Breakfast in the Penthouse
The bacon fat spit and sizzled when Jonas Foster tossed the raw meat into the frying pan, temporarily drowning out the former death mage’s words.
"…so that’s when I hit her," he said, turning around and leaning on the opposite counter. His dark eyes shifted from Ax to Betre, both sitting at the kitchen bar with their morning beverages.
Betre reached for the creamer pitcher and began stirring half & half into his coffee.
"Interesting. So she was simply pointing out the obvious, and you decided to break her nose?" The demon glanced up at Jonas, his hands delicately spooning sugar into his cup. "What is it with you and bleeding the women you love?"
Jonas bit his lip, ignoring the hiss and spatter of the bacon behind him. "I don’t know. I just couldn’t stop myself, she was making me so angry. I really wish I hadn’t broken her nose."
"That’s nothing to worry about, Jonas," Ax said, topping off his glass of orange juice. The juice overflowed the glass and ran over his white-knuckled hand, pooling on the marble countertop. He put the pitcher down with a trembling hand, and blinked at the puddle of juice. Gnawing his lip, the demon’s dark grey eyes shifted to Jonas, and he shifted uncomfortably on the backed bar stool. "Andrew and Bertram have set broken noses before! Hell, Bertram’s nose has been broken dozens of times, and you can’t tell! You didn’t do any permanent damage."
Betre sighed heavily and passed Ax a handful of paper napkins as Jonas turned back to poke at the burning bacon. "That’s not precisely the point, Ax," he said, keeping his gaze on the former death mage, ignoring the pitiful look of the demon beside him. A sip of coffee, and Betre’s storm-grey eyes rested speculatively on Jonas. "So. You’re finally in love, and with another fae."
"I know," Jonas groaned, leaving the bacon to its’ own devices and turning back to Betre with a frown. "And I broke her nose. I really don’t know how the hell I’m going to make up for that." He turned to the bacon for a moment, and finally pulled the pan off the heat. Scraping at the blackened strips, he gnawed his lip, looking at Betre. "Roses?"
"Everyone loves roses," Ax said quickly, his stone-grey eyes dewy. The demon tried to take a sip of his juice and sloshed it across his chin.
Betre slid another handful of napkins to Ax and smirked at Jonas. "Oh, wouldn’t that be perfect. Give the current love of your life something that the former love of your life adored. You do realize that *everyone* remembers how much Dia loved roses, correct? And that a bouquet of roses, coming from you with a declaration of affection, would be like opening a very nasty can of very violent worms?"
Jonas looked at the burnt and cracking strips of bacon and sighed. "Damn." He thumped the grease-filled frying pan on the counter and moved to the fridge. "What about…dinner? I could make her something, or take her to Kearna’s."
"Dinner’s lovely. Everyone loves dinner, and you cook so well." Ax’s eyes followed Jonas’s movement, and his smile was wobbly as he tried to shift his weight forward on the stool. A wave of orange juice splashed on the marble counter, spattering Betre’s sleeve.
The demon curled his lip and slid another clump of paper napkins to Ax. "How very delightful. Take the anti-social, psychotic creature into a public area and make a sexually oriented move towards her. Or better yet, try and convince her that being alone with you in a dark dining room in a private home is the perfect gesture for a budding relationship."
The fridge door slammed, and Jonas straightened, holding three eggs in each hand. His frown was heavily drawn, and he cracked the eggs carelessly, ignoring the flicks and chips of eggshell that landed in the yolks. Instead of a whisk, he picked up a wooden spoon and began scrambling them, heedless of Betre’s disgusted expression. The demon loathed scrambled eggs.
"What about chocolates? Every woman I’ve ever met loves chocolate." Jonas poured the yellow mess into another frying pan, turning the heat up as he sloshed the liquid a little, settling it.
"Oooo, I love chocolates," Ax said eagerly, his hands jerking a bit as he moved on his stool. Orange droplets marked the movement of his hands holding the glass.
