happilyeverbeginning | Pass the test, t-taste the flesh (scrooge x magica)

Being a cold-blooded creature of the night did give her a few biases.

She gestured to the wine glasses at the table. "Now you can do your part. I'm dying to try what Scrooge McDuck considers a good drink."

"Fair warning: I haven't had any of it before. I had to look up on the internet what was supposed to be fine wine."

He had quite an extensive wine cellar for a man who didn't drink much, gifts given to him by potential partners or clients that he had tucked away in the cellar to be enjoyed at a later date that had never come.

He used the corkscrew to pull the cork free with a small pop before pouring out the sweet, ruby red wine into the glasses. He then set the bottle down.

That made her laugh a little. "Oh, my. Don't let that spread. The world will be shocked to death. After all, all rich people are supposed to be exactly the same."

She picked up her glass, swishing it around a little. "Eating fancy food and scoffing at anything less, drinking their own millions in these bottles..."

"Bathing in Evian water and never wearing the same outfit twice," Scrooge noted with a roll of his eyes.

Honestly, he didn't really spend money that much on himself.

"It all sounds terribly boring. I'm ever so grateful you're an outsider."

She took a sip, and smiled. "... And that you've got a good eye for drink, even if it's accidental."

"Glad you like it," he told her. He raised his glass. "To your excellent meal."

"To my excellent company." She raised her own, before beginning to eat.

Bleck. Mortal food was rancid. At her age, she had mastered how to make eating a meal look enjoyable, but it made her long for Scrooge's veins.

Scrooge definitely enjoyed it. The pasta was tasty and filling along with the salad and bread. The wine probably would've been better to have had with a dessert given its sweet taste, but she didn't seem to mind it so he didn't make a comment about it.

Though admittedly, the sweet taste was working to Magica's advantage in that Scrooge wasn't likely to pay as close attention to how much he was drinking given it wouldn't taste as strong as the whiskey in the whiskey and Cokes had.

Magica glanced at their glasses - perhaps if she got him as drunk as she did on night one, she could sneak in some "drinking" of her own.

"How do you like it?"

"It's excellent. You're a very skilled cook," he praised. He took another sip of his port, ending up emptying the glass. Without thinking, he poured himself another, holding the bottle in mute offer to top off Magica's glass.

She smirked, holding out her glass so Scrooge could fill it. Creatures like her were incapable of getting drunk, although his blood was delicious enough that it came close to such a sensation.

"I do try. Perhaps next time you can tell me what you want, and I'll attempt."

"That'd be interesting. I've got a whole cellar of wine to pair up with whatever you make," he told her, taking another bite of the pasta. "But you don't need to be quite so elaborate every time."

"Oh, I've got plenty of time on my hands." A full truth, that one. "Why not spend it working on the one I care for?"

"I just don't want you to overwork yourself on my account, lass," he told her with an awkward smile.

Another little laugh. "It's just food, Scrooge. I won't exhaust myself to death."

"All right," he finally agreed, deciding perhaps arguing the point to death wasn't the way to go.

He took another sip of his wine.

She smiled, and the meal continued with light conversation and plenty of drinking - Magica's goal was for him to finish the entire bottle.

"I don't suppose you'd have room for dessert?"

A goal she was certainly succeeding at. With some careful encouragement from Magica, Scrooge was drinking more and more, outpacing what his body could process on its own even with the food to help absorb it.

He raised the bottle to refill his glass, hand unsteady. There was a good two or three glasses left, but he was certainly drunk at this point. As soon as he'd set the bottle down, he took a long sip.

"Ah'll need a--hic!--minute. Where's yer restroom?"

"Down the hall, to the left, first door." Thankfully, that was where the library restroom was too.

"I'll clean up, don't you fret."

"Thank ye. Ah'll jess be a minute. Hiccup!"

He took another long drink from his glass before getting up from the table, leaning on it for a moment to steady himself. Then he slowly made his stumbling way to the restrooms.

Given his stumbling, she had time to hide the dishes - clean them later, bah! Vampires don't clean! - and take out dessert, which was small slices of chocolate cake.

There was also a small felt box which she kept in her hands, the "surprise" she wanted to show him.

She had plenty of time given Scrooge got lost in her maze of a house...or at least it seemed like a maze given the amount of wine he'd drunk. Getting to the restroom was the easy part because she'd given him directions. The way back would be a bit trickier since he didn't have directions from the restroom to her dining room. Had he been sober, he would've just reasoned out what to do in reverse, but the amount of forty year-old wine fermenting in his belly had made logical thinking impossible.

After taking care of business, he washed up and stared at himself in the mirror, bracing himself with both hands on either side of the sink. He then glared at the man in his reflection.

"Donnae--hic!--thiz up. Hiccup! Shhhhe's a good--hic!"

Forgetting what he'd been telling himself, he stumbled his way out into the house, making several wrong turns and somehow managing to reach the dining room from the opposite direction. He put his hand against a wall and announced himself via a loud hyup!

Magica began to wonder if she'd really need to enchant him in order to get a good bite.

"There you are." She came to his side, taking his arm. "Are you ready for the surprise?" Would he even remember it?

If she got him to finish the rest of the bottle, he might not even be able to feel her bite him.

"Hic! Ah wuz jess wonnering what ye--hiccup!--were keepin' ssssecret," he slurred out.

Or he thought it was. It was hard to tell at the moment.

He hiccuped again. "Ye need a refill uv yer glash?"

"Why thank you, darling." She held his hand and led him to the table - if only because refilling hers meant he might refill his own.

Once he was seated - she was unsure how long he could stay on his legs - she showed him the box and opened it. She'd taken the quarter he'd given her and gotten it encased, then put on a necklace. "This way, you'll be with me always.'

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