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It was a sunny day in the Laplace Headquarters, but no one knew that, because they were all inside doing important things. Today though, Adler knew that he and Ulrich had no important things to do later, so now it was the perfect time to fulfil his promise and experience the joy of UV rays after he made a mockery of the art of cryptography by choosing that pathetic password.
Adler had walked into the Cryptography office in the late afternoon and was relieved to find that it was only Ulrich there, so his completely unprofessional action of asking out his partner during work hours would be judged by no one. Ulrich pretends he doesn’t exist but Adler can see his ferrofluid form tilt towards him slightly. Prick.
“So…I am here to fulfil my promise.” starts Adler, “Where do you want to go for dinner?”
Ulrich looks up from his computer screen where he’s trapped in a vicious game of minesweeper and Adler realises they are both as unprofessional as each other. Ulrich's ferrofluid form curls in thought. “I do not mind. Where would you rather go?”
Adler froze in horror. What? He actually has to make a decision? “I also don’t mind.” he says curtly, heart-beating fast as he tries to figure out the true meaning behind Ulrich’s words. “I’m not fussy. I’ll be fine with whatever you pick.”
Ulrich somehow emits the most judgemental stare from his faceless body ever to grace conscious life. “How am I meant to pick, Adler?”
Confused and on edge, Adler continually seeks the truth of the sentence. ‘How is [he] meant to pick?’ Does this mean he wants Adler to decide? What if he chooses something that he doesn’t like though?
Adler’s focus is all on Ulrich as his mind races at a billion miles per hour. “Well, just. Pick. It’s simple.” he says with false calm.
“So why don’t you pick then?” says Ulrich nonchalantly as he turns off his computer.
‘What is this casualness? Is he trying to make this decision less dire than it really is? Yes… He’s doing it so I take all the risk and I have to choose where we eat!’
Adler stiffly watches as Ulrich stands to leave, his fists clenched in his pockets and his furrowed brows betraying his alert state. To Ulrich though, his scowl was as common as his tired, depressed expression. “No…” says Adler carefully, “Since I am the one treating you, you should pick what you like.”
Ulrich makes many offended/confused symbols with his ferrofluid head. “What are you going to pay for? There is no need, Adler.” he scoffs.
Ah, there it is..! The play for humility - by implying that there is no need for Adler to take the bill, he markets his generosity in a way that implies that he will be the one treating, and so Adler is the one who should choose where they should eat. And of course, Ulrich’s suave dismissal of Adler’s preposition is exactly the kind of thing he’d say that renders Adler completely off-guard, floundering and having to execute the call of the variety of meal to be eaten.
‘Two can play at that game..!’
“What are you talking about? I am the one who ‘owes you’, so therefore, I treat you and you should choose.”
That was a logical statement, right? Even if Ulrich apparently didn’t care for ‘humanistic logic’, it was a watertight argument.
“Adler, I have no clue what kind of food is best. You pick.” Ulrich crosses his arms. “I know you’re indecisive, but I can’t do all the thinking for you.”
But it wasn’t airtight. Adler makes some sort of despairing face at that out-of-left-field response before he smoothly covers it up. Ulrich is admitting his lack of skill at choosing food? What? Granted, he wasn’t actually that egotistical, but he almost never let Adler win. To give it up so easily, in a way that makes it appear as if Ulrich is the one giving Adler a favour - it’s a genius move despite the casual insult afterwards. It’s classic Ulrich and it makes it an even more deadly response that further traps Adler in the position of having to choose where they eat!
“No, please, you pick, Ulrich.” says Adler, straight up. It’s the last resort of the truth.
Ulrich almost looks amused but he decides to sigh instead. “Okay, fine. What food do you like?”
Are you kidding? Adler is once again floored by the genius of Ulrich - he manages to perfectly deflect everything back onto Adler, again, and in a way that is completely reasonable and makes him sound genuinely nice! What the fuck?
“Oh,” says Ulrich, his head now containing a ferrofluid exclamation mark, “you like birthday cake, right?”
“N- Uhm, yes it was delicious. But I don’t think we should have cake for dinner.” says Adler, sweating as he recalled that fire hazard of a cake.
“Anyway,” he continues, “look, Ulrich. I am really not that fussy so you should pick whatever you want. Even if it’s something very strange like, uh, fried rattlesnake, I will try it with you.”
