Locke tried not to stiffen or flinch away when one of the paying costumers grabbed him from behind, but it really was hard. All his natural instincts screamed for him to fight or flee, but that just wasn't an option. Not if he wanted to keep his job in the bar, anyway.
Locke heaved a sigh when he heard the bell announce a newcomer. Great, the boss was going to want him to make a pass at them, whoever they were. It was, after all, his primary function.
Plastering a fake smile on his lips, Locke turned to greet the new customer and froze. 'Shit!' He thought frantically, hoping against hope that Edgar hadn't recognised him yet. Locke considered going and finding something else to do so that he looked busy, but one look at the scowl on the owner's face and that idea was trashed. Looks like there was nothing for it but to take his chances.
There was still a possibility that this wouldn't turn into a catastrophe, though. Locke's silvery brown hair had grown to shoulder length, and the tight clothing he wore was far different from his usual outfit. He was even wearing a little makeup, surprisingly enough. However, he had flatly drawn the line at a dress. Actors wore makeup, but the only people who wore dresses were girls and weirdos, and if the patrons wanted to see a girl, then they were in the wrong place. As for his voice? Locke could deal with that. After all, he WAS a master of disguise.
Seemingly confidently, Locke smirked, swaggering slightly towards his long time friend. If it were anyone else, this would be a piece of cake. He'd just pretend it wasn't someone he knew and get on with it. Not that it would work, of course. Edgar didn't approve of whores, and even if he did, Locke was fairly sure he didn't go for men. It was worth a try, though. No sense in getting fired over it, after all. He wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of making moves on his former best friend, but all he had to do was greet him. It wasn't like anything was going to happen.
"Why, hello stranger. Want some company?" Edgar's head snapped up at the sound of the unknown voice. Narrowing his eyes, he gave Locke a look that made the thief want to pray fervently that he wasn't found out. "Excuse me?"
"I said," Locke murmured, "would you like some company" Not waiting for an answer, he sat down on Edgar's lap, straddling his hips. As Locke reached out toward Edgar's face, though, he found his wrists caught in an iron hard grip. Serious blue eyes bore into him, making him feel exceedingly uncomfortable.
"Not that you aren't cute, but first," Edgar stated softly, "tell me your name. You seem to remind me of someone."
Cute? Was Edgar drunk? Because there could be no other explanation for why he was apparently coming on to a male. If Locke had the freedom to respond to that, Edgar would get his arse kicked from there to the moon. But this wasn't looking good. Not only had Edgar asked his name, he was beginning to recognise Locke. While he was trying to come up with a plausible response to this, however, fate was taken out of his hands.
"Oi! Cole! When you're not busy, could you come up here and help out at the bar? We're short staffed tonight, Leslie went home sick."
Locke closed his eyes, wishing he could get completely smashed right then and there. Wasn't going to happen, unfortunately.
'Oh, shit. That's my cover blown well and truly. I am SO screwed.'
Locke opened his eyes slowly, cringing slightly, to find Edgar staring at him with wide eyes.
"Locke?"
Locke bit his lip. This was going to be a tough one to explain. "Um."
Edgar searched Locke's eyes desperately, trying to find an answer of some sort. "Locke, what are you DOING here?"
Locke sighed wearily and tried half-heartedly extricate his wrists.
"What does it look like, Edgar? I'm sorry, but I've got to make a living somehow. Since the treasure hunting trade isn't doing so well, I have to do SOMETHING."
Edgar's expression was vaguely wounded. "Why didn't you come to me, Locke? You know I would help you! Besides, we all miss you. None of us knew where you disappeared to, you didn't even say goodbye. You worried us!"
Locke's eyes flashed angrily, and he struggled to shake off Edgar's hold again. "I don't want your charity, Edgar. Now let me go, I have a job to do!"
If anything, the pressure from Edgar's hands merely increased. "Please, Locke, don't do this! Why sell yourself like this? Why are you lowering yourself this way?"
Locke glared at Edgar, a frantic edge to his movement. "Maybe I LIKE being a whore, ever thought of that?"
Edgar took a deep breath. "Don't you give me that crap, Locke. I know you. You have way too much stubborn pride and dignity for that. So what on earth has driven you to this level? I believe you when you say you like being a thief-"
"Treasure hunter." Locke muttered irately.
"-Fine, treasure hunter. That's just an innate part of your personality. But this just isn't you!" Edgar pleaded.
Locke watched him coldly. "Are you done lecturing me? If so, will you please let me go so I can return to my job now? Unless, of course, you're willing to pay for my services."
"Locke, I don't want you to be my whore! I don't want you to be ANYONE'S whore!" Edgar yelled. By this time, their argument had turned into something of a spectator sport. Bets were being placed on the origins of the fight. Needless to say, there was a rather large amount of money on the 'jilted lover' count.
Locke blinked back what looked suspiciously like tears. "Oh, really?" he hissed, grinding his hips into Edgar.
Edgar gave a startled gasp, loosening his grip involuntarily. Locke took the chance to yank himself free and was about to storm off when Edgar stood up and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around.
"Locke, why are you being so damn stubborn?"
Locke clenched his fists and tried to break away again, refusing to answer or even meet Edgar's eyes. His patience having finally worn thin, Edgar growled and grabbed Locke round the waist. Seeing what was about to happen, Locke yelped and attempted futilely to escape.
"Oh, no, Edgar, you can't be serious, don't you DARE- ah!" Despite his furious protestations, Locke was lifted easily and tossed over Edgar's shoulder, whence he immediately began an assault of arms, legs and vocal cords, all to no avail.
"Put me down, you moron! Let me go, let me go, let me GO! Quit it! Edgar, leave me alone, dammit!" Locke's screams were becoming steadily more frantic and hysterical as Edgar walked toward the door.
Not stopping, Edgar rolled his eyes. "For goodness sake, Locke, give it a rest! You've gotten soft, it seems, cause the only thing you're doing is wearing yourself out. Now will you PLEASE calm down and stop making a scene? I'm just taking you to the damn palace! Gods, anyone would think I was going to chuck you in the dungeons or something, the way you're carrying on."
Locke took a deep breath and began to shriek again. "Put me DOWN, you stupid lousy king!"
As one, the occupants of the bar blinked at the unexpected revelation. It would have been funny in any other situation. Locke's boss had been considering calling the guards, but that seemed rather pointless now. They probably wouldn't want to arrest a king and the suchlike. It was bad for foreign relations. Besides, the man reasoned as Locke's loud wails faded into the distance- it had provided the customers with such excellent entertainment!