#selene at some point probably: ana pls stop making murder puns it's a security risk

[feynites]

I got more Banana Bachelor AU done! ^-^ Tagging @lycheemilkart, Serahlin of course belongs to @scurvgirl

When Magister Danarius turns up dead the day before Vena’s date with Ana, he honestly doesn’t think much about it. 

It’s kind of surprising, in that weird way that always seems to happen when a person you saw alive quite recently is suddenly no longer breathing. But Danarius seemed like the kind of guy who a lot of people would wish death on, and the news feed all reports his cause of death as a heart attack. The cumulative result of too much excess and decadence in life, or a little too much questionable blood magic, maybe.

 Vena spares a moment to muse that a lot of people’s wishes probably came true, and then moves on. Danarius wasn’t even a client, just a business associate of some of Sylaise’s family. There’s a little gossip about it. Mostly people speculating on who will replace him in the Magisterium or inherit his fortune, since he had no heirs to speak of.

 Vena knows the legalities and the social elements well enough to make an educated guess, which is that one of the other houses will claim Danarius’ seat - probably House Carius, they’ve been up-and-coming for a while and their matriarch has good PR - and his wealth will go to his Helvadus cousins. Not because they have the best claim, but because they have the best lawyers.

 It’s not really a big deal, though. And most of the gossip around the water coolers is actually focused on the bachelor auction, and the results of everyone’s dates. Who tried to bid on who, and who’s already gone on their dates, and who hasn’t. Tasallir makes some apologies to Serahlin and Vena but they both just counter by thanking him, and waving off his concern. He and Serahling reschedule their intended outing. Vena’s not completely sure, because she tends to play that kind of stuff close to the chest. But when the subject of her smitten jeweler comes up, Serahlin’s cheeks seem to get a little pinker.

 Vena just hopes he’s nice. Her last boyfriend was a real piece of work.

 Thenvunin goes on his date and regales everyone about it like it was the plot of some kind of romance novel. But not in the ‘oh it was so magical’ kind of a way, more in the ‘ah we’re at the stage where the prospective couple hates one another but can’t shut up about it’ way. A lot of people wonder about the mystery woman who out-bid one of the boss’ brothers for the other. That makes Vena popular because, of course, she bid on him too, and he sat at their table for a significant portion of the evening.

 But he doesn’t really have a lot of answers. And most people seem more taken with making pointedly-not-pointed speculations about Falon’Din. Mainly, whether or not they’re going to have to deal with him as a client again soon, because the man is notorious for pitching fits whenever things don’t go his way.

 And that usually means property damage. Or assault.

 Vena just hopes that whoever ends up having to deal with him remembers to wear a knife-proof vest. He still gets twinges in his left shoulder sometimes.

 His own date seems to just inch closer, taking longer than he might have guessed it would. He finds his thoughts drifting towards Ana, ‘Dalish Ana’, and her freckles and red hair. He googles her, because of course he does. But he doesn’t get a lot of results. There’s an etsy shop that sells foraged crafts and bath products and stuff, but he’s not even sure if it’s the same person. There aren’t any photos of her. No instagram or twitter that he can find, either, but then it’s not like he has comprehensive information or anything.

 He tries her friend, Selene, but there’s even less stuff to be found there.

 In the days leading up their date, Vena considers texting her or calling her. Wondering about the protocols on that. Everything’s set up and they seem to have exchanged all the info they need. But, he’s never really been one for the ‘wait to call’ rule.

 He needs an opener, though.

 Two days after their first meeting, he just goes for it.

 What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft? He texts.

 There’s a brief delay.

 A flat minor? she sends back, to his absolute delight.

 Yes!!! Excellent!

 A happy face follows.

 I have been trying to think of a better name for your in my contacts, he admits.

 Oh? she replies. Are you fishing for my last name?

 No, he assures her. I never use last names. I like nicknames.

 Some people call me Red, she tells him.

 Do you like it?

 She sends him a shrug. Hmm. Not a solid positive, then.

 Clearly you need something more fun and breezy, he decides. Ana-panda? Mana-fana? Ana-fana-bo-bana?

 He peppers his suggestions with a few thoughtful-face emojis. Ana sends him back a skeptical one, but it feels like it has good energy. Fun skeptical, somehow.

 Banana? she tosses in.

 Vena’s grin widens.

 Well if you insist!

 He means it as a joke, reflexively. But it’s… kind of cute. As they carry on exchanging quips and texts, it sticks in his head. By the time they manage to say goodbye, he’s successfully found a very cute-looking banana picture. It even has freckles. He changes Ana’s contact details in his phone from ‘Dalish Ana’ to ‘Ana-Banana’, and tosses on the image.

 Perfect.

 Vena looks up from his phone just in time to walk smack into his own office door.

 …Alright, maybe he shouldn’t text her while he’s walking. Thenvunin from Reception lets out a snort of surprised amusement. Through the glass window of his office, Tasallir gives Vena is very best, patented ‘how did this moron graduate from law school’ look. Vena clears his throat, and tries to play it off as he opens his door.

 “Are you alright, Vena?” Serahlin asks, as she passes through the hall.

