Kev lost track of time leaning against Fang, the gentle rumble of the van and the soothing murmur of Cindy and Tessa's conversation lulling him into a state of peaceful contentment. He only stirred when the van slowed to a stop at the security checkpoint. The familiar routine began: out of the car, a quick pass through the metal detectors while the van was meticulously searched by the security team. Kev noticed that Rex, who was overseeing the checkpoint, was uncharacteristically professional, his usual taunts and flirtatious remarks absent in Madam Cindy's dignified presence. His interactions were brief, respectful, and efficient.
Once cleared, they were back at the club's main entrance. Fang pushed out of the sliding van door first, taking a deep, deliberate breath of the familiar club air, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he re-entered his domain. As Cindy, Kev, and Talon joined him on the torchlit walkway, Tessa gave a little honk from the driver's seat and called out, "Have a good night, everyone!" before expertly maneuvering the van back towards the garage.
Fang looked at Talon, his expression serious. "Keep your keys in your room," he said, his voice a low command.
Talon nodded, his sharp eyes unwavering. "Yes, sir."
With that, they walked into the club, Fang's arm draped protectively over Kev's shoulders, the vibrant energy of the establishment enveloping them once more.
Skippy and Twitch nodded respectfully as Fang and Kev entered the VIP section, their presence a familiar and welcome sight. Talon, his duty momentarily fulfilled, remained behind with the bouncers, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced vigilance.
Fang led Kev to their usual booth, the plush cushions a comforting embrace amidst the club's vibrant energy. Asmodeus's current performance was an intense classical interpretation, the piano notes sharp and precise, a stark contrast to the soaring, emotional swells of the opera they had just witnessed.
As they settled in, Cindy, who had joined them, held up her newly acquired poster, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't wait to put this up," she declared, her voice a delighted trill. "I might go downstairs before I leave so I can find a spot for it in my office."
Just then, Max arrived, a tray laden with drinks balanced expertly in his hands. "It's my office tonight, Madam Cindy," he said, a playful grin on his face as he approached their table.
Fang looked up, a hint of surprise in his amber eyes. "Thank you for waiting on us for the past weeks," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I hope the tip I left doesn't make you complacent."
Max skillfully placed the drinks on the table, his eyebrow raised. "Uh, of course, Mr. Fang," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. "Anything good should, of course, be attributed to me."
Kev burst into laughter, a light, carefree sound that echoed through the booth. "Come on, Fang," he said, reaching for his drink. "Our waitress was Rebecca, but this," he raised his glass in a mock toast, "is Max, the housekeeping manager who has been such a great help to me."
Fang grabbed his glass of whiskey and took a deep sip, a contented sigh escaping his lips. He turned to Max and said, "Max, I've been hearing good things about you, and not just from my assistant here. Sit down for a bit." Max glanced at Cindy, who gave a subtle nod, and then took a seat, his usual playful demeanor tempered by a touch of surprise at Fang's direct address.
Fang took another sip and said, "Oh, that's good."
Cindy smiled. "How has the night been, Max? You've had a long day."
Max nodded, a hint of weariness in his eyes, but his posture remained attentive. "It's been going by fast," he replied. "I haven't even met with half of the night crew yet. You've got them trained so well that I've been up here helping bus tables."
Cindy smiled faintly. "I did notice all the tables around the dance floor were clear. You wouldn't be interested in watching the dancers, would you?" she asked, a playful lilt in her voice.
Max chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "Of course not, Madam Cindy."
Cindy covered her mouth as she gently laughed, her eyes twinkling.
Fang's gaze rested on Max, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Max," he said, his voice a low rumble, "hard work deserves a reward. Tell me, is there anything you want?"
Max straightened up, his posture immediately more formal. "Mr. Fang, that is not necessary," he said, his voice respectful.
Cindy patted Max on the arm gently. "It's alright, dear," she said, her voice a soothing melody. "If it's too much, he will just say no."