Ulrich shimmies about. “What’s wrong with birthday cake, then?”
“It’s dessert.” says Adler flatly. “And it’s not my birthday.”
“I suppose that’s true. So you want fried rattlesnake?”
“What? No- wait. I do if you do.” says Adler, hoping that Ulrich does not actually want friend rattlesnake.
“Why would I want fried rattlesnake?”
Well, wish granted, but Adler is still going to find a way to strangle liquid. “I don’t know! What do you want to eat?”
“Nothing.” says Ulrich simply.
Adler has to forcefully pin his arms to his side. “What do you mean ‘Nothing’, are you not hungry? Just choose, please!” says Adler, hands moving to his face before he can help it, despairing, lamenting, praying.
Ulrich looks incredibly unimpressed. “Adler…” he says slowly, “I am not hungry because I can’t eat food.”
“WHA- oh. Oh, yes, I forgot.” says Adler, looking incredibly moronic.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…wait, how did you do a hunger strike if you can’t eat foo-“
Ulrich waves a hand like a wizard casting a spell so Adler is Silenced and is unable to cast his debuff, ‘Logical Argumentation’. “We’ve been here for ten minutes. Pick your restaurant, Adler.”
“Fine, alright… let’s just go and decide when we get there.”
——————
Ulrich didn’t mind walking, but he and Adler had been walking around the streets of London for half an hour and he was quite sure that people only got more hungry the longer one waited, so he couldn’t comprehend why Adler was insisting on seeing seemingly every single restaurant in the entire city before choosing where to go.
“What about this place?” says Adler, beelining towards the menu and scanning it seriously for about three seconds before again turning away. “Let’s see what’s up ahead first.”
“Adler, I advise you just pick already. Aren’t you getting hungry?” says Ulrich.
“This is the first time we’ve been outside Laplace together since… a while, so we should pick a good place.”
Ulrich looks around with his 360 view of the busy streets and impolite staring onlookers. Honestly, every restaurant on the street looked the same to Ulrich - clean enough, busy enough, good enough. He can’t see a problem with any of them.
“They all look fine. Unless you want to inspect their kitchens, the hygiene of each establishment appears to be the same.”
Adler stands in the middle of the swarm of pedestrians and turns back to face Ulrich, giving him a quizzical look in response. Ulrich thinks he looks rather funny standing there, getting elbowed by Londoners just trying to get on with life and avoid idiot stationary tourists, but then an irrational fear of someone assassinating Adler comes to Ulrich’s magical ferrofluid mind and he speedily closes the six foot gap between them, causing a slightly apprehensive eyebrow raise from Adler.
“W-what is it?” he says suspiciously.
Ulrich leers towards him. “I am protecting you, Adler.”
Adler sputters - pathetic - and turns away, back towards the dangerous crowds of working stiffs muttering under their breath. “I don’t get it. But whatever you say.” he says, completely failing to appear nonchalant.
They continue their never-ending search of Adler’s ‘perfect restaurant’, Ulrich making sure to stick close to the man before him and prevent any potential danger that may befall his fragile human frame. His efforts are clearly paying off, with Ulrich managing to stop Adler from tripping over four times in the span of eight minutes and thirty-six seconds.
Unfortunately, the ungrateful bastard isn’t so pleased. “Stop walking so close to me! You’re making me trip.” says Adler as he scrambles out of Ulrich’s heroic grasp.
Ulrich stands normally again, but remains close to Adler who attempts to inch away to no avail. “No, I think you’ll find that it’s just your own failure in controlling your balance and coordination that’s facilitating your repeated falls. Look, I remain standing. I am simply helping you not fall flat on your face, preventing further shame.”
Adler squints through his hair at Ulrich. “Further?”
“Have you not noticed all the people looking at us, Adler?” Ulrich gestures to the people passing by and they all look away upon being caught staring.
Adler embarrassedly looks around as if Lucy is about to walk up to him and hit him with a request to redo a report, before his face slowly melts into confusion and vague, exasperated amusement. “I think they’re just looking at you.”
“So be it. Even if they see me, though, their peripheral vision will eventually lead to you making a fool of yourself as you trip over.”
The amused look is quick dropped. “I was walking just fine before you decided you wanted to, ‘’’protect me’’’.”
“It’s a dangerous world, Adler.” says Ulrich in his most calm voice, in an attempt to get Adler to see the stupid arrogance of his ways. Adler just looks more chagrined. “What if someone tries to attack you?”
