bakerstreet | hello hello.

1. "Nothing's THAT important, you know."
2. "Just give me my cut of the money and I'll be out of here."
3. "I think the room is bugged."
4. "Are you taking his side against me?"
5. "This isn't just about you. It's about what's best for all of us."

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It's my job.

[ Though it's not clear whether he disagrees. Sometimes people just teach you to think things are that important. ]

What's wrong?

Well, your job is crummy.

[ Dated vernacular aside, this is probably the most serious he's ever seen her about something. ]

[ I'm not in it for the glamor, is something he wisely keeps to himself, and shakes his head like it's helpless. He understands the point of view; sometimes that thought (with worse synonyms for 'crummy') even crosses his mind. Just not tonight. ]

I'll be back in a couple of hours. Look — you can stay here, [ Meaning his apartment, ] I really don't mind. You don't have to wait up if you don't want to. We'll do something in the morning?

[ There's not a lot of real glamour in any job, even music. At least not if you're doing it right. The problem as it stands is -- Birdie can't be here in the morning, and wherever he's heading to work might be cutting it too close for comfort to her other nighttime friends.

She looks up at him from her spot on his couch with an expression that's only just too calculating to be petulant, but is very close. ] How about you take me with you.

[ A pause. He looks like he couldn't come up with an answer if he wanted to, so she gets a question instead — ]

To a crime scene?

I'm a musician. Half the places I've played have been crime scenes at one point or another.

[ This is probably not a good point. ]

Won't wander around and I won't touch anything. [ Said with her hands up already. Look at how good she'll be at not touching anything. ]

That—

[ It's not, but he's also wise enough to not illustrate why. After a pause, ]

The best I can do is let you stay in the car, unless you want to hang out with the people passing by. [ Or, god forbid, reporters that rush in to get a glimpse. ] Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable staying here?

[ He has a TV and everything! Without cable. Because he is who he is. ]

That's fine.

[ Her shift from nearly sullen to smiling is quick, and a little put-on, but once it's there she doesn't let it slip. And, as if she already knows he's got reporters on the brain -- ] Maybe I can distract the lookie-loos for you, be a team player.

A lot better than sitting around waiting.

[ He's seen that shift in the face of many siblings, and he knew then that they were fake. The initial rejection subsides, though. Birdie has shown him nothing but a genuine show of emotion, and that is — surprisingly disarming. ]

You're sure?

[ His colleagues won't be thrilled about it. Or they might be too stunned that Norman is showing up with a friend to question it. Fifty-fifty. ]

[ Disingenuousness isn't something he's seen much from her at all, beyond the pretending to be a living person that eats and drinks. Besides, it's strangely much easier to lie around real feelings than faked ones, so he's seen those stay consistent. ]

Very sure.

[ She punctuates that by getting up and pecking him on the cheek. In the eternal game of Truth or Lie, the affection is true, even if there's something persistent at the edges. Could, at least, be easily read as concern. ]

Do you want me to drive? I can be like your chauffeur.

[ The peck is welcome, taken as if it's natural, even, to the casual relationship between him and the musician who visits the city every now and then. There's no one else like her in his life; he'd dare to say that there's never been. ]

No, no — I'm not making you do that.

[ The soft wave of a hand, then he walks to the chair to pick up his jacket.

Then he remembers: the Order is watching him. They know about his past, they know about his acquaintances, the strange things his body is capable of when no one is around. He doesn't want to think about them using her as leverage, even if they claim to be observers. ]

It's better if you stay out of sight, Birdie.

[ That sounds important. ]

What? I like driving.

[ Another truth, light and casual as the affection before it. His own change in tone is something Birdie very nearly misses. Her mind is always at least a little strained with music, but the added worries about a crime scene don't help.

There are a lot of Orders at night, some she knows and some she doesn't. Some are definitely much worse than other, especially to her continued existence. Even the idea of being used as leverage would be... Complicated. It's the stay out of sight that breaks through the rest and grabs her attention. Being hidden isn't as foreign a sentiment as one might think, considering how much time she spends on stage. ]

Okay. [ Downshifted, but smiling and keeping it light, a fun balancing act. ] But I'm not getting in your trunk.

You'll owe me a ride some other time, then.

[ It's a balancing act for him, too, trying not to emphasize the serious parts and not letting go of the lighter mood they had moments before he got the phone call from work. Impromptu calls are just part of the job, and one of the many reasons why having a consistent, committed relationship with Norman hasn't ever worked out. What he and Birdie have is a perfect balance, as far as he's concerned. ]

Oh, [ He arches his brows, ] Got it. Glad you let me know beforehand.

[ Ha, ha. ]

Shall we?

I can owe you more than that, as long as it isn't in a trunk.

[ Said with a laugh. Balancing like this is, at least for her, very old hat after all these years. With kine, the living and breathing and oblivious, the balance is about the nuance of her fundamentals. Then even with kindred there's another set of politics and interests to navigate like a singing tightrope walker. With Norman it is, thankfully, very easy, even though it's very tempting to let it slip from time to time. ]

We shall. [ And then, starts in singing under her breath. ] To go where you wanna go, do what you wanna do, with whoever you wanna do it with...

[ The singing easily earns a smile, watching her walk past him before fondly shaking his head. With keys in hand, he digs through Birdie's carefully curated music catalog in his head, until he produces a tentative answer— ]

The Mamas and the Papas?

[ Seeing the smile is good, but hearing him give the right answer is something else. Even with the cloud of a crime scene looming ahead of them, even with the balancing act, her expression is genuine delight. ]

You've been studying!

hello hello.

Birdie Lewis | OC | Vampire: The Masquerade | OTA

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