Wednesday, April 27, 2011 ? 11:53 PM

Tim stood an inch and a half below six feet tall but had the tendency to act like he was larger, a lifetime spent under the care and protection of himself. He was the poster child for looking out for number one because no one else was going to. Perhaps in his past there had been dreams and hopes of a lighter nature, but those had been dashed. Rather than moving beyond and growing as a person, Tim let that seed of disappointment root deep inside of him and blossom into an angry, bitter tree. He?d always been one for risks and troubles?rules were made for sheep?but following the failure of idealistic hopes his dabbling in dangerous things became his career. He wore that attitude as a cloak and his mere presence at time conveyed his ?fuck you? attitude. He was a liar and a crook with a number of associates and very few friends. Tim looks the type who can handle himself, to an extent. Unfortunately he pushes boundaries constantly. Even if he thought he could take someone, upfront isn?t really his style. He?d rather slip the dagger in when your back is turned. This would be the reason behind any friendly or charming behavior on his part, lulling others into a false sense of security before he screws them over. There may be a moment before he flashes his ?I?m harmless? smile that one might think twice about trusting the man before them.

Presently, the man sat hunkered on a stool at the kitchen counter, black work boots balanced on the cross bars on the sides of the seat he occupied. Threads from worn jeans reached from the fraying hems down toward the floor. A heavy black leather jacket, pulled over a basic grey t-shirt, covered his hunched back. After picking the lock to get in and taking a detailed tour of the flat?wondering the reason behind the bottle of men?s cologne, Alpha, he?d found in her bathroom cabinet?he?d helped himself to a Silver Mark Lager from the fridge as well as a few containers of leftovers and settled in to wait for the apartment?s tenant to return home. A fork taken from a drawer, he hadn?t bothered with a plate or reheating. Even cold, the green beans cooked with bacon and saut?ed onions, buttered mashed potatoes and pulled beef tasted far better than the fare he usually ate.

Thursday, April 28, 2011 ? Morning

Morning came, finding Clover curled haphazardly in tussled sheets?discarded there without care. Stirring, her body protested the movements. A review in the mirror, however, revealed no tell-tale signs marred that delicate skin. Just as well, Harris would be less than pleased if his investment showed up for breakfast looking battered. The apartment empty but for her, this time there followed no shed of glory in reviewing events from the night before. Penance was not something to rejoice over, it was something you did because you had to.

She took care of what she might in her flat, preparing for her meeting with Harris and knowing to expect Tim?s return later in the day. Thoughts hung heavy in her mind, unsure of that which she agreed to but knowing she could not back out. She wondered with an ache how it would be once Tim returned to the apartment, before tucking those thoughts away. Business first. A deep breath and Clover rallied herself, her usual smile in place as she headed down to meet Harris at the Bodhi Tree Caf? downstairs. Her new boss and Alpha?s Beltane plans would be a welcomed distraction?

Thursday, April 28, 2011 ?Afternoon (continued)

The warehouse stood toward the edge of West End, abandoned but for those creatures that made their dens in the spaces between. The afternoon?s sun lighting the interior through windows set up high in the walls. Tim guided Clover into the building, through a maze of debris, before coming to a door leading into a back room. Knuckles rapped a particular pattern against the wood.

The door cracked, allowing yellow eyes to peek out. Gaze shifted over the pair before moving and allowing the door to open fully, Eddan holding the door and gesturing them in with a wide toothy smile. Strange little creature, Eddan is. Yellow eyes, full of age and knowledge, locked into the face of an awkward teen-aged boy. Tall and gangly, he looked like one who often forgot to eat. One might wonder what his diet consisted of as those pale irises gobbled up Tim?s companion.

?The goddess?? Words spoken in a hushed hiss, licked at earlobes with greedy eagerness. ?Come to be split open??

Tim?s buoyant exterior slid into something hard as the other spoke. A rough hand grabbed the cloth of Eddan?s shirt and pulled him away from the door.

?Slimy F*cker.? Muttered as he pushed the being against the wall beyond the door, the length of his arm blocked the air passage of Eddan?s neck. ?What did I say?? Applying more pressure in that hold.

Yellow eyes rolled wildly about in the being?s head. Wiry hands flailed and failed to reduce the hold on him. That hiss of a voice, choked out in a pain filled wheeze as the creature was cowed. ?Tim say behave or Eddan will be tiny, tiny pieces, no one will find.?

The pressure lifted a little from Eddan?s throat, only to test if the lesson was learned.

?Eddan play nice? nice? so? so very, very nice.? A purr mixed into the hushed hiss, watching Tim.

The man grunted, shoving the other away from him and the wall with a smack to the head. A dark look signaled that the being would better his chance of survival by getting to work and staying out of the way. Only then did steel blues turn toward to door to seek out Clover, if she hadn?t run away.

The little whispers in the back of her mind didn?t come, despite having ample reason to do so with the gaze and manner of the yellow-eyed boy. Still, her willingness to follow the invitation of his gesture halted with his comment and remained at bay as Tim roughed him up. When he looked to her Clover was hovering just outside the frame of the door, unsure if she should continue through or not.

Tim?s gaze found her there, still by the door and with it wide open no less. Quick steps bringing him beside her, a grasp of hand above her elbow to guide her inside. Steel blues surveying the building beyond the door before closing it behind them. A click sounded as the door locked.

Eddan moved quickly after Tim?s reprimand, swift to set up the chair and other supplies. If those yellow eyes glanced at Clover any more, they did it covertly and in fear of Tim catching him at it. It was curious work, this getting of blood, and whatever satisfaction Eddan had hoped to get out this job had been dashed somewhere between the wall and the ache in his throat. Now he just wanted it over and the pair of them out of his workshop. With implements ready in hand he ventured his attention to Tim, waiting.

A dirty look shot at the being for making this harder than it should have been. Without his stupid little comment, Clover would have already been in the chair. Tim?s mind also focused on the path that while she?d given her word for this venture, Eddan very likely had made it difficult for an easy repeat. The man did well to keep his anger in check, comforting himself with thoughts of a bloody Eddan. It was amazing how none of that carried in his eyes when he turned a charming smile to Clover.

?Sooner done, sooner gone, yeah.?

He guided her to sit in the pilfered dentist?s chair, putting an arm in Eddan?s reach while watching him closely and with eyes hard with warning. A gaze that said, ?Piss me off a little more and see how many fingers I leave you to work with.? Except that Tim was well beyond counting off fingers and now moving on to other body parts.

