked, and Alex gave Victor's credit card over gladly, though the drinks were perfectly reasonably priced even for Alex's pedestrian tastes. He ate the last olive out of his glass to wash away the taste of the potion, then waited for Julian to emerge before heading off himself. Once they were signed, sorted and Julian was bundled back up against the cold, they headed out to find the car just pulling up.
"Oooh, he's good," said Julian, impressed.
"Victor's got high standards," said Alex, "I'm just borrowing car and driver both for the evening."
"Going to tell me where we're off to?" asked Julian, as they got themselves settled back into the car.
"Nope," said Alex. "It's fun to surprise you, even if they're not really my surprises."
"They're yours enough," said Julian, cuddling up into Alex's arms without prompting.
Alex grinned the whole way to the next stop.
~ ~ ~
"The Starlight Tower?" said Julian, surprised.
Alex flushed. "Henry says there's ballroom dancing after eleven," he said, leading Julian into the glass elevator that would take them to the very top of the building and the glass-roofed restaurant waiting. It was a bit of a cliche to take a date there if you were middle-class and wanting to impress, and a place to go slumming for a pretty view and mediocre steak if you were from the aristocracy. "I've never actually been before."
"Me, neither," said Julian, looking up at him. "You like ballroom dancing?"
"It's the only sort I'm good at," confessed Alex with a sheepish grin. "I hope that's okay?"
Julian grinned. "It's better than okay, though you'll have to lead. I'm a bit clumsy at it still."
Alex laughed. "Could you imagine how we'd look if you were leading?"
They were still laughing when the elevator doors opened.
Whatever the Starlight Tower looked like during dinner, it was a truly gorgeous place now. There were tables all around the edges of the room, but the centre was a polished black marble floor just waiting for dancers. The lighting was minimal, mostly candles on tables and strings of fairy lights that echoed the real wonder of the place, the clear, starlit sky above. The view out the floor-to-ceiling windows was equally breathtaking, showing the sparkling lights of the city below from a dizzying height.
"It's a good thing I'm not afraid of heights," said Julian, stepping forward and looking around with wonder.
"You'd hardly be out on a date with me if you were," said Alex, but he, too, was impressed by the view. He could see why it was so popular, even if most of the society boys who brought dates here felt the need to pretend it was beneath them.
They got a seat near the band, and Alex dutifully introduced himself to the bandmaster and made sure to request at least one slow, romantic waltz he could use to impress Julian with what few graces he possessed. They ordered champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries from their bored-looking waitress, and soon enough the music was playing and a few couples drifted onto the dance floor.
"May I have this dance?" asked Alex, standing up and bowing formally, offering Julian his hand.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," said Julian, a charmed smile on his face. Alex led him out to the edge of the dance floor, then swung him gracefully into position and started them moving, his attention divided between the man in his arms and the people around them who wouldn't appreciate a collision.
"You really can dance!" said Julian, looking very pleased indeed. He was an excellent partner, responding to Alex's gentle nonverbal direction and not fighting for the lead like some men did.
It wasn't until they sat down that Alex realised they'd been the only same-sex couple on the floor, and also were about thirty years younger than the next youngest pair. "You dance much better than the lady with the blue hair," said Alex, as he poured them each another half-flute of champagne.
"It's all in the hips," said Julian, giving a little shimmy, "mine are original."
"So, good surprise?" asked Alex.
"Good surprise," assured Julian, picking up one of the cool strawberries and biting into the candy-coated flesh, making very pleased noises despite the way the chocolate tried to crack and fall all down his front. He managed to catch the little shards, and he licked them off his fingers one by one with an impish grin.
Alex took another sip of champagne and wondered how obvious his erection would be if it didn't go down before it was time to dance again. "Good," was all he said, attention entirely on the sight of Julian eating his strawberry bite by sweet red bite.
"Mmm, very good," said Julian, washing the treat down with champagne.
They spent about an hour there, dancing and drinking and talking, until the band struck up a properly slow, romantic song that Alex just knew would be perf
ect to end their night. "Come on, one last dance?" he asked, standing.
"One last dance," said Julian, looking pleased and just a little tired. He let Alex pull him close and move them through the measures, their bodies swaying together gracefully despite the difference in their heights.
