TW: Food??? I'm trying to be more careful with my trigger warnings recently, because I don't want to make people feel uncomfortable.

Logan and Roman found Patton waiting obediently by the stairs. The butler bowed and it made Logan raise a questioning eyebrow. "Surely, you don't need to bow. You haven't for most of the day."

"I will bow because I was instructed by the late Ali that, at dinner, all etiquette must be properly executed and the habit stuck," Patton replied.

"He sounds like you," Roman mumbled, shouldering Logan gently.

Patton laughed quickly at Logan's' offended face before swallowing down the smile and hopping down the first step. The corners of these stairs were rounded and smooth, but they were also made of stone. Falling down here would leave a nasty bruise, especially if one tried to resist against their fall, like most would. The stairwell was closed off very well from the rest of the house. It was dark and small, curling down to the ground like a spiral. Despite their being a good amount of room, Logan felt like he had to hold his breath as he made his way down the dark, dark stairs. It was as if someone had stolen the stairway of a dungeon and had placed it in this Edwardian manor. Like a trick, a deceiving passage that snaked it's' way through the house.

It was... eerie, in an implacable way.

The dining hall was situated near the back of the house, looking out over the large garden that encompassed the back of the manor. The sky was dark, as it was moderately late in the evening, with several stars in view. They sparkled down into the dim garden, chopping slightly on a large body of water that was probably the pool. Logan couldn't see the garden very well, but the dining room was easily observed.

The table was dark, almost black in it's' wood, and many patterns were engraved around the edges. Silver, gold-rimmed plates lined up neatly in front of fancy, dark chairs, matching the style of the table. A thick strip of dark crimson fabric ran along the middle of the long table and Logan noticed that there were too many chairs for the people in the house. And he noticed someone unfamiliar.

With brightly dyed hair and a small Wiccan star hanging around their neck, Logan assumed this was Talyn, the one person they hadn't met, even for a moment. They seemed to be the only one affected by the death of their employer. They were tired, judging by bags under their watery eyes, and they hunched over their small frame. Patton glanced at them pitifully and then began to usher the detectives up to the head of the table, where the current master sat.

Virgil was reading a book he kept stubbornly hidden under the table, but Logan saw funny, scratchy font along the pages.

"Virgil, the detectives have arrived," Patton said. In response, Virgil just waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the seats, seemingly invested in his book and Patton silently seated the guest two rows down from the Master of the house.

After making sure the guests were seated, it was Patton who sat at Virgil's' right, on Logan's' left side. Remus sat down on Logan's' right and was opposite Joan, who sat next to Talyn. A side door that Logan regretfully failed to notice behind him swung open and the room filled with the smell of food.

Janus walked in, platters stacked elegantly on top of his left arm. He served first to Virgil, giving his latest employer a plate of smoked salmon, cream cheese and small, thin, crispy toast bases. That seemed to be every meal on these small plates, as he placed a second before Patton and a third before Logan. Naturally, Logan watched him carefully as he placed down the plates and he narrowed his eyes upon seeing Remus slip a small, folded piece of paper in the back pocket of the chef's' jeans. Logan looked across to see if Roman had noticed it, but it seemed the other was thinking with his stomach rather than his head.

Logan internalized a sigh and watch Janus walk around the back of the table before quickly making his way over to the quiet Talyn, Joan and Roman. When he reached the empty seat to Virgil's' left, he sat down and place down the final plate. Everyone started eating, but there wasn't a single conversation. Odd, Logan would expect one from such a close group.

"Talyn," He said, making them jump, while not looking up from his plate. "I've heard you often work with the horses. I've walked by the stables a few times and yet I haven't seen you."

Talyn swallowed nervously. "How did you know I'm Talyn?" They said quietly.

"Because I'm me," Logan replied simply. "I was just wondering, we were introduced to everyone else, yet you remained illusive. Why?"

"Mr Croft," Virgil said coolly, slowly lifting his head up from his book. "I'm not sure how your parents raised you, but this sort of discussion is usually kept away from dinner tables."

Logan met Virgil's' eyes evenly. "Whatever meaning you are reading in from my inquiry is entirely your own, Mr Blacksky. We both don't enjoy my presence here and I, for one, want to be away from this place as soon as possible. However, I'm not allowed to go until the case is over so, for both of our benefits, stop all your attempts at repressing me, it's fruitless."

Virgil kept his face cold but his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed to show his fury at his authority denied. Logan's' expression did not change a bit. From under the table, Roman kicked the other policeman and shook his head slightly. Talyn and Joan glanced fearfully at each other in the crackling atmosphere of the room. Remus bit his lip, looking up to Janus, who returned his gaze, and Patton remained eating quietly.

"I was too nervous to approach you today," Talyn mumbled softly, diverting the uncomfortable tension. "I can get really anxious and I wasn't ready to meet you two yet."

