Chapter Text
The air stilled as Leonard looked at Klein with a bewildered gaze. He blinked, wondering if he had misheard or if the voice in his head had decided to play a trick on him.
It’s never happened before, but there’s a first time for everything.
In the end, instead of wasting precious time, the Midnight Poet decided to bite the bullet and ask for clarification.
“Are you asking me out?” he asked, doubtful.
Klein’s face scrunched up at the question, looking as if he’d eaten something sour. Leonard’s eye twitched in response.
Okay, I was wrong, but did I really deserve such a reaction? I’m a catch, the poet defended, feeling a heavy blow to his pride.
Plus, he had only wanted to clarify things; shame on the Seer for being too vague.
“I’m trying to apologize for what happened yesterday,” the Seer coughed into his fist. “So to make it up to you, I thought I’d treat you to dinner this evening.” Leonard’s mind blanked once more.
“You?” Leonard began weakly, “Treat me?”
This was indeed a miraculous occurrence. Even in the short time the two had known each other, Leonard was already aware of how much Klein valued his wallet. Unnecessary expenses were a hard ‘no’ for the Seer, with sweets and family being the only exceptions.
Unless Leonard had somehow landed in that latter category, Klein was either excruciatingly remorseful or on the verge of losing control.
Neither sat well with him.
However, it seemed the delay in Leonard’s response was wearing on the young gentleman’s patience as his expression darkened with each passing second. Sensing his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity about to be repealed, Leonard hastily agreed.
“Of course! Sounds great,” he blurted out as he raked a hand through his hair. “What time were you thinking? I’m free whenever.”
The Seer paused, his expression quieting. He looked uncertain.
“Would 6 pm work?”
Leonard nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely.” Then he stopped when another question popped into his mind. “Um, question. Where are we going?”
Klein’s eyebrows furrowed. “This is my treat to you,” he said. “You decide.”
Hearing this, Leonard hesitated. Klein, both willing to spend money on him and let him choose the destination? He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. His colleague raised a brow in response.
“Alright then,” Leonard finally answered. “How about this one restaurant in West Borough. Bonaparte, I believe it was called. I’ve heard a lot of great things about it from clients, but I haven’t had the chance to go. Now seems like an excellent time to try it.”
For a moment, Klein seemed as if he were about to argue with the decision, but thought better of it and stopped. Instead, he nodded in agreement.
“Alright,” he acquiesced. “I’ll meet you here at 6 pm.”
Without another word, the scholar turned and walked away. In the lingering absence, Leonard wondered if he imagined the whole encounter.
In his mind, an older man’s voice chuckled.
“Who could have imagined your little run-in with that stick would be so fortuitous?” The Old Man scoffed. “Well, what are you waiting for? Do you think your colleague will tolerate tardiness? Get to work!”
Glancing at the grandfather clock in the empty breakroom, Leonard realized it was already 4 pm. But given how little time he usually spent getting ready for events, 2 hours was more than enough.
“What’s the hurry? I still have plenty of time,” he retorted, unamused by the sudden haste.
The parasite clicked his tongue. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Leonard tilted his head, mentally going over his list of tasks for the week.
The follow-up investigation into Sirius: Done.
Preliminary investigation into Mr. Z: Pending.
The review of the library incident's police record and official statement: Done.
He even turned in Old Neil’s latest batch of reimbursement slips for him!
What could he have forgotten?
Just then, he recalled the incident from the day before. And it clicked.
“I still need to write my incident report!” Leonard cried in panic.
The Old Man sneered. “Better hurry. Knowing you, you’ll barely make the appointment.”
Would it kill you to be supportive for once! Leonard yelled inwardly as he sprinted to the Nighthawks' office. Across the hall, Captain Dunn raised his head at the noise but didn’t comment.
At the typewriter, Leonard organized his thoughts and planned out his next two hours.
1 hour to type and review. 5 minutes to submit. 5 minutes to run home. Half an hour to get ready and another 5 minutes to get back…
That still gives me 15 minutes of cushion time to meet Klein!
With a pleased smile, Leonard cracked his knuckles in confidence.
Just you watch, Old Man, I’ll make you eat your words! He thought as he started typing.
“You’re late.”
The flat tone in which the sentence was delivered would have had any animal curl into itself in shame. Instead, he felt his shoulders fall as he shifted awkwardly on his feet in embarrassment. He refused to look at Klein for fear of what he’d see in the other’s expression.
