Work Text:
gourmand \goor-MAHND; GOOR-mahnd; GOOR-mund\, noun:
1. One who eats to excess.
2. A lover of good food.
Gourmand is from French gourmand, "greedy."
Usage note: A gourmet is one who has discriminating taste in food and wine. A gourmand is one who enjoys food of fine quality, and also one who enjoys food in great quantities. Glutton signifies one who simply eats to excess, without reference to the quality of the fare consumed.
***
Quentin Travers' mother believed in plain food. Quentin's father had once, in a rare moment of candor, told him she had not always been that way, but the departure of the cook who'd been with them since their marriage for defense work during the war had hit her hard. She'd proven a disaster in the kitchen, unable to cook the type of meals she'd been used to eating, a situation only made more desperate by the privations of rationing and the necessity of feeding Quentin and his brother. To make simple porridge without it being burned and lumpy had apparently been a major accomplishment, with boiled beef following close behind. From there, simplicity in food became almost a religion to her and there had been a period as a child when Quentin had believe the Holy Trinity to be pudding, porridge, and boiled potato.
At war's end, Cook returned, only to leave after one too many disagreements with Mrs. Travers over the family menus and a "plain cook" hired who could accommodate the simplicity demanded. Mourning the loss of Cook's eccles cakes, Quentin did not equate the new cook's arrival with his father's increase in visits to his club until some years later when he learned just how excellent their chef was.
When he arrived at Oxford, Quentin found himself seduced by the lure of good food and fine wine, so much so that he gained two stone his first year, embracing the life of a gourmand without a backward glance. His mother had never forgiven him his heresy and after he was married only accepted invitations to tea, not dinner. Clarice had quickly learned the simplest way to keep the peace with her mother-in-law was simple sandwiches and to not make the effort to remove the crusts, something which frustrated her no end. As she would often relieve those frustrations by putting more energy than usual into the evening meal, Quentin found it a fine compromise.
He could honestly say one of the chief reasons he'd fallen for Clarice had been their shared love of the finer things in life, that she could appreciate a chef's artistry as much as he, an appreciation she had inherited from her father. That her father was a member of the Council's inner circle was merely an unexpected bonus, no matter what others whose careers had not prospered as his might say.
As the ladies rose to leave the gentlemen to their port and discussion of Council business, Quentin felt well satisfied. It'd been awkward in the early days to sit with these men and hear discussion of matters of the highest-level while he himself was merely a rather junior watcher and there had been times when it had been suggested that perhaps it would be best if he "entertained the women" while the others talked. At least Clarice insisted on serving the ladies a port that was as good, if not better, than what her father brought to the table. Those days were long past, though, and Quentin was an accepted member of this circle; it was quite likely there would come a time within the next few years that a vacancy would occur within the Seven and the seat would fall to him.
Of course, that would mean Rupert Giles would quite possibly become Council Chairman, which would mean the top slot in Field Services was open and Quentin most definitely did not want to consider that at the moment. Besides, the Seven all seemed in fine health at the moment and it didn't pay to anticipate too much. Also Oglethorpe was in the process of asking him a question and he didn't wish to appear inattentive. "How are the preparations for the Hellmouth force going? You're dispatching a team, I believe?"
Before he could answer, Gardiner grumbled, "In my day, no slayer would have dreamed of abandoning her duty to run off and get married. Faithful service -- that's what's missing from the current Chosen."
"I think twelve years of fighting the forces of darkness -- which, I believe, is longer than any other slayer has served within the Council records -- entitles her to consider such things," Heath countered. "Besides, which Chosen do you mean? There are, after all, two."
That provoked more grumbling from Gardiner about how that wouldn't have happened in his day either, but the others ignored him. "An interesting point," Parker said from his place at the head of the table. "The fact that no new slayer was called after her second death indicates that the line has perhaps irrevocably passed from her. Given her…independence, I think Quentin was wise to not place any bar to her departure. With our own team manning the Hellmouth, we will have much more control over any situation that arises."
Quentin wasn't sure of that at all, especially with Mike leading the team. The point, however, was not worth disagreeing with his father-in-law in public over. "There is another solution that has presented itself," he offered. "Faith is apparently eligible for parole later this year and with her release from prison, it would give us a slayer within easy striking distance of the Hellmouth."
"Why would she agree to help us?" Heath asked. "She's proven she has no love for the Council and I doubt she'll be willing return to the fold. After that rather botched attempt of wet works to deal with her, I don't think I blame her."
The plan wasn't his, but Quentin saw no reason to mention that fact. "She has supposedly reformed, so I imagine she'll be willing to fight the good fight. The plan is to have her work with Angel Investigations, who would, given their brief to "help the hopeless," probably accompany her to Sunnydale and provide added assistance."
"Is Wyndham-Price's boy still working with that group?" Ridley asked, thus disproving Quentin's theory he'd been asleep since desert.
"It is my understanding that he is."
Oglethorpe snorted. "I don't hold with consorting with vampires."
"You seem quite friendly with Ashbury-Smythe," Parker pointed out.
"That's different; he's our vampire. Besides, he's a Cambridge man."
For a brief minute, the conversation devolved into the traditional argument over which university was better, with Oglethorpe holding firm for Cambridge and King's College. There was no acrimony, though, and their attention soon returned to the matter at hand. "Aside from the potential of actually having a slayer available for the apocalypses that seem to happen on an appallingly regular basis in Sunnydale," Parker said, "is there any other advantage to this plan?"
"She is the current holder of the line," Gardiner said with a tone that said he was surprised Parker hadn't realized the obviousness of the situation. "If she's out there doing what slayers are supposed to do, we increase our chances of acquiring a slayer who might be more manageable -- and I think that is something we can all agree on."
There was indeed agreement and the Seven pronounced themselves satisfied the plan. Parker favored his son-in-law with a smile. "Clarice gave me her opinion of the port when she came to visit last week, but I wanted to know yours, Quentin…"