Clover allowed Tim to guide her, sitting in that chair and lying back. After the shortest fleeting look at Eddan, she kept her blue-greys trained on the man who had brought her here.

Quick, well practiced movements. Eddan hoped reminding Tim of his usefulness would keep him from any serious retribution. Arm tied off, he put a little effort into touching the girl?s hand, quietly muttering, ?Make fist, make fist.? Needle and tube lined up, he found the vein and cleaned the spot before piercing through. Neat work, good work, Tim will be pleased, not hurt Eddan. From there he kept a good eye on the collection bag, readying for exchanging it out with a fresh one. Five pints, Tim had said.

Five pints was a lot, enough to kill or seriously threaten someone who wasn?t her. Clover didn?t know how much was going to be taken, Tim hadn?t said, but if or when she found out she wouldn?t be surprised. Five pints?Exactly what Sacriphant took from her on occasion. Not enough to kill one like Clover, but enough to drain a goodly amount of energy from her. As the draining continued, those blue-grey eyes first found it hard to focus on Tim?s face and then lost themselves to darkness entirely.

Thursday, April 28, 2011 ?Early Evening

Clover awoke, tired and with a buzzing ache in her head. Eyelids wincing close from the protest in her skull. Her mouth felt dry and her limbs heavy. Slowly, blinking several times in the process, she opened her eyes to look around. Finding herself still in that small room in that forgotten warehouse in the West End, the only relief to hand being that Eddan appeared to be absent.

Tim leaned toward Clover, having found a chair to pull up next to the one she rested in. Finding her awake he pressed the straw of a juice box to her lips.

?Drink up.?

Beside him on the ground was a bag of more juice and some sugar cookies, innocent talismans from times before. Bought because they worked and not due to some desire to go back to a time that could never be again. When another man had done the draining and Tim nursed Clover back to health. As it was Clover, it wouldn?t take long?little food, little rest?she?d be ready to go again before dawn. Tim knew Clover?s resiliency, nothing tied her down. No one. The juice box squeezed a bit tighter.

Resilient and obedient, Clover?s lips covered the straw and slowly sucked down the juice provided. Soft blue-greys watching the features of Tim?s face before the distraction of nearly choking on the sudden inflow of liquid had her pulling away and coughing. The arms of the chair used to help her sit up as she cleared her lungs, water coming to her eyes from the effort. The rush from sitting up so quickly made her dizzy.

Anger assuaged. Tim?s hand went to Clover?s back to sooth her from the sudden fit. Good that her eyes had been pulled elsewhere, missing the satisfied smirk that crossed the man?s features. He pulled the juice box away until she had breathing under control again and then offered it back to her. Guiding her to rest back and hold the box. Hand free, he dug out the cookies and helped himself to one before giving her half of another and relaxed back in his chair.

Settled back in the chair, Clover finished her juice with care, nibbled the cookie with caution. Different place, another time, but the situation was not new to either of them. She sat, eating and drinking in small portions, until her head spun less and her legs felt steadier. Eventually she noticed the beg that provisions were being provided from and wondered when he?d left and how long he?d been gone.

?Is it late?? Her voice soft, tired.

?Not by your standards, Love.?

He leaned over to her again, checking the heat of her flesh and the responsiveness in her eyes. His hand ended on her thigh, using it as leverage when he stood.

?I think you?re set enough to be taken home.? Tim nodded toward the door. He bent, looking through the sack and finding little of worth to take with them. Eddan could have the remains. Assisting Clover from the chair he let her lean against him as he led her first from the room and then from the building. Her closeness, in a weakened state, made the blood run hot through his veins. On the way home he would offer distracting little stories of small adventures he?d had since last they saw each other, all the while hid mind lingering in thoughts circling around his control over her.

The sun fleeing from the sky when they exited the building as started on the way back to her place. Tim hadn?t lied about it not being that late. It didn?t matter. She was worn and eager to lie down on her couch. Half an ear given to the tales Tim told, half a smile following his cues. She left it up to him to guide her where they needed to go.

Thursday April 28, 2011 ? Evening (Continued)

Sometime during the shadow show of slowly removed jeans, Tim arrived, first stopping to check the lock that the other man broke. He'd taken such care to pick it the night before and this one goes barging in. Eyes narrowed in thought, considering what kind of man had that sort of strength. It made him curious. It probably wouldn't make him overtly cautious. Then he slipped inside, admiring the display of curves behind the screen for a long moment as the door shut behind him. He took his coat off, hanging it up on the rack by the door.

There was always water from the sink. The fridge held various liquors, though she was out of Silver Mark. A few Badsiders remained. There was also a selection of juices: orange, apple and cranberry with Bottled water in the fridge. A short fridge for wine beside the one for food. Glasses in a cabinet.

Silently thanking some god or devil he'd once helped nurse Everett through a nasty cold, and still remembered some small tidbits about what one should drink and when, He pulled open cabinet doors while she padded toward the bedroom. He rifled through the fridge and mixed orange juice with water, letting the fridge shut behind him. He turned toward the bedroom just in time to catch that glance Tim cast toward the screen as he came in the door. That look spoke volumes and Gideon smiled coldly to himself as he lifted the glass with the arch of a brow toward the other and ducked behind those screens... only to find Clover sprawled in underwear on the bed. "Jesus, fuck, girl." He sank one knee onto the mattress and put a hand on her shoulder. "Roll over, luv, and drink this. I meant for you to put on something dry, not get ready for a spread on page six."

Tim didn't catch the meaning behind the others look. He'd caught him looking, sure. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen more of. Probably nothing the other hadn't seen more of or why else would he be there? Tim decided it was an invitation to follow. Leaning against the wall at the edge of the bedroom, he watched Clover and Gideon. More Clover, because she was an eye full. Arms cross and perfectly at eased, he had the air of one who lived there and saw this all the time. He gave a little whistle under his breath.

"But it's appreciated, Doll."

Clover was ready for sleep, but someone wanted something. Roll over. She heard in her mind and resignedly did so. Rolling over and doing well to sit up at the head of her bed. Gideon at her side, Tim watching her. There was a very far away part of her mind that chuckled. The voyeur and the vamp, history repeating. Hand open to take whatever Gideon had brought her.

Spread of cold fingers against her shoulder blade in support, he helped guide the glass to her mouth, not entirely trusting the grasp of her fingers. It took every ounce of control he had not to turn around and hurl that glass at Tim's head the second that whistle pierced the air in the bedroom. A muscle in his jaw jumped hard, though he glanced back over his shoulder with nothing more than a benign, thin smile. "Tim, was it? How about you make yourself useful and get our girl a shirt? She's freezing." Still warm as most, but for Clover that felt like ice in comparison to the delicious heat her skin usually held. He relinquished the glass and tugged covers out from under her legs only to bundle them over her.

