Shooting the French

The Kitchen inside Sparks was hot and as soon as Jenifer Dent threw the back door open the flame on the stove went out, cooling the room instantly. Jenifer found her brother sitting at the table and ignored the glare that Lizzie sent her way. Jen sat down in the chair next to her brother and put the leaflet down on the table. She poured herself some ice water and sat back in the chair with the glass resting on her thigh. She was wearing the leather trousers and knee-high boots that Rob despised but had mixed her dark, brooding look up a bit with a purple t-shirt. She looked at her brother with a smile on her face and nodded towards the leaflet: Motorcycle Races in Paris. They were on in about an hour and as far as she knew that her ‘friends’ were already at the track setting up. She knew as well as he did that he needed some time to himself, to wind down and find who he was. But she wasn’t going to send him on a Buddhist journey of enlightenment. No, instead she was taking him to the races to get drunk, take bets and shoot some of the racers. Maybe they’d even get a few idiot spectators that stand up as they go off for something to eat. “So, what do you think? Are you going to grow a pair and come with me?? Please Rob! Pleaseeeeeeeee!”

Rob heard the door open and looked up to see his sister come in. She slammed a leaflet down on the table and settled herself down in the chair beside him. He picked up the leaflet and looked at it, remembering the first time he’d gone to the track in Paris with her. They’d gone with Reg as well and they’d discovered he had an awesome aim. It was just a shame that he’d never gone with them to the training college. If Rob remembered rightly he’d just graduated and was eager to play down there. He didn’t know if he could leave the Bistro. But then, why did it matter? He was manager, he could come and go whenever he wanted to and no one could say a thing about it. Well, Lizzie would be pretty vocal about it but he wouldn’t take much notice of her. The thought of doing it again and then the thought of actually suiting up and racing along the track, missing the gun shots from the field across from the track.... it brought a shudder. It sounded brilliant. Rob put the leaflet down and poured himself some water. “I think I’m going to go.” He said after a bit of thought. “It’s been a while. It could be fun.”

Jen drank some of water and Lizzie brought over a small plate of sandwiches. She grabbed one as Rob was looking at the leaflet and bit into it. Lizzie was the sandwich queen and as expected, it was good. She ate the rest of the sandwich as Rob continued to read and waited for what he had to say. When he finally spoke her face lit up and she grinned at him. She kissed his cheek and put a sandwich in her hand. She produced a bag, seemingly out of thin air and spilled guns, knives and goodness knows what else onto the table. She picked up Rob’s old handgun and passed it to him. “It’s missed you, y’know. So has the rifle. I would have brought it but it’s already down there.” She explained quickly. “This is going to be so great!” She was practically bouncing in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to shoot some poor unsuspecting Frenchmen in the head. If they were lucky they’d even get a few vampires. They lurked down by the track waiting for the corpses to come their way. Vermin, all of them.

Robert came in to Sparks and found Khaat sitting with a large mug of french roast, and a large bowl of pistachio ice cream. "So, Rob finally ordered the pistachio?" he asked her. "No," she said quietly. "I ordered the pistachio. Rob and Jen have been up each other's arses, so I ordered my own pistachio. 3 bloody months to get it and we own a restaurant. Husbands who don't own restaurants are more responsive than he has been. " He sat with her. "Can I give you a piece of advice, Khaat?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "You are becoming someone that I dont even know anymore because you are way too busy trying to be what you think it will take for Rob to want to stay with you. You both got along well before you tried to fit into moulds that you thought the other one expected of you. Take some time away. Go back to being yourself. And if he wants you, then fine. If he doesn't, well, you cdan choose to move home if you want. You know you can. And if you want a divorce at that point, well, you are chief warlock. You ought to be able to expedite that."

"You're right," Khaat said softly. He turned to walk to the kitchen. He was hoping he could find her someting to eat besides ice cream. Ice cream for breakfast. He did not approve. Not for Abbey, anyway.

He went into the kitchen and greeted Rob and Jen as if there was nothing wrong. This was not his problem. It was Khaat's to cope with, and he was leaving her to figure it out. "Any chance I could get someone to make Khaat a bite of breakfast? It really would be better for her than trying to empty your supply of pistachio ice cream and french roast."

