Closed End To Beginning

[Rupert Cresswell]

Mood-lit walls echoed with the light clinks and easy chatter of a room of satisfied diners, and Rupert was very pleased to count himself among their number. For all his concerns, today had been surprisingly easy. The conference was a conference, and while they had been attending together, it had given Rupert and Monty plenty to discuss, easily filling many an awkward silence. The fascinating subjects raised had carried them through dinner as well, alongside a frankly excellent meal, and every moment of the date had flowed with a natural ease Rupert hadn't expected, and certainly wasn't used to. Every other date in his life had felt like an exercise; time to flex his charm muscles, to see just how well he could twist another person to his wishes.

With Monty, everything was different. Far from a trial; today had been an easy outing with a person he liked and respected - almost the same as spending the day as friends, with the low undertone of flutterings of something more, something special. And now here they were, dessert plates empty and drinks waning as they finished discussing the particularly interesting nuances of a presentation on synthetic wand cores. The evening was drawing to its close, they both knew it, and in Rupert's extensive experience, he knew exactly what was supposed to come next. But with Monty... nothing felt quite that simple. Rupert took another light sip of his whiskey, sighing in contentment as he leaned back in his seat. "Today has been a delight. I must compliment you on your choice of restaurant again, I'll have to keep this place in mind for future."

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty took a sip of his wine, hiding the smile that had become a permanent fixture on his face that evening. Considering he had never been on a real date before, it was going remarkably smoothly. The conference had been even more interesting than he'd expected, the dull parts brightened by the fact Rupert was sitting beside him, and dinner had been a great success. Conversation flowed easily, and more easily still after a glass of wine; Monty was on his second and had, as a consequence, revealed some passionate opinions on the subject of synthetic wand cores.

He felt comfortable. That was unexpected. The wine helped, of course; but from experience he knew that alcohol alone was not enough to put him at ease. There were several ways the evening could end, some of them sooner than others, and the uncertainty excited him. Did he have a preference? Perhaps. In fact, he knew exactly what he wanted. But though he had never felt more sure of his own feelings, he was rather less sure about his date's. Rupert seemed to be enjoying himself - he had expressed so just now - but that was no indication of what he hoped would happen next. Or was it? Monty was hopeless at this sort of thing.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said. "I came here by myself after the first conference. You know, it's funny; I almost thought to invite you then, but I was a bit worried you might think I was asking you on a date. Now look at me - shamelessly seducing you with interesting facts about boomslang venom." Monty grinned. There were very few people in the world with whom he felt free to be himself. And he could listen to Rupert talk for hours; the man had such a fascinating view of the world, of magic, of politics. Sometimes Monty wondered what lay beneath all that. He wanted to know. He wanted to know what frightened him, what moved him, what angered him. Nobody was as perfect as Rupert appeared to be. Who was he, really, when he let his guard down?

A party of eight were settling down at a nearby table. The noise had been growing steadily for the last half-hour, and now it reached an intolerable level. "Shall we go?" Monty asked, catching the attention of a passing waitress. "I'll get this. I invited you."