Tim's laughter wasn't voiced, it lived in his smile and eyes. The other had impressive strength, but he was at a loss for what was going on. Worried about the little goddess. Tim would think back on this later and have himself a good chuckle. There was a wardrobe in the room that Tim ignored as he moved for the bed, coming alongside it opposite Gideon. Here's the bone he'll throw, doing what the man said. Tim peeled the black shirt from his chest, muscled and marred. It was a shirt. Not only a dry one, but warmed from the heat of his body. He waited for Clover to finish her drink, then leaned over to help her into his tee.

More juice downed for the day, with help. Gideon did the better job of it as he didn't cause her to choke offhand. With the glass relinquished, she gave Gideon a smile in thanks. Covers pulled over her legs, a shirt put over her head, and arms finding their way through.

Once the shirt was set, Tim tweaked Clover's chin, giving her lips a light kiss. "Rest up, yeah."

Gideon took the glass back and rose from his kneel on the bed to back off. Home safely and seemingly at ease with the incredible bastard named Tim, he really had no further claim on Clover or her wellbeing. It was one of those nice things about the girl, she didn't play those little games of ownership, and didn't particularly inspire them in him. It had been concern, and even if he would only admit it grudgingly, a deeper vein of caring for the sweet creature that had driven his actions earlier. Tucked in bed, he was all too happy to pause in the doorway and offer her that half-crooked smile before he retreated to the kitchen and returned the glass to the sink. He paused, hands resting on the edge of it, arms braced straight as he turned over the what or why of Clover's unexplained blood loss.

Tired and hardly energy to return that brush of lips against her own. Once parted, Clover gave a smile to Gideon as he left the bedroom. Then laying down in her blankets with the shirt around her and falling asleep near instantly. Without any disruption, she'd wake bright and early the next morning her usual self.

Tim lingered behind, tucking the rest of her in. Running a hand over her hair and side, slowly. He was aware the other hadn't left. At least he hadn't heard the door. Thinking about the door reminded him he'd need to get that taken care of, that sort of thing might bring unwanted attention his direction. Getting the door fixed quickly and quietly as possible would be in his best interest. One more glance for the sleeping form of Clover, then he was crossing through the living room toward the kitchen. There might be a Badsider or two with his name on them.

At the sound of boots against the kitchen floor the tell of the muscle jumped again at his cheek. There was a long pause before he turned to rest back against the counter, arms crossing. He was still sodden, and bent to grab a dishtowel to dry his face with. He tossed the thing in a ball on the island and ran a hand back through wet hair standing it all on end like an irate porcupine as he regarded Tim in unabashed interest tinged with no small amount of cold calculation. As glacial blues ticked over the other he gave off the rather unsettling impression of an accountant weighing and totaling the sums and detractions of the man.

Fridge opened and beer removed. He took the cap off with a rough grasp of calloused hand. He looked no less at home as he leaned against the counter by the sink, shirtless and under the gaze of the other. His light brown hair wet, he ran a hand into it to shake out the moisture. This only made him look wilder as the bottle was brought to his lips and he took a long drink. It could turn into a silent or staring contest. After his long pull the bottle parted from Tim's lips to reveal a cool smile. Waiting.

Silent staring contest indeed. Tim's cool smile was returned in kind as Gideon shoved off the counter to close rank between himself and the other. They were damn near of a height, Gideon a hair taller, but not by much, and something about that match pleased him, grew the Cheshire grin wider, as did that insufferable, smirking, self-contained preening. With Clover removed from the picture, Tim became more of a fascination and less of what seemed dangerously like a threat. Nearly nose to nose, ice-water eyes seemed more blue than colorless as they narrowed slightly. "Clever boy, hm? At least you think you are. If that girl in there is drunk than Satan ice skated home tonight." Low voice, dripping warm pleasure. Posturing was second nature, and while Gideon was not about to lay claim, he wasn't the type to run away from a perfectly good fight to be had either.

The other was in his face. Tim returned the narrowed gaze with dull eyes. In a game that he wasn't immediately interested in and the other was in the way of him drinking his beer. If it was going to be a fight, Tim knew better than to start it face to face. But that disinterested look fled as Gideon spoke. Tim smiled, he agreed that he was clever. His beer resting in hand on the counter to the side, provided a little music as Tim tapped the pads of his fingers against the bottle. His own lazy smile a decent match for the other's. "I don't know what would make you think that, mate." He also didn't know the explanation for the strength of the broken lock, but he was already wondering if it could be bottled.

"Because I've spent enough nights watching Clover downing champagne to know bloody well the girl can drink, and hold it. And because I'm not a fucking idiot..." Head canted to one side with a breath of a laugh. "...and something tells me you are far too used to dealing with nothing but fucking idiots." Something in that lazy, insolent smile, the relaxed carriage that spoke loudly of someone very, very sure of himself. Fingers itched, ached to clench, wondered what that jaw would feel like against knuckles, how deep he could sink a fist into the flat plane of that stomach. God, it was very nearly better than the sex had been with that luscious little thing lying in bed in the other room, this brand of excitement. How long had it been since someone stood their ground with him? Catlin had got one good blow in, yes...but he also kept a wary eye on Gideon at all times, knowing full well what he was capable of, and trusting in promises not to harm. Tim had no such reassurances, and that doorknob spoke for itself. Thalon might well have been the last to be foolhardy enough to take Gideon on, but even then he hadn't been anything quiet human himself either. Tim was human, perfectly so, and that steady beat of his heart betrayed nothing. It was heady stuff, and the pleased expression Gideon wore had so very little to do with intimidation suddenly.

"You've seen her drink." Only the shortest inch of a nod, given their proximity. He didn't rise to the bait of being told he only dealt with idiots. That seemed to imply he wasn't as clever as he thought he was and Tim was pretty sure he was that clever. Turning his head just enough to bring the bottle closer to his lips once more, "Must not have been givin' her the right drinks. Doesn't make you right, just not well informed." Taking a quick drink. Tim was testing the waters. Gideon had given him a believe reason for thinking there was something wrong, now here was a plausible excuse. There were drinks that would knock even a god on their arse. Though Tim was pretty sure Gideon didn't know that little factoid either. "I gave her something Elvin. Runic symbols an? the like. You see her knock those back, have you? Gideon?"

