Curses and Cream Puffs

Besides the Mortecombe blunder, Lena and Damien were one a roll. They handled each situation smoothly and with minimal problems. For the most part, violence wasn't necessary. Damien had started to notice a trend among the reports. Very few seemed to be actual concerns. Oksana Mortecombe had really tried it with the luring act. They'd have to find out where she had run off to. This time, Damien would be ready for the fight and Lena wouldn't have to use awkward methods to snap him out of it. Like she said, they didn't talk about it again. Still, it lingered around them.

After reporting back, Rupert had given Damien a few days to rest and recover. Damien had lied to him and said they never found Oksana, and to his surprise, Rupert wasn't upset. Rather, he handed Damien the thing he had nearly forgotten. The reward money. It was more than a considerable amount, and only for a few completed jobs. It was clear why hunters could live the lifestyles that they did.

He sat on the floor of his house, counting out the money and splitting it into two. Lena watched him from the kitchen where she was chopping up vegetables. He gestured for her to come over and she did, wiping her hands on her apron.

"This half is yours," he told her.

She looked at him with surprise. Clearly, she hadn't expected this. She slowly sat down beside him, picking a gold coin off the top of one of the piles and examining it.

"It's real," he promised her.

"I know," she said. "I just thought-"

"That I'd keep the reward money for myself?" he finished. "I couldn't do that. It would be shameful. I wouldn't have been able to do any of those jobs if it wasn't for your help."

"I don't know what to say," she said. "I don't know if it's right for me to take reward money for a witch hunt."

"Think of it this way," Damien suggested. "You're not taking money for a witch hunt. You're taking time out of your own life and taking great risks to help save others, and this is just compensation for that. So you don't have to worry about working on top of it."

She thought for a moment, then gave him a smile and a nod.

"I can live with that," she said. "I suppose I should start trying to put money together to find another place to live and you won't have to sleep on the floor anymore."

Damien looked away so she wouldn't see the shift in his expression. He wasn't sure why he felt bothered and somewhat sad by the idea of her leaving. She was good company, and the food was good. Things would be quiet with her gone.

"Well," he said finally. "I guess we'll have to start saving for that. So my furniture can go right back where it belongs."

She laughed softly and shook her head.

"If you think that was where it belonged, then you're dead wrong," she said.

Damien started to put the money away, thinking for a moment. He had nearly forgotten about the dinner invitation. His mother was starting to ask when they'd come to visit, and Damien hadn't even told Lena about it. He supposed now was as good a time as ever. They were getting along nicely.

"We have a couple days of rest," he said. "Did you, uh, have plans?"

"Plans?" she repeated, raising a brow. "With all of the great friends I have here?"

"I thought it would be polite to ask," he said sheepishly.

"Why?" she asked. "Are you finally taking me to my witchy demise?"

"I hope not," he grimaced. "Don't jinx anything."

She frowned and shifted to face him, looking concerned now.

"What is it, Damien?" she asked. "What do you need to tell me and why do you look nervous?"

"I... may or may not have accepted a dinner invitation from my parents. So they can meet my new wife. And it may or may not be tonight."

She stared at him blankly. For a moment, he feared she would pass out. Then she angrily lunged at him and pinned him down, smacking him silly.

"HOW. COULD. YOU. NOT. TELL. ME?!"

She yelled at him between smacks and he raised his hands to cover his face defensively.

"I didn't want to scare you!" he stammered. "Stop hitting me!"

"Scare me?!" she said in exasperation. "So you waited until the last minute?! You didn't think that I needed time to come up with a story?! Or time to do my hair or find something to wear?!"

"We have a story," he said, voice cracking. "And you... look nice? I thought that was a nice dress-"

"It's not a dinner party dress!" she scowled, smacking him again.

"Does it even matter?!"

She looked down at him, then got up and started towards the kitchen. Damien realized that she was reaching for her rolling pin just before she got to it and leaped forward to grab her and hold her back. She struggled against him but he held her wrists.

"Let go," she snapped. "I'm not doing anything you don't deserve."

"Relax," Damien told her. "I'll let go once you relax and talk to me calmly."

She glared at him and stopped struggling, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You'll be fine," Damien promised her. "It's just dinner. My mother may ask you some questions, but more likely than not it'll just be small talk about you and your interests. My father will be there physically, but his mind will be elsewhere. He won't care much unless you bring up the witch hunts. Louis will never stop being awful, but he can't say anything dumb or rude in front of my mother. She won't have it. We'll be home right after dessert, I promise."

She was quiet for a few moments and seemed deep in thought. Finally, she uncrossed her arms and sighed.

