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James meets his mate
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Another vague shrug.

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"That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all!"

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"It doesn't," murmurs Yvette, a little shyly.

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Mr. Lowell smiles a little faint smile. "Okay, then that."

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"But we'll only find out if what I cooked is any good by eating it, so, shall we?"

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Yvette snorts, then tries the dinner. Can her vampire boyfriend actually cook?

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(Her father politely does the same, but is much less likely to produce dietary opinions.)

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He might actually qualify as a five star chef, to be honest. This is probably the best meal either of them has ever had in their lives.

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Yvette considers this.

"You're going to be smug about this for weeks, aren't you," she says, around her second forkful.

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"Nonsense, dearest. If I cook you dinner more often it will last much longer than that."

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His mate huffs a little surprised half-laugh, too delighted to actually come up with any kind of verbal response. She attempts to cover this lack of witty reply with a third bite of food.

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"Yep, definitely okay with the doing this again plan," agrees her father sagely, causing Yvette to go just a little bit pink.

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James grins and dutifully eats the thing that passes as food for humans.

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There is a lull in conversation as everyone eats, and then Mr. Lowell awkwardly attempts to make conversation.

"So.... you're from America?" he attempts, gamely.

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He nods. "Yeah. I've been living here for a long time, now, though, and I have not really settled before here so you might as well say I'm not from any particular place."

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"My son travels," he says, for lack of a better idea.

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Yvette smiles a little into her food, then disguises this with another bite.

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He looks at Yvette and raises his eyebrows. What has she shared...?

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She notices the look and assists!

"There was a bit of a hiccup with some of his letters. James helped sort it out, actually, dad. That was, um. How we met."

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"Oh!" Her father blinks, and then smiles warmly. "Thank you! We were very worried for a while there. Glad someone knew how to sort it all out. I've always hated bureaucracy, especially multinational bureaucracy, all of the conflicting rules and requirements from different places. This place wants this paper and stamp, that this other place doesn't even acknowledge, but you can get a stand-in if you just send a letter to this location to ask for this paper from this person who's only there on Tuesdays. Infuriating. Never my specialty, I don't have the patience or the people skills. Now, my wife..." He trails off, and the smile becomes melancholy and forced. "... Much better at handling it all." He looks away. "Anyway."

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That he knows how to deal with. Namely: pretend he didn't notice and move on!

"I have acquaintances all over everywhere, it was easy enough to find the right person and ask the right questions."

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"Doesn't sound easy," he shrugs, but he seems happy enough to leave the line of conversation there. Or, well. Not any unhappier about it than he is about taking any actions in general.

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"He and Blair would probably get along well. Being all..." She wiggles the fingers of her free hand vaguely. "... Adventurous and social."

She doesn't say that, you know, they've met, and that Blair let him at his sister while knowing that James was mated to her, which is a fraternal seal of approval if there ever was one, but that would be rather a bit much for this conversation. What with the secrecy and all.

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Yep. Pretty much.

"'Adventurous and social', is that how you'll describe me?"

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"Are there other adjectives you'd rather be described with?"

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