“Why would anyone want to attack me..? If they were going to attack anyone it would be the strange arcanist who won’t give me any personal space.”
“It is the only way to ensure that you won’t get lost in the crowds.”
Adler gives Ulrich a strange look. “No, it’s not.”
“It is the only way that you will accept to ensure that you won’t get lost in the crowds.”
Adler sighs like a half-deflated balloon. “I don’t think it is, and I don’t accept this either.”
He’s fallen right into Ulrich’s trap. “Very well then, Adler.” Ulrich once again approaches and acknowledges that Adler is getting better at hiding his panic when he approaches at speed. He stops a foot or so away from Adler and holds out his hand. “Hold my hand.” says Ulrich with as much impassivity he can muster to hide the fact that he’s always wanted to do this.
Adler is much less cool about it and starts freaking the fuck out. “HOLD YOUR HAND?” he yells, attracting even more strange looks from passersby but not seeming to notice.
“Of course. What if we lose one another in the crowds?” Ulrich ignores the fact that everyone is now giving the two a wide berth, as if they can feel the impending disaster about to strike.
Adler grimaces like he was just told that the Cryptography lab password was reset again. “W-what are we, uh… fifteen year old girls?! Why would I want to hold hands with you?”
Ulrich thinks carefully about his next response. He needs to hold Adler’s hand. He can’t let this opportunity slip by. “It’s not a matter of want, Adler. It’s a matter of necessity.”
“What necessity?!”
“The danger, Adler. Of the public.”
“I am not in danger! The only danger I am in is, uh, being assaulted by your awful kiss!”
Ulrich almost collapses out of sheer, unbridled shock and betrayal. He was fucking brilliant at it; Adler just didn’t appreciate it. It wasn’t his fault that Adler had fainted immediately and then proceeded to run away every subsequent time he wanted to try again.
“That is a lie, Adler. There is no danger at all when it comes to me. You are only a danger to yourself.” he scoffs.
“That’s not true.” says Adler with sarcastic mirth, “I don’t have access to either alcohol or a balcony right now.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…ahem, anyway-“
“I must hold your hand and prevent you from drinking alcohol or falling off a balcony.”
Adler again resumes his efforts to inch away. “I was kid-“
“Wait.” It hits Ulrich all at once. “Is this why you cannot choose? Are you actually looking for a bar, not a restaurant?!”
Adler looks offended. “Huh? No! No, I’m not!”
But Ulrich can’t bear the thought. “Come with me. I will choose the place, then.” says Ulrich angrily. He can’t believe that he let his guard down and almost caused danger to Adler! This will not stand - he must hold his hand and keep him in sight at all times.
Ulrich takes Adler’s hand rather gently and Adler proceeds to flail about, flinching and tensing like the dramatic, depressed grown man he is, attempting to scream but failing horrendously due to his paralysis at the physical touch.
“L-let me go!” he bawls with no tears, just pure hysteria.
“Absolutely not.” says Ulrich as they begin their walk down the street together.
Even if Adler is being a whiny baby, Ulrich is having a great time. After a few minutes Adler manages to control his mania just enough to where he’s simply muttering displeasedly about having to hold Ulrich’s ‘ridiculously cold’ hand.
It’s all going well, until a policeman stops them. The two stop and Ulrich can feel Adler trying to pull his hand away. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I have received some reports by the public about an altercation between a man and… uh, between two individuals who appear to be you two. Could you explain what’s going on here?”
Adler rips his hand out of Ulrich’s and Ulrich swears he is going to change all of Adler’s pens to blue ink. “Nothing, sir.” says Adler, “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
“He is endangering himself.” says Ulrich.
Adler looks rather… murderous.
“Sorry?” says the police officer, concern and confusion evident on his face.
Ulrich nods and Adler subtly stands on Ulrich’s foot. It doesn’t hurt though because he doesn’t have nerves. It appears that the nerves have gotten to Adler though as he must have forgotten that fact.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just.. uh, joking.” says Adler tightly.
The policeman looks between the man with a strange machine stuck onto his shoulder and the walking glass bowl of black liquid and none of his concerns are dispelled. “…Okay, well, could you please explain the relationship between the two of you?”
“Lovers.” says Ulrich.
“Colleagues.” says Adler at the same time.
“…”
“…”
Ulrich corrects himself. “Enemies.”
