Treat G. Lorimer (omnomnoming) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-09-21 16:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-27, tanith, treat |
It really isn't such a big deal
Who: Treat and Tanith (devastatingly brief Eztli cameo)
When: Lunchtime
Where: Owl's Nest
Tanith had every intention of sleeping to a truly obscene hour of the afternoon, when she heard a horrific noise. For a few moments she had tried to ignore it, but had been largely unsuccessful. Finally she huffed, got out of bed, yanked on a robe, and hurried to the door - only to find Eztli in the hall, scratching at said door. Slivers of wood that had once been part of her door lined the carpet. "What are you doing?" she screeched. Oh no, no way he was getting in her room. The house was bad enough.
"You have a lunch-date with Treat," Eztli reminded her. With all the horrors of the previous day, Tanith had blocked it out.
"Like hell I do," she finally snapped. "Go find a mouse to chase." And so, the typical Tanith-Eztli banter commenced. It went on this way for twenty minutes, at one point Tanith even slamming the door in the cat's face, but she quickly realized that with Eztli in the house, he could still speak directly to her head pretty much anywhere she went. Eventually, she caved. The furry bastard had already proved many times that it was going to make her suffer. Normally she'd fight it to the end, but with what had happened yesterday, she didn't dare draw any more attention to herself. So she showered, dressed, and glamoured away her marks and bruises. The result was the exact opposite of what she had been yesterday: refined and perfectly put together in an expensive little black dress. She would not be made a fool of two days in a row.
She informed Eztli that he was to stay, and hurried off to round up a driver. Who, honestly, looked rather terrified of her. Tanith usually took her bike. Both the curve-hugging dress and the patent leather pumps made this more dangerous a thought than usual today. Today she was of a mind to use every perk and take advantage of one of the Town Cars and chauffeurs. Fuck it.
Treat had spent the morning trying to get settled in. The desk from the House of Interest had come and it had taken the delivery men an impossibly long time to transport it from their truck through the house to the study Treat wanted it situated in. The house itself was too large for him, with two floors and four bedrooms. The cats had free rein in the yard and they had their own bedroom and playroom but that still left him with two empty bedrooms he had no idea what to do with. He could potentially split the cats up but there was absolutely no point when Kaleb and Friday sneaked in to curl up on his chest anyway. Maybe he could pull and Angelina Jolie and adopt some Vietnamese baby. The thought of a child in the house made Treat wince. He'd never imagined having kids. Even with...whatsherface.
When noon crawled close, however, Treat was in his room, dressed up and changed. He'd chosen a casual button up shirt and a nice pair of slacks accessorized with a painfully expensive watch. From his reading, the Owl's Nest was a nice restaurant, but nothing that would require a suit. And, besides, it was lunch time. And hot outside. He didn't want to look like he'd just walked through a rainforest when he got to the restaurant. Combing his hair so that it looked like it wasn't even styled, he picked his keys up and headed towards the cats' playroom. A quick count told him that everyone was present and accounted for except Friday and the twins. The twins were, he knew, upstairs and curled up in their little blankets taking their fiftieth cat nap of the day. Friday, however, was a cause for concern.
As he continued on his way out, he picked his jacket up from the coat rack and slung it over an arm, looking around for his missing cat. Doors to every other room were closed, which meant she couldn't have gone anywhere. The first thing he did after coming home yesterday was to cat-safety the house. Suddenly, something was weaving itself around his legs. Looking down, it was his missing Chartreuse. "No, you can't come along," Treat said gently, scratching Friday behind the ears. "Tanith has a cat that could eat you in one gulp," he explained, unwinding the cat from his legs and sending her off towards their play area. He checked his watch. Cats safe for the time being, he was ready to go.
He arrived at The Owl's Nest before Tanith did and requested a booth that was by a window so they'd have some semblance of light. It was cozy, but not as private as a booth in the corner but as he wasn't planning anything that would require the privacy of a corner booth, the light was fine. It also gave him a nice view of the entrance to the restaurant so he could watch people coming in. Perhaps Cameron might even drop by today. Who knew? He still needed to get in contact with the man. Settling in, he open the wine menu and began perusing the options. 2006 Bienvenue-Bâtard-Montrachet, not bad for a small town.