 “Fine!” he assures her. “Just distracted. Who closed my door?”

 She blinks at him.

 “You did.”

 Vena fires off a finger gun at her.

 “Right,” he replies. “Yup. That was… I remember now. Great, thanks Serahlin. Are you still handling the Howe case?”

 “Oh, yes. My client is going to get full custody and one hell of a settlement from her husband. I hope Rendon Howe enjoys sleeping on park benches,” she says, and the deflection works pretty well. Vena had heard as much, and Serahlin always takes a special satisfaction in stringing up adulterers and draining them for every last penny. With another finger gun Vena backs into his office, dignity somewhat salvaged.

 “Brilliant, I’m glad to hear hit,” he says.

 His phone chimes again, and he lifts it up, grinning. But it’s just his work e-mail alert going off. With a sigh, he pockets his phone again, and gets his head back in the work game.

 …Banana, though.

 That’s so cute.

  ~

  When the date finally rolls around, Vena is entirely ready for it.

 He wears his favourite tasteful blue swim shorts, underneath a pair of his nicer cargo shorts. A light jacket, just in case the sea winds get cold, and a loose, faded t-shirt with ‘100% Boyfriend Material’ written on it in faded lettering. Tasallir sees him on his way out, and gives him an unimpressed once-over.

 “You are an idiot,” he says.

 Vena winks.

 “Don’t stay up worrying, honey,” he counters, with a pat to his roommate slash coworker slash arch enemy’s arm.

 “Take your rape whistle,” Tasallir instructs, sniffing disdainfully at that remark. He reaches up to straighten out his sleeve. Which isn’t even really wrinkled at all, but it probably is by Tasallir Standards.

 Vena snorts, and backs his way down the hall.

 “Taz, she’s like two feet tall and sweet as a button, I think I’ll be fine.”

 “That is the kind of stereotyping that ends with people being murdered on beaches,” Tasallir informs him. “She could have cohorts. Or a weapon. Make sure you keep emergency services on speed dial, it is first date protocol.”

 “This is worrying, by the way, this is exactly what I’m telling you not to do,” Vena points out, jogging backwards to the elevator.

 “Look where you are going, you idiot,” Tasallir counters.

 “Love you bunches!” Vena jokes, before blowing a kiss, and then finally turning around to hit the call button. The elevator doors open straight away, and he happily makes his way down to the lobby. Carefully balancing a bag full of beach supplies, and double-checking his phone and wallet in his pockets. He fishes his favourite pair of sunglasses out of the bag’s pocket, and slides them on as he nods to the doorman and makes his way out to the street and down towards the parking garage.

 He’d offered to pick up Ana, but she assured him she had a ride. Probably smart, Vena will concede - joking aside it really is their first date, and if she came with him then she’d have to go back with him, even if she didn’t want to.

 Of course, Vena has zero intention of making her not want to. He’s almost forgotten that this date is a result of a weird bachelor auction bidding type situation. They’ve texted one another a few times now. Mainly just corny jokes and puns, but he’s not complaining. Even so, it’s not like Ana knows a lot about him. What if he was a mass murderer or something? That would suck.

 So he gets his car alone, and turns up the radio. Listening to one of the local stations as he devotes the first thirty minutes of his commute to just getting out of the city traffic, before finally hitting less cluttered roads, and driving his way out of Arlathan.

 It always feels so good to do that.

 The beach isn’t exactly quiet, but it’s not being mobbed either. Vena finds a parking spot and then has to walk a fair bit to reach the meeting point. He runs a bit behind, luck of the commute, but when he gets to the little beach side grill he immediately spots his date waiting for him at the front.

 Ana’s wearing a red bikini top with a sunflower pin on it, and a loose green jacket that makes her eyes pop. There’s a dark lipstick on her mouth, and a leaf-shaped charm necklace held by soft cord around her neck. Her freckles are all on full display - well, as much as they could be without that nude beach situation they’d tossed around - and her hair nearly looks blonde in the bright sunlight.

 At least until she turns her head, and the red hits him when she moves. She beams when she sees him.

 “Hey, Bachelor Number Nine,” she quips, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet.

 Vena grins and does a mock stroll down an invisible runway, turning at the end when he gets to her. He feels light and playful, even if his heart is beating decidedly faster. He loves this feeling, he thinks. The cusp of something good and new, maybe even amazing. But still tentative, too. It’s a lot like the feeling he gets when he drives out of the city.

 “Hey Ana-bo-bana,” he replies. The pockets of her jacket look full, he notes. Something like a leafy twig seems to be poking out of one of the bottom ones, and she’s got a flower in her hands that she’s fiddling with. As he draws level with her, she grins and reaches up to slip it over one of his ears.

 “This grill smells good, and the beach is pretty,” she tells him. “What’s first on the itinerary?”

 Vena moves the flower a little more securely behind his ear, and offers her his arm.

 “Lunch, if you like?” he suggests.

 Ana takes his elbow.

 “Oh, good. I was hoping you’d say that,” she agrees. “Work was absolutely killer this morning, and I’m famished.”

 She grins. Vena’s not entirely sure he’s caught the joke, but after a moment, he decides it’s not the end of the world.

 He grins back.