Surprising reunions

Who: Pandect and Rey
Where: Washington Street Food Co-Op
When: Early evening

The standard schedule of businesses in this town was just one more reason for Rey to loathe the place. They all closed at dark even in the days before chaos had descended, which meant that far too frequently Rey had to get all of his errands done early and bore himself through another night. Today was no exception, either: his pantries were stocked with basic goods from his last shopping trip with Rafael, but there were certain gourmet amenities he liked to have on hand. At least there were places he could indulge them at.

Between this place and the vineyard, he was nearly done too. Rey was moving at a lazy pace along one aisle of produce, inspecting the goods with a critical eye and a wrinkle in his brow. He could feel the glare of annoyance from the clerk as Rey grabbed a small pack of portabella mushrooms, lifting them to inspect the gills and smirking faintly. No doubt they wanted to scurry home to the illusion of safety, but he was in no such hurry. He loved the gradual strangeness that seemed to blanket a bit farther over this town every day. And in any case, he wasn't the only one in the store. "Earn your pittance," he murmured in French towards the register as he dropped the mushrooms into the basket he carried.

People didn't really appreciate fresh produce, he had heard enough people complaining to their children that they didn't appreciate modern conveniences without adding his voice to the chorus. But really people didn't appreciate fresh produce. He lifted an orange to smell it, oranges weren't exactly abundant in pre-revolutionary France, and was utterly surprised when he sneezed. He stared at the orange a couple seconds before another sneeze hit hit and this time he recognized it as his early warning system that soon his throat was going to get itchy, and after that... That got him into a bit of a ruffle before his mind jumped to the next step and his mind got ruffled-er.

Demon.

He pulled out his cotton handkerchief and tried to walk at a normal pace to the register, he saw the man, neatly dressed, short cropped hair and opened his old pack for the clerk to see his two oranges, and a couple bundles of fine greens. He sneezed three times in rapid succession, swore softly in French and got out his wallet.

It was a combination of the cursing and the language it was done in that caught Rey's attention. French was a rare enough thing in the area, and the accent? It was native. He turned to look back towards the counter with a curious smirk, catching sight of Pandect as the chain of sneezes shook the younger-looking man bodily. Was he familiar? He looked it, though with a century of life under his belt Rey knew how faces could run together. Fashion and hairstyles changed, yes, but there were only so many faces out there. And something said he'd seen this one.

He was willing to believe it was just nostalgia trying to alleviate his boredom, but Rey could indulge the distraction. Heading towards Pandect with his basket, Rey began to neatly line up his purchases on the counter with a nod to both Pandect and the clerk. "Lovely selection of leeks, no?" he asked conversationally, a smile curling his lips out of habit.

Pandect was so startled that he forgot to put on his American accent. The demon was French too. "I'm more of an orange," sneeze, "man," sneeze, "myself," he dropped his money on the counter and quickly tried to sidestepped the demon without waiting for change. First this morning with the German and now he was cornered by a demon in the produce aisle. Well, not actually cornered. He scolded himself, panic only made it worse. He clutched his old back pack to his chest, a security blanket of sorts since London, he didn't have much to hold onto, well worn and familiar. "Evening," he kept his shoulders straight and kept moving, his throat was starting to itch.

"Ah, fresh fruit," Rey praised without a trace of the sarcasm he felt, "One of the few foods man cannot improve on." The sneezes were definitely amusing, and the faint haste he could see in Pandect's movement piqued his curiosity. Paying quickly, Rey bagged up his groceries and moved to follow with his eyes on Pandect's back. "Pardon!" he called after the other man in their mother tongue, "A moment, please!"

"Maybe some other time," Pandect said sharply in French before he realized it. He hoped the demon didn't have his own set of angel seeking... somethings. He switched stubbornly back to English, "I'm sure you have other things to do."

"Ah, but a wayward brother is such a rare thing," Rey called after him with a catlike smile, catching the irritation easily, "Surely it precedes any other affairs I may have. Artichokes will keep, yes?" There was no real reason to pursue this, but the fact that this man seemed bothered by his very presence was endlessly amusing. "Please, I will not keep you long. I have not returned to Paris in many a year, and this is a blessed surprise."