Max looked back at Fang, a flicker of contemplation in his eyes, and then leaned back in his chair, a touch of his usual easygoing nature returning. "I've heard a complaint from my workers," he began, his voice thoughtful. "It's consistent, from every position."
Fang growled, a low rumble in his chest. "Complaints? Why haven't I been notified?"
Max held up a hand, a calming gesture. "It is nothing that is said to me, sir," he clarified. "It is silly, a small thing."
"Staff complaints are not silly," Fang stated, his amber eyes narrowing slightly.
Max, not wanting Fang to get worked up, cut to the point. "Can the daytime housekeepers park up in customer parking during the day?" he asked, his tone straightforward. "They joke about it being empty during their shifts."
Fang finished off his drink and squeezed Kev, a low rumble of approval in his chest. "I am offering you something," he said, looking at Max with a curious glint in his eyes. "Wouldn't you rather use this opportunity to get something for yourself?"
"This is something for me, Mr. Fang," he replied. "But not just me, it's for my staff too. They will get closer parking, and I will get happy workers that don't need… encouraging." Max looked over at Cindy and grinned. "At least for a few months."
Cindy smiled back at Max, then looked at Fang, her expression expectant.
Fang nodded slowly, a thoughtful frown on his face. "It's a bit unconventional," he mused, "but I like that."
Max nodded, his own expression hopeful. "It's just a request, sir," he said. "I know we should run it by Gus, since it will be asking a lot of him to check all of the employees' cars during day shift."
Fang said, "It seems you've thought a lot about this, Max."
Kev said, "I'm sure the day cleaners have lots of time to think during the walk up to the club in the morning."
Max laughed and said, "Don't make it sound so serious."
Fang said, "Give me a little time to discuss this with Rex, and if he thinks it won't upset security, I'm happy to make it happen."
"You are very generous, Mr. Fang."
Cindy patted Max's arm and said, "This isn't a hard request. It's not like you asked for something crazy like a private office or," Cindy glanced past the dance floor to where Asmodeus was pounding away at the piano, "a pipe organ."
Max grinned and said, "Well, enough about me. Why don't we pick out a spot for that poster, and you can tell me all about the show, Madam Cindy."
Cindy smiled at Kev, her eyes still bright with the memory of the opera. "Thank you for being such a gentleman tonight, Mr. Kev," she said, her voice warm. Max gently offered his arm, and Cindy took it, beginning to recount the opera to him with animated gestures as they walked away from the VIP section, presumably to find a suitable place for her new poster.
Fang grinned and rubbed Kev's shoulder, his voice a low rumble. "At least it wasn't a total waste of time."
Kev nodded. "Yeah, Cindy looks so happy."
Fang coughed, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Yes, but also... Warlock was quite surprised to see us."
Kev remembered the name instantly and realized who that otter was, the one Fang had gone to speak with during intermission. "Any news about the Mafia?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Fang pulled Kev tight, his arm a comforting weight. "He was going to come by tomorrow, but we saved him a visit," Fang said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "We impressed the auditors."
Kev nodded. "Ophelia did seem to be impressed by you."
Fang pulled Kev even closer. "We will be hosting dinner in three nights. Some of their local leadership wants to formally welcome us."
Kev nodded. "That's good. We have an extra night to prepare then."
Fang shook his head in agreement. "But that is not for you to worry about. The hour grows late, my love. It is time for you to go to sleep."
Kev held Fang's arm that was draped over him. "Won't you walk me up?" he asked. "You still haven't told me what you thought of the show."
Fang's voice changed, holding a tone of regret. "I've got a lot to do. The dinner... I need to talk with Rex about parking, visit Perry, and I still haven't seen Horns since last night."
Kev looked down and said, "I understand." He squeezed Fang's arm. "One of these nights, I'm going to have to put my foot down like Cindy, though."
Fang smiled faintly. "You can certainly try, my love." He gestured at Talon. "Please see Kev up to his room."
Talon nodded and said, "Would you like me to return after?"
"You've done enough tonight."
Talon frowned, but remained silent.
