the talk

”I’ll see you tomorrow … and you too, maybe …” Linc rubbed his knuckle under Olive’s chin, leaving the kitten’s eyes closing as she started purring again. Chuckling he pushed his way to his feet and did the same to Cassie, curling his finger under her chin to lift her lips to his. ”Bye,” he whispered against her lips. Him drawing away was reluctant, the journey to the front door of the shop slow until Nicky emerged from the back and then it was a quick, polite withdrawal, complete with a nod to the guy.

He glanced down at his wrist as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, tugging the front door of the shop closed behind him. On evenings like this it felt a little like the two of them were being pulled apart, each of them tied to their respective surrogate parents, those lines drawing them apart temporarily. Like a kid playing out on the estate, he had to be home at a certain time for dinner. It wouldn’t be a bath and bed after, not when his schedule was still being lived in reverse. It’d be eating whatever balanced, home cooked meal Magnus put on the table, drinking down his blood allowance and then finding out whatever it was that had Magnus practically wringing his hands to make sure that he was home tonight.

That flutter came in the pit of his stomach as he turned off of the square and onto the street that’d lead him home. It hit every time he looked up from whatever ridiculously pompous drink some six hundred year old twat had asked for and saw Cassie working her way towards him. He’d smile and she’d smile back at him, all lit up in a way he knew was mirrored on his own face. Linc pressed his lips together, squelching the grin that broke out now, at least enough that he wasn’t walking down the streets looking like a complete lunatic. That wasn’t gonna happen tonight, unfortunately, but when the evening plans were all over and done with he’d flop down in his room to fill Cassie in on everything that had happened. Words softening as the sky darkened and the town started to go silent around them.

Minutes later he was strolling up the path to the house. Like he always had with Mrs Graham – there wasn’t much point being neat or house proud when you lived in a complete shit hole – he wiped his shoes on the mat, kicked them off and set them aside neatly, put his wallet and keys in the little bowl for them on the hall table. Domestic little tasks that’d felt almost alien when he’d started doing them again. ”How’s that for timing then,” Linc murmured as he walked into the kitchen and returned Magnus’ smile. It wasn’t like he hadn’t checked his watch a half dozen times in an hour, just to make sure he wasn’t ruining whatever this was meant to be tonight.

Linc followed his dad’s progress around the kitchen as he retrieved the cutlery and place mats from the drawer. His gaze only lingered on the blood bags for a moment. Control came easier these days, the routine helping to chase away those errant cravings. He'd have been a liar if he’d have said he didn’t wanna drain the glass before he took a look at the salmon though. That kid who’d devoured three Big Macs that first night in Wesley’s apartment – the ones that one of the hangers on had been sent out to get for him – was still in there, still ready to gorge himself when the hunger struck.

The napkins were all lined up, the set up feeling a little like movie stage dressing for the real drinking that was gonna go on here. He knew it meant a lot to Magnus though and maybe some part of him was enjoying feeling like he was a real boy instead of a monster in human clothing.

”It looks good,” he murmured as he settled down at the table. Linc restrained himself from just going straight for the glass, shaking his napkin into his lap before he reached for his knife and fork instead. He’d never had salmon before he’d come here. Now he dutifully cut into it as Magnus did, appreciating how good it would’ve tasted if the blood hadn’t been a thing.

At Magnus’ question, Linc’s brows hitched faintly. Then he was brushing the back of his hand over his mouth, smiling as it dropped away. ”All the better for not havin’ to work tonight.” Although, honestly, that was still to be seen. ”I went out with Cassie earlier. Her boss had her goin’ to same estate sale for him and I tagged along. You would’ve loved it. Antiques everywhere.” He’d considered buying Magnus something, but there’d been too much to pick from, boxes and tables filled with the clutter you built up when you gotto spend your entire life in one place.