"Paris is not exactly my stomping ground," it was better out, the cool fresh air cleared his throat a little before the demon was right behind him again. "And I am not your brother," he said a little sharper than he had intended. " I am not interested, tend to your artichokes." Where was his truck?

Rey breezed past his own car, stifling a laugh at the sharp words that came back at him. "I can see that," he commented dryly, "A Parisian possesses some degree of etiquette. You must be rural. I misspoke before, and I apologize for any unwarranted familiarity." But he didn't give up the pursuit, still keeping that lazy pace behind Pandect. "But many in this town are wary of foreigners in recent days, perhaps both of us would benefit from even a loose connection such as a nation of birth. Reynald Delacourt, at your service."

Pandect froze mid step and wove a moment, Delacourt. He knew a Delacourt, had met a Delacourt. But this calm predatory Delacourt hardly looked as though he was capable getting that drunk. He turned slowly on his heel and gave the man a slow assessing look. It was impossible, two men in the same day who had known him. Next thing he knew he would come across one of his brothers, Pandect folded his pack even closer to his side before the man noticed it was World War II military issue and started asking questions. "Garnier," he extended one hand slowly, half afraid the demon Delacourt (what had he asked to be called? Rey) would recognize him. They were on a curb in liberated Paris and Pandect had said 'its a good night,' and Delacourt had said, 'I'll miss the War,' too drunk to notice Pandect's sneezing (Pandect had been plenty drunk himself, every one had been drunk, and the thought had made him laugh out loud, an angel and a demon sitting side by side). At least he didn't have to worry about Rey remembering him.

Garnier... He'd known several people with that surname in his time in Paris, had even worked with some during the second World War. Of course, 'worked' was a misnomer; Rey had spent his time in Paris feeding a target to the occupying Nazis and reveling in the chaos. But in every task Rey had ever taken, the faces of those around his targets faded with time. So, perhaps a relative? That would be amusing for certain; a reunion over half a century and full continents apart. Ah, how he missed that war. He'd learned so much about plague and betrayal during it. After it ended, he'd had a void inside of him until finding his brother nearly a decade later. "Even in the countryside it is common to introduce one's self, no?" Rey eventually asked, snapping from his reverie.

Pandect inclined his head, not allowing relief at not being recognized to show. "It is, and now I have. You may stop following me at any time." He finally spotted his truck and used all the length in his legs to get him there quickly, pulling open the driver's side door and setting his bag inside, hoping to get the door closed before Rey could catch up with him. His back tingled sharply, like he had touched a live wire or an electrical socket. It was almost an involuntary reaction, his wings spread out behind him with the faint tinkling of glass under his seeming, as he braced himself against the side, taking a moment to get his breath back before hopping in his old truck. It was his truck, a farmer's truck, he was a farmer. He had meant to be before he wandered around making people trip and then driving them to the hospital.

"And I shall, if that is your wish," Rey assented, stopping and watching Pandect scurry into the cab of his vehicle. The man was scared, he knew something perhaps. How much? Why did he know? They were delightful questions to consider, a promise of future distractions and time spent running the plates of the truck through his computer. "Au revoir," Rey called before the door shut, turning and letting himself truly smile. It was a less than pleasant expression on an otherwise dashingly handsome man, but it was one he always enjoyed wearing when it was genuine. "As he turned to head back to his own car, he was surprised to realize a soft melody was being whistled on his lips. Champ Elysee. Ah, my homeland, how I have missed you, he mused, And what wonderful reminders you bring to me when I need them most.

Pandect sneezed once more, and then blessedly his throat stopped itching, he breathed in the clean air of the inside of his truck. He had been ready to attack the demon. But it was better this way. Better to go back to the Venture and go into his room and wait for morning. He was safe. He had experience. It wasn't like Delacourt was going to run his plates, all he needed was someone else asking how a war veteran managed to look so young for a man in his nineties. There was nothing to worry about. If the demon showed up again he would kill him. That was if he could breathe. He had enough problems without a demon stalker. " Evening Rey, I can honestly say I hope I never see you again."