vigorli

Title: A Grand Evening Out
Author: Artemis Allen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo
Beta: The ever patient

silvan_lady; Thank you dear.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, unfortunately.
Notes: This snippet developed from a conversation (or two) with

silvan_lady and

gattodoro when we were on retreat, in a forest and I was probably being denied something unless I handed in a thousand words.
Summary: Another day in the life of ‘The Conductor & The Concert Violinist’ but a direct follow on to the Valentine Dinner fic which you can find here If Music be the Food of Love
Word Count: 1,840

Viggo and Orlando had been out enjoying a very pleasant dinner with Sean and the current Mrs Bean and as they had been dining close to the apartment Sean and Georgina had accepted the offer of a nightcap.

As soon as Viggo opened the door Georgina threw off her coat and headed for the bathroom.

Sean slid out of his own overcoat and handed it to Viggo to hang up.

“Bloody women, I really need a piss myself.”

Viggo rolled his eyes. “Use the ensuite,” he said pointing to the master bedroom.

By the time Sean emerged from the bathroom Viggo and Orlando had repaired to the sitting room and Viggo was pouring drinks.

“I may regret even asking this, but my curiosity has overcome my better judgement,” Sean began, reaching for the glass of whisky Viggo offered him.

Viggo raised his eyebrows encouraging his friend to continue.

“Why is there an inflatable bath pillow stuck to the wall in your shower?”

Orlando sniggered. Viggo didn’t miss a beat. “It’s there because Orlando is vain,” he said.

Sean considered this. “No, not getting it.” He frowned in puzzlement.

Orlando sniggered again.

“When I fuck Orlando in the shower,” Viggo said levelly, rather as if he were discussing the weather, “he refuses to cross his arms against the wall in case he damages them. Which is reasonable I suppose, given that he’s a violinist, so he rests his head against the wall instead, but he then complains that the tiles leave lines on his face; hence the bath pillow.”

“You know, Viggo,” Sean said thoughtfully, taking a large gulp of the whisky, “there are times when I really wish you wouldn’t share.”

“You asked,” Viggo said.

Sean settled himself comfortably into one of the deep leather armchairs, took another sip of his whisky and then with a sly smile said, “So, something else I’ve been meaning to ask about, I heard that you two had a cosy Valentine’s dinner at a Greggs a couple of months ago. I thought it sounded bloody ridiculous but my informant was adamant. Although she was laughing a lot so maybe I misunderstood.”

Viggo sighed. “Your informant being Cate, I assume.”

Orlando pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh. And glanced at Georgina, she was frowning slightly and pretending indifference. None of Sean’s wives had ever really liked Cate, possibly because as his highly competent and much respected number two she enjoyed more of his time and attention than they ever did. She had certainly, so far, outlasted them and she knew all of Sean’s secrets.

“Maybe.” Sean shrugged. “Is it true?”

Viggo hesitated, anticipating the ridicule that would follow. “We were in Manchester. There were fewer options than in London.”

“I know Manchester,” Sean mused. “Wrong side of the Pennines and all but still, it has some very good restaurants.”

“It was short notice.”

“Ah,” Sean nodded understandingly, “But my informant…”

“Cate,” Georgina cut in, sharply.

“... told me it was really difficult to get you in, you must have really wanted to go there.”

Viggo took a large gulp of his own whisky. “Yes, apparently we were very lucky to get a table.”

Orlando burst out laughing. “Give it up Viggo, he’s not going to let it go.”

Sean grinned at them both. “So do tell me how this unfortunate incident occurred.”

“Didn’t Cate give you the full story already?” Viggo asked hopefully.

“I want to hear your version. Cate didn’t seem quite sure who was responsible.”

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Viggo said, resignation clear in his voice, “and I think it was me.”

“Really?” Sean raised both eyebrows in surprised amusement. “How so?”

“The moral,” said Orlando from the depths of the sofa, “is never outsource your grand romantic gestures.”

“Oh dear,” Sean said sympathetically, turning his attention to the younger man, “who did he outsource it to?”

“To Liv,” Orlando said, “obviously.”

“Well obviously, since she services his every need… well except for the ones you take care of,” Sean winked at him, “but I can’t imagine Liv came up with the Greggs idea.”

“No, she didn’t,” Orlando confirmed, “and this is where the responsibility falls on Viggo. He had forgotten that Liv was on leave.”

“I was meant to be in the US,” Viggo said peevishly, “and Liv hadn’t told me.”

“That doesn’t sound like Liv,” Sean said.

Orlando smiled consolingly at his lover. “This is sort of true, because the request actually came a few weeks earlier from Liv’s diamond of a boyfriend who booked her two days leave so that he could whisk her away to Paris for a surprise Valentine’s dinner.”

“Now that is a romantic gesture.” Sean said approvingly.

“Yes,” said Georgina tartly, “isn't it.”

“But Liv didn’t remind me,” Viggo said.

“That’s because Liv didn’t know,” Orlando said patiently.

“Even when I rang her that morning.”

“That’s because, as Sean has already pointed out, she strives to make life easy for you. Anyway,” Orlando turned his attention back to Sean, “when Viggo called Liv on the Wednesday morning, she was busy packing a suitcase, and devoted assistant that she is and also, naturally, being in a romantic mood, she promised to take care of finding a restaurant for our dinner.”

“And she found you Greggs?” Sean said sceptically.

“No, she outsourced it too.”