Kev stood, his gaze lingering on Fang. "Don't work too hard tonight, Fang. I'll see you tomorrow." With a parting look, Kev turned and headed back up to his apartment, Talon falling into step beside him as they reached the top of the steps, the quiet of the second floor enveloped him.
Kev turned to Talon and said, "Sorry about Fang tonight."
"It's not your fault," he said, his voice a low rasp.
Kev sighed. "It kind of is." Talon was silent. Kev took a deep breath. "You see, Talon," he began, his voice hesitant, "I'm not really from around here." He glanced over at Talon, who was walking along, head forward, his expression unreadable. "I think Fang is extra protective of me because I might do something wrong by accident or, uh..." Kev trailed off, then added, "I don't have any ID or anything, so the city might be upset about that."
Kev walked in silence for a few steps, the weight of his unspoken truth pressing down on him. He'd tried to tell Talon, to unburden himself a little, but the words still felt like an admission of madness, a confession that he belonged in a padded room.
He unlocked his apartment and entered. Talon entered behind Kev and closed the door. Kev lit some candles and closed the windows, the soft glow and muted city sounds creating an intimate atmosphere. Talon sat on the couch, his posture less rigid than usual, and said, "I'm not from around here either."
Kev looked at Talon, surprised. "Really?"
Talon nodded, his gaze distant. "My family moved here last year. From the Avian continent." Kev remembered the book mentioning the four distinct continents. Talon continued, his voice a low rasp, "I didn't have much time to adjust before the accident. It's been kind of a blur since then."
Kev offered Talon a glass of water. Talon took it and said, "This past week has been the first time in months that I've felt I can breathe again." He downed the glass in one go and passed it back to Kev. "This place is so different than both the city and my old home. I guess everyone who starts working here feels a bit like a voyager."
Kev smiled faintly. "You can say that again."
Talon stretched out his wings slightly, then let them settle. "So," he asked, his sharp eyes meeting Kev's, "how was the second act?"
Kev chuckled, a hint of lingering disbelief in his voice. "You were watching? I didn't think opera would catch your attention."
Talon's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Come on, Kev, we were all watching. So tell me, was it good?"
Kev tried to recall the story of the opera, the dramatic wrestling moves still more vivid in his mind than the actual plot. Talon seemed genuinely moved, his usual stoicism softened by the experience. "I thought it was very bleak," Kev admitted, thinking of the stage littered with fallen actors.
Talon nodded slowly. "It's historical," he said, his voice a low rasp. "There was a bit about it in 'A Brief History of Dala'Bon'."
Kev's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, is that why you wanted to watch?" He paused, a playful smile touching his lips. "You really do seem to like that book."
Talon shrugged, a faint blush rising on his feathered cheeks. "There is no TV here," he stated simply.
Kev chuckled. "So, what would you watch if you had TV?"
Talon considered for a moment, his sharp eyes thoughtful. "History," he replied, his voice unwavering.
Kev shook his head, a smile on his face. "Well, this night is history," he said, a yawn escaping his lips. "I'm going to go to bed."
Talon nodded and stood, his movements graceful and precise.
"I'll see you in the morning at some point," Kev said, his voice already thick with sleep.
Talon paused at the door. "See you later," he replied, his voice a soft rasp. "Lock the door."
With that, Talon left, the soft click of the closing door echoing in the quiet apartment. Kev was alone once more, the events of the night swirling in his mind. He made his way to the bedroom, the promise of sleep a welcome respite from the whirlwind of emotions and experiences that had filled his day.
Kev, still chuckling at the thought of Talon's unwavering dedication to historical documentaries, changed out of his clothes. He carefully placed his silver watch on the dresser, its intricate face gleaming in the soft candlelight. The events of the evening, from the opera to Fang's possessive growls, played through his mind, a strange and captivating tapestry. He was asleep in minutes, his dreams a surreal landscape where Madam Cindy, in full operatic costume, was expertly executing a German suplex on a protesting Fang, all while maintaining perfect vocal control.