Marriage is Murder

Escobar didn't reply. He had a fiery temper, and there was something in the werewolf's remark that had sharply raised Escobar's temper.  Escobar saw no need to be ashamed of anyone addressing him as Vampire, and it often happened. It was part of  who he was.  It was the same thing as being someone being addressed by a job title--Auror, Healer, Minister.  It was no different.  He didn't know what the werewolf's problem was, and he really didn't care.  

Escobar, at over 600, saw the werewolf as young and rude and arrogant.  In the wizarding world in his country, few would have dared to be disrespectful to someone his elder.  It was considered offensive.  And, in his world, vampires and werewolves were mortal enemies. He had been making an exception for this werewolf for Khaat's sake, but if the twerp kept pushing it, his patience was going to wear off quickly. If it were not for the fact that Escobar still wanted to know Khaat was safe from a monster like James, he would have simply returned home to Brazil and let James eat them all, for all he cared.

Edward was up early that morning, figuring that when the children got up that there would need to be plenty of adults around to help with making sure the kids wouldn't get out of control. He was in his room, dressing for the day. He added a blue pullover sweater over his plaid shirt, with his dark blue slacks. He stopped for a moment, frowning. He was interrupted by his own seer's energies being raised. He felt a surge of anger, but it came and went quickly, much like a flash of lightning.  Odd, he thought.

He went downstairs to find Khaat and Marcus still asleep in the livng room, and Angus in the kitchen, and heard Jack ask what he was making.

"Yes, what are you making?" Edward asked, going for a cup of tea.  He was also looking around to see if there were someone that was perhaps seriously ticked about something.  "Have you seen Robert yet this morning?"

"I'm making a new orange cinnamon roll," Angus said.  "Cinnamon rolls with a light orange flavor in the dough, and with minced pieces of candied orange peel in the cinnamon filling and also in the icing for the top."

"I can smell the orange," Edward said. "Sounds lovely."

"I can't say that I've seen Robert yet, though," Angus said.  "Why? Should I have? He hasn't sent for their morning tea tray yet so I presumed they were still sleeping."

"No," Edward said slowly, "Not necessarily. Perhaps I was wrong."

He was not wanting to make something out of it.  It wasn't typical for Edward to be wrong, but perhaps he hadn't really felt something after all.  If there were something to it, he figured that one of the other seers in the house might mention something if they felt the sudden burst of anger from nowhere like he had.

Edward understood what had happened. Escobar had never seen the need to get to know any humans. The only person he had any compassion for was Khaat. He had no use for other humans, and so learning their names had been, for the most part, unimportant for the last 600 years.

For some reason he had felt threatened by Escobar's addressing him, had taken it personally, and had needed to fight back. And in the process, he had angered the South American vampire.

"He's a respected guest, Jack, not a co-worker," was Edward's only reply. He pick up his coat and looked at Angus. "I'll deal with this. Do keep the holiday on schedule, please."

"I'll do my best," Angus said. He began to work on the rest of breakfast, deciding to let his grandfather deal with the vampire.

"They're for everyone," Angus said. "Though I'm guessing the kids will like the berry ones that I have in the oven perhaps a bit better."

When Jess asked about Jack, he didn't really want to answer. He paused but then said, "He inadvertently angered Escobar. I don't think that Jack understands South Americans or their culture. They don't see a title as demeaning and every bit as significant as their name. There's no reason a 600 year old vampire would take the time to learn the name of every human he ran across. I can't imagine how that would overload my brain if I were Escobar. Jack presumes a lot, I think.

"My grandfather went out to talk to Escobar. The fact is that we need him to help guard against James right now, so I'm hoping that he can smooth things over. I'm hoping Jack soon learns that its not healthy to insult an immortal."

Marcus had awakened, not being able to sleep with voices talking in the same room he was trying to sleep in.  He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he woke up beside her.  Rather than being rattled by it, he merely smiled, knowing that their intentions had been honorable, and not feeling he needed to measure up to anyone's expectations but hers.

She was still laying on his shoulder.  Well, that was gonna hurt, whenever she woke. He heard the conversation going on and sighed. He wanted to bellow at them that they were too nosy, but he decided against it, not willing to scare Khaat out of her wits.  

He cast a spell to slide their tea mugs from the night before across the floor and out to the kitchen for someone to put some morning coffee into.  

Edward saw the mugs slide across the floor in the kitchen and he laughed.  "I think that's a cue for coffee for two," he said. "You know, if they're lucky, we won't make them use dirty mugs and might give them each a clean one."

"Well, it is Christmas, after all," Angus laughed. "I bet there are two clean mugs left in the cabinet.  Can someone get Khaat and Marcus coffee and send up...."

He was interrupted by the sound of shouting, excited children and the sound of little feet, thundering down the stairs.

"And here they come," Edward said.  "Stations, everyone. Let's not let them go wild opening gifts until their grandparents and Brian get here."

Brian came downstairs, feeling a bit draggy. He hadn't slept the best, and he wasn't sure why. Robert and Kate were just a few steps behind.

"You need a cup of coffee," Kate said to him quietly.

"Yup," Brian yawned.

"Any reason you look like you didn't shut your eyes?" she asked.

"I kept waking up. I don't know why," Brian replied.

"Its normal," Kate laughed. "This is the first Christmas all of your kids are old enough to understand what this is all about. And you're working very hard to be a perfect parent. But let me give you a clue. There are no perfect parents. Not a one. Let them tear the hell out of things today, and we'll repair the damage tomorrow. We are wizards, after all."

"I am doing nothing until someone puts a cup of French roast in my hands," he said. "Belby, can you tell me--is that what it looks like?"

"I don't know what you think it looks like, Sir," Marcus replied.

"I'm not sure," Brian frowned.

"Then, no, Sir," He said. "I can't answer that question."

Brian scowled, not amused by Marcus. "Can I hurt him now?"

"Its not worth it. He's very expensive, especially he's killed in the line of duty," Kate teased.

"Daddy!" Abbey ran to him, "I want toys now!" The other kid leaped up and ran at Brian, chanting "Toys! Toys..."

"There's better be parents here," Brian yawned again.