A/N: Written for WP_Holidays' July prompt. I chose 'Nectarine and Garlic Month.'
This is set in my 'Tales of the Georgia Vampires' series. I have, as yet, only posted the first tale, The Sky's Edge, at the time of posting the following short story, although there are many more in the series; all one really needs to know, however, is that Karl and Chris are two vampires, living on the outskirts of Atlanta, and they run a bakery business from home. Their house is called Hensen House, and its been in Karl's family for years. Chris is from LA, while Karl's a typical Southern gentleman, a native of Georgia. They're married, so obviously are a gay couple; Chris is roughly three hundred years old, whilst Karl is just over two hundred years old. I love writing about my gay vampires! XD
Word Count: 1031 words
A/N 2 - This was the winning entry to the July Wacky Holiday challenge! *shimmies*
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The night was filled with stars, that spanned the skies outside, like a shimmering scattering of diamonds against the soft blackness. Karl stood outside on the back porch of Hensen House, cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched a lonely bat winging its way across the back lawn. he smiled at its progress, soothed by its very presence; he'd always loved the friendly little creatures and even thought they were cute. From inside the kitchen, he heard his husband cursing, deep Californian tones splitting the air asunder, as the other vampire stomped noisily into the kitchen.
"What is it, darlin'?" Karl called though the open door, surprised at Chris' mood.
Chris was usually happy, filled with brimming laughter and surprising giggles, fang-filled grins pushing deep wrinkles from the corners of his eyes whenever he laughed. Karl was more the morose one of the partnership, the one given over to still silences and dark turns of mood, yet forever solely brightened by the attentions of Chris and Chris alone.
"Damned garlic, is what's wrong," Chris called back, but there was an air of defeat in his tone, not anger.
"Why?" Karl asked, in surprise, as he abandoned the last of his cigarette upon the concrete and ground it out beneath his boot. "What's garlic done to you, apart from the obvious reason?"
He snorted softly; at least one human myth was right. Vampires really didn't like garlic; in fact, it was toxic to them. He plucked the mess he'd made of the cigarette from the ground and carried it inside, throwing it away, before washing his hands, whilst his husband replied.
"Damned order's come in for a pepperoni pizza pie, with extra cheese and garlic, and home made garlic bread," Chris said, as he dashed a fresh computer print-out upon the kitchen table. "We're vampires, Karly-bear. How the hell are we supposed to fill an order with garlic in it?"
Karl huffed and plucked the print-out from the table to read it for himself, yet it was as Chris had said; every item on the order was filled with garlic. He tutted.
"In all the years we've been doing this, we've never once come up against an order like this; you have to admit that much. I'd say we've been damned lucky," Karl pointed out. "It is Nectarine and Garlic month, though, Chris. Probably someone's celebrating."
Chris sighed, thin shoulders sagging beneath Karl's logic; the larger vampire was right. They'd never once had to deal with anything garlic related since they'd started their baking-from-home business over a hundred years previously.
"Celebrating garlic, though? Seriously? What the hell for?" Chris said, even as a grin began to push its way through his anger. "Why couldn't they have decided to ask us to make something with nectarines, that's what I want to know."
Karl suddenly chuckled, before he shrugged, with genuine confusion.
"Beats me, kid; damned misguided humans with all their crazy ideas," he said. "I think I might have an idea that'll help."
"What? Refuse to fill the order?" Chris asked, hopefully.
"And lose potential future customers? Hardly advisable, darlin'," Karl pointed out. "No. I actually had something else in mind."
Chris nodded, and listened, and by the end of Karl's explanation, he began to laugh.
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Later in the night, Karl and Chris clunked their way into the kitchen, replete with scuba diving gear hanging upon their bodies. They each had an oxygen tank strapped to their backs, whilst huge diving goggles covered the majority of their faces. Their hands were covered with heavy gloves, whilst every scrap of previously exposed skin had similarly been covered with a multitude of clothing. The two vampires exchanged nods, and raised thumbs, before they went to work.
The pastry had already been rolled, and placed in the appropriate dishes, whilst the pepperoni pizza filling had mostly been assembled in large bowls upon the kitchen table. All that was left for the vampires to do was to crush the garlic that they'd bought at the SevenEleven store in Atlanta proper. Karl was the first to move towards the small, yet lethal-to-vampires, pile of cloves, large knife outstretched and ready to crush. He steeled himself, dragged an unnecessary breath from his oxygen tank, before he crushed the garlic beneath the flat wide blade of his knife. He dragged on another breath, saved from the fumes and the stench of the garlic by another mouthful of oxygen, and stepped back. He watched as Chris extended a spatula tentatively, and scooped the flattened mass of garlic up and into the bowl of meaty, tomatoey pie filling.
Once again, Karl stepped forward and crushed another mass of cloves, which Chris then scooped up to flick into a pot of butter. They exchanged nods again, confirming that they had not been harmed by the small ingredient; they both then set to work in stirring and mixing, Karl cursing the existence of garlic with every stir of his spoon. The extractor fan hummed and whirred noisily, as they rushed through the remainder of their task, finally spreading the garlic butter in thick slices of partially cooked bread, and dropping great globules of the pizza filling inside the pie, before both items were bundled hastily into the oven. Even whilst the pie and the bread were cooking, the vampires remained well-covered and dubious, relaxing only when the items were cooked and safely stowed inside cardboard boxes, hidden in the fridge.
The oxygen tanks and masks were only removed when they were certain that the fumes had been dispersed by the extractor fan, almost an hour later. Even then, they didn't truly relax until the following evening, when their garlic-loving customer dropped by to finally pick up his order. They both were glad that he deigned to mention the fact that they were, once again, wearing thick and heavy oven gloves as they handed him the boxes filled with food.
"He probably just thought we'd been baking again, and hadn't bothered taking them off, babe," Chris pointed out, when Karl laughingly pointed that fact out.
The only thing that Karl could do was nod, and grin, glad that their garlic-filled escapade was finally over.