Unable to resist, Alex started a soft, low whistle, conjuring first one or two and then dozens of soft blue-glowing butterflies to dance with them, swirling around the dance floor like bits of the night sky come down to visit them. They sparkled and shone, coming to rest on the dancers before taking of again in flight, and Julian's eyes sparkled with them. "They're beautiful," he said softly, "I wonder if they know you're doing it."
Alex grinned and kissed him, keeping up enough of a hum that the illusion held through his moment of distraction. He let his magic crescendo with the song, then let the butterflies burst into showering stars that fell to the floor and floated for a moment like sparks on black water before being snuffed out.
The applause surprised him into blushing, a part of him having forgotten about their audience entirely between the magic and his desire to impress Julian. "I think they realise," said Alex with a laugh and a bow.
They took their seats, and the bandmaster came to thank them for the show, and insisted on tearing up their tab. "People will talk for months about it, and the dancing will be popular again for a while, even if you don't come back," he said with a grin.
"I'm glad it wasn't an intrusion," said Alex, still unable to quell his blush. "I hadn't really considered how it might appear to anyone but my date."
Julian grinned. "You've managed to impress more than just me, Alex," he teased.
A few more pleasantries and they were able to escape, though he left a bit of cash on the table so the waitress, at least, wouldn't miss out on her tip. He suspected she'd appreciate the money more than the show, unlike the business-minded bandmaster.
"Well," said Alex, as they rode down the elevator alone and he finally managed to stop being quite so embarrassed, "I can see I'll have to work on something more impressive than butterflies next time."
Julian laughed and kissed him all the way to the ground floor, which he felt was worth every blush.
CHAPTER 15
In Which the Evening Ends, and There is a Long Night at Work
Followed by an Attempt at Purification
The ride home was quiet and uneventful, mostly chatting about inconsequential things between sweet, tempting kisses.
"I can't decide if it's good or bad that I'm terribly jealous to think of you kissing those other suitors," said Alex, as they pulled into the St. Albans driveway.
Julian grinned and kissed him again before saying, "Definitely good."
Alex chuckled. "Shall I walk you to your door?" he asked, the car slowing to a stop.
"I'd like that," said Julian, "though I'm the one with the warm coat."
"A mere inconvenience," said Alex, getting out first and helping Julian out, then tucking his hand in Alex's arm and leading him up to the door. "Think of me fondly, and do try to give me a few more days' warning next time?"
Julian laughed. "I'll set your third date as soon as I can, as an apology," he said. He gave Alex one more kiss, this one sweet and chaste. "See you soon."
"See you soon," said Alex, mentally hoping it wouldn't be too soon. He had no more gifts conveniently ready, and no idea how to follow up on tonight's performance.
Godfrey opened the door and Julian ducked inside before Alex could think of anything more to say, so he went back to the haven of Victor's car to check his messages. "Home, please," he said to the driver.
"Of course, sir," came the reply, as though there had never been any doubt of his destination.
Alex's messages alternated assurances he wasn't needed with irritating questions from the department about the various pieces of evidence from the murder scene, and finally Alex lowered the partition with a sigh. "I'm afraid I'll need to go by the department, will I be able to borrow you much later or should I let you go once I'm there?"
"Why do you ask?" said the man carefully, and Alex couldn't help but be darkly amused. Victor probably had the man reporting back to him, knowing Alex wouldn't be all that forthcoming, and he'd want to make sure his report was complete.
"Well, you know, better to have my own car than take a taxi at that hour, but I won't be doing anything of interest to Victor, just boring murder-solving," said Alex dryly. "Mostly I was wondering if I should take the coat."
"If I might ask, sir, why did you bring it if not to wear?" The man's face, or what Alex could see of it in the rear-view mirror, was carefully blank.
Alex laughed. "I'd forgotten it needs tailoring, it doesn't quite fit my freakish frame, and it would have been noticeable."
"Shall I drop it off at the clothier's tomorrow for you? I believe they have your measurements."
Alex chuckled. "No, but if you're not busy with Victor I might have you drop me and it both off. I'll need to do some more shopping and it's all in the same neighbourhood."
"More shopping, sir?" said the man.
Alex's chuckle turned to a laugh. "Yes, it's endless, isn't it? I need at least one more gift, and probably more than that, and I'm trying to learn enough about my quarry that I don't misstep in my pursuit," he said. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Jones, sir," said the driver.
