Vineyard [Detective Conan fanfic, Vermouth x Gin]

Chapter 43 Brunch

Author's note: New chapter 43 as of 16/7/2023. I planned for the whole arc, but I was a bit behind schedule. Update soon.

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Chapter 43 Brunch

Gin's opinion about brunch changed drastically through the years. Now he cherished any meals he could nurse a drink in peace. Better yet, in the morning. A fact he would never admit even with a gun to his head. So yesterday when Vermouth told him to go to brunch, he was silently relieved until ...

"Vermouth, what do you mean going to the airport?" Answering him was a bright smile and her unsettling silence. Two hours and a half later, he set foot in the bustling airport on foreign soil, rubbed his migraine-induced wrinkles plaguing his forehead, and growled. "Who flew to Paris for brunch?"

The most pretentious meal surrounded by the most pretentious people in the most pretentious city. Just perfect.

"Aw, so you have something better to do but escort your fabulous wife?" Vermouth stood to his side, admiring his gorgeous facial features. His dashing good looks combined with her flawless beauty created a picturesque attraction, successfully interrupting the flow of traffic.

A girl gathered up her courage and approached them with her phone in her hand, asking for a selfie. "Excuse me—"

"Fuck off!" He snapped, shaking the girl to her core.

"I'm sorry. We're in a hurry." Vermouth politely sent the girl away with a smile. Watching the poor stranger scurrying away, she smirked at her grumpy man. "Third time today? Isn't it nice to be appreciated?"

"You just want to parade me around." He snarled through gritted teeth.

"Tut-tut, arm candy." She disapprovingly waved her index finger side to side the same way one would scold a naughty child and gleefully wrapped her arm around his. "Just stand by my side and look pretty."

He groaned to the ceiling high above, then a thought occurred to him. He frowned and turned to the brilliant ray of wicked delight holding his arm. "This isn't because I bought you McDonald's when we were last in Paris, is it?"

"Oh, you mean when there were four Michelin-star restaurants and patisseries just around the corner, but I had to eat a rubbery hamburger for dinner. No, why would I hold it against you?" Her nails raked his thick coat sleeve.

"Twelve years ago!"

"Exactly! Why would I wait all these years for the perfect opportunity to get back at you?" Acid dripped from her dazzling smile.

"Great. Just great." His lips stretched into an outrageously thin line, his tense muscles on the verge of snapping.

"Now let's make everyone jealous of me." She beamed, leading him to the streets of Paris.

Once more his desperate groan reverberated in the air.

***

Gin cooked. In fact, he was a great cook. His guests never left his table hungry even the likes of Shuichi Akai. Thus, what happened on his plate was unacceptable. His fork picked at the microscopic clump of fish that he could balance on a single petal of a rose. He beckoned a waiter over and pierced the poor man with his glare.

The waiter stifled a shiver shooting up his spine, his voice trembling. His usual sultry French broke. "H-how can I ... help you?"

Gin tapped on the table, almost denting the wood. On the bright side, he quickly found snarling in perfect French soothing. "Why is my plate half empty?"