It was three hours after they had first separated, meaning Leonard was well over an hour late. He hadn’t realized just how long he had spent typing up the report, so by the time he had finished editing it and handed it in to the Captain, there were only 5 minutes left before the agreed-upon time.
In his frenzy, he had almost hit someone with the entrance door as he sprinted back to his apartment.
Then, to make matters worse, after showering and drying his hair, he found none of his clothes were suitable for a high-class dining establishment. After emptying his closet, he finally stood before the Seer in his typical black pants and untucked shirt. The only difference was that he had switched his twin-tailed coat for a dark colored vest.
All in all, he felt less put-together than when he started.
And the Old Man’s mocking laughter wasn’t helping.
“I’m sorry,” Leonard mumbled. “I forgot I still had to write the incident report from yesterday, and I didn’t notice how late it was by the time I finished.” He looked up in dismay. “I understand if you want to cancel the dinner because of this.”
At his words, Klein’s expression grew complicated. He remained silent for a couple of seconds before massaging the bridge of his nose.
“No, that was my fault,” Klein replied, looking away. “Taking you to dinner after work was too last-minute. I should have asked if there was anything important you had to do before suggesting 6 pm.”
Unable to take this new downcast demeanor, Leonard raised his hands in surrender. “No, if anything, it’s my fault for putting off the report until now. I really didn’t believe it would take me so long until I was already typing it.” He rubbed his nose. “Writing really isn’t my forte.”
Klein huffed. “All the more reason to have asked, instead of giving you such a short deadline. Who knows what kind of error-ridden report you submitted to the Captain.”
“Hey,” Leonard said in mock offense, a small smile already playing on his lips.
Mouth curving upwards, Klein pulled out his pocket watch and nodded towards the security company’s entrance.
“It’s fine,” the Seer allowed, walking to the door. “Luckily, the restaurant you suggested doesn’t require a reservation."
As the pair exited the building and made their way down the stairs, Klein continued speaking. “I already told my siblings I wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight.”
Learning that the restaurant didn’t require a reservation, Leonard sighed in relief. “I see.”
He then paused and rewound the conversation. “Wait, how did you know the restaurant didn’t require a reservation?”
Lifting his cane as he hailed a carriage, Klein didn’t turn as he answered.
“My brother,” he said simply. “He has some colleagues who have been to the restaurant and mentioned being seated without prior arrangement. We’re also rather fortunate they have long business hours.” He looked over his shoulder at Leonard as a carriage pulled up. “That way we don’t need to worry about being kicked out if we dawdle.”
Leonard couldn’t help but mutter, “I’m a slow writer– not eater,” before he followed the Seer into the carriage.
Neither Pallez nor Klein commented.
Once the carriage began its journey, Leonard couldn’t help but glance at his companion, taking note of his clothes for the first time since they met up.
Funnily enough, Klein looked quite similar to how he usually looked, the only difference being his darker slacks and a blue colored version of the vest he normally wore. Seeing the similarities, Leonard felt his own outfit was not so out of place. He grinned absently.
“What is it?” Klein asked warily, noticing the look.
“Nothing,” Leonard answered, retracting his gaze. “Just surprised you still dressed up for a casual event.
The sound of a cane tapping the floor echoed within the cabin. “I think I dressed appropriately enough,” the scholar replied dryly.
The ‘unlike you’ went unsaid.
Sensing the atmosphere growing strange, Leonard racked his brain for something else to say.
“So…” he began. “How did the Captain react after I disappeared yesterday?”
Instead of answering with sarcasm as he had hoped, Klein flinched. The hands resting on his cane trembled imperceptibly if not for the Sleepless One’s enhanced senses. Suddenly, a rock fell in the pit of Leonard’s stomach.
“You really don’t know?” Klein asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.
Leonard swallowed. “I only got a brief rundown of the aftermath. The case concluded without injury, so I didn’t want to make a big fuss about it and ask. All I was told was that you and Rozanne were the worst affected.”
There was a sharp inhale.
“We thought you were dead,” Klein’s voice quivered. For a fleeting second, his composure cracked, revealing the guilt, shame, and fear that his actions had done well to conceal. His knuckles turned white as his hands clenched painfully together. “I thought I’d…” he trailed off.
“Klein, no. It wasn’t your fault!” Leonard assured him as he quickly placed a hand on Klein’s knee. “It was an accident.”