"No, I haven't. Do those drinks usually cause blood loss? Because if they do, I wouldn't go offering them to her again if I were you." Feline slant of pleased eyes. "Like I said, fucking idiots. It would take one not to see she's practically translucent, and when I held her that heart of hers was barely beating even though she was breathing twice as fast. The skin under her eyes is blue, mate." Emphasis on the last word, twisting it into the less refined accent of the other man. "And she's perfectly coherent, aside from being so drained she can't put but five words together at a time." All easy explanations, one didn't need anything more than six senses to pick up on. He shifted weight once, foot to foot and reached out to pluck that bottle out of Tim's hand, setting it out of reach on the counter behind himself before leaning forward slightly, hand bracing on the counter at Tim's side. "That would have had to have been one hell of a drink you gave her, hm? Why would you do that, then? Only way to get her into bed with you?"

He played a gambit to see if he could get any useful information from the other, it didn't pan out. The bloke could have dealt with something similar before to have that knowledge. Didn't explain the strength and Time didn't become any less curious about that point, but he'd tuck it away for now. Caught in a lie, then. Wasn't the first time. Hands up as if to say you caught me. The drink getting taken away from him irritated him more than anything the man had to say. Irritation gave way to amusement to hear the other man imply that he, someone, anyone would need to use a ploy to get Clover into bed. He was chuckling for a moment, before his features turned into that sweet 'eat shit' smile.

"Cause the bird's real selective."

That itching hand couldn't resist any longer. Gideon was piss poor at denying himself sometimes, and Tim's endlessly amusing stream of reactions was like a goad. Fingers of the hand not leaning on the counter were at Tim's throat, closing round that column that filled their grip, no slender thing that throat, and the bone, sinew and muscle beneath that cool grip sent off a chemical pop somewhere in Gideon's brain that flooded the rest of him with sheer bliss. Fingers caged, not tight enough to bruise, but tight enough to pinch. "Yes, remind me to talk with her about that next time?" A light shove with the release, well, a light shove for Gideon at least, and he stepped back, grinning like a spoiled child with a new plaything. "Have fun." He turned and made for the door. "Oh...and if for any reason she turns up dead? You'll be the next, clever boy."

Tim learned the other's breaking point the hard way. He was a stubborn one though, so while there was the pinch of pain as Gideon grabbed his neck with a cold hand, Tim just watched Gideon with something like a sneer. The coldness of his touch something to be thought on when he wasn't choking. Then he was released, bending over and coughing to clear the pipes that had been pinched together. Coughing fit giving way to another chuckle. Clover's playmates were always that to him?amusing. Somewhere between find air and his amusement he managed to gasp out. "Guess I have nothing to worry about then." More chuckles, speaking to the man's back. "See you round Gid." Because Tim? Tim wasn't going anywhere.

He paused by the door with a genuinely warm smile that somehow seemed more deadly dangerous than all the others that had come before it. Hand on that loose, broken door knob that spun in its bracket. "Oh, I hope so." The door thudded lightly against its frame behind him and swung back open slowly, hinges crying gently.

Tim got his beer from the counter where Gideon had moved it. Another long pull taken, ignoring the slight ache in his throat. Steel blues considered the bed room before his feet carried him to the couch and Tim draped himself there. It had been an interesting day, profitable and perhaps even providing a lead on future profits. Tim ran a thumb up and down his neck in thought, thinking on how he could further twist events to his advantage.

Friday April 29, 2011 ? Evening (Continued)

Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he was grinning to himself like a maniac as he descended the stairs, thoroughly and deeply pleased at what had just transpired. Tim was nothing short of sheer joy to play with, perfect cold ire a match to his own, and like a true masochist he could not help but love each small stabbing wound the other tried to inflict.

Clover made her way into the building from the street, returning from the Annex and doing her best to promote the Alpha booth for the next day's Beltane festivities. With luck there wouldn't be a backlash from the reporter spraying himself with half a bottle's worth of the potent concoction. She was living up to her job title as spokesvixen, the short blue dress snugging against every curve. The keyhole, halter top of the dress richly displayed those assets Harris' had hired her for. Silver heels were soft, near mute as she moved toward the stairs to reach her apartment. A distracted smile crossing her lips, recalling the enjoyment of the tour Tass had given her after the duels. There lingered not even the slightest reminder in her features of the previous day's blood loss.

He paused in the middle of the steps as Clover drew up to the base of them. If that grin could have grown it might have slit his face in two. She looked good, better than that with the way that dress left very, very little to the imagination, and recovered from her adventures. That at least was a releif. If she could recover that quickly from such a draining some of his worst concerns were alleviated. "Hullo Hummingbird. Fancy meeting you here." On the steps of her own door.

The flutter of lashes in surprise, blue-greys lifted to the greeter. Any flicker that of self consciousness that had shown then night before gone. Her smile spread further, finding Gideon there and feet carried her toward him. The scent and sense of spring alive and in full bloom about her, even a little headier, given the night's events. "Gideon, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She took in his presence with a slow eye, voice making a buffet of the word 'pleasure' passing through her lips. It didn't cross her mind that he was possibly there to check up on her state. Nor did her mind focus on the likelihood of Tim being within, now that she drew up with Gideon.

"Just passing time with your guest. He's a pleasure." Smooth smile gave nothing away, though those bright eyes danced dangerously. He reached out for her elbow and stepped down to share a step with her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Glad to see you're looking better, luv." He drank her in appreciatively. "So much better."

Warmed beneath the touch, even with Gideon not being warm. The part of his comment that compared her to her previous state brushed over to focus on the obvious compliment on tonight's attire. Flattery gets you everywhere. She did a pose and turn for his benefit. "I was out at the Annex promoting." Stopping and looking up in thought, she tried to remember if she'd ever said anything to Gideon about her new job. Or if he'd seen the billboards.

"I hate to tell you, hummingbird, but that is a terrible outfit to be out promoting cologne in." Teasing tone as he smoothed the hand at her elbow down her arm lightly.

"Mm, you think?" Stepping closer as her head tilted, brushing lips against cheek before directing her voice softly toward his ear. "You should see what I plan to wear for the booth." Delicious promises in her tone and eyes as she pulled away.

"Oh yes." He dipped his head for that brush of a kiss and slid an arm round her, fingers splaying over that perfect deep curve of the small of her back. "I'm fairly sure not a single person could see that there was anything for sale outside of the view of those legs." One brow twitched upward at that teasing bait and eyes narrowed. "If its any worse than this one, Harris is sure to fire you for causing a riot."