Tanith was still trying to plot out a way to skip this when the car stopped at the restaurant. At the end of the day, she just didn't know if it was possible to lie to a familiar. And if one couldn't, and she attempted it -- she was absolutely certain Eztli would make things a million times worse. Fucking cat.
She checked her glamours one last time before the chauffeur opened her door. She still couldn't believe she'd let her guard down enough for that little Moriarty bitch to nail her one - with her own magic! Sighing, she ignored the chauffeur's open hand and got out of the car. "Wait for me," she commanded. "I don't care if the supposed Head Bitch in Charge herself calls. Understood?" After receiving a weak confirmation, Tanith strode inside, looking around for That Damned Cat's co-conspirator.
Treat was still reading the wine list when Tanith arrived and if she hadn't been wearing the same angry face he remembered from yesterday, he might have ignored her. As it was, Miss Angry Water Elemental cleaned up nicely. Treat smiled a little as he raised a hand to show her where he was seated. They both knew this wasn't a 'real' date as far as 'dates' go, so Treat let himself break proper decorum and looked. She looked really nice in her little black dress (which Treat thought was sort of adorable to begin with). He stood when she arrived at the table to welcome her.
Okay, so it wasn't a real date but he was still a gentleman. Kind of. Well. Sometimes. Ish. "Good day, Miss Tanith. Thank you for joining me," he said graciously, leaving the wine menu on the table and open on the page he had just been reading. He wondered if he should stretch it with a kiss of her hand but decided against it. He was a gentleman-kinda-ish. Not some wannabe Don Juan. Besides, it was tacky and people were so concerned about germs nowadays. And who knew where her hands had been? Well. Instinct told him to pull out her seat for her but, again, strong independent American women did not take kindly to gestures like that. Something about how long women fought for suffrage.
The fact that he always seemed to insist on attaching 'Miss' to her name wasn't lost on Tanith, and it did bring her some dark amusement. He was only off by a syllable. For a moment, she had the sadistic desire to correct him - to let him know that her title was Mistress Tanith, and not to forget it - if only to see the look on his face. She didn't. The thought of it throwing him off was delicious. Problem was, based on their encounter yesterday, she had the sinking feeling he would all too happily roll with the idea. "Lorimer," she greeted back, neatly seating herself. She didn't smile, but then again, Tanith rarely smiled. The best one ever got out of her was a smirk, and it was usually at someone else's expense. "The Cat sends his regards." Fucker.
Treat took his seat when Tanith did and noted the use of his last name. Obviously, it was meant to be snarky. "Treat will do just fine, Miss Tanith," he said with a smile. He flipped the wine list closed and propped it up by the flower display on the side of their table. "That's sweet of Etzli. Tell him his regards were welcome." Their server came by, introduced himself and left menus with them. Treat opened his menu and scanned the selection quickly. It was certainly better fare than the diner yesterday but the conversation at the diner had been less tense. "What would you recommend?" Treat asked Tanith idly, knowing she had suggested the restaurant, not knowing that she didn't really frequent it for more than alcohol. "Have I told you you look lovely today?" he added with another smile.
Tanith was unable to hold her tongue this time. "I thought I might start out a step ahead of our previous meeting and dress for the occasion," she replied, easy as could be. Yes, clothes were a wonderful start. Tanith had little in the way of modesty, but there was still pride to take into consideration. "Oh yes, Eztli's sweet as can be. Damn near shredded my bedroom door when I was of a mind to sleep in today." She sighed while she opened her own menu, refusing to admit to herself that she felt so bloody awkward. "I've never been any further than the bar. This is going to be a learning experience for both of us," she answered, laying those cards on the table. Before she had taken her current position at Ad Gustum it had been out of her price range, and now - hey, private chef, why the hell bother?
Shrugging, Treat flipped his menu page onto the entrees. "I liked the view either way," he responded, looking down at the page. Treat was about as immodest as one got (in private, of course - one always had to keep up appearances) and he had little when it came to pride as well (again, privately). Treat reclined and propped the menu up just a little bit as he raised an eyebrow at Tanith suggesting a restaurant she had never dined at. "I suppose. I do enjoy learning," Treat said, flipping another page. Their server came by again to take their drink orders. "You go ahead, my dear," Treat said, letting her put in her order first. Besides, he still wasn't sure what he was getting.