“Even then,” Klein said bitterly. “It could have ended horribly, and I would have been the cause.” He clenched his teeth. “If I had just left that damned stick back in the office. If I had just asked the Captain for a sealing cloth…”
“You didn’t know,” Leonard consoled. He wondered if he should recite a quick poem.
Suddenly, a flash of anger flickered across Klein’s expression. “And that lack of foresight almost killed you. How can you be so unfazed?”
“Who says I’m unfazed?” the poet replied stiffly. His tone softened as he continued. “It’s just that Nighthawks don’t exactly get the luxury to linger on what-ifs. I won’t lie; I was terrified. But then I realized I was fine, despite being… misplaced.” He gave Klein a small smile. “All things considered, it wasn’t the worst experience I’ve had with a sealed artifact.”
Across from him, Klein looked as if he wanted to ask what his worst experience was, but refrained. Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to slump further into his seat, losing the energy to argue.
Then, as a minute passed, Klein opened one of his eyes and pointedly stared at the hand still resting on his knee. As if burned, Leonard quickly retracted it, offering a smile in return. The responding huff deepened the curve.
By the time the carriage finally arrived at the restaurant, it was already half past 7 pm. It was peak dinner hour, and the establishment was filled with diners.
Upon stepping into the packed restaurant, Leonard began to sweat, worried that there wouldn’t be any seats available for them. To his shock, a server approached them and immediately led them to a private booth to the left side of the hall.
The booth was isolated, separated from other tables by columns, red curtains, and a raised platform. There were several such platforms, already occupied save for theirs. Leonard looked at Klein in confusion as they were seated.
“I stopped by earlier to reserve a table for us,” Klein explained from behind his menu card. “It gets busy around this time, and I didn’t want to risk getting turned away if they were full.”
Leonard studied him. “How long did you reserve the table for?”
“The whole night,” Klein replied coolly.
A pause.
“You had no faith I’d arrive on time, did you?” Leonard asked blankly.
“None at all,” the Seer replied in the same tone.
They held each other's gaze until they both broke into laughter, the gloom from before finally fading.
Calming down, Leonard looked down at the menu. The restaurant’s menu was Intis-inspired, with a wide selection of light soups, stews, and salads. For meat dishes, they seemed to have only poultry, lamb, and fish.
Since Leonard had neglected to eat lunch earlier, he decided he wanted to eat something hearty, both to fill his stomach and to recover the brainpower he had lost while writing his report. Regretfully, there weren’t that many options, so he settled for an order of lamb chops and a glass of red wine.
Across from him, Klein ordered the grilled trout, as well as two desserts. Leonard stilled, remembering the prices, and bit his lip. Even if he was hungry, he didn’t want to spend more than Klein could afford. Luckily, he had brought his wallet, so he could pitch in if needed.
He glanced over to the Seer only to lock eyes again. Upon reading something on Leonard’s face, he quietly sighed.
“You have that look on your face again. Really, you don’t have to worry about tonight,” he said as he set down the menu.
“It’s not that I’m worried,” Leonard corrected. “It’s just that having you pay for everything doesn’t feel right.”
“But didn’t you agree to my treating you?” Klein asked incredulously.
Thinking about it, it did sound dumb for him to regret his decision at this point.
“That was more of an excuse to go out,” Leonard admitted, suddenly feeling flustered. “We hardly see each other outside of work…” He tapped on the table to calm himself. “I thought it’d be nice.”
“Then you could have picked a place you were comfortable with.” Klein frowned, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“Alright, alright,” Leonard said, admitting his mistake. “Next time we’ll visit the food market by Saint Selena Cathedral.”
“Next time?”
Leonard froze, the smile slipping from his face. “Ah. Is that a no?”
Klein rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm… I’ll consider it.”
“Under what conditions?” Leonard asked, leaning forward.
A smile. “That you stop fretting over who’s paying.”
“See! That right there–” the poet exclaimed while pointing at the Seer. “Something’s fishy here, and I’m not liking it!”
“What?” Klein asked innocently. This only made Leonard all the more suspicious.
“The real Klein wouldn’t be so free with his spending. So either you’re an imposter sent to infiltrate the Church, or…”
“Or…” Klein urged the other to finish.
Leonard leaned back into his chair, arms crossed. “You found a way to beat the system.” He looked at his companion with expectation. “So which is it?”
Klein sighed for the nth time. “If I answer, will you finally drop it?”
“Yes,” Leonard answered immediately, earning him an expression that read ‘You have to be kidding me.’
