Archive of Our Own ^beta

29 February 1992, Toronto, ON, CAN < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < <

Janette emerged from the back of the Raven and headed towards the narrow area behind the bar, two half-bottles of champagne clutched in her gloved hands.  She deposited the smaller bottles behind the counter, confident Miklos would soon put them away.  Not that the bottles would stay behind the bar for long, she reminded herself.  Tonight was a time for celebration, and she had increased her stock specifically for this.

Reaching for her personal bottle, Janette poured a wine glass full of deep red blood, then made her way to an unoccupied table.  She gently pushed aside the dangling chains and placed her glass on the small table.  Not too far from her, a man and a woman were at another table.  Janette watched them as she lit her cigarette and began to smoke.  The woman looked solemn, leaned over to speak to the man, then returned to her original position.  The man, Janette observed, took a moment to ponder the woman’s words, then smiled and nodded his head vigorously.  The woman was now smiling as well and reached out to hug the man.  Janette took a long inhale, then slowly blew out the smoke.  Another happy couple.  The pair, she saw, was giddy now, and raised their arms to signal one of the busy servers.  Alma eventually came over with two empty flute glasses and a bottle of champagne.  She watched as Alma expertly opened the bottle and poured, exactly as she had taught her.  Janette put out her cigarette in the ashtray, took a long sip of her drink, then rose and walked away with her empty glass.  She was getting bored of watching this scene play out countless times before her.

Today was a date of empowerment, a rare day when rules did not matter or apply, and tradition allowed for a reversal of roles such that a woman could propose to the man.  Janette gracefully side-stepped past another couple too engrossed with each other to notice anyone else around them.  She slipped back behind the bar and poured a mix of blood and alcohol.  Leaning her arms on the smooth countertop, she drank.  Janette watched this behavior happen every four years, and many happy couples had gone off to start their lives together.  She placed her glass down upon the bar top.  She could not help thinking about her own marriage to Nicolas, and the feelings she still had for him.  A spike of irritation flashed in her as she remembered he was in the city; had been here for a couple of years, and had still not come to see her.  Janette picked up her glass and resumed drinking when she saw another pair of customers excitedly hug and kiss each other.  Another happy couple.

No one tonight had yet been rejected, though the last leap day Janette did recall one man that did not accept the proposal.  There had been no champagne for them.  The man had quickly left, and the woman had spent the remainder of the night drinking and dancing with strangers.  Janette never did find out if the man had paid for his refusal.  She took another sip of her drink.  A part of the tradition long forgotten: when a man rejected the proposal, he was obliged to purchase twelve gloves for the woman so that she may hide her ringless finger.  A smile played across Janette’s face as a few memories surfaced.  So many mortal women had wanted to marry Nicolas, or at the very least get a dozen expensive gloves, that he had taken to never coming out of his room on leap day.  LaCroix, she recalled, had not found it amusing that his son was hiding from mortals.  Janette sighed contently, remembering how she had spent her time with Nicolas.  He might have shut himself off from everyone that day, but Nicolas had always let her in.  The pop of the cork being extracted from a champagne bottle ended her reminiscing and brought her back to the nightclub.  She finished the last of her drink, then headed into the back to get more champagne bottles.

Janette assessed her remaining stock, determining that they might just have enough for the night.  Alma and Miklos had arrived, a slight reminder that she did not actually have to be the one to restock these bottles.  Janette let them take a few and debated if she wanted to return to the bar.  Now that Nicolas was on her mind she could not ignore the faint tug she could feel from him.  She wondered if he was playing detective or had he keep to his old pattern and stayed in for the night.  Only one way to really know.  Janette went to retrieve her cloak and then headed out the back of the club.  This was, after all, the day for women to initiate action.

Once outside, she closed her eyes and focused, feeling the vibration that would lead her to Nicolas.  Without making much sound, she took to the air and followed the sensation, which was taking her to Nicolas’ home.  Landing on the roof of the large brick warehouse, Janette quietly went over to the skylight and peered downward.  She noted that the furniture had been rearranged since the last time she had checked on him, and the painting Nicolas had been working on was now completed.  Janette moved around the skylight to observe more of the living space while attempting to locate him.

She did not have long to wait as Nicolas soon emerged from the kitchen and headed towards the leather couch.  Janette watched as he placed two bottles on the coffee table in front of him, then leaned back into the cushions, raising another bottle to his mouth and drinking.  Janette backed away from the window, partly so Nicolas would not see her as he tipped his head up to drink, and partly to not watch him drink the animal blood.  Just the thought of drinking such liquid made her queasy, and she attempted to ignore the unpleasant memories of when situations had forced her to subsist off such grot.  Janette knew when he had finished the first bottle, and her heart ached for Nicolas and what he was doing to himself while he drank the remaining two.

When she heard him toss the glass bottles into the trash, Janette felt for the latch that would open the window so she could enter.  As she was unlocking the fastening she heard a car approach; immediately, she stopped and withdrew from the glass.  Wrapping the black cloak closer to her body and raising the hood to cover her head, Janette quickly moved to the edge of the roof and peered over.  She saw a mortal woman exiting a car and walking over to the building’s door.  Janette raised an eyebrow in surprise when the woman tapped in a code on the keypad and the door opened.  Returning to the skylight, she peered through and saw Nicolas nervously pacing, then warmly greeting the woman when she entered the home.  Janette retreated from the windows; she did not need to see anything more.  Nicolas had chosen to stay in, and another would be keeping him company on this leap day.  Numbly, she headed back to the Raven - there she would wait for others who had been rejected on this day and share a drink with them.  Perhaps she would even give recommendations for what styles of gloves would be the most flattering.