I bet you did, Tanith thought, rolling her eyes slightly. She caught the raised eyebrow and sighed, realizing she was going to have to converse with him. End of story. "I'm new to town," she said. "Not as new as you - I've been here a little over a month. I don't eat out a lot." She resisted the urge to grit her teeth at 'my dear', and just briefly scanned the menu before going for the seafood pasta. Water elemental going for the seafood, how cliche. Fuck it.
Treat closed his menu. "I'll have some water - flat, French and in a bottle - your house garden salad, dressing on the side - light balsamic, please - and your hanger steak - medium well, just the thinnest ribbon of pink in the middle, if you would - a glass of your best Sauvignon Blanc for the lady if she'll have it and a nice, robust red for me, whatever you recommend," Treat smiled at their server before turning his attention back to Tanith. What, he simply knew what he liked and how he liked to get it. It was as simple as that. "Do you cook for yourself in that incredibly independent woman sort of way?" Treat asked, continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened in between. Treat could cook, sort of, if he followed a recipe in a book. Otherwise, it was generally 'would anyone like eggs and toast?' with him.
Oh. Good. Lord. Tanith felt like she was in a scene in a bad movie. She was going to kill that damn cat one of these days - it may just be worth the insanity. "Not really," she answered. "I have a chef." What the hell. Might as well be honest. To be perfectly honest, Tanith loathed cooking. And cleaning. Any bitchwork, really. It reminded her too much of her childhood. In her poor, bumming around days, TV dinners were just fine with her. And she got too hot standing in front of an oven. "I don't really care about the independent woman movement, I'd just assume make a man do it. Their turn and all. Yourself?"
Treat had a penchant for the melodramatic. This was true, he wasn't about to deny it. It was his sense of humor and general disregard for anything stifling that kept him sane after Bless's untimely death. But that was all in the past and Treat liked to live in the present as much as he could. Treat nodded as she informed him she had a chef. Everyone and their mother seemed to have a chef in Scarlet Oak and he wasn't completely convinced that everyone was just seemingly well-to-do here. He'd eaten at the diner. "A chef, how upper crust of you," Treat smiled. He hadn't really pegged Tanith as the pampered, trust fund sort of girl but he had been wrong before. "I've never considered myself an independent woman," Treat added, in response to her question.
Tanith resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wanted to claw at his. She could have explained herself, and that the chef kind of came with the house, but she didn't bother. "I meant do you cook. Do you do anything other than rescue familiars in distress? It seems to me like you know a lot more about me than I know about you." Like what I look like naked, for instance. "And if you're any kind of a gentleman, I think you ought to remedy that."
Leaning back in his seat, Treat clasped his hands over his knee, which was casually thrown over his other leg. "I don't cook regularly, if that's what you're asking. I've dined out more often than in ever since my ex-fiancee and I settled on an amicable separation before we bothered legalizing our mistake." Since then, mom's been doing the cooking, which is technically out of my house and in hers. "Rescuing familiars is actually something...what is the term? moonlighting. Yes, I moonlight as a familiar rescuer. My day job is family law, though I'm currently on sabbatical until I'm more settled in here. I am a Scorpio and love long walks on the beach," Treat grinned. "And, as much as I wouldn't mind taking my clothes off so we're quid pro quo, I don't think our server would appreciate it very much, though you're welcome to have a private viewing at your convenience. I think that's fair, isn't it?"
"I'll keep that in mind," Tanith replied, temporarily... well, satisfied wasn't so much the word, but he'd given her a real answer at least. Tanith was a rampant bitch, but one who liked to know things. Not necessarily because knowledge was power, but as someone who was expecting the worst at any given moment... well, she just liked to know what she was working with. "How long have you been in the states?" she asked. "Your accent is very light." Her own was now non-existent. Her uncle had insisted her tutor help her shed it as a child, but her own inner thoughts - that little voice in her head, one would say - was still very Australian.