Betre slid more napkins to Ax. "Wouldn’t that just be lovely- giving the most unfeminine woman I’ve ever met a big, heart-shaped box of chocolates. Are you *trying* to get killed, Jonas?"
"There’s got to be something I can give her to show her that I love her," the former death mage fretted, poking at the congealing mass of egg. He blinked, then beamed at Betre. "A sword! I could have Ax make her a sword!"
Ax’s jaw sagged as he gaped at Jonas, who was grinning at the pale lump of egg sizzling in the pan. His clenched hands jerked, sending a tsunami of juice across the counter. Betre yanked his arm to safety just in time, then sighed again and passed Ax the napkin dispenser. "Did you just think about what you said, Jonas?" Both the death mage and Ax looked at Betre, their expressions hilarious. Jonas with huge, hopeful eyes, looking to Betre to offer further advice, to confirm that such a thing would indeed be the ideal gift. Ax with the look of a thrice-beaten beagle puppy, clearly hoping Betre would point out the irony in having Jonas’s unrequited admirer make a sword for his psychotic interest. The storm-eyed demon smothered the grin that was threatening to surface and looked to Jonas. "Just consider that for a moment. You’re giving a *demon-made sword* to a woman whose nose you *broke.* Jonas…" He sighed and shook his head. "If you want to commit hara-kiri, we can find a much easier way for you to accomplish it."
Ax gaped at Betre, and his hopeful expression shattered like paper-thin glass. Jonas scowled, missing Ax’s look, and prodded the eggs once more. "Damn it. I know she likes swords."
"Yes, Jonas. And she also likes stabbing smart ass men." Betre took another sip of his coffee, sliding a paper napkin out of the dispenser and handing it to the wet-eyed Ax. "Guess who falls into that category now?"
"I think I was always in that category," he muttered, prodding the eggs again.
Ax shifted a bit, taking a shaky breath. "I don’t think you’re a smart ass," he said, clutching the sodden mass of paper napkins and looking hopefully at the death mage. Jonas
paused in mid-fork and tilted his head, turning to look at Ax for a moment. The demon fairly glowed as he straightened up, his stone-grey eyes wide and hopeful. The former death mage pursed his lips, then grinned brightly.
"A dojo! I’ll find her a dojo she can practice in! Think it’d be good if I volunteered to be one of her training dummies?"
Betre gave Jonas an incredulous look. "Only if you’re not particularly fond of your spleen," he said, one brow lifting. Ax stared at the mass of napkins, his lower lip trembling.
The former death mage shrugged, a grin touching his face. "I don’t mind." He dumped the lump of egg onto a plate and scraped the burnt bacon next to it. Setting it on the counter in front of the demons, he looked at the ceiling speculatively. "I think I need to hop on that dojo idea. She’d really like that. It’d show her that I know her, really *know* her better than anyone else does." His grin spread into a beaming smile, and he nodded at Betre. "Yes! A dojo! That’s got to be it!" Untying the apron, he tossed it onto the counter and fairly skipped out of the kitchen.
Betre watched Jonas’s departing back and sighed, turning his gaze to what passed for breakfast. He swallowed his rising gorge and pushed his coffee cup away. "I’m going to Kearna’s restaurant for breakfast. Do you want to come, Ax?"
The other demon shook his head slowly and dragged the serving plate closer to him. "No…I’m…going to stay…and…" He broke off, tears welling in his eyes, and began forking the lumps of egg and burnt bacon onto his orange-juice spattered plate. Betre rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. He patted Ax’s shoulder, then walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Ax heard the front door close, heard the study door open and Jonas’s voice on the phone, talking to their lawyer and realtor, Charlotte James. He took bite after bite of the tasteless, soggy mass on his plate, his hand trembling wildly. Breakfast began to gain a bit of flavor after a bit, but he didn’t notice.
Tears are salty, after all.