“I can't believe you ordered chicken nuggets at Harrows.” Maharet said as she got out of the jeep. Bael offered his hand for stability. But he need not have worried. Even wearing six inch ivory stilettos she was as steady footed on the cobblestones as a mountain goat.
Today she had chosen to ditch the Mom jeans and wear something more elegant. Her perfectly fitted off the shoulder dress was made of the finest silk in a color that could only be described as envy green. There was a slit along the left side that ended just above her knee. Going any further up would be flirting with madness.
Her left wrist was adorned with a thick golden torc bracelet patterned with creeping vines. Hanging from her neck on a golden chain was a gemstone set in the center of a platinum pendant.
Some might have chosen a more neutral stone like a diamond. But Maharet had gone with a ruby to compliment her hair, which flowed behind her in the soft breeze like living flame. Diamond solitaires hung from each ear, also set into platinum.
As if ordering chicken nuggets at a three star restaurant (and actually getting them) wasn't enough of a sign that things were about to get apocalyptic, Bael had dressed up. Or rather, allowed someone else to dress him.
They say suits are like lingerie men can wear in public, which would explain why so many passersby were undressing him with their eyes. The suit jacket had two buttons and was made of dark blue wool with a pattern of thick black lines. It was tailored perfectly to fit his tall frame.
The pants were black wool, loose fitting but not sloppy, and comfortable as a cloud. His shoes were of course not Italian, as there was no way he would willingly go that close to the Vatican. Instead they were hand made from the finest leather from a lesser known micro brand in New York.
His dress shirt was made of baby blue Egyptian cotton to give a splash of color to his ensemble, with a fly front to hide the buttons. He wore no tie, cufflinks, or adornments besides his wedding ring. Even his watch and reading glasses had been left at home.
Some effort had been put in to manage Bael’s hair, which was black with streaks of silver. He opted for a crew cut, Ivy League style with a little extra length on top. The stylist told Bael that the haircut made him look like a silver fox. Which was confusing to him because Bael was obviously not a kitsune. In deference to the advice from Six and Maharet he had gone with a closely trimmed full beard instead of his customary goatee.
Together Maharet and Bael made quite a pair, an obvious power couple that could have graced the pages of any medium to large business magazine. Bael took the opportunity to spin his partner around, pulling her in close for a kiss before letting her go again.
“Dessert before dinner?” Margaret asked playfully as she adjusted her dress. “You truly are a fiend.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Six of course was not having any of this. “Come on you two!” She said as she stomped forward in her new purple rain boots. Six knew very little about England besides the fact that it rained a lot and Cary Elwes was from there. Hence the boots and the copy of the Princess Bride on VHS in Maharet’s bag.
It was fine if her foster parents wanted to play dress up. She was perfectly content with a clean pair of black tights, a blue skirt to match Bael, and a white T-shirt. It was a very nice white T-shirt. But a T-shirt nonetheless.
Bael opened the door to the restaurant and held it open for his wife and daughter. When they were safely inside he waved to Murphy, who started up his motor and grumbled off to cause some havoc. In the distance there was a sound of crunching metal and glass as Murphy tried to do his part to settle the whole “right side of the road” debate, once and for all.
What a lovely evening, Bael thought as glass broke in the background and car alarms went off. Once upon a time it would have taken the end of the world to get him back here in London. Yet here he was, about to eat dinner at Harrows like nothing had happened. He hoped the staff didn't make a big deal out of his return.
Involuntarily Bael winced, gritting his teeth. He had a history with this place. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and put on a smile. Six wanted to come see London so he had brought the family to London. They would get a quick bite and he would introduce himself to Alan. Then they would go do some sight seeing and teleport home.
It was just a little day trip with the family. There was no reason for him to overthink things. History was just that, history. Bael took a deep breath and went into the restaurant.
“Hail Demon!” Called out the restaurant staff in perfect unison as Bael walked in. They stopped what they were doing and turned to greet him with happy smiles on their faces.
“All hail Baron Bael-Sharoth!” They called out, still shouting in unison. “Hail the death bringer! Hail the lord of torment! You are our salvation and destruction! All hail the architect of the apocalypse!” Then, as if nothing had happened, they returned to their work.
A smiling young man directed Bael to a table where Maharet and Six were already seated. A waiter took his coat and put a second basket of freshly baked bread on the table. They knew Bael well enough by now to understand that one basket would not be enough. There was a second bottle of wine in front of Maharet for much the same reason.
***
“Woah, that was really weird.” Said a thirty-two year old day trader to his twenty-five year old date. “I wonder why they didn't do that for us.”
“Maybe they didn't do it because we only ordered dessert.” Christine prodded her overpriced chocolate mousse with a spoon. Calum was a nice guy. But she didn't really see things going anywhere between them. He talked a big game about marriage and starting a family. But when the woman in the gray dress walked in it was like Christine had ceased to exist. She was completely colorblind, (which was rare for a woman). But even she could see that was a huge red flag.
“Yeah, that must be it.” Calum thought about the ring in his pocket. “So, Christine. I was thinking. We have been dating for a year now and…”
“Oh, you're saying we should see other people?” Christine said hopefully, her eyes wandering over to the tall man in the nice light gray shirt. He was very handsome and she liked the streaks of silver in his hair. It made him look distinguished.
“Yeah…” The day trader replied, realizing that there was no point in asking. She obviously had other plans for the future. “You're right. I think we should see other people.”