He would’ve asked about Magnus, he’d learned to be that polite during meals at least, but after a minute or two of chewing and swallowing – and a slow sip of the blood that wouldn’t stay warm in his glass for long – his dad was already opening up. Linc’s brows drew together when he realised it wasn’t just gonna be a simple throwaway comment. This was what Magnus had wanted him home for. Jo had been there ever since the night he’d screwed up, a quiet, warm presence in the house, one that definitely made Magnus happy, smiley like he had been since he’d gotten home.

”I figured,” Linc said cautiously. ”She told me some of that.” Although not as much as might spill out of Magnus now. Hector had plenty of stories about when him and Magnus had been sewing their wild vampire oats, but Jo had known his dad even before that. He didn’t have anybody left he could ever end up saying the same about. Magnus had been the only one who’d seen him when he’d been human, and even that Linc was different to the one who’d walked into Wesley’s flat that first time.

”You worried I’m gonna think she’s intrudin’ on everythin’? If you are, I’m not,” Linc admitted. ”It’s been kinda nice havin’ her around, ‘specially since she’s pretty good in the kitchen too. Am I gonna get to call her mum soon?” There was a trace of cheek in his voice, his gaze dropping to Magnus’ left hand before it flicked back up. After London he’d been on the fence about whether Magnus would ever move on. He’d seen the emotion choke him as they’d stood in front of Philippa’s tomb, as Magnus had told him he’d never love another the same way that he had her. Had he just meant the sort of dysfunctional love that left you a vampire or that his heart really was dust in his chest? Special covered a lot of ground, after all.

Tagged: MAGNUS DAYNE * Word Count: 1170

If he’d still been acting like an ungrateful little shit (all the time, instead of just on those rare jokey moments now), he’d have said anything would’ve after a childhood of basically eating garbage. Hearing around Cassie trying to tempt a stray cat into being her familiar had given him a new perspective on what he’d gone through. Thanks to Magnus he wasn’t spending the rest of his life – as short as it would’ve been – stuck in a basement jail or luring kids down there to end up as dinner for Wesley and his people. He wasn’t gonna end up a mangy corpse tossed into an alleyway. There was a clean bed here, a room of his own, a dinner table (one he had to set maybe), and anything that was served up in that was gonna taste better under the circumstances.

Seeing the pride in Magnus’ smile as they settled down at the table gave him that added little push to keep the gratitude and the good behaviour up. Jesus, he was like one of those kids who’d do anything to get a gold start off their teacher now. Maybe when Magnus had told him about Philippa and what the two of them had gotten up to in the stone age Magnus had expected him to be disgusted with the whole thing. It’d done the opposite though, the tarnish taken off of the saint who’d saved a kid he didn’t know, making him human, easier to look up to when he knew that Magnus hadn’t always been perfect.

Linc glanced up at him, echoing Magnus by starting to eat from his plate before he did more than just glance at the glass of blood that’d been placed next to it. He kept his eyes on Magnus as he told him about his day, half expecting to see some flicker of disgust there at the idea of him spending the day with Cassie. It was like she was worse than Philippa somehow, a woman who’d bewitched him so completely that he’d throw his whole life away for her – it couldn’t have been more the opposite. He was trying to be a better person almost as much for Cassie as he was his dad.

His eyes narrowed faintly at Magnus as he hummed out a query, like he hadn’t heard, those eyes that were even paler than his own flicking up to meet them. Linc shook his head, his nose wrinkling as he thought about it. Maybe he should’ve picked up the pocket watch he’d spotted for Magnus after all. It hadn’t been working, but the auctioneer had said it would do if someone was willing to put in the time. ”Nah. It was all a bit dusty and knackered.” A quick grin curved his lips but he didn’t follow it with the tempting ‘you’d have felt right at home there’. It was a nudge too far, especially on a night when Magnus was obviously trying so hard.

