Curses and Cream Puffs

Dinner had gone well. Even better than that. That was one less thing to worry about. Although, Damien ended up not sleeping much at night. While he was well aware that all the mushy stuff had been fake, he couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. He lived a fairly black and white life, and the fake affection felt sort of nice.

When he went to pick up his next list of reports, his mother was already deep in raving about Lena to his father. Rupert looked exhausted and perked up when he saw Damien and was able to escape the gushing. Things were moving along much quicker now that he trusted Damien with the work.

When he got back home, Lena was waiting for him, basket in hand. He looked from her to the empty basket, then back to her.

"Do you need something?" he asked.

"I need several things," she said. "Come on, let's go."

"Both of us?" he said.

"We're publicly married now, aren't we?" she shrugged. "You need to get out more. All you do is work, visit your family, and sit on your butt. Come get some fresh air."

Damien sighed, but it didn't look like she was about to let it go. She was delighted when he agreed to come with her. By now, word had gotten out about Damien's "marriage". As he and Lena walked down the street, he noted people looking at them and the occasional whispers as they realized this must have been the woman they were all talking about. Lena noticed this too and took Damien's arm.

"Smile a little, Schmoopy," she teased. "Aren't you so happily in love?"

"Is there a single person in the world that my mother hasn't told yet?" he mumbled.

"I think it's sweet," she said. "She really seems happy for you."

"I'm sorry my father didn't pay you much mind," he said. "Though it might be for the best."

"That's alright," she shrugged. "Has he always been like that?"

"I think so," he said. "As long as I can remember, at least. According to my mother, he was a little uninvolved when they were married, too. Not sure about before the incident, though."

"Incident?"

"Ah, well, it's kind of awkward to talk about," Damien admitted.

"That's okay, you can tell me," she promised.

"Well, his family was killed," he said uncomfortably. "By... uh..."

"Witches?" Lena asked.

"Yeah."

"No wonder he's so serious about the hunts," she said. "Well, I suppose I can understand. To an extent. He must feel the way about witches as I do the hunters. Maybe he can have a change of heart, too."

"Did you have a change of heart about hunters?" Damien asked, raising a brow.

She turned pink and looked down at her feet.

"Most of them are garbage," she said firmly. "But I guess some of them aren't so bad."

"Some of them are husband material?" he suggested.

"Oh, stop that," she said with a light laugh.

They were attracting even more surprised looks now as they walked about the market, joking around and laughing together. Maybe she was right. Damien did need the fresh air. He didn't typically like leaving the house, but with her it was fun. A little while later, he was holding her basket of goodies while she checked over her list.

"I think that's everything," she said.

"That's interesting," he noted. "I thought you'd want to go to the patisserie."

Her eyes widened and her hands dropped limply at her sides. He was a little caught off guard by how shocked she looked, staring at him with her jaw agape.

"What?" he frowned.

"There's a patisserie here?!" she exclaimed. "How could you not tell me?! I thought it was just the bakery!"

"Oh," he said. "No. There's a patisserie. It's a little bit frilly and the cakes are at some high-end prices, but it's-"

"Show me!"

She didn't let him wait around, making him lead her to the fancy cake shop. He wasn't sure he'd seen anyone as excited about anything as she was about the colorful cakes and chocolates. He bought her three different desserts to try when she couldn't make up her mind, and she couldn't have been happier with that decision.

"You're not getting anything?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know. I kind of just came here for you-"

She cut him off by stuffing a forkful of chocolate cake in his mouth.

"Isn't it delightful?" she said. "So light!"

"Ith greath," he said, words muffled.

"It's better than great," she grinned. "And the mousse is such a perfect texture."

"You seem right at home," he said. "Maybe you should take up work here."

"Really?" she asked, perking up. "Do you think they'd take me?"

"They'd be lucky to have a baker like you," he assured her.

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but she was smiling.

"We have more important work to do," she said quietly. "The cakes can wait."

He wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded. When they left the patisserie, it was starting to get a little later in the day. People had cleared the streets to go home, for the most part. Lena and Damien did the same, but when they got back to the house there was a strange feeling in the air. Lena paused when they stepped inside, slowly setting the basket down and grabbing Damien's arm.

"Someone is upstairs," she whispered.

Damien's gaze moved up to the stairs, where the bedroom door was cracked open and there was a shadow moving around. He moved to the trunk by the fireplace and opened it, glad to see all his weapons were still there. He grabbed a knife and slowly made his way up the stairs.

Whoever the intruder was either was too dim to notice him, or didn't care. Sure enough, the man was sitting on the bed, flipping through one of the books Damien kept on his nightstand. He was well dressed with perfectly groomed hair, but when he looked up, Damien noted that his eyes were darker than normal. Lena rushed up too, freezing where she stood.

"Caleb Mortecombe," she said.

"You two were out a while," the man said. "You lovebirds must have been on a romantic walk in the woods, yes?"

"What are you doing in here?" Damien demanded.

"Waiting for you," Caleb said, standing up and straightening out his jacket. "After all the trouble you caused my poor sister, I just want to know why you would do such a thing to hurt her feelings like that."

"Get out of this house before I force you out," Damien warned.

"So rude," he frowned. "Shame on you."

Suddenly the room filled with smoke to the point where Damien could hardly see his hand in front of his face. Lena coughed and he grabbed her arm to let her know he was there.

"Let me guess," Damien said between coughs. "This one has a disappearing act?"

"Yup."

"That's right," Caleb added.

Then he kicked a foot up and hit Damien in the chest, knocking him back into the wall. Damien hit the wall hard and the kick had knocked the air out of him, but he managed to recover and turn before Caleb hit him again. This time he hit the wall and Damien managed to blindly grab him by the arm, swinging him around towards the door. The door burst open and he tumbled down the stairs with several nasty thuds. Damien and Lena both gasped for semi-fresh air when the door opened, but it didn't take long for the rest of the small house to fill with smoke.

Lena fell to the floor and squeezed her eyes shut, and a bubble of fresh air formed around the two of them. It seemed to strain her quite a bit, so Damien knew he only had a few moments to act. Caleb went for her this time, and Damien ran at him, tackling him to the ground. He grunted when he fell and Damien pinned him down, punching him. With the hit, the smoke slightly thinned out.

"This is silk!" Caleb growled, shoving Damien off of him. "Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of silk?"

"That's why I wear all black," Damien said, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and punching him again.

He stumbled back a few steps, then glared at him.

"You'll both be sorry," Caleb warned.

The smoke thickened again, and then cleared out all at once. When it did, Caleb was gone. Damien fell to his knees, coughing and trying to recover. Beside him, Lena let go of whatever spell she was casting and passed out unconscious. He moved over to her and checked her pulse and temperature. She was a little warm, but fine other than that. Damien picked her up and laid her down on the couch, then went to the kitchen to soak a washcloth in cool water. He knelt down next to her and brushed her hair aside, placing the washcloth on her forehead. She weakly opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Did we win?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "We did. Now close your eyes and get some rest. This time it's my turn to help you recover."

She did so and was asleep just moments later. Damien wasn't so sure they had won anything. In fact, he was starting to think they hadn't even made it to the real battle.