"Please do," Treat chuckled as their drink orders arrived. He took a sip of his water as she asked about his accent. She was showing some form of interest and that was always good, right? Unless she was compiling a dossier on him so she could get a hitman to shoot him in the head. Treat knew he should have accepted that bodyguard from his father. Even if he wasn't talking to the man, his money was still welcome. "I was born and raised here, in DC and in Virginia, though my parents had the accent and we visited Scotland on occasion," Treat cleared his throat and fell into an imitation of his father's deep brogue. "I could do the accent. Diff'cult as piss to understand though." He took another sip of his drink. "I haven't been back in a couple years. I'm supposedly descended all the way from the original MacKenzie, which means I'm really Irish. What about you? Full-blooded American or do you come from some other part of the world?"
Tanith might have smirked at the brief lapse into the accent, but if she did, it was blessedly short-lived. She was not so lucky in with-holding the faint grimace that came at being deemed American. Rather a double-edged sword, that. She didn't want to stand out, but she didn't want to be grouped in here either. She couldn't win. But, what else was new? "I'm Australian," she answered. "I moved here when I was very young." And yet not young enough. Just young enough to know that a good life had once existed, and to suffer greatly when it was yanked out from under her feet. It would have been much better not to have the memories of that life at all, in Tanith's humble opinion.
Mmm, Australia. Lots of lovely people with lots of lovely nightmares, the last he had visited. Then again, when he last visited, it was with bitchface so he tried not to think about it too much. "I got to pet a kangaroo when I visited. She nearly clocked me, though, so I'd like to think I had a near-death experience in Australia. Lovely country, lots of flies." Treat had enjoyed the welcome heat when he went as they'd gone for winter break. And winters in New England were always terrible. "Have you been back since?" Treat poured more water into his glass from the little blue bottle on the table. She was still pretty distant but at least she was answering questions and seemingly making conversation. More wine, barkeep. And keep the tab open.
"No," Tanith shook her head, and she supposed it was odd she didn't have much to say about her homeland. In truth, the question of whether or not she'd ever go back had stopped being a question after a year or so. No chance. There was no point in going back, that little girl who belonged there had died. It was the same reason she'd never tried to find her sister after she ran away. She wasn't Kammie's sister anymore. Kammie wouldn't like this Tanith. "I always moved from place to place, but I've stayed on this side of the pond, so to speak. What brought you to Scarlet Oak?"
Treat kind of felt the same way about Scotland, he supposed. He liked the place and it was kind of magical but he could live with never seeing it again. Same with DC. Less so with Virginia, but it was only because his mother was there. If only she would move to Scarlet Oak, then he'd have no reason to ever go back to that side of the world ever again. Least of all to see his father. The only downside of having his mother move would be that it would turn into a free pass for his father to visit. Despite the distance they kept, they were both apparently quite still in love and spent a lot of time together. Treat was over the concept of love. He'd settle for someone with lots of nightmares who didn't turn into a carnivore. "A friend invited me to see the town and help him with an organization he's trying to start," Treat responded with ease. A little google-fu and he'd figured out Cameron wasn't exactly Harvey Dent in Scarlet Oak. He wouldn't lie if pressed but for as long as he could avoid it, Treat wouldn't name drop Mr. Calvert just yet. "Yourself?" Treat asked. He would have asked what she did for a living but someone with their own personal chef probably didn't need the extra cash.
"What kind of organization?" Tanith asked. Of course. If there was anything that would probably be good not to ask, she'd go straight for it without knowing. And, well, really not caring. She shrugged lightly at the returned question. "It could have been anywhere," she admitted. "There was a job opportunity that fit me well and was close to water. My only requirements." And that was the complete, one hundred percent truth. She always said she could leave any day now, but the truth was she was getting quite used to her current lifestyle. It would be damned hard to walk away from.
"Political," Treat responded easily. "My father, being the Scottish ambassador...I kinda grew up in it and it was unavoidable, really." The statement was paired with a shrug that made it look like he had been forced to be here. In a way, he had been, because if his father simply had more sense in his brain, Treat would never have had to leave DC for Scarlet Oak. Scooting back as their food arrived, Treat simply gave Tanith's statement a vague oh, she does work before he was distracted by his steak. A quick test slice down the middle proved it was cooked to specification before he turned to Tanith. "How is your food?" he asked, not necessarily meaning is it delicious, but is it cooked right? Because seafood could be a little bit touch-and-go in some places.