The French were easy to pick off, Rob knew from experience. The women were scrumptious, intoxicating and just all around wonderful. There was no way to describe how mind-boggling they were. Rob knew how far it could go before he showed infidelity. But then, what were the boundaries? He suspected his brother knew, it explained why he had, had so many wives. Rob wondered if that would be the case for him. There was no telling what the future would hold and it seemed as if the old Whitlock ‘curse’ was just waiting to pounce. Jen was smart, she flirted, seduced and moved on without anything affecting her. Rob suspected there had been a fair number of abortions or at least quite a few so called orphans running around. But he didn’t know for sure of course. A year away and anything could have happened. Perhaps it was better that he didn’t know anything.

“Yeah, great.” Rob mumbled, picking up one of Jenifer’s more favoured knives. It was a throwing knife, decorated for Slytherin’s who had a particular interest in Muggle-Magical weaponry. Rob suspected Jen had stolen it from common room if anywhere else. He didn’t know much about it but he was guessing as much. “Do you think Pierre will be there?” he asked slightly hopeful. He put the knife down and took the hand gun from his sister. He would have been a liar if he said he hadn’t missed it and he did.

Rob looked up when the door of the kitchen opened and bit his lip. He wasn’t busy, he could have done it, but Lizzie seemed to jump at the idea of making the owner breakfast. He wondered why she didn’t do the same for him but it was probably only because she preferred to throw things at him instead. Rob put the handgun down and picked up his old friend; a knife made especially for him when he graduated. He ran his hand along the length of the blade and noted how quickly it cut through skin. It clearly hadn’t lost its touch. Rob put the knife down and lifted his finger to his mouth. He didn’t care about the fact that he could have healed it or had Robert to do it. It was just a cut. It would sort itself out later.

Jen watched her brother in interest. His demeanour had definitely changed and in such a short time too. She didn’t know whether she should be pleased or not. He didn’t seem to be enthusiastic about going but Pierre always attracted him back to France. The sweet-talking Frenchman was almost impossible to shake off. Jen loved him to pieces and she expected Rob did too. There were definitely some things left unsaid between the two of them but Jen knew not to press Rob or Pierre for details. Both were horribly stubborn and short with her when they were hiding things. In that instance, too, they were definitely hiding something from her. She wanted to know but doubted Rob trusted her enough to divulge how deeply his relationship and feelings for Pierre ran. Was it purely platonic? Yes, of course it was.

“I’m sure he will be.” Jen said softly. “Do you remember Melissa?” she asked, referring to the girl even shorter than her with big doe eyes and long dark hair. “Well, he married her last month. According to Christophe they’re very happy together but he often exaggerates the truth, especially when it comes to Pierre. David is still being as tough as ever and Chris cannot tear down the walls enough. They always build back up. I’m telling you, David is a stubborn bastard that can’t see further than his own bloody nose.”

David and Christophe were a pair to say the least. They trained with Rob and Jen, as well as Pierre. It was probably why they became a hunting party; they enjoyed the thrills but worked better as a team. Pierre was always the odd one out though and because of Rob wanting to make him more comfortable, Jen was left to her own devices and she hated that. Perhaps it was better that way though. She knew better than to irritate either man. Their relationship was a bond over things they both loved but mostly Pierre would talk about his books. Jen suspected Rob still had the copies Pierre had given him. He had at least three of each one. Two free ones from Pierre, one for him and one for Jen, and then the one he would buy from one of the bookshops. Jen refused to read them, saying that it was a private thing, but all of the books were dog-eared and well read. He missed Pierre’s insatiable appetite for adventure and perhaps just his company, his warmth and bubbly nature. Jen left that alone. She knew, as well as Rob did, where it had to end.

“Lizzie will.” She said to Robert.

Robert knew he had obviously interrupted some conversation between Rob and Jen. He diverted himself to Lizzie who seemed overly excited about cooking something for Khaat. Lizzie mentioned to Robert that she had been eating almost nothing but pistachio ice cream and drinking french roast coffee, despite Lizzie's maternal style of nagging. And Lizzie cast a couple of scowling, disapproving looks at Rob that Robert saw that Rob either missed or didn't care about. Robert got the feeling Rob got those looks often from the cockney cook. Lizzie told Robert it was high time Khaat stopped eating the bloody ice cream.

"Ah, well, you know, its all about those hormone changes," Robert laughed, seeing Lizzie putting together an omlet and toast for Khaat. "Thank you, Lizzie." He stuffed enough sickles into her hand to pay for the meal and then some. She looked at the fistful of sickles wide eyed. "Just consider it a tip," Robert said, kissing her cheek lightly. It made Lizzie actually blush and giggle at being so well treated by such a well dressed gentleman that always seemed to exude power, even when he was trying very hard not to.