“To who?”

“To the first responsible person she could think of, so Miranda.”

“Miranda!” Sean said, frowning, “Does Miranda do that sort of thing?”

“Of course not, but she and Liv are good friends and Liv was pretty desperate, so she rang Miranda and begged and Miranda promised she’d deal with it.”

“So Miranda suggested Greggs. Was she punishing you? Did you turn down something she really wanted you to do Viggo?”

“Miranda is not the vindictive sort,” Viggo said, “but nor does she have the time to chase restaurant bookings; she outsourced.”

“Ahhh,” Sean said, “to a minion presumably.”

“To a recently arrived American minion, unfortunately,” Orlando said. “Called Astin.”

Sean began to laugh. “Who’d never heard of Greggs.”

“Exactly.”

“But how did he manage it?” Sean frowned, “Cate did say the Greggs bookings were all snapped up within minutes.”

“What he lacks in local knowledge and common sense he apparently makes up for with internet and social media skills. We gather that he googled most sought after Valentine’s dinner venues and then via twitter or something he tracked down a couple who had a booking for the Greggs in Manchester and persuaded them to give it up,” Orlando shrugged.

“Smart. You have to admire his resourcefulness really. What did he offer them in return.”

“Ah, well, he asked them if there was anywhere else in Manchester they would like to eat as he or rather Miranda would foot the bill, she had told him that money was no object and given him her credit card. They said they’d always wanted to try the Manchester House restaurant.”

“Oh, I’ve been there,” Sean said, “it’s very good.”

Viggo groaned and swallowed more whisky.

“Yes, the couple sent Astin a thank you text saying they’d had a really lovely meal.” Orlando grinned.

“So wait,” Sean said, “there was a table free at the Manchester House that you could have had?”

“Apparently so,” Viggo said, disconsolately.

Sean began to laugh. “That is just bloody perfect. Didn't the minion, what was he called, Astin, run this past Miranda?”

“No, she’d told him to send the details straight to Liv,” Orlando said.

“And he didn’t do that?”

“Oh yes, he did,” Orlando said, “but Liv was on Eurostar being force fed champagne. They were close to entering the tunnel so she just forwarded the details straight to Viggo.”

“That is hilarious,” Sean said, grinning.

“Thank you so much,” Viggo scowled at his friend.

“Well at least you wouldn’t have paid very much at Greggs I assume.”

“Sixty pounds,” said Orlando.

“At a Greggs?” Sean’s eyes widened in amazement

“That included the hundred percent tip.”

“A hundred percent,” Sean snorted, “that was over generous even for Viggo.”

“The waiter flirted with him,” Orlando declared, with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Ah, I see. But, dinner at the Manchester House would have cost you a lot more.”

“Two hundred and ten pounds more to be precise,” Viggo said.

“How do you know that?” Sean asked.

“Because Viggo insisted on reimbursing Miranda for the meal,” Orlando informed him.

Sean guffawed and nearly spilt his drink. “So you even paid for the dinner you didn’t have.”

“Miranda tried to argue that it was all her fault but she eventually gave in; mainly because she couldn't protest for laughing,” Orlando said.

“Oh, this is such a good story,” Sean said wiping his eyes.

“Well, don’t ever mention it in front of Liv,” Viggo warned, “she was distraught when she found out what had happened.”

“I can imagine.” Sean nodded, “Liv is damn good at what she does. If Cate ever left me I’d be trying to steal her from you.”

Georgina snorted loudly. Viggo and Orlando exchanged a knowing glance but Sean ignored her.

“Well, if you’d asked her on the 16th of February you might have been lucky,” Orlando said. “She was offering Viggo her resignation.”

“I assume he didn’t accept it.”

“Of course not, and he sent an enormous basket of flowers to console her.”

“So,” Sean sprawled back in his chair and eyed Viggo mischievously, “just how much did this grand romantic valentine gesture cost you Viggo?”

Viggo eyed his friend sternly. “None of your business.”

“Oh come on, humour me, I had to hear about you shagging Orlando in the shower. How much? Roughly?”

“I don’t know.” Viggo shrugged, hoping Sean would relent. But Sean was not to be diverted.

“So, the two dinners, train fare, flowers for Liv, what else?”

“The roses, chocolates and champagne,” Orlando offered with a chuckle.

“For Liv?”

“No, for me.”

Sean snorted again. “Long stemmed red I hope.”

“Of course,” Orlando said, “then the bottle of scotch for Astin.”

“You’re shitting me!”

Orlando shrugged, laughing. “The poor guy thought he was doing the right thing.”

“I suppose.”

“And the rhubarb gin for Miranda.”

“Of course.” Sean was almost in tears.

“And a case of wine for Liv’s boyfriend because poor Liv discovered what had happened while they were on the way back from Paris and had a complete meltdown on the train.”

“Is that it?”

“I think so,” Orlando mused, “Viggo? Was there anything else?”

Viggo scowled at them both. “No,” he said firmly, “I think you covered it all?”

“So, not much short of a grand then, I’m guessing.” Sean glanced furtively over at Georgina; she was scowling murderously, no doubt contemplating the dozen red roses she had received from him on Valentine's day, facilitated by Cate of course.

“Not much.” Viggo acknowledged with a quirk of his eyebrows. Then he turned and smiled affectionately at his young lover. “But it was Valentine’s day and I wanted to spend it with Orlando, so it was absolutely worth every penny.”