“Fine,” Klein groused. “Then, yes, I have a way to pay for all this without dipping into my personal funds. Happy?”
“Absolutely,” Leonard replied serenely. “It all makes sense now.” He ignored the way Klein looked like he wanted to hit him.
“Let this be the last time I ever invite you out,” Klein continued to grumble.
“Oh no you don’t!” Leonard protested. “You already agreed to go with me to the food stalls down the street from the company!”
“I did no such thing.” Klein retorted.
But before the conversation could spiral further, the server came back with their orders. Now faced with delicious food, the two were forced to shelve the topic for another time.
Upon taking his first bite of lamb chops, Leonard could only praise the chefs for their talent.
The succulent meat in his mouth was richer, if a bit tougher, than most steaks he’d eaten. And yet his knife glided right through the chops, melting in the mouth with each bite. The red wine he had ordered was a great complement, refreshing the palate after each sip. And the fruity aftertaste wasn’t bad either.
Before he knew it, the plate in front of him was picked clean, and his glass was nearly empty.
Yet his stomach still hungered for more.
Conflicted, Leonard stared down at his empty plate, debating whether to call back the waiter or grab something on the way back home. But before he could decide, a slice of apple tart was pushed in front of him. He looked to Klein in question.
“Go on,” Klein said kindly. “I ordered that specifically for you.”
Instead of immediately accepting it, Leonard looked at the slice in slight trepidation. He wanted to refuse, but he didn’t want to spit in the face of Klein’s kind act. So instead he nodded and accepted the plate.
“Thanks,” he replied, picking up the accompanying fork. He hesitantly broke off a portion of the bread layered with apples and brought it to his mouth. As he registers the taste, his eyes widen in surprise.
Klein smiled in satisfaction.
The tart was much like some of the pastries he’s had before, flaky and buttery but without the overpowering sweetness he’s come to expect from fruit pies. It’s sour, but not overly so, perfectly accentuating the apple’s flavor. He hummed in appreciation, chewing in delight before lifting his eyes to look at Klein in question.
“I’m aware you’re not a fan of sweets,” Klein chuckled. “And I’m also aware that the portion sizes here are too small for you. So I ordered the tart in an attempt to keep you from starving.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Out of all the deserts listed, it seemed like the safest bet.”
“Klein…” Leonard breathed, deeply touched by consideration.
“Think nothing of it,” Klein insisted as he looked away. “I just didn’t want you to go home hungry. Otherwise, what would be the point?”
Ducking to hide his smile, Leonard brings another bite to his waiting mouth. In the warm and bright atmosphere, hidden in their own little corner away from other restaurant goers, Leonard felt something soft stir in his chest.
Could he have more moments like this?
He sure hoped so.
The next day, Klein entered the security company with a pleased grin and a subtle strut. He greeted Rozanne at the entrance and made his way to the Nighthawk’s shared office space.
Once he was inside, he sat down at the typewriter and swiftly set about filling out his report. After several minutes, he retrieved the document and proceeded to the office across the hall. He came to stand in front of the door, his pleasant smile never dissipating, as he knocked on the wood. Soon, a voice called him inside.
“Captain,” Klein greeted, removing his hat in a bow. “I have a reimbursement form to drop off.”
The Captain stopped writing, looking up in surprise. “Already?” He asked.
Instead of replying, Klein deposited the document in front of the Nightmare, smiling mysteriously before heading towards the door. As he did so, the Captain took the document and began reading. Just as Klein was about to leave, the Captain called him back.
“Klein,” came Dunn’s stern voice. He looked at the page in disbelief.
“Yes, Captain?” Klein replied, smile still present on his face.
Dunn pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know very well that this is not what the Church meant when they promised to cover your expenses.”
“But Captain,” Klein began calmly. “It was a reasonable use of funds.”
The Captain sighed. “How is a bill for a high-end restaurant a good use of church funds?”
“Compensation for emotional damages to a church employee,” Klein responded with ease. “I simply took matters into my own hands. No need to thank me.”
With that, Klein turned and left the office, leaving Dunn, sitting behind his desk, stunned. He stared down at the offending paper with mixed feelings.
“That’s one way to call a date,” Dunn sighed helplessly. He rubbed his forehead in dismay. “I just hope the Holy See approves this.”
Days later, Dunn would stare down at his desk unseeing.
In front of him was a familiar paper, this time with the Church's stamp of approval.