a shipment of apfel strudel

Corin stared at his watch. He was supposed to be home in precisely two hours. Two hours of walking the streets for no apparent reason. Which was why he decided to stop by the bakery to get some bread.

He immediately stopped in front of the apple strudel, and licked his lips just at the sight of them. He loved the darn things, even if they were sugary and sweet and there was always a possibly his teeth would decay sooner than expected. He sighed before getting a tray to pick up his bread.

Ninette waltzed into the shop, pushing her sunglasses off to the top of her head, and pulling her gloves off her hands, blowing on them, now that she was out of the could. The heals to her rather weather impractiable boots clicked as she walked across the floor looking at the assorted goodies in front of her.

She was about to grab one off the self, when she caught a familiar head and a smirk grew across her face.

"Well, well, well," she said, her eyes dancing. "What do we have here? Long time no see, Rousseau Senior. Did you miss me?"

Corin couldn't help but turn around at the sound of one unmistakable voice. Merlin hoped she didn't see his mouth water like that; if she did she'd probably tell that to Julian and it won't be pretty. At least, it won't be for the elder Rousseau.

"Nice to see you, Fontaine," he remarked, his expression serious. His eyes narrowed, "May I ask, what are you doing in the bakery so near to the astrological sunset when you should be in school with those... friends of yours?"

Ninette followed his gaze a slow smirk flashing across her face, as she leaned agianst the wall.

"Delicous," she said softly, her eyes looking pointedly at the strudel so she wouldn't be mistaken, even as her leg drifted up the wall, bending and causing her skirt to slide up her leg a bit. "Aren't they?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Scared Rousseau?" she drwalled, eyes dancing as she pulled herself off the wall, and looped her arm around his shoulder, "I'm not contagious. They don't have to lock us in there."

"Yes," Corin agreed, "those are delicious." He turned around to see the young girl who he didn't remember the name of lean against the wall, simply raising an eyebrow before retracting back, scanning his eyes to see what scrumptious breads were hidden in this bakery that he somehow missed.

The eldest Rousseau son felt an arm surrounding his neck, and it wasn't exactly shackles holding him into place but already he wanted to break free. But showing any signs of a struggle was a weakness, so he tried to keep a straight face. "Not scared," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Ninette looked at the boy, her smirk deepenening. She knew scared, or at least uncomfortable when she saw it. After all she strived in making people that way. It did amuse her so.

"I don't know if I believe you," she cooed tightening her grip just slightly to see if it could make anymore reaction.

Corin coughed when he felt Ninette's grip around him tighten, and something inside his throat clogged. His cheeks were reddening, sure, but it wasn't from blushing, because this girl wasn't hot. At least, not in his eyes.

"Are you trying to asphyxiate me?" he asked, raising a calm eyebrow, "if that is so, then you have succeeded."

Ninette smirked.

"Not at all," she drawled, "I merely wanted to chat with my favourite brother of a friend... sure lets call Julian a friend."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, "You're panic attack is merely an exciting bonus."

"I doubt the word 'chat' is in the vocabulary of someone like you," Corin spat, his body trembling, "and Julian? Your friend? I thought you two were on courting terms from what I've seen. Though I shouldn't judge; I know naught of such things."

The elder blonde laughed, "Panic attack? This is not a panic attack! I was merely enquiring you."

"Well seeing as how I just said it, surprise, surprise it is," Ninette smirked at the boy, "Funny how these things work."

She bit her lip as he continued to speak her eyes lighting up with amusement. She snorted at his words - both their chose and their meaning.

"Courting terms? What are you... from the eighteen century?" she shook her head. "Please - me and Rousseau, not so much on "Courting terms"."

She rolled her eyes, "Sure you were Pretty Boy; you can keep telling yourself that - if it will make you feel better."

"Oh please - we all know that you're merely saying it for show," Corin scoffed, "for someone who seems to know too much of everyday clishmaclaver for her own good. You don't chat: you speak in code." He firmly nodded, proud of his statement.

"Oh, you aren't?" the blonde boy asked, his eyes widening with bogus shock. He wiped a bead of sweat off his face. "That's a shame - because Madeline and I have been planning your wedding gift for years. Tell me - do you prefer cheesecake or a pie in the face?"

(ooc: omg. sorry, love.)

She raised her eyebrow at the older boy, "You seem so proud of this discovery. So tell me Rousseau, can you translate the code?"

She weaved a hand through her short hair, looking the boy over. She snorted at his question.

"Creative, really, I have to give you credit, I couldn't have thought of that one... when I was three," she responded with easy, "Though I hear Pie is good for the complexion."

The elder French male frowned. "Merde, I would never spend my time decoding useless things like that!" he scoffed, "what do you take me for? A farmer's child? I was raised in a well-off family despite our... problems."

Even a deaf man could tell he was referring to Julian.

"Pie, eh? Then what sort of pie do you like - coconut cream pie, or just some normal pie?" Corin responded sarcastically, "because there's this coconut cream pie recipe I've been dying to try out ever since I was twelve."

The second half of that statement might not be as ludicrous as it seems.

Ninette shrugged her should, "Real shame, I thought all the smart ones just knew it off by heart."

She smirked before leaning around the boy to grap something off the shelf. She waved her treat at him - a cupcake - before going over to the counter to pay.

"Hmm, Roussea two the baker," she drawled slowly, "I think it has a nice ring to it."

"All the smart, hopeless, you mean," Corin added. Matthieu would love this puzzle, that desperate bastard.

The boy merely rolled his eyes when Ninette waved the cupcake at him, and he cleared his throat. Honestly, cupcakes? Cupcakes were for the weak, in the boy's opinion. They were just too fuffy, and the sugar highs they gave people only lasted for seconds.

Or at least, that's what he conjectured.

"Whatever," muttered the boy, turning his heel towards the door. "Nice seeing you, Fontaine! I hope you do become my sister-in-law someday! Our house would have such a happy atmosphere."

Ninette just smirked and waves that the boy, running her finger through the icing before licking it off.

"You wish you're house contianed me," she called after him, licking her lips, "Everyone needs a little Fontaine."

Chuckling to herself, she proceeded to unwrap her treat, making eyes at the cute young man behind the counter.