Grinning up to him. Clover had been wondering if there would be a good turnout, but with recent positive feedback--on herself and the cologne--she was feeling pretty positive about the event. Looking forward to it even. "How does the saying go? Any publicity is good publicity?" Indicating with a curve to her lips that the dress was indeed 'worse' than the one sure wore tonight.

"Indeed, luv." Fingers drummed softly against her backside as his hand slipped a bit lower. "Don't suppose I could steal you away for a while, could I?" Backward glance toward the door behind them.

Her eyes followed the same trail as his. She wondered how long Gideon's visit had been, his tone didn't carry much care for her friend. She didn't blame him. Even before events Tim had never been much of a 'people person'. The idea of going inside with Gideon with Tim being there didn't appeal in the least, so when Gideon made the offer it was gratefully accepted. "Where will you steal me away to?" If the question sounded like she was debating depending on where they'd be headed, her movement to retreat from her apart would tell otherwise.

"Somewhere I can take that rag of a dress off you." Broad, pleased smile at her acquiesce, and his arm rose to bend round her shoulders as they moved down the stairs. Let Tim wait a bit longer for his meal ticket to come home. He steered them off toward the direction of the center of town, along cleaner streets than they'd walked last night.

Near cooing in response, agreement to his plan of action. Clover let herself be guided away from her place beneath his arm. Tim far from her thoughts. He'd just have to wait.

May 10, 2011

Quiet knock on the door of Clover's flat at the Zen Gardens, not too far after twilight had just begin to fade. This was not a visit Gideon was looking forward to, but at least he was not nearly the shambolic wreck of a man he'd been the last time he came rapping at her door. Gradually adjusting to his new chains, and slipping them when he could. Same old game he'd played in London, and probably best he'd get back into the habit of it. Another knock, endlessly impatient to get the whole mess over with. Apologies were not his favorite thing, and did not come easy in the least. Still, Clover was a sweet girl, and he had done nothing but draw her into a dangerous trap in spite of his earlier warnings. Sure she'd handled herself, and managed to leave...he still hadn't figured that one out, but chalked it up to Kestrel's mercurial nature.. but he'd been complicit.

Tim took his time, even with the impatient knocking, letting whoever was on the other side of the door stew a while while he cracked his beer open by the fridge before heading to the door. Opening it in his usual manner, just enough to peer out into the hall with studied friendly eyes. He'd started playing nice for the neighbors. His hair was damp, recently showered. The scent of soap and the aura of Alpha cologne clung to him. He was impartial to it but it yielded great results. A white tee covered his chest, clingy tightly to spots still moist when it was put on. Dark jeans covering his legs were new, a gift from his flatmate. Bare of foot. The affected friendly smile faltered into a straight line when Gideon's presence was revealed on the other side of the door.

"Gid. You really should stop dropping by unannounced, mate." Or announced.

"Tim." Flat, unimpressed intonation. He spread a hand against the door and pushed it the rest of the way open to step in past the man without waiting for invitation. He knew better by now. No suit tonight, just jeans, a worn shirt covered by a thin grey hoodie layered under black leather of what impressed to be a very expensive italian motorcycle jacket, its stiff collar brushing against his throat. He hesitated in the hallway, taking inthe living room before eyes turned toward the kitchen and the bedroom's screen.

"Clover in?"

A muted snort of air at Gideon's entrance, but he moved aside without issue and pushed the door shut with ease behind them. No sense bothering the neighbors. Tim sipped his beer, watched Gideon look around the apartment. Everything was in its usual place. The only real noticeable difference was Gideon's jacket tossed over a stool at the bar and several stacks of cash set out on the coffee table beside a black case and open duffel. Tim made his way around Gideon and headed towards the couch,

"What do you think?" He sat in the middle of the couch, picking up the cash and putting it in the duffel followed by the black case.

"I'm guessing by the fact you are fully clothed, no."

Thin sickle of a smile. He moved to collect his jacket, sparing a half a glance for Tim's little cache. He lent against the bar on the precipice of an elbow and let a dark brow draw upward.

"Doing well for yourself here, then?" Small talk was cheap enough, and Tim's hard edges were easy things to cut oneself against, pleasant distraction from real pain, especially when the one doing the cutting was as easy to look at as Clover's new flatmate.

"Easy to get lucky round here." He tugged the duffel closed and set it to the side of the couch away from Gideon. Smirking to himself as he responded. His expression went through another change as Gideon picked up the jacket, smirk vanishing into another hard line--one that reached into the depth of his eyes.

"Figures." He leaned against the couch, putting an arm over the back of it. Knuckled cracking. Another smirk painted his features, this one far darker than the first. "Shouldn't be surprised, your jacket and all. Course there is something I'm curious about."

Ah bliss. That hard set of his mouth. Gideon's own features relaxed into feline pleasure at it, the inward set of shoulders giving slightly toward their former devilmaycare line. He canted his head to the side and gave Tim a beatific smile.

"Oh yes?"

In no rush, Tim took another pull of his beer--sizing up the other as those internal gears were at work. A slow nod as he drank, then the bottle was set down on the now cleared table. His now empty hand lifted to scratch at his slightly scruffy jaw.

"Clover comes home, wearin just a jacket and her heels. An there was this bite mark, back of

May 17, 2011

Those that knew Eddan would be surprised at first glance of his living arrangements; for all that the being was unusual his home looked completely--if uncared for--normal to the glancing eye. A small blue house with chipping paint tucked uncomfortably close to its neighbors with a matchbook of a yard. Chain link fencing surrounded the property and a sign that read 'Beware of Dog.' Though the dog house outside sits empty with a chain and leash buried into the over growth of grass, unused for ages. Curtains drawn against the sun or prying eyes. The screen door was busted, sitting at an angle before the solid grey door. A plain black matt sat before the doorway.

Elias spent the vast majority of his waking hours -- including many where he should have been sleeping -- working diligently on his thesis, having gathered what he hoped was sufficient "research" for the monumental writing task that lay before him. However, when opportunities presented themselves that he felt would be sufficiently useful in the future, he roused from old archives, cramped study carrels, or his increasingly cluttered bedroom at Helena's house to go check it out.

No sense in wasting time, though. Rapid steps took him at a brisk walk, nearly a job, right up to the fence of the run-down blue house. Once he verified the sign was a bluff, he pushed through the rusty gate and right up to the door. He knocked hard on the doorway, while at the same time looking over his shoulder for prying eyes, his own gaze narrowed in cruel suspicion under the brim of his fedora.