“Friends..?” says Adler, again at the same time.
“Uhm,” says the policeman, “so you two know each other is what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” they both say.
“Right, okay.” nods the man as if he could ever possibly understand. “Could you tell me why you’re out here today, please?”
“Uh, just grabbing something to eat.”
Ulrich nods along, corroborating the story. “Yes, eat. We are not going to drink at all.”
“Ahaha, glad to hear it. Although, if you do want one, the Red Lion down near Cha-“
Ulrich stands in front of Adler and stares the police officer in the eye with his shimmering ferrofluid self. “Stop. We do not want to go drinking. Please refrain from mentioning any kind of drinking establishment from us.”
Ulrich vaguely hears Adler mutter ‘es tut mir leid’ from behind him.
“Uhm, no worries.” says the policeman. “W-well then, I see that there’s nothing to be concerned about. I’ll let you two go on your way. Have a good evening, sirs.”
“Thank you.” says Adler, refusing to look the man in the eye as if in shame for holding Ulrich’s hand. There was nothing to be embarrassed about though, in Ulrich’s opinion.
Speaking of, Ulrich takes back Adler’s hand and he immediately breaks out of his morose stupor and starts going ballistic again. Ulrich ignores his floundering and drags him along the street as he looks for a suitable venue at last, like, an entire hour after their initial setting off.
They start with the first one they see. Ulrich goes up to the counter with Adler and a waitress comes and greets them.
“Good evening, sirs. How can I help you?”
“Do you serve alcohol here?” says Ulrich.
“Yes, we have a selection of wines-“
“Goodbye.”
So this continues on for another twenty minutes. Ulrich gets more annoyed with each visit, each and every one offering some sort of alcoholic drink. Adler tries to stop Ulrich’s conquest multiple times, but Ulrich cannot bear to allow Adler to come across any potential danger and his pleas of ‘any restaurant, Ulrich! I am not going to drink any alcohol!’ fall on literally no ears at all.
Ten minutes later, Ulrich has finally found somewhere with no alcohol - McDonald’s.
“Come, Adler, this is a suitable place.” beckons Ulrich to Adler who is protesting by the door, giving Ulrich one of his slightly more exasperated looks.
“No.”
Ulrich pushes through the queuing people back to Adler. “I can hear your hunger from here. Stop being stubborn.”
“Our first- ” coughing, choking, “d-date, outside of work cannot be McDonald’s.” says Adler with a venomous gaze to the building’s golden arches.
“Why not? It is perfectly appropriate for you.”
“No! How?”
“If you insist on being so stubborn then, here, I’ll order for you.” says Ulrich, before again taking Adler’s hand and dragging him inside. Adler pulls back the entire walk and wait to the counter.
After the brief struggle between the two, they finally make it up to the counter where a bored looking employee smiles ruefully at this unholy scene before her.
“Good evening. What can I get for you?”
Ulrich uses the free hand not grappling Adler’s clothes to point at some food item on the disgustingly brightly coloured screens behind the counter.
“He shall take that, please.”
She turns around with a not-well-hidden grimace before turning back and putting on a smile as fake as Ulrich and Adler’s hate for one another. “Of course. Anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
“Alright, that’ll be one pound and seventy-nine pence please.”
Ulrich pauses, then reaches into some random parts of his body to pull out some coins, much to literally-everyone-present’s horror. He presents his hard-earned cash to the employee.
“I have twenty-three sharpodonties.”
“Uhm, what?” says the woman, looking at the strange coins.
“You goddamn idiot.”
“Be quiet, Adler, do you have any British currency?” says Ulrich, turning towards his victi- sorry, companion.
“Of course,” he says, sighing, “because I did in fact, plan on paying for food and not just waltzing in and stealing it!”
Ulrich acknowledges his oversight, but he sees the solution instantly. “Hand it over.”
“What.” blinks Adler, before shifting into a more defensive stance. “No. Don’t you dare.” he growls out as he side-eyes Ulrich’s iron grip on him.
“It’s for your own good, Adler.”
“That is absolutely ridiculous.”
“Give it here. It’s time to pay.”
“No!”
Ulrich can’t believe this stupid man’s defiance. According to those human books a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. That made no sense because the human circulatory system and digestive system are not directly connected, but after he realised what it was actually trying to say, Ulrich has come to the conclusion that it still makes no sense because it’s clearly not working with Adler.