Somehow Tanith had very little difficulty imagining this man as a politician. Yeah, that sounded about right. "Let me guess, you've jumped on the supernatural rights bandwagon." The man who fought for rogue familiars who didn't know their place would have to be one of them. Some may have found it odd that Tanith hadn't jumped on the supernatural rights bandwagon - being a supernatural herself - but she found it all rather pointless and tiresome. What lawmakers decided concerned her very little - she'd just continue doing her own thing anyway. And if some crazed human rights banner passed to round up the witches, well, everyone would just go back to living in the figurative shadows and lying. How would anyone prove anything? She sampled her meal, finding it was prepared perfectly. "Satisfactory."
If Treat had been asked, he would have said he wasn't a politician. But that would become semantics, because he was quite political. He just...decided against running for office. "The opposite, actually," Treat responded dryly, taking a sip of his water. "I think anything human should be allowed to keep their rights but vampires can hardly be considered a benefit to society," he added. He rarely talked politics on a first date but this wasn't really a date. It was like a meeting, almost. He had to bite his tongue to keep from continuing on about the bastard that had murdered his sister but that was at least seventieth date information. He didn't willingly share unless it helped moved his political agenda along. Nevertheless, pity and sympathy were last resort weapons. He smiled at Tanith's reponse, however, and started slicing his steak. "You're difficult to please, aren't you?" he asked with a small smirk.
Okay. So. Yeah. Tanith was a hard person to surprise. Walking into Domina's office the other day to see Lex with a pink mohawk had probably been the first time she'd been rendered speechless in... ten years? Well consider it a blue moon, because it just happened for the second time in a week. The familiar savior was anti vampires? Really? And why had the day suddenly just become more interesting? Shit. At his question, she actually smiled. It wasn't much of a smile, but about as much of one as anyone could ever hope to get out of Tanith. "Yes, actually. But nigh impossible to let down, so it's not a bad trade-off in the grand scheme of things."
"Lowered expectations?" Treat chuckled. What was it...the key to happiness was lowered expectations? Treat didn't believe in it. He kept his expectations at a reasonable level and when he was disappointed, then he understood that some people were simply not worth the time or effort. On the other hand, the people who kept up were obviously worth it. Well, most of the time. His ex didn't count because she was the biggest letdown in the end. Treat reminded himself he was in the presence of a beautiful woman and should be focused on her instead of past relationships. "I prefer schadenfreude," Treat shrugged as he finished cutting up his steak into tiny pieces. Preferably at the expense of vampires, but I'll take weres, too.
It wasn't irony, not strictly, but something very near to it. Him saying that, not knowing he was in the company of a dominatrix. Who specialized in vampires. Tanith had to chuckle. It was surprisingly warm, but with a quality to it that was just... off, somehow. Not quite self-deprecating, but not far from it either. "You're in good company," she informed him. And I probably sound like I have multiple personalities. Ah. Fuck it. "I'd be very interested to hear more about your organization, if you are willing."
Treat looked up at present company and sighed a laugh. "You won't like it, I can assure you," he said, fully knowing she was a water elemental. "I am in Scarlet Oak at the invitation of one Cameron Calvert. I'm sure you have heard of him. He is against everything that isn't a complete vanilla human, which would include you in the categorization..." Treat paused and then went out a on a limb. "Which would include me, if he knew what I was," he said in a distinct undertone of I am packing so if you tell, I will shoot you. No matter how gorgeous you are. He looked at Tanith. "Personally, I have nothing against anything that's human. Elemental or psychic. My sister, you see, was murdered by a vampire she purportedly trusted. I cannot abide by something that would hurt one so innocent," he revealed. "Still, politically speaking, for as long as I can keep my facade up, Calvert will help me get started on the eradication of vampires, which is all I want." He punctuated the rest of his statement with a shrug. Cameron was a means to an end. He wouldn't abide by the harming of anything human while he was in Cameron's presence but if he had to pretend to be vanilla, he would.
