Shopaholic

by Guest Sat Mar 21, 2009 6:34 pm

(Italia)

Antoinette woke with a frightened start, precipitated by knocking on her hotel door. She had not counted on how jumpy she’d be sleeping away from her haven. It sucked really. She had dreamed horrible things all day of being exposed to the sun as she tossed and turned in a barely unconscious state.

The knocking came at twilight, slightly earlier than she normally rose, so she was again jolted from her slumber with the fear of being exposed. Someone was going to die now. She crept to the door, fangs bared, ready to do damaged, and was surprised to see Baron Quinton through the security-hole. Opening the door to her darkened nest, her face in total shock. He was dressed and ready to go somewhere. The shock was returned when he looked her up and down, still in her Invader Zim jams. Baron Quinton raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“Antoinette, how can we get any shopping done if you’re going to sleep the night away?”

What’s this ‘we’ Khemosabi? She thought as she continued to blink at him, standing in the harshly lit hall. “Umm…” No, brain still not working. Try again. “Baron Quinton, you’re not going shopping with me.”

He grinned at her, not without a little malice. “Childe, I go everywhere with you. Since you apparently don’t know the rules at home yet, what would lead me to believe you know them here?” He smiled pleasantly. “Now, hurry and get ready, I don’t want to be kept waiting.”

She shut the door, perhaps a bit too hard. There goes all the fun. Shopping was for pure indulgence, not for having an impatient Baron standing over your shoulder asking you if you were finished every five minutes.

The driver took them to Via Del Babuino, and they walked along ancient buildings mingled with the slick modern draw of high fashion and couture, with a view of Piazza del Popolo to their North, where the Romans had held their public executions for centuries.

Of course, Antoinette found the perfect pair of Pradas to replace hers right away, but just couldn’t stop there. Missoni, Dolce & Gabbana, Krizia, Versace, Ferragamo: they all called to her. And then she began on Baron Quinton, who was, in his defense, a good sport about the entire evening. She found him all kinds of cute new things at Armani, Versace, Fratelli Rossetti and Diego della Valle; shoes, suits, some casual things, and she even found him a killer Bulgari watch. Then he mentioned riding boots.

“Boots? Like tall boots?” She was somewhat puzzled.

“Yes, as in to ride in, Antoinette.”

Her wheels started spinning. This was an odd request. “OK, well, generally they do those for women's fashion, but not so often for men. We’d probably have to go to a proper tack shop.”

“Well, I’d want proper riding boots, so that would make sense.”

“Do you want to ride. With me?”

“You said you wanted to start a hunt club for the Invictus. I can’t be outdone by my childe.”

“That means, we need a… HORSE!” Antoinette made a little gasp as people around them in the high-end store turned and stared. “Your Excellency!” She was squealing now, but everyone had turned back away by then. It was not uncommon for nobility to shop in Italy. “Can we head up to Germany then and buy a horse to ship back? I’ll give you my stallion; a Baron must ride a stallion, and I’ll buy a mare, and we can breed them too! That would be so much fun! Or maybe a couple, so that we could have other people come ride with us?”

“Childe, we can go animal shopping further up North if you wish, but I won’t be riding any common animal that you find at an auction. Even in Germany. If we bring something home, it will need to be extremely rare and special.”

And a total pain in the ass, she could only guess, but refrained from saying so. Things were just going too well. And horse shopping was too much fun. “That’s fine, I’ll find you a very special horse, Your Excellency. And boots!”

He gave her a look of indifference. “I’m not making the trip back over the pond again anytime soon, so make sure you get everything you need now.”

Yes! Antoinette jumped and squealed some more. Could this trip get any better?