Then he turned back to his preoccupied son in law. "I'm going to be gone to France for a few days, Rob," he said, "I am going to restock our wine cellar. Katherine will be away as well. If you need me for anything, especially for Khaat or Abbey, I presume I will know, but if I don't, I presume you can use your leglimens to reach me. Or you, Jen. Either one. " He hoped they knew he meant medically speaking. He did trust them to care for her if it was otherwise. But if something medical went wrong, he wanted to be there to take care of it. And he presumed they knew that much too well.

Rob put the knife down but kept his finger in his mouth, stopping the trickle of blood. He ran his other hand through his long-ish hair, mussing it up. He picked up the leaflet again and wondered idly if David had actually looked after his motorbike and not left it to rust. The idiot probably had but Rob hoped that Pierre had at least salvaged it from the garage. He wondered if it were as red as it was when he’d last used it. He hoped so. Pierre looked after his stuff and Rob, although he had placed it stupidly in David’s care, knew that Pierre would look after the bike.

The glares from Lizzie, he could feel them but he ignored them all the same. Rob didn’t need to deal with her. He rose from where he was sat and walked towards the fridge. He heard the sound of a few knives landing on his chair and he sighed. He opened the fridge and looked through, listening to the hum of item of convenience. He took a can of Cola from one of the shelves and shut the door of the fridge. He turned around and leaned against it. He opened the can and watched Lizzie giggle. Clearly male attention was lost on her. He drank some of the energizing drink inside and was instantly grateful for it.

The leaflet.... the races went on for roughly a week but he and Jen always went at the peak so there were more people and the races were more often which meant that they’d be going within the next few hours. He glanced at Lizzie and saw that she’d completely seen through him yet again. He moved his eyes away from her and drank from the can again. He looked at the wall opposite, avoiding his father-in-law’s gaze. “I’m sure who ever is looking after them will do well enough.” He said in a monotone.

Jen began to pack some of the weapons away. She’d packed a belt and a few extra coats as well which would be useful. She knew Rob still had the Death Eater’s wand. Charlotte had identified the wand but neither sibling spoke of the owner, they knew not to. She’d brought him another wand, just for safe keeping and most of it had been stored. She wondered if Pierre was going to bring anyone else to the shooting range. That would surely break Rob in two, to think that Pierre valued someone else over him. But then, Rob was selfish. He didn’t think about Pierre at all, about his feelings, when he got married. Jen was glad she hadn’t told the man.

She cursed under her breath when the knives fell onto the chair but pushed them into the bag all the same. She put the heavy bag down on the floor and took another sandwich from the platter. Jen slowly ate, listening to what Robert was saying. Lizzie must have either been a virgin or just completely inept. Well, both seemed likely in Jen’s opinion but she’d learned quite quickly that around the Lupins her opinion mattered not. She finished off the sandwich and went to take another when her brother spoke.

She rose to her feet and walked over to the kitchen island. She put her hands down on the cool marble and bit her lip. “That is to say... Rob and I will be going to France also. For the, uh, races.” She glared at her brother who seemed completely oblivious and Jen sighed. “I’m sure someone will be here to look out for Khaat. Teddy, Jess, Matt or perhaps the Headmaster that has taken a shine to her.” She took an orange from the fruit bowl and shakily began to peal bits of the skin off. What was wrong with Rob?

"I'm sure you're right, Jen. Khaat is also a very capable fighter herself. I'm quite sure that unless the odds get overwhelming, she'll handle herself. And Andrian and Ian are very capable healers if something should happen that St. Mungos needs to be without she and I both for a bit. As for Majere, there's not nearly as much there as it would appear, I assure you. The most they ever do is have a cup of coffee, almost always accompanied by an arguement over something or another. Their relationship consists of a a mutual agreement not to slaughter the other one.

"The French races, huh? Katherine and I used to go there every year. I used to race in them when I was about Rob's age. Gave it up when Khaat was born. Just didn't want to do it anymore. Katherine and I used to go and spend time camping in a trailer so small, my motorcycle could pull it. It was a great time. We drank a lot of french wine and champagne and ate a lot of really superb seafood. I went for a few years with my mates after Khaat was born but it just tempted me to cause too much trouble. I am far more well behaved when there are women around for some reason. I think that's why I still go every summer someplace to cause trouble with my mates. "

He looked at Jen who seemed to be wondering what kind of trouble a Lupin like Robert might actually be willing to cause. "Try me sometime and find out," he told her, throwing down the challenge gauntlet for her.