#I just very sincerely feel like teia would absolutely be like >:3 about rookanis and vi would be DISGUSTED

[silverhalla]

Seleny Merlot, 8:92 Blessed

Teia had looked far too pleased when she asked him to dinner. That should have been the first clue.

Viago didn’t trust restaurants. In all honesty, he detested them. He could only test for so many poisons at once, and had only developed his immunity to a few dozen. A restaurant was danger. It was his life, in the hands of an unknown chef, in the hands of many unknown persons with many untold reasons to perhaps want him dead. As a rule, he avoided them, but Teia was... insistent. She owned the little bistro, though, and had personally vetted anyone with access to his food for the evening. It was a touching gesture, truly, to make him feel more comfortable in a place he felt deeply, uniquely exposed.

It should have been his second clue.

(also on [ao3]!!)

The establishment was irritatingly nice. Candles flickered on every table, although theirs was the only one taken. If he’d been on edge before, his concern was certainly peaking now.

"You're planning something," he groused after the waiter walked away, pulling out Teia's chair for her. She sat delicately, looking up at him through her lashes as he sat down across the table.

"I am not," she insisted, sounding far too smug.

Viago sighed. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Oh, hush. Drink some wine." She reached for the menu, smiling at him in a way that reminded him far too much of a satisfied cat. "Try to enjoy yourself for once."

"I'm enjoying myself," he huffed, not enjoying himself at all. "Hand me the wine list."

“Of course,” she said, taking a quick glance at it before passing it over. "Seleny Merlot, 8:92 Blessed. Isn’t that Rook’s favorite?”

Viago squinted at her, unamused. “Why do you know that?”

“Oh, it just came to mind.” She waved a hand dismissively, returning to her study of the menu. “It came up recently in conversation.”

That was news. “You saw Rook?”

“No,” Teia purred, batting her dark, pretty eyes at him. “I saw Lucanis.”

Viago’s voice went deadly serious. “Andarateia.”

“He was thinking of buying a bottle or two,” she hinted, “or so I heard.” She leaned forward, barely hiding a smirk, and he could feel a vein at his temple begin to throb.

"Why is a Dellamorte..." - he hissed the name through his teeth - "...buying expensive wine for my protege?"

Teia fluttered a hand, looking nonchalant. “Oh, I’m sure there was a reason. Perhaps her nameday?”

“Half a year ago,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You planned her trip to the coast.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.” Teia bridged her fingers and rested her chin upon them, blinking up at the man innocently. “Well, friends buy friends gifts. Like the dagger she got for him, or so the vendor mentioned.”

It was a trap, he knew, and he walked into it anyways. “When?”

“A few months, give or take.”

That was a horrifying concept – how long he’d gone without spotting it. "Months!?"

“Oh, don’t be so glum,” Teia teased, “I’m sure it's nothing. She would’ve said something. To one of us, at least.”

There was a beat, where Teia smiled serenely and his fury simmered.

"Did she say something to you?" he asked tersely, already regretting the question.

"Nothing comes to mind." She pretended to think about it carefully, her brow furrowed. "I suppose she hasn't had much time lately. The last time I saw her was..."

"When you were planning Caterina's funeral," Viago finished, wheels turning in his head. "...and he brought her with him."

"For moral support, wasn't it? He needed her close by, just in case." She paused, tilting her chin thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, there was a comment..."

"Teia...," he groaned, his eyes pleading.

She waved a hand dismissively. "I had complimented her. And insulted you in the process, of course."

"Of course," he said, sarcastic as ever.

"And Lucanis got a little..." Teia paused, considering her words carefully. "...defensive."

Vi's eyes narrowed. "How so?"

"He told me not to flirt with her." That, at least, seemed like a decent idea.

"For once, something he and I agree on," he said, casting her a scathing look.

She ignored him, continuing. "And he looked absolutely pitiful about it," Teia added, "...and he called her his colleague."

There was another shoe that had to drop, surely, but he had to know. “Is that it?”

"Oh, but he almost didn't. 'Teia, don't flirt with my... colleague'!" she mimicked, affecting his slightly posher accent, "Like that."

"Like he wanted to call her something else." Viago frowned, brooding. "Did she seem surprised?"

Teia's grin only grew. "She blushed. To the tips of her ears."

Viago cursed, leaning back in his chair. It was a bigger problem than he'd thought. If Lucanis was smitten, he'd kill him. If Rook was smitten, he could give her a strong talking-to and make thinly-veiled threats. Of course the fool had to fall for a Dellamorte, of all people. It was irritating how easily she shaped up plans to ruin her own life. If it were a one-sided crush, yes, he could deal with that. Find a way to dissuade her, or to threaten him. But if that interest was mutual... Mierda.

“Maybe we’re reading too much into it,” he said hopelessly, desperate for another explanation. "Plenty of Crows send out gifts for well-struck contracts. Maybe a gift for a job well done?"

“Perhaps,” Teia conceded, going back to perusing the drink menu. Her eyes kept flickering back up to him, though, a mischievous look on her face, which he ignored for as long as he could manage.

Finally, after a minute of terse silence and furtive looks, he sighed. “What?”

“Nothing! I’m just thinking about that wine,” Teia hinted, “It must be good.”

He considered deeply whether he’d done something stupid recently. Stupid enough, at least, that she’d poison him for it. It wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t built up a tolerance for, but it would certainly make for an unpleasant evening.

The waiter, seeming to sense his acquiescence, materialized at the table. “Signora?”

“A glass of Antivan White,” Teia said sweetly, flashing the boy a dazzling smile that had him stammering as he turned to take the other assassin's order.

“And… and for you?”

“I’ll try the 8:92,” Viago sighed, annoyed that he had to take the bait, “…a glass, but only if you have a fresh bottle. We’ll uncork it here.” The odds of getting poisoned at one of the Cantori’s restaurants were low, but never zero. He untucked the tester kit from his sleeve regardless.

“Of course, signore. If you enjoy the vintage - well, it should be much easier to come by in these next few months.”

“Is that so?” Teia chimed, flashing the boy one of her dazzling smiles, one she'd used on Viago on plenty of occasions. It politely demanded conversation.

“Yes. The winery is under new ownership, you see. And under strict orders for restaurants to keep a reserve.” He returned the Seventh Talon’s smile, every bit as starstruck and moony-eyed as would’ve been expected, faced with Teia’s interest. The comment did not go unnoticed.

Viago recovered as best as he could, already on edge. “What do you mean?”

The boy launched into a long demonstration that he didn’t comment on simply because he was fuming, and feeling utterly foolish, and because language seemed to escape him. The Dellamortes hadn’t just bought the wine, the sommelier had explained cheerfully. They’d bought the whole vineyard.

Teia smirked, and Viago nursed a headache that began forming almost immediately. Somewhere, he was sure, he had a poison that could end this misery.

“On second thought,” he grumbled, “…I will take the whole bottle.”