Covens and Proxies

42

"There was so much...." You mutter as he opens the door.

"Yeah. It-it might be like this for a few weeks." He lets you go, tossing the bags onto his bed before getting his shirt off and throwing it into the dirty laundry pile.

You nod, sitting down to take your own clothes away. Over the course of his 'vacation' you'd both gotten used to the other sleeping in bare-minimum clothing when in the same bed. Otherwise, either one of you would rather sleep naked. At least during summer. But since most of the pasta in the mansion like to slow roast while they sleep, it feels like summer all the time.

He lays down, pulling you with him, and relaxes into bed. You trace some of his scars and listen to his heartbeat, thinking over all that's happened.

"Will you be-be happy here, (Y/n)?" He asks, unsure of his voice.

You think about it, though it's not hard to decide. You roll on top of him and lay down, "As long as I'm by your side, I'll be perfectly happy anywhere." He chuckles breathily, wrapping his arms around you. "Why? Do I not seem happy?"

He shakes his head. "No. I just... Know you-ou can hide your real feelings when you wan-t to." His hand traces your spine at a soothing pace.

"Do you want me here?" You ask, following the edge of an old bullet wound.

He stops, sitting up so you're looking at him. He's staring at you with enough intensity and passion to melt tungsten. "I don't wan-want to ever leave you're side again." He clarifies, holding your head between his hands.

You smile, taking on of his hands in your own. "Then we're in agreement. I just stay with you. No matter what."

He grins, kissing you lightly and pulling you back down next to him.

You let yourself drift into unconsciousness in his arms, face resting against his chest as his breath echoes in your ears and his heartbeat beats throw your body.
~

The following morning, there is no explosion that shakes the house. As a matter of fact, there's no sound at all. You sit up, taking note that Toby is still deep asleep, and get dressed. Peeking out the door, the hall is deserted, but you assumed that's not anything special. You shut the door, making sure to lock it, and head downstairs. Still, no people. Even in the lounge, no one's awake. You move on to the kitchen, almost sighing in relief when you see Eyeless Jack there wrapping some... Goods.

He looks up when you walk closer and nods. He's not one of many words, although you doubt he'll try to kill you. "Where is everyone?"

He seems confused a moment, as though the answer were incredibly obvious. "Most of them are on a morning patrol or spree."

"What about the rest?"

"The rest are paranormals are doing their own jobs in their own dimensions." He shoves the wrapped kidneys in the fridge.

You glance at the clock, taking a moment to process that it's only 4:37 in the morning and you only slept for an hour. "Oh..." Is all you manage. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Stashing my stock before going to bed." He walks out without another word, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You run after him, an idea coming to your head. "When do most of them get back by?" You call, as he's already halfway down the hall.

He glances back. "Around seven. The paranormals are usually done with their jobs around six." EJ disappears around the corner, leaving you grinning like the devil.

You walk back into the kitchen, momentarily admiring it's space and capacity. It looks like it belongs in a high-string restaurant. Except it's dirty. Dishes stacked in the sink, counters stained from blood, seasonings and sauces, everything in complete disorder.

You set to work, first rinsing and organising the dirty dishes in the dishwasher--those that don't fit you work over by hand. While those run, you tidy up the fridge and cupboards before putting the rest of the dishes away. Scrubbing everything clean is an entirely different issue--as most everything has practically become part of the counters.

Still, you scrub them until they look brand new, probably for the first time since they were installed. When you look at the clock again, it's 6:17.

Digging through the fridge and cupboards, you find ingredients for pancakes, waffles, hash browns, French toast, oatmeal, parfaits, biscuits and muffins. Summoning your book, you set to work on the items that need the most time--muffins and biscuits. Leaving both of those to be stirred, rise and poured with simple charms, you start on the pancakes and waffles. Putting the muffins in the oven, the leaving the biscuits to rise and throwing the first round of batter onto the grills.

Oatmeal and hash browns are left bubbling and sizzling, the oatmeal continuously being stirred with another charm. Meanwhile, you whisk eggs for French toast, set a new batch of pancakes and waffles to go and put the biscuits in the oven while pulling out the muffins. You let the French toast sit on the grill while setting to work on the two types of eggs you're best at.

As you'd guessed and predicted, everything is finished at roughly the same time. Meanwhile, others have gathered to watch the process. Toby jumped in at some point to help, but you'd hardly noticed. Thankfully, Helen and Brian helps carry things to the table while the last of the pastas gather.

Most of them are smiling, though Clockwork and Jeff look pissed about it all. You sit next Toby, watching with pride as most everyone enjoys the meal.

"When did-did you wake up?" Toby mutters to you, his own stack of waffles disappearing fast.

"Early enough to clean that disgusting space." You mutter. "I only slept for an hour."

He's visibly puzzled, enough to pause in eating. "Why? What-what's wrong?"

You smile, patting his forearm. "Nothing was wrong. I just wasn't tired enough to sleep much."

Jeff comes up behind you, tapping your shoulder with the blunt of his knife. "What the fuck is all this for?" He demands loud enough for everyone to hear.

You don't really understand a moment, realizing most of them probably wouldn't do this for each other. You debate having a little fun with him, but decide against it. This isn't a group you want to screw with.

"I had nothing better to do." You say simply. "And I like cooking. I haven't been able to cook for a large group in a while, so I figured it'd be fun."

He's glaring at you before a biscuit is thrown into his face. You look across the table to see Angel glaring at him. "Take the damn favor and enjoy it, Woods." She calls to him, making everyone snicker.

You stand up, looking as polite as possible. "I don't want a returned favor. I'm not doing this to get on anyone's good side. I'm doing it because I can and it makes this place function much more smoothly. If you have an issue with how I'm handling my transition here, you, and Clockwork, can both die of the Black Death." As you talk, his nose starts to bleed, his lips seeping blood.

Shaking, he dabs at the blood now trailing down his upper lip, eyeing it before glaring at you again. Clockwork runs out of the room, holding a hand to her mouth. Everyone is watching with rapt attention. He nods, turning and walking stiffly out of the room. You don't realise there was chilled aura around you until you breath a sigh and it goes away, sitting back down.

After another moment, the noise comes back and everyone relaxes again. Toby takes your hand under the table, causing you to pause.

"Are you sur-sure you're alright?" He asks.

You hesitate, the question pulling at your gut a little. "Yeah. I'm fine." You tell him, squeezing his hand and putting on your best smile.