Alex snorted. "Well, at least it's not Jeeves. Anyway, why don't I let you go tonight and then I can see if I can weasel another favour out of Victor tomorrow," he said, seeing the agency building up ahead. "Smedley might take pity on me and drive me home, if I manage to solve enough little mysteries, or annoy Armistead too much."
"Very good, sir," said Jones, and that seemed to be that.
Alex fired off a last text to Victor, then put on the coat and got out. "Make sure you tell him about the kissing, I love it when he makes that face like he's far too refined to be bothered by it," said Alex with a chuckle.
He was pleased to see Jones look surprised at that before he scampered into the agency and went looking for Smedley.
"Don't you have a life?" said Alex, finding the Agent in his office staring confusedly at a pile of evidence bags.
Smedley chuckled. "Only between active investigations," he said.
"So, I take it you tried to half-arse the system and now you can't figure out what's what?" said Alex, hanging up the overcoat and coming over to sit on the edge of Smedley's desk.
Smedley looked shifty. "What makes you say that?"
Alex fluttered his eyelashes and said, "Whyever else would you want to get me alone in your office late at night, Agent Smedley?"
Smedley laughed, as he was meant to. "Fine, fine, I got sloppy. Can you help?"
"Of course I can," said Alex, "but I'll need coffee, a fresh pot."
"If you can get this crap off my desk, you can even use my mug," said Smedley, levering himself up out of his chair.
"Deal," said Alex, picking up the first bag and palming his watch fob, which helped cut through the plastic to the magic inside. He was already making proper notes on the front of the bag when Smedley slipped out, presumably to get his coffee.
"Just put it here," said Alex idly, gesturing to the bare spot on one corner of the desk. He was still perched on the edge, bag in hand while he tried to figure out what on earth Smedley's location notes could be referring to, matching magic to memory.
"I don't think you get to tell me where to put it, Benedict," said an unpleasantly familiar voice.
"Armistead," said Alex, turning. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"
"I was looking for Agent Smedley, this being his office and all," said Armistead. "Or are you going to move in now you've broken your last agent?"
Alex waved him off. "She's already on the mend, I'll have her back taking competent notes in no time," he said, and then, "Ah! That's what that means." He added to the notation on the bag in his hand, then set it aside and picked up the next one, trying vainly to set Armist
ead aside as well, at least mentally.
The man was always so distracting, standing there radiating disapproval at him. It was worse than Lapointe's smoking, and he couldn't exactly make a charm to turn Armistead's personality around. It wouldn't be ethical.
Though he was occasionally tempted.
"Well?" said Armistead.
Alex looked up, irritated. "He's obviously not here."
"Where is he, then?" asked Armistead, with the tone of one speaking to a recalcitrant child.
"Wishing you'd get out of his way," said Smedley. "It's no wonder he won't work with you."
Alex hid a smirk and went back to his paperwork. "I trust you remember how I take it?" he asked, as Smedley's giant mug was set down next to him.
"Sweet enough for a candy store, and half milk," said Smedley with disgust, sipping his own black coffee out of Lapointe's favourite mug.
Alex chuckled. "Good," was all he said, and he took a nice big sip and tried once again to dismiss the distractions from his mind. It never worked as well when he wasn't doing magic, more's the pity.
"What's he doing here, anyway?" said Armistead, hostile to the last.
Smedley chuckled. "He's fixing the evidence notes that I messed up, as you requested."
Armistead spluttered. "Him? You messed up? As if-"
"Do shut it, Armistead," said Alex, without looking up.
"I didn't understand the system fully, and I messed up the notes, since Lapointe was in hospital, or had you forgotten?" said Smedley, his voice mild and yet somehow dangerous. "Now, what was it you wanted?"
Alex wondered if he could learn to emulate the tone.
"I wanted to ask you about this," said Armistead, pulling another bag out of his pocket. "It says here-"
"Toss it on the pile, I'll fix the notes," said Alex, enjoying the freedom to continually interrupt the man's blathering.
Smedley took the bag and shooed Armistead out without another word. "It's no wonder he won't work with you, either, you two are like bickering children," he said, adding the bag in question to the top of Alex's pile.