Cassie’s part in it all seemed to pass without comment. Magnus still hadn’t made it past the ice age in his feelings about her then. Jo was the opposite in Magnus’ book. When the two of them were together Linc was sure he could feel both of them warming up. It was all very prim and proper, no catching the two of them nipping off to the bathroom at the same time or anything like that. He’d have said old fashioned, but there was no point, cause it really was.

He couldn’t imagine having had someone in his life – well, someone who’d at least been in his life on and off – for seven hundred years. Most people could even imagine that span of time, how Magnus had been an actual knight, charging around England on a horse, done up in his finery in court (he hadn’t come out and said that, but close as he was to the King, and more importantly to the queen, he could imagine it). Linc stirred his fork through his potatoes, snorting out his amusement. ”Yeah, you worried she’s told me all the embarrassin’ stories about when you were my age?” And it seemed like she could’ve done too.

It wasn’t easy imagining Magnus as a teenager, it almost felt like he’d come out of the womb as an old man (alright, probably middle aged, but life definitely took a bigger toll then). Bachelor or not, the impression of a ladies man couldn’t quite fit itself over those rough hewn features. ”You couldn’t have stopped what happened to her,” Linc said softly, wondering if the frown that suddenly broke out had been born of guilt. He set his fork down gently, reached for the blood to take a small sip to wash the tightness from his throat. ”I guess she did it to protect all of you. It must’ve been harder to hide it then … I’m sorry you all thought you’d lost her.”

Grief was a funny thing. With Mrs Graham it had almost torn him apart, and had started long before her heart had actually given in. He’d loved her and she’d loved him and that added a weight to it all. Even before that he’d expected his parents to die – far younger than they should’ve done, but there was no stopping what they wanted to do to themselves – but he hadn’t expected to feel anything over it when they had. There’d been absolute terror as he’d watched Wesley snap his dad’s neck, grief too. The mourning had overflowed from that tiny bit of his heart that had always loved them no matter what they did.

He seriously doubted Philippa had ever felt any guilt over what she’d done. From what he’d seen of Jo the decision she’d had to make had probably torn her to bits – leaving her husband behind, her kids too (she’d mentioned them and he’d seen the sadness in her eyes as she had), and Magnus. She’d probably understood how Magnus felt about having cuckolded his son, forgiven him for it too, if she thought there was anything there to forgive in the first place.

The two of them had definitely put the years they’d spent apart aside, leaving Magnus looking different to the way he had when he’d woken up in transition and Magnus had been sitting there. Linc studied his dad as he started picking his way through the rest of the explanation, grinning at Magnus as the warning dropped. He picked up his knife and fork again, slicing through an asparagus stem. ”I was being serious … sorta.” It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Tilting his head, Linc ate the veggie, as though that was explanation enough to soothe Magnus’ hurt feelings over the cooking comment. ”She said,” he admitted as he went back for a bit of potato. ”I always have been ... after that first night. I do like her.” He’d been drawn to her a little like the way he had Mrs Graham, the warmth shown to him softening those rough edges.

Shaking his head, Linc looked up from his plate, the potato he’d speared tapping lightly against it. It was still new having someone consider his feelings before they made a decision that affected him. ”You don’t have to be,” he told Magnus. ”I don’t mind her bein’ here … wow …” Linc puffed out a breath, a shallow crease appearing between his brows as he stared at Magnus. ”By one day you mean … soon? Like you’re plannin’ on askin’ her?” Magnus would grumble if he made a decision too quickly, like he’d not actually considered it.

”I’d say you were movin’ quick, but I don’t think you could ever call seven centuries that.” Linc paused again, his teeth raking over his lower lip before he gave a single nod. ”I don’t think I’d mind that. She’s been here a fair bit and she obviously cares about you.” He’d have said she loved Magnus, but those were feelings he wasn’t sure he’d actually realise. The important bit of it was that Jo seemed to want to make Magnus happy, and she’d always included him in that.

Tagged: MAGNUS DAYNE * Word Count: 1365