"Fine," she said. "I need to start getting ready."

"Great," Damien said. "We'll leave around-"

"We leave when I'm ready," she said, a warning tone in her voice.

She gave him one last punch in the arm for good measure on her way upstairs. He winced, but didn't say anything. Honestly, this had gone better than he expected. At least she agreed to go.

It took a little longer than he expected for her to get ready, but after hours of waiting she finally emerged back downstairs. He stared a little too long at her. She had gotten nicely dolled up, and while her clothes were nothing outrageous or expensive, she had done a lovely job of dressing it up. Her cheeks and lips had a natural pink tint to it and her hair was nicely pinned up.

"Alright, let's go," she said.

He snapped out of his slight daze and nodded, offering her an arm to walk her outside. It wasn't too long of a walk from his home to the Astor Manor, but it was a complete change of scenery. Lena seemed intimidated by the massive house and the large emblem on the front of the gate, but Damien gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I promise you'll be fine," he said. "Oh, and there's one more thing."

He took a small pouch out of his pocket and opened it to take out a slim gold wedding band. She looked at it for a moment, then looked to him.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

"I picked it up this morning," he said. "Just to keep up the story."

She looked at it again, then held her hands behind her back.

"Is this how you did it in the story?" she asked innocently.

Damien rolled his eyes.

"Lena, we're already late. There's no time for this."

"Not with your complaining, there isn't."

He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was around or near the windows of the house. He awkwardly got down on one knee, holding up the ring to her and trying not to sound annoyed when he spoke.

"Lena," he said. "Will you do me the honor of pretending to be my wife for the next two hours so my father doesn't send us both to our graves?"

She gasped dramatically.

"Oh, I will," she said breathlessly, taking the ring and slipping it onto her finger. "Now come along, we're late."

He brushed dirt off himself as he stood, then led Lena to the door. Normally he would have just walked in, but he opted to knock instead. A maid opened it, taking a chance to peek at Lena and get the gossip for the rest of the house staff before everyone else. She seemed pleasantly surprised by what she saw. They didn't get a chance to say anything before Emelia appeared, shooing the maid away.

"Go set the table," she ordered. "Damien, my dearest. This must be Lena. Come in."

Lena stayed close to Damien, eyeing Emelia hesitantly.

"My name is Emelia," she said, taking Lena's hands in hers. "I'm Damien's mother. Oh, but you must already know that. Forgive me for rambling... I've just been waiting to meet you. We never really expected this, but Damien always was the black sheep of our family. We shouldn't be surprised that he'd choose to marry so suddenly. And what a lovely wife he's found!"

Lena seemed a little stunned at the perky little angel that was Damien's mother. At least, on the outside. Emelia had some darker sides to her views, and they were only hidden as long as Lena stayed hidden. For a moment, Damien thought Lena might have been frozen with nervousness. Then there was a sudden change in her demeanor and she gave Emelia a warm smile, giving her hands a squeeze.

"I'm so happy to be here," she said. "Damien has told me so many wonderful things about his family. He's so wonderful, and I know that he must come from such a beautiful family to be the man he is today."

Damien just turned red and looked down at his feet. She was making it all up, but it was still embarrassing.

"Oh, my darling," Emelia said. "I didn't know what to expect, but you are a dream come true. Please, come in. Rupert is just... ugh, where is he? Rupert! Rupert!"

Emelia let go of Lena and rushed into the parlor, presumably to fetch her husband who had opted not to come to the door. A maid took Lena's coat as they heard Emelia's muffled scolding in the other room. Lena looked up at Damien.

"How was that?" she whispered.

"You've successfully infiltrated enemy base," he whispered back jokingly.

This seemed to calm her nerves a bit and she laughed softly. A few moments later Emelia came back with Rupert in tow. He looked exhausted already as he gave Damien a nod, then turned his attention to Lena. He held out a hand and tried his best to shake hers gently, though it just came off as a little awkward and uncomfortable. Leave Rupert in a room with ten attackers and he wouldn't flinch, but in social situations he was an absolute mess.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lena told him.

"Hmph, uh, yes," he grunted. "Dinner. This way."

Emelia elbowed him and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We're very happy to have you join us tonight," he said in all the fake politeness he could muster.

Emelia took Lena's arm, gesturing towards the dining room.

"Forgive my husband," she said. "When we were married, they didn't tell me I'd be wed to an early hominid."

Rupert just let out a deep exhale and starting walking with Damien. He was red again, this time embarrassed by his parents. Contrary to what one might have believed, this was actually going well. If Rupert was uninterested, it meant he didn't suspect a thing. Now Damien had to keep it that way.