Joan nodded encouragingly and Talyn gave them a thin smile.

Roman smiled down to the pair, keeping it small but still bright and charming. "Honestly, I don't blame you. Logan's terrifying and I'm working with him."

"Oh, Roman, you haven't seen the half of it," Logan quipped with ominous humour. Roman smirked back.

Remus was the next to speak. "This is really good, Janus."

"Thank you, Remus," Janus's' smile was barley there. "I hope you like the main course too."

"Of course, I will, you cooked it after all."

Their eyes met and they held each other's' gaze before simultaneously looking back at their plates. Logan felt Roman kick him underneath the table and he looked up. Roman looked pointedly between the driver and the cook and Logan nodded subtly. Then, the detective looked up at Virgil, only to find the Master of the house glaring right back at him.

~'^'~

The main course was over with quickly and passed with hindrance, so Janus got up to collect the empty plates and made his way back to the side door, just like he had done with the starts once everyone was finished.

As Janus left the room, there wasn't a single word spoken. Virgil was turning pages in a secretive manner, smiling slightly, as he read his book. Patton stared at the wall in front of him, his gaze slightly glossed over. Remus seemed a little antsy, fidgeting back and forth in his seat but he didn't do a thing other than that. Joan and Talyn were just being silent, looking up at everyone at the table every now and then. Roman seemed to be zoning out very quickly, staring out of large window, which now just reflected the room. Logan felt sick.

Well, he often felt sick when eating food someone else had cooked for him. After a murder he investigated three years ago, when a young woman had been poisoned by cyanide slipped into her meals. That thought alone was enough to scare the seasoned detective into a state of paranoia. Remus's' fidgeting was beginning to scare him and the silence become suffocating.

He wanted to speak out, say he was going to retire to his room, but he didn't trust his voice to work and his mouth felt glued shut. His heart was in his throat, his blood was pounding and he could feel his pulse twitching. Sweat was gathering at the back of his neck and he became lightheaded.

Stupid murders. Stupid memories. Stupid job. He didn't want to come back. He knew he'd have to eventually, but not so soon, not while he still had the nightmares.

"Mr Croft? Are you okay?" The voice was unfamiliar. Wait, no, it was familiar. It was Patton. The fact everyone was now looking at him was making his throat close up and he wondered how they knew he wasn't okay. The soft sound of fast-paced tapping managed to break into the fog in his mind and he realised he was drumming his fingers shakily on the wooden table.

Knowing he couldn't talk in this state, Logan only nodded, determined not to show weaknesses because that was what always got him in trouble. Someone stood up and it took them a while to walk around to him. Logan forced himself not to start at their touch and he heard Roman's' voice whisper into his ear, "The poisoning of Laurenne Dell?"

Of course, Roman knew. He had told Logan how much of a fan he was quite a lot. Logan clenched his fists and stood up, Roman straightening too. The older detective kept is face tight and unrelenting as he walked confidently out of the room, hearing Roman behind him.

The door shut behind them, and they stood in the cool corridor that led to the dining room.

Logan steadied his breathing, the cold air relinquishing the feelings of illness, if only by a little bit. As he calmed down, he looked over to Roman. "How did you know?"

"Well," Roman shrugged bashfully. "The poisoning of Laurenne Dell was your first case that hit internationally, since Ms Dell happened to be French. It was also the only case you had when the person was poisoned in a serving of public food. Laurenne died of cyanide poisoning and cyanide is famous for smelling like almonds. You'd always inhale through your nose before eating anything and you avoided using the gravy because it had a few almonds mixed in the recipe."

Logan nodded slowly. "I keep forgetting how intelligent you are. But, you decided to leave the room filled with suspects alone. Do you know what you could be learning if you stayed?"

"Nothing," Roman replied firmly. "They wouldn't have said a word if I was still inside."

The older detective nodded approvingly. "Fair point. Remus slipped some paper to Janus during the starters."

Roman blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Logan nodded. "There's something going on here."

"If there is, I'll find it out," Roman said confidently. "You should probably go back upstairs to our room."

"I'm twenty-nine," Frowned Logan. "What makes you think I will listen to a twenty-five-year-old telling me to go to bed?"

Roman shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the fact you nearly broke down in there?" A gentler tone took over Roman's' voice and he place a hand awkwardly on Logan's' shoulder. "Trust me, it'll be fine. You probably need to sleep, we hadn't gotten much today."

Logan sighed and nodded reluctantly. "You have your recorder on you?"

"Of course."

"Record the discussions. I want to listen through them in the morning."

Roman pouted. "Even the boring ones?"

"Especially the boring ones," Rebuked Logan. "People often say more than they want in those ones and I need to know. I guess I'll go back to the rooms. Enjoy your desserts."

Roman looked suspicious for a moment, staring accusingly into Logan's' blank face, before giving up. He returned inside the dining room and Logan walked away from the dining room and didn't go upstairs.