Despite being the owner of the home, Eddan was no longer the master. Tim had come in to dominate the entirety of the other man's house--letting Eddan keep only his bedroom due to the set up that was in place. The bedroom would be a dead giveaway of the lack of humanity that the yellow-eyed boy held, so it was good it was tucked away. Eddan cowered at the sound of the knock, having been standing, he quickly tucked himself into a corner. Tim, the new lord and master of the domain, rose from the couch with beer in hand. Steel blue eye glanced through the peephole to check the visitor while the beer shifted hands and Tim picked up the bat by the door. With careful movements he undid the locks and cracked the door open. "Help you mate?" Tim looked seedy with just the barest edge of charm to dull it down. He wore a white wife-beater, jeans, and sturdy work boots. Dirty blonde hair looked slept on and he hadn't shaved recently.

Eli was still too green to realize the other man carried a weapon, but he caught onto the dangerous look in general. Instinctively he took half a step backwards as he sized Tim up. "Moonshine. Friend told me you had a special batch, something outta this world... enough to make a fella see red."

Tim assessed the man with a dark smile. Pulling the door open as he stepped back to allow the other entrance, "We got what you're looking for." He nodded his head toward the interior in further invite, looking a little less dangerous for the time being. The door shut behind Elias. Tim sipped his beer and moved over to the couch. The door opened up to a living room, fitted with a couch, TV, coffee table and two arm chairs. The furniture stood in varying degrees of age. The beer was set on the coffee table, ready to create another ring to mark the surface. A weak lamp lit the inside. More light came from the overhead in the kitchen the room opened into. Litter covered the floor, boxes and wrappers. Tim plopped down in the center of the couch, pulling a leather case out from under the couch and setting it before him. "I'm trustin' you're ready t'pay for it. Not wastin' my time." The bat set against the couch beside him. Eddan's form, blue and yellow striped polo and khakis, was huddled into a corner, watching the new comer with suspicious yellow eyes.

Elias picked his way through the mess, but once he reached the couch he lifted his eyes to Eddan, not Tim, though he was speaking to the latter. The yellow-eyed being in the corner was very... intriguing, certainly. "Well... that all depends, mister." He wasn't about to tell how much money he carried, keeping the cash in an inside pocket so as not to create an outside lump; that would defeat the purpose of haggling. "On if you can prove that this here is the genuine article... and how much you plan on charging me for it."

He seemed to have ventured out alone to this man's house, but he appeared unconcerned. Perhaps he was very used to these kinds of dealings, which was likely; perhaps he had backup, too, in case things went bad. Also possible. Eli pushed up the brim of his hat to have a better look at Tim, losing interest in Eddan (for the time being) after a long moment.

"If you know the code you know the price. Less you're thinking of a batch discount? Then maybe we can work somethin' out." He popped the case open, revealing the small vials of red blood, it moved like it had been freshly pumped mere seconds ago. Tim pulled out a larger vial, dipping a thin mixing stick into the glass and pulling out a small droplet. He offered it up to the man in show. Then snapped at the one in the corner, "Eddan. You know the drill." And if Eddan looked ready to argue and waste Tim's time, the knuckles going white on Tim's hand as he clenched the bat did well to stop that. Eddan scurried cover, that is the best was to describe the way that awkward teen managed to move, sitting on the floor between the table and couch and on the other side of Tim, opposite Elias. Without looking at the customer, Eddan lifted the thumb nail of one hand to the back of the other and made a long cut that oozed green. A smell of rotting eggs emitting from the cut. Tim grabbed the hand and applied the blood to only a portion of the fresh wound, and that portion healed as though it had never been touched. "Good enough proof for you, mate?"

Eli sniffed the air subtly once the goddess blood was extracted, before the more obvious smell of the green ooze had even hit the air. Perhaps Tim could tell, the scholar was satisfied the product was genuine even before the cut had been healed. "I was thinking bulk, yeah. To the tune of ten pints... if the discount's any good." He smiled wickedly as he added, "Otherwise, I'll just take the one."

Inwardly Tim cursed his luck with the fallout with Clover. His foot kicking Eddan away, sending the other scurrying back to his corner. "Love t'help you with the ten, mate, but I'm down to four pints in my supply that I can sell in bulk." And we're having issues with our source? that thought read in the narrowing edges of his eyes and the cracking of his knuckles. The larger bottle was put away, the stick wiped clean and tucked back as well. "I'll give you the four at twenty percent off the total cost."

There was no further need to haggle beyond that opening move: this was a new connection, and it was a fair deal. He offered his hand to shake on it, not because Elias was an honorable man... oh no, quite the contrary. But it was the way things were done, where he came from. "Done deal, guy."

Tim gave a nod to Eddan, who scampered off to a back room while Tim shook Elias' hand with a solid firm grip. "Deal." Then nodding to his vanishing partner, "Eddan will get you the goods and you can show me the payment." Eddan returned with four individual pints still in the bags they had been originally drawn into and started packing them into a box for transport. Everything spelled to keep the contents nice a fresh.


Elias did the math in his head as he counted out a stack of credit notes and then passed it over. His were all large bills, which meant he overshot the agreed-upon amount by fifty credits or so, but he nipped any question in the bud when he said, "No change," and pressed the cash into his hand. He turned to the box, watching critically as they were packed. These were quite expensive, after all.

"You know, Tim... if I can call you that, can I, guy?" His lips curled as he looked halfway over his shoulder. "Looks like you've fallen on some pretty rotten luck. Always a shame, when a good dealer loses his supply."

A deal well made. Tim was almost oozing with self-satisfaction until Elias brought up the loss of his supply. He shoved the payment into his pocket and gave Elias a hard look. No, this was just a guy, not the source of his anger and not worth losing a possible paycheck. "Shite happens, mate." Turning his eyes toward Eddan as the man shuffled the box over to Elias before crawling back to his corner. Tim cracked more knuckles. "Not to worry. I got my eye on another supply." Wolfish smile, Gideon's black blood dancing before his eyes.

"...You should know that application," he offered, grunting as he hefted the box, dark eyes watching Eddan skitter away, "isn't my only specialty. I've been known to take part in, ah... acquisition, too, much like you." Then he laughed and shook his head, starting for the door. "Though if you must know... it's strictly the undead variety. Can't imagine it's any interest to you. Pleasure doing business with you, Tim."

Bats didn't just have to be used for violence, they could also be used to keep a business opportunity from walking out the door. "Hold up, mate. Undead, y'say?" He withdrew the bat once he had the others attention. Elias becoming something of more interest to him than just another meal ticket, giving the bloke an up nod. "What's your name?"