“I will pay you back.”
Adler scratches his head and sighs. Again. “That’s not the issue, Ulrich..!”
“Yes, I know. The issue is your refusal.”
“Oh, of course, it’s always me- hey!”
Ulrich has had enough and tries to access Adler’s pockets. Gently. He really is trying his best, but Adler spasms out like he’s having a seizure and it ends up looking a lot more violent than it actually was.
“Give me your money, human!”
“No, you idiot glass bowl!”
“Hey, human, treat arcanists with respect!” says a random man from the crowd.
Instantly, another voice bites back. “Are you kidding? He’s being robbed by one, why should he treat him with respect?”
“This is exactly why we can never get along!”
“I’ll show you what not getting along is..!”
And then it quickly gets out of hand as a fight breaks out in the Woolich McDonald’s, fuelled by racial tensions and kickstarted by genuine well-meaning twisted into the usual.
The employee blankly calls the manager.
The manager arrives and decides for the fifth time this evening that he’s not paid enough to deal with this before he manages to break apart the riot and is left with only Adler and Ulrich again - the perpetrators and the only ones not actually being violent.
“Woah woah, stop fighting! Explain what’s going on here, gentlemen.”
They stop grappling with one another. “I’m trying to feed him.” says Ulrich.
“He’s stealing my money and force-feeding me this disgusting food.”
“…”
“…”
“…"
“Right, I’m calling the police. You, uhm, mister arcanist, stay with me. I’m sorry this man has caused you trouble.” says the manager to Adler.
Adler looks extremely insulted - even more so than Ulrich. “Excuse me? That’s a little much isn’t it?”
The manager looks between the two of them shiftily. “Isn’t he… trying to mug you, sir?”
Ulrich shakes his head seriously. “No, I will pay him back.”
“Sir, this man only had these fake coins..” says the employee behind the counter quietly.
“Fake? These are real sharpodonties. I would never forge currency! Look how the maws open before me.”
“What? Is that some sort of new Monopoly money?” says the manager.
“Of course not. It is an ancient currency whi-“
“You know what - please leave, good sirs.”
Ulrich puts his hands on his hips to assert dominance. “But we haven’t gotten our food yet.”
The manager also puts on a power stance and then flicks his hand towards the exit. “You don’t have the funds for it and you’re causing a disturbance, please leave.”
And so they get kicked out of McDonald’s, with a flabbergasted Ulrich and a starving Adler still in tow. At least the pure dumbfounded shock at the situation allowed Ulrich to hold Adler’s hand without him complaining.
Adler groans loudly after they stand outside on the now darkened streets for a few moments. “That was a disaster.”
“Yes.” says Ulrich, easily agreeing for once.
Adler looks at Ulrich with a tired yet still somewhat amused expression. “Alright, so we failed at that. Great.” He scratches his head and looks around the street.
Ulrich is silent as he thinks about their next course of action. “We haven’t failed yet, Adler.”
He gets a withering look for that one. “You refuse any restaurant we come across; what are we going to get then?”
The gumball machine once again casts his gaze towards the high street, looking for any potential venues. They were actually surrounded by them, but they all had alcohol. Chinese restaurant? Baijiu. Japanese? Sake. French? Chartreuse. Italian? Digestivos. It went on as far as the eye could see. But what also held true, was the fact that they were in England and that meant on every single street you’d be likely to find some sort of chippy-like place.
“Adler, I have spotted our next destination.”
“Oh no."
Ulrich determinedly walks to his next goal with Adler trailing behind him by the hand, entering the kinda dingy place with all the bravado of a Ferrari. Adler raises an eyebrow at the somehow industrial yet also old-timey decor of the interior. Then his eyes eventually land on the menu and he makes a rare, wakeful, fully eyes-open face. Ulrich wonders how all of his hair manages not to land on his eyeballs.
“Is that jellied eel?” he says with a not insignificant amount of disgust.
Before Ulrich can reply, the server waltzes up them and asks what they want. Ulrich doesn’t know why they bother, because the only thing on the menu is jellied eels and pie or jellied eels and two pies or jellied eels and one pie and one mash or jellied eels and two ma-
“I’d recommend one mash and one pie.” says the server.
Well, who is he to disagree? “We will take that with the eels.”
A sound that can only be described as a mournful wheeze is heard behind Ulrich. “No…”
“Going for the eels, eh? That’ll be six pounds, please.”