It was then that Tanith was very, very glad that she had made Eztli stay home. Because this man had suddenly become worlds more interesting, and she knew well enough to know that if the fucking cat knew, she'd never hear the end of it. Yes, there was definitely an expression of distaste at the mention of one Cameron Calvert, but Tanith found herself appeased with Treat's comments (and of course, undertone of warning). Hm. Yes, things had just become Interesting. Interesting warranting a capital I. She cared little about this man's sister - that was what vampire's did, and she knew that better than most - but the connection here could possibly be one too good to pass up. They may just find each other to be very valuable contacts. "You're right," she finally answered, after mentally chewing it over for some time. "I have no love at all for Mr. Calvert. The man is a cancerous growth on an already disgusting species, and I would get truly perverse pleasure from the man finding out he wasn't even human and offing himself." Why, no, Tanith Elizabeth Beckett was not one to mince words. "And yet I see the wisdom in your efforts. I have no love at all for vampires, and it may be possible that we can help each other." She thought about this for a moment - debated what was necessary to reveal, and how little she could get away with saying. After all, she made her living off of vampires.
Finally, she decided, and after setting her fork down, she opened her handbag and found a small, silver box. She tended to keep it with her at all times, because on the off chance that someone were to find a way through all her wards and get through her room, it was not something an employee of Ad Gustum should have just laying around. She set it on the table between them, shrugging lightly as if to say, look if you want. Inside was her collection of every vampire fang she had ever removed - some few dozen pairs.
Somehow, the idea of Amanda discovering at some point that her attack had given her psychic powers made Treat grin internally. "Very few people have any sort of affection for Cameron, even those that are supposedly on his side," Treat shrugged, expressing his opinion on Cameron. The other man was 6 years younger than Treat and he felt the distance between them and the difference in maturity very acutely. Treat's eyebrow shot up when she said she shared his distaste for the fanged folk and watched curiously as she retrieved something from her bag. It was a silver box, which was intriguing in itself because vampire sympathizers never had anything silver and to have her carry it around was interesting in itself. He picked it up without a world and lifted the lid open. Her head count was certainly higher than his. Well, technically his only consisted of one. But he was looking at the big picture instead of the one-by-one murders he could commit. "Impressive," he said with a smile, handing the box back to Tanith. "I think that we may be able to form a mutually beneficial relationship, indeed," he responded. Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. "We may want to pick a less busy location for our discussion, however, just in case." He wasn't quite willing to risk his relationship with Cameron just yet. The man might just prove to be useful.
Tanith put the box back in its place, the tiniest of satisfied smiles on her lips. Okay, so she hadn't killed all of those - but she sure as hell would have liked to. Details, details. "I would have to agree," she replied, and even managed to do so with a straight face, completely ignoring the fact that ten minutes ago she would have argued with him if he told her the grass was green. Again: details, details. "Our shared opinion is a painful minority here. And I have a reputation to protect." Moreso, an angry boss and vampire clients who wouldn't want to hear her name attached to such talk. Well what they didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"So do I," Treat inclined his head. She now sort of knew his secret. He wasn't quite human. She didn't know the specifics, which Treat wasn't exactly inclined to share with her because she didn't seem like the type who would indulge him if he shared. Thus, not entirely necessary to tell her the whole truth. Besides, Treat had never believed in 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours.' That was for suckers who didn't know how to play the game. "But what reputation is that?" he asked. She wasn't necessary politically inclined - he would have heard about her earlier - but she had a reputation. What do you do for a living, dear?
"I work with a lot of vampires," Tanith answered, laying it on the line without a moment's hesitation. "They are the worst kind of poison, but it's out of my control. If my clients or my employer were to discover I was attached with any sort of..." Tanith leaned back and smirked as she tried to determine the word. "Resistance, sure, that's a good word for it -- well, things would get extremely uncomfortable. The lifestyle affords me certain privileges though - not the least of which being a lot of inside information." It was an extremely valuable thing, that. Not even just limited to knowing what certain vampires feared - her knowledge of her clients often went far deeper. Their houses, their friends, their sires, their children... She had always reckoned that someday, when it was least expected of her, she could use all that information against them. Perhaps that 'someday' had just fallen into her lap.