"Elias Reid-Granger, graduate student in Osthaven University's necroanthropology program." His smile curled still further. "And I make it a point to know everything there is to know about the undead... by any necessary means. Why, Tim?" He took a step back, turning fully to him now, eyebrows raised, interested. "What interest do the reanimated hold for you?"

"Paycheck." Said first, then he added, "And a bit of personal payback. I owe a bloke." His hand tightened on the bat again and had Gideon been there it might have better use than just a squeeze. "But I don't have the... ah... set up available to handle him on my own." Tim's steel blue eyes burned in a low simmer. If Elias could supply his needs, if he could get hold of Gideon... he'd be close, so close to getting what he really wanted.

"But then... I wonder what possible advantage I leverage by involving you. RhyDin has countless vampires, ghouls, zombies and everything in between... A single creature is hardly worth such trouble. Best of luck on your own," he added, grunting as he again hefted the box, attempting to move past him.

Again the way was blocked, "You help me get this one, it will be to both of our advantages." He slowly licked his lip, speaking more to himself than the other, though Elias and even Eddan would easily hear his words, "Gideon is the key."

Elias scowled, trying harder to force his way as he shot back: "I hardly see how that's -- " Then he stopped, eyes widening with surprise and anger, features twisting into an ugly scowl. "What did you say," he hissed.

That change was interesting. Tim felt a shift and even with that ugly scowl pointed his way, he managed to give Elias an edge of a charming smile. Course, there was likely a number of people who knew Gideon. Tim wasn't sure the source of Elias' reaction, but he didn't feel like the odds were against him. If Elias was agreeable, he came out ahead. If Elias wasn't, if he really wasn't and caused trouble... well, Tim still had his bat. "Gideon. I said Gideon, mate."

He took another step back... then turned to find a place to set the box down, and exerted some small level of control over the simmering rage in his tone as he carefully asked, "Snotty, overdressed... English accent?"

"You know him." And obviously Tim knew him too. He took a relaxed stance, though prepared himself for whatever fallout might follow. "I'm not a fan."

"Me either. So I have... just one tiny clause I require, a single addendum that must be observed, that whatever we do to that sorry bastard, we bring our plan to this point, in the end." He looked at Tim and smiled. It was an evil, ugly thing, that smile.

The moment Elias started to mention a clause, Tim was ready to agree to it. He didn't have to hear it to know he'd accept whatever condition the other had lined up. All Tim saw was the gleaming victory on his own horizon. Besides, he well knew if Elias' condition wasn't to his liking, he'd do as he always did--whatever he wanted. Still, he schooled his expression. He was a study of curious waiting. "And what would that be, Elias?"

"It's quite simple, Tim. Gideon dies."

May 27, 2011

The electric redheaded spokesvixen made her way up to the inn from the direction of the west end. She'd had a good day at work, gone home and changed and now thought she'd pop into the inn for a drink and to see who was around. She wore a grey corset top, tied at the waist with a ribbon in a darker shade of grey, worn jeans and strappy boot heels. A band of silver and crystals in a choker adorned her neck and a silver octopus bracelect sat on her left wrist--a gift from one of the sailors at the docks. A hand lifted to her hair as blue-grey eyes glanced around the inn upon her entering.

Toby sat perched on a barstool like he was ready to leap off of it at any second, the heels of his hands pushed up against his eyelids, fingers slid into his hair. There was a bottle of champagne with a half empty glass nearby. He smelled its tart, bubbly flavor from here with each inhale, annoyed that he had, somehow, subconsciously, chosen something with peaches in it.

Reading his posture with some concern as Clover approached the bar, it mixed with her curiousness at the bottle and glass of champagne that sat near him.

"Toby?" Keeping her voice soft as she approached the bar to lean against a spot beside him.

There was a flicker, then a Shimmer, before Rae was dropped back in the spot that she was in ealier, glass of wine and half eaten cookie still in her hand, She blinked slowly, before she Glanced around, looking for Gauge, whom she had been sitting with ealier. There was a slight frown from her when she didn't see him, before she spotted Toby and Waved.

The muscles in his arms visibly tensed, defining themselves as he gripped his head. He didn't have to look, he recognized those two voices enough..the first one more than the second. He sat still for an impossible length of time, then his hand closed around the flute of champagne, he tipped it back without looking and set it down empty. He didn't exactly trust his mouth to say anything decent.

Clover gave a glance toward Rae as she flickered and appeared on the bar, she offered the girl a smile. Noting the hat with a hindered smile before her gaze returned to Toby. Delicately she reached out to touch his hand, while checking the level of champagn in the bottle.

"Hiya Clover." was said after a moment, when Raelyn Noticed her. Then she finished the rest of the half eaten cookie she had been returned with, then sipped at her glass of wine, unsure if she should See if Toby was alright or not.

Toby's left eye snapped open at the contact, the sharp silver blue of the iris glittering as he cut a look aside to the one it belonged too. He stared, knowing he'd just recognized her voice, but couldn't seem to remember her face, his world still tinged in the redness of rage. His eye flicked to the champagne bottle she had..he slid his hand out from under hers.

"I'm fine. I've only had two." His voice was tight and strained, under control.

"Are you sure?" Rae mumbled after a moment, eyes dancing towards Toby, then Clover, and back again. he didn't sound all to fine to her, but then, maybe she was imagining things.

Moving the bottle aside, Clover's attention return to Toby at his answer and as his hand slid away. She took a seat on the stool beside him,

"Fine? No." Shaking her head with a sad smile, "That part is obviously not true. And I don't think ruling out too much to drink makes it any better." Leaning against the bar to cant her head toward him. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong..." It was true enough, he didn't. But her face recalled some hope that he might share, given that she had opened up to him the other night.

Clover lifted her attention a moment to the woman who went behind the bar, a slight smile and nod of her head in welcome before her eyes returned to Toby.

"Yes, I'm sure." The hard look Toby gave Rae didn't quite fit the forest green of his right eye, even though it looked perfectly natural on his face; all angles sharp enough to slice. He ran his hands back through his hair, two fingers returning to the center of his forehead where once was the border between scarred flesh and smooth. Most of the scars were gone now. He didn't want to look at Clover's face, her open expression.

"I didn't think that anyone would be in here."

It was the most he could answer with, the rest of his body slowly becoming a tense statue of rigid control.

Rae bit down on her lip, and frowned. She hadn't ever seen Toby this...off. That was the best way for her to put it.
"Okies." was murmured softly, before she took another sip of her wine, and reached for the cookie Jar, intent on invading it.

