"Same old, same old. This pack had a suppression field. God, I hate suppression fields," Ajax Vincent swirled his alcohol.
Omen gracefully rested her cheeks on her palms, her eyes fully devoted to Ajax's, she said softly, "The job can be tough sometimes."
"More importantly," Ajax pointed a friendly finger to her nose, "how many times have I told you to call me Ajax?"
"As many times as I have told you that I like to call you Vince. It has a nicer ring to it than say, Ajax." She rolled her eyes, and scowled, "Augh, Ajax. It sounds like Jackass." She raised her other arm, and cupped Vince's face, "You aren't a jackass, so why would I call you something like that."
"God, you're the prettiest thing in the universe," Ajax involuntarily murmured, before realizing his words and voluntarily felt mortified about it.
"What?" Omen's eyes widened, she looked away and crouched behind the counter.
"What?" Ajax's eyes widened, too. "I-"
Before Ajax could talk, Omen stood up from behind the counter, this time with a plate in her hand.
"Here," She placed the plate on the table. "I barbequed some skewers earlier."
Separated from the skewers and artistically plated, the plate was filled with smoking hot sirloin, chicken, shrimp, onions, carrots, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, and bell peppers.
Omen stabbed some of the goodies with a fork, holding it in front of his mouth, "Say 'ah'."
"Aah—chomp!" Ajax spoke with a stuffed mouth, "Have you had some?"
"Of course, I've had some, Vince." She replied with a gentle voice.
"Well," Ajax materialized a fork with a toothy grin, "have some more!"
Omen tittered amusedly, "Stop-! Uhm, noh, no more."
After a few minutes of small talk, laughter, and jokes—which Ajax believed with certainty to be more enjoyable than a relaxing drive to the archipelago—he heard something from her that raised an eyebrow.
"Here," this time she picked up a suitcase-sized cardboard box wrapped in black and gold gift paper. With an expectant smile, she voiced, "It took me a week to get this, your present."
"Ah, shut up," Vince laughed with a slight blush. "Why the present, baby?"
Omen's smile widened, "Let's just say that today is a very special day."
"Well," Ajax chuckled at the gift box, "if the size isn't fluff, consider me head over heels for you all over again."
Both of them laughed before he opened it. Once he did, however, his smile faded.
Small black cards with golden imprints were inside the box—business cards, in the hundreds.
He picked one and read its contents with a hint of melancholy, "Ajax 'Wraith' Vincent. Pacifist, Special Investigator, Sorcerer, Master of the Dark Arts."
"I know it's a bit over the top, but," Omen leaned forward to peek at the card, "it's not wrong. Besides, look at it! At the aesthetics; the backdrop is matte black, and the letters are printed in a Light French Beige color. It took a fortune to make these, and I am proud of it!"
"This…" Ajax, not wanting to disappoint her, gave her a sheepish smile. "How many of these did you print?"
Omen's eyes sparkled, "Enough to last you years even if you gave them generously. Although you shouldn't, these business cards are enchanted and always show a means of contacting you. It will scare the laymen if they saw the letters move on thier own." She chuckled.
"L-" Ajax listened to her attentively, opening his mouth to say something, but only felt a lump in his throat. Alas, the only thing that escaped him was a stiff nod and an, "Is that so."
This was the exact reason he had been holding off on having this conversation. He wanted to talk about this later, possibly after a tour to someplace like the archipelagoes to calm his nerves.
Unable to say anything, Ajax changed the subject, "I brought you something too."
He waved his hand and the same black pouch he had carried from the werewolf bar in Sweden and handed it to her. "Werewolf femurs and skulls. Straight from the source."
"Did you bring a spine?" Omen innocently inquired.
Ajax smiled confidently, "I brought four."
"You're the best!" Her words made his smile grow before it quickly shrunk. "Now, back to the business card."
From behind the counter, she took something out, "This is a personalized metal card holder, it has your name engraved in it. And, don't you dare shove this in your dimension, always keep it in your pocket."
"Oh, look at that," Ajax strained his smile, his voice shaky, "I-its got that–the thing, um, my name on it."
"Yup," Omen nodded before taking out a small stack of documents. "And, it gets better. I have this case prepared, it's the perfect debut for the card!"
"The card and not me?" Ajax chuckled in sarcastic betrayal.
"Uh," Omen teased, looking him up and down as if she just saw him there, "you too."
They both smiled wordlessly for a moment before Ajax's gaze drifted to the business cards and he muttered under his breath, "The gift just keeps on giving, huh? Stop already."
At that, Omen frowned, her enhanced hearing easily picking his words.
She was usually quite perceptive, it was a business necessity, but she was so comfortable near Vince that it had disarmed her.
Now that she took a closer look at him, she couldn't help but notice intense guilt and hesitation, masked by a desire to please her.
Omen shook her head helplessly, "Is there something you're not telling me, Vince."
"Ugh, well," Ajax shifted in his boots, "It's kind of complicated." He didn't think he could persuade her to come to a mutual agreement if he said what he wanted to say right now!
"That's fine," She cupped one of his robust hands with her own. "Talk to me."
Ajax looked at her defeatedly. He wanted to say this later, much later. He had been planning to tell her this since last year, no, he was waiting for the perfect moment because the stakes were too high.
What if, she and Christy leave him? What if she doesn't love him anymore? What if she… grew distant after knowing what was on his mind?
But if he puts this off any longer, what guarantees that the perfect moment will ever come? Or he won't slip up one day.
Ajax looked at Omen desperately, and then a single question filled his mind, '…How long will I be able to keep up his facade and lie to her?'
He didn't need to find the answer to that, he already knew it. "Omen," Ajax said, "I want to retire."