“I should’ve picked from the beginning.” mutters Adler as he relents and hands over the cash.
They stand by the side awkwardly as their food is served instead of sitting down. Luckily it was served quickly, so the two scientists could sit down on the old seats normally once more, now with Adler holding a plate of the flattest pie he’d ever seen, mash and delicious jellied eels.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Ulrich leans his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together, curious to see what Adler shall do next.
“…”
“…”
Adler sits there stiffly, eyes shifting between Ulrich and the meal before him. He then slowly picks up some cutlery.
“…”
“…”
Adler then proceeds to sluggishly move said cutlery towards his plate and he hovers over it like a spy in a movie being dangled above a diamond via ropes, appearing to be hesitating on where to start.
“…”
“…"
He is still frozen.
“…”
“…”
Ulrich leans forward more, appraising the food and Adler’s blank expression.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Adler, just eat already.”
Adler finally breaks out of the ice and his face is allowed to contort into the horror he actually feels as he looks back up at Ulrich. “I’m just… uh- I.. uh..”
Ulrich uses his question mark move. “Are you being my baby again?”
“PFT-“
“Do you want me to feed you, Adler?”
Adler gradually gets out of his coughing fit. “Are you crazy? I don’t need feeding.” Adler scowls at Ulrich but Ulrich knows that he appreciated the offer deep down if the embarrassed tint of red his ears is anything to go by.
“Suit yourself, human. It just appears that you are struggling very hard with this basic and essential survival skill.”
Adler points at the plate with his fork. “Sorry, but I just didn’t think that we’d be having elongated fish in goo for dinner!”
“Yes,” nods Ulrich seriously, “you thought we’d be drinking alcohol, didn’t you?”
“Oh mein Gott..”
They stew in silence and shop ambience for a bit longer before Adler finally, FINALLY, takes a bite of his meal. Specifically of the mash. Ulrich supposes that he’s saving the best bit for last. He stares at the food as he eats with intense concentration, head bowed down and his movements somehow slower than a reply to a business email yet also way too fast to be normal. It’s fascinating, and Ulrich now truly appreciates that his nickname, Enigma, is perfectly suitable for such an incomprehensible, irritating and wonderful lifeform such as Adler Hofmann.
Adler finally moves onto the pie. “What is actually in this?”
“You’ll find out, Adler. Isn’t discovery what life is all about?”
“I recall you saying that the purpose of your life was watching me make a fool of myself?”
“Yes, that’s the purpose of my life. Your life can be about discovery.”
“What? Not you?” says Adler sarcastically.
Ulrich realises his mistake. “Oh, yes, I am the purpose of your life.”
Adler huffs a laugh. “Whatever you say.”
Turns out the pie is not full of mystery meat, but beef, so it was not a problem. So everything continued smoothly once again until Adler finally reached the jellied eels.
“…”
“…”
Adler slowly pushes it towards Ulrich with a wry smile. “…uh, I’m really full now. You can hav- oh. Yeah, never mind.” he says, pulling it back towards him.
“Well, I can always try it.” says Ulrich, bringing his hands towards the cogs on his head.
Adler raises his eyebrow in curious apprehension before he realises what he’s going to do. “Ulrich, are you trying to poison me?”
“Of course not. If I did, I would have done it a long time ago.”
“That is not as reassuring as you think it is.”
Ulrich pops the lid thing of his helmet off and his ferrofluidy self tries to roll out of it but Adler slams shut the cap before he can get out.
“How in the world are you going to eat this? By diffusion? You’re not an amoeba.”
Ulrich adjusts the helmet properly. “Adler, you once again show off your marvellous display of unwillingness to try new things. Where is your scientific urge to explore?"
“I am not interested in finding out whether you can eat jellied eels,” he snaps, “nor whether consuming food touched by you would kill me and if that would mean that I just ate you and you became a part of my bloodstream. I mean, would you be able to find other particles of yourself within my body and then form a blob of ‘Ulrich’ in my veins? At what point do you stop being Ulrich, at what point do-“ Adler stops. “Anyway, I’m rambling.” He picks up the cutlery that he abandoned in favour of gesturing passionately. “I’m gonna just try it then-“
“I love you.”
Cutlery sounds.
“WAS ZUM TEUFEL?!”
Ulrich nods. Adler stares in shock.