"It is early, but you should never underestimate the desire to drink in others." making a soft joke. Clover stole his glass and picked up the bottle of peach champagne, filling it for herself. Tipping it to him in a form of a toast or silent proof of the words she spoke. Taking a sip. Warmth and comfort lived in an invisible cloud about the woman.

Toby Aradam He felt it, the warmth crawling over him like several spindly, comforting fingers. A growl sounded from deep in his throat, he slipped carefully off the stool, no movement wasted, smooth in a predatorial way. He didn't want to be warmed, or comforted. He wanted to hit something, break something. The fingers at his forehead dug in deeper.

Aged, black leather work boots sounded against the wooded steps of the porch as the man made his way to the door of the inn. Tim's dark jeans were less than new, but hadn't reached the point of fraying. A black leather jacket sat over his shoulders and a white t-shirt. He entered the inn, letting the door close behind him as he moved away and glanced over the faces and bodied of those in the inn. Steel blue eyes stopping on Clover, he smiled. It almost reached his eyes.

Toby's growling was a surprise, the champagne stalling in her mouth and she had to work to swallow as she watched his retreat in concern. A hand moving to set down the flute on the bartop,

"Toby wha--" her voice cutting off as she spied Tim standing just beyond.

Rae continued to nibble the cookie, and then downed the rest of her wine, before she glanced after Toby. For now the urge to follow him was suppressed by the nibbling on the cookie. She glanced at Clover after a moment, before she eyed the bottle she had nearby. "What's that?" was asked curiously, motioning to the bottle of Peach champange.


Oh. He had her attention, did he? Booted feet carried him over to the woman with electric red hair. Bracing a hand on the bar beside her as he invaded into the space around her. A low, scratch of a voice,

"Hey, Catnip."


"Look, I'm fine. I just made a mistake in coming here." Toby turned on his heel, his hand thrown from his head, landing in a fist at his side. His eyes landed unseeing on the man at the door, didn't slide to follow him as he heard the voice over his shoulder.

Clover had completely forgotten what she had been saying. Seeing Tim at the inn like watching the skeletons in your closet come to life and offer to buy you a drink. Though, this skeleton would surely want her to foot the bill. The glass of champagne Clover held was pushed toward Rae as Clover attempted to place space between herself and Tim.

"Peach champagne by the taste of it..." She offered with distraction to Rae's question. Collectiong herself enough to greet the man beside herat the bar, "Tim. Didn't expect to see you here."

Rae hesitated, before she took the glass Clover had pushed towards her, then grabbed several cookies from the cookie Jar.
"Thankies." she said with a nod, before she moved After Toby to make an attempt to Cheer him Up.

It really felt weird for Katt to be wearing a dress or thick heeled shoes. Despite wearing the dress she was still wearing the hoodie that was going to eventually need to be washed. Rubbing her face she stopped center of the porch, attempting to swallow a yawn before it shook her out of her shoes.

Tim's chuckle carried a hint of something dark, but the smile he gave was good-old-boy toothy. Hands spread out in a gesture to fit his words, "Surprise."

Toby couldn't feel any of the effects of alcohol in his system, and made the second mistake of turning around, finding his glass already gone with a severe jolt of annoyance. He stalked behind the bar to claim another one, careful not to break it in the tense set of his fingers. He knew if he didn't temper himself, he was going to just suck the entire bottle down.

It was a surprise to Clover and not exactly a welcomed one. She'd reclaimed the sanctuary of her home, but the cost seemed to be his suddenly taking interest in going to the inn. She glanced at Toby, then over to Tim. Despite her concern for whatever it was that ailed Toby, she was glad it would be distraction enough--recalling the knowledge they had of each other, though they'd never met in person. And with Toby having two eyes now there was nothing to really point him out to Tim. Clover nodded toward the door, speaking to Tim, "We should go talk somewhere."


Tim smirked amusement at her offer.

"Yeah? Where do you want to talk? Your place?" He leaned toward her, his tone lowered as if they spoke of arranging something more intimate than a chat. But considering she'd kicked him out, he was pretty sure she wasn't going to invite him back in.

"No, no, Tim." She shook her head, the thought of his presence in her flat again sunk like a shadow into her soul. She glanced around, eyes flicking voer Toby for a moment before she waved a greeting toward Katt as she walked in. Her attention turning back to Tim,"We can talk somewhere that isn't here and isn't my place."

Steel blue eyes followed her gaze. First when it went to the guy and now when it went to the girl. Clover was always so friendly. Catering. Careful. To everyone else. A tension showed in his jaw.

"Don't feel like talking. I came for a drink." He turned his eyes on the man behind the bar, despite the fact that it looked liked the bloke was having a sh*t day. He was behind the bar, "Get us a beer, mate?"


Toby paused mid swallow, his eyes sliding to Tim. His throat worked the champagne down slowly. He wondered if Tim was kidding.

"No," he hooked his thum toward the vast array of bottles behind him. He had gotten his own, surely everyone else could too.

Katt blinked slowly and cleared her throat sharply. Moving to the break she upnodded to Tim. "I'll get it for you." A little smile was given to Rae in attempt to reassure her as she collected the beers requested. Hopefully two was requested? For two was set on the counter!

Tim shot Toby a partial dark look, it melted away with Katt's offer to fetch the beers.

"Thanks doll." Picking up both of the beers.

Toby matched Tim's expression, not letting himself look over at the sound of Katt's voice. The rest of his third glass of champagne was swallowed audibly.

Looking over at Toby, Tim lifted one beer in mock salute.

"Enjoy your bubbly, mate."

Katt's lips twitched a little more into the smile for Tim though maybe offering a bit of a warning stare. Her head tilted sharply and her emerald eyes landed on Toby like she was about ready to scold. Then again she knew well enough that if he was snappy like that there was a reason. For the moment she chewed on her inner cheek.

Clover chewed her lower lip. A soft smile give the Katt in thanks for fetching Tim's order. She was hoping still to get him to leave with her, however. A hand places over one of his, blue-greys looked beseeching,

"Please."

Victory smirk. Tim knew what that 'please' amounted to. He shot the girl that'd fetch the beers a wink and then put a possessive arm around Clover to guide her toward the alley door.

Clover left herself be guided out, not holding it up with drawn out good-byes. Toby was in a mood, Rae was attempting to tend to it, and Katt... oh, Katt was looking very nice. It was a pity she had to be drawn away. A small wave of fingers offered to the trio before she exited the inn.

((SL picks up here: In Cold Blood))