“W-where the hell did that come from?!”
“Your speech.”
Adler stares, slack-jawed and having the worst gay panic of his life. “What? I- I don’t understand you. At all.” he says, fumbling to pick up the cutlery again as he tries to distract himself.
Ulrich shrugs. It’s a habit he picked up from humans and arcanists and even he has to admit that it was just a marvellous gesture. “I didn’t think you would, since you are so idiotic.”
Adler doesn’t say anything as he tries to glare at Ulrich with as much hatred as possible (so like, none), before he violently jabs his fork into the eels and shoves it in his mouth. All malicious energy is dissipated as he makes an expression somewhere between absolute revulsion, sheer confusion and vehement disgust as he proceeds to start spitting out bones.
“How is it?”
“…” Adler avoids Ulrich’s non-existent gaze. “…This is disgusting.” he whispers like a scarred soldier coming out of the barracks.
The guy at the counter chuckles at the scene. “Don’t worry mate, it’s a pretty common reaction.”
“Uh, sorry.” says Adler. “..about everything.”
Ulrich tries to wrangle the plate towards him. “Let me try it. I bet I can try to eat it-“
“You can’t.”
“Give it here, Adler.”
“If you can, then still don’t. Eat anything else.” he says, batting Ulrich’s hand away.
“Cake.”
“It’s not any of our birthdays.”
“That’s why I said ‘cake’ and not ‘birthday cake’, Adler.”
Adler sighs as he stands up to hand the plates and cutlery back. “Fine, let’s get some cake.”
——————
They make their way further down the street and come across a bakery with Ulrich still holding Adler’s hand, of course, much to Adler’s repulsion.
“I think the jellied eels destroyed any appetite I had left.”
They enter the place and survey the remaining products behind the glass cabinets. Since it was rather late at this point, most of it was gone and the woman behind the counter looked as if she was beginning to close up shop.
“You can always have it later. Which one are you interested in?”
Adler reluctantly looks at the selection. “Oh look, sangria cake.” he says flatly.
Ulrich makes a noise of approval at the appetising slice. “It looks nice.”
Adler raises an eyebrow at him. Ulrich can tell he’s trying not to smirk for some reason. “Yeah.” He turns to the lady. “Could I get a slice of sangria cake, please?”
She nods with a smile. “Of course, sir. Only made with the finest brandy, of course.” she says, reaching for a cake box.
“Scheiße.”
“What?” says Ulrich, ferrofluid bubbling in rising rage. “Excuse me, miss, did you say ‘brandy’?”
“Hm?” She stops what she’s doing and turns to Ulrich with a bright smile. “Yep. Want to bake one for yourself? For our sangria cake we usually use, hmm, let me get the bottle-“
“There’s no need. We will not be making any kind of,” Ulrich grinds it out, “sangria cake, anytime soon.”
She nods along, returning. “Suit yourself. So, one slice?”
“Uh, no I changed my mind actually.” says Adler quickly.
“Good.” says Ulrich while the lady looks between the two with a puzzled expression.
Ulrich looks around the devilish sangria cake at the other options with Adler who looks suitable scolded.
“How about coffee cake?” says Ulrich.
Adler follows Ulrich’s general head direction. “Sure, looks nice. Maybe you’ll be able to eat it since you can somehow drink coffee.”
Ulrich watches the woman swiftly package it. “Maybe.”
“That’s five pounds eighty-five pence, thanks.”
“Do you take sharpodonties?”
“Sharp-o what now?”
Adler steps in with a blank and completely inauthentic smile on his face. “Here.”
“Oh, thank you. Here’s your change. Thanks for coming.”
They leave and begin to walk back to their priso- place of work, now with cake and eleven pound eighty-five pence less.
“Here, Adler.” Ulrich fishes out the coins from his pockets. “Oh, I have found another one. Twenty-four sharpodonties.”
Adler doesn’t take it and continues walking. “Keep it.”
“No, I insist.”
Adler lifts his hand and their joint hand. “I’m carrying the cake and you refuse to let go, so I can’t take it.”
“A pathetic excuse.” Ulrich tries to shove them into one of Adler’s numerous pockets but Adler displays an incredible amount of flexibility as he twists away from Ulrich.
“Jeez! Save it. I’m not an arcanist anyway; I can’t use them.”
“Hm, fine then. I will remember this for next time.”
The rest of the walk back is thankfully uneventful and they are somehow not arrested or make a humongous scene out of nothing, instead managing to blend in with the rest of the crowds ambling back to wherever they are going. They eventually get back to Laplace and Adler immediately twists his hand out of Ulrich’s as they enter the building and head to Adler’s office.
“Why are you still following me?”
“You didn’t tell me to leave.”
Adler sighs. “I guess we still need to eat the cake.”
They enter the office and Ulrich, of course, beelines to Adler’s chair, puts his legs on his desk and starts swivelling. Adler follows him and places the cake box on the desk next to his legs before opening it up.
“Alright, how much of it do you want?”
“Hmm…” says Ulrich, leaning forwards. “I’ll just take what you don’t eat.”
Adler ferrets around for a knife and eventually finds a blunt butter knife abandoned on a shelf. He wipes it down and cuts the cake in half. Well, Ulrich thinks it’s actually not in half at all.
“That was a rather imprecise cut.”
Adler sighs. “You can have the bigger piece.”
“No.” Ulrich takes the smaller piece. “Do you have a spoon?”
Adler takes a nearby chair and sits down before taking the cake and staring at it like it’s some sort of object teleported into his hand from another dimension that he would never be able to comprehend. “No.”
“What are we, barbarians?”
Adler takes a piece of paper and folds it into a triangle. “There, your spoon. Wait, you can’t use it anyway!”
Ulrich looks at the improvised spoon. “Unimportant details.” he says as he unscrews the cap on his head and crawls out of his glass cage before rolling down and sitting by the cake piece for a second. He can see Adler eyeing him with the usual tired and confused-but-can’t-be-bothered-to-do-anything-about-it expression.
“There is no way this will work.” says Adler.
Ulrich undulates. “Don’t be so quick to make judgements. You never know.”
“I am willing to bet a large amount of money on that it won’t.” says Adler as he rests his chin in his hands. “Where does your energy even come from if you don’t need food?”
“Arcanum.”
“Oh, yeah…”
“Anyway, watch me consume this slice of cake.” says Ulrich as he prepares to engulf the unsuspecting piece of baked goods in the darkness of his magnetic fields.
“Right…”
Ulrich plasters himself to the cake.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…is it working?”
“Hmm, give it a bit longer.”
“…”
“…”
“…taste anything yet?”
“No…”
“…”
“…”
“Alright so you can’t eat things. Good to know.”
Ulrich draws back from the loving embrace of carbohydrates and rolls back into his suit. “I suppose you were right this time. A fluke, of course.”
“Yeah, a fluke.”
“Now, time for you to eat your piece. Oh, you can have mine as well.”
“I’m not interested in being poisoned, but thanks for your generous offer.”
Adler takes a bite out of his piece, nodding in appreciation.
“Is it nice?”
“Hmn, yeah.” says Adler contently, “It’s pretty sweet.”
Ulrich has heard this before and he knows exactly what to do. “‘Not as sweet as you.’”
“Uh- ack-“ Adler coughs intensely, “Stop saying things like that!”
“Why not? I heard that sweet is a compliment. I don’t know why, since I have no idea what that taste is, but I assure you that I meant it as a compliment.” Ulrich can’t believe he has to explain a common, human saying to Adler. “Appreciate it, you ungrateful man.”
Adler combs his hand through his hair. “F-fine, thank you, Ulrich.” he says reluctantly and like he doesn’t mean it in the slightest as he stuffs the rest of the cake into his mouth.
Ulrich watches this disgusting human behaviour with fascination. “We should do this again another time.”
Adler finishes chewing and gives him an unimpressed look. “That sounds like an awful idea.”
“Don’t worry, I shall book a suitable restaurant in advance.”
“Uh, no, I’ll do it actually.”
“Okay, but I will pay.”
Adler smiles, slightly. That’s the best he can do, okay? “Alright, but don’t forget to bring actual money next time.”
“Hm, deal.”
“…Oh, and…”
“…”
“…”
“…what?”
“Uh, I-I love you too, I guess. Not really- wait, no, yes I do, but I still don’t like you, hate you even, you’re so pompous and petty and, uhm. No, I don’t actually hate you, I, in fact, I li-li- uh-“
Ulrich puts his hand up, silencing Adler. “Yes, I hate you too.”
“Oh, yes, exactly.” nods Adler, “I’m glad we are on the same page, Ulrich.”