Happy one year anniversary of this story!

That night was punctuated with live music and a satisfying number of patrons. The Lackadaisy felt, more than it had in a long time, alive. And Mitzi was reassured in her decision to go again what Asa had demanded in those few hours. Mordecai was safely locked up in the storage closet. Freckle was occupied with getting drinks to the patrons, something that he seemed to be picking up quickly. Mitzi swore she had seen him attempt some flourish and fancy out of the corner of her eye. Viktor was keeping everything secure and locked down. and Rocky was, despite Zib's absence, keeping the music flowing and the mood up. It was almost like old times.

So it wasn't really a surprise that she got a call from Asa the next morning. Perhaps the biggest surprise was how early he called. Mitzi dragged herself to the phone and put the receiver to her ear, expecting nothing less than a rant from Asa after she completely ignored what he had said the day before.

"Mitzi," Asa said.

"Asa," Mitzi half-mumbled.

"How was last night?"

"Fine. Good. Tired now."

Asa quietly chuckled in a very fake way, clearly internally enraged. "Yes. Now, you remember what I told you at lunch?"

"That we'd go bankrupt or that we had to be afraid of you?"

"I told you not to open last night." Asa cut right to the point, done with games.

"And?"

"And, you did." He paused. "I am past the point of fun sarcastic flirting or whatever it is that you do. I—"

"And you haven't been doing the same thing? 'Flirting?'" She was mildly disgusted by the assumption that it was flirting, putting extra emphasis on the titular word.

"I'm done with it. I'm done. I've tried to guide you where you ought to go, and I've tried to persuade you. And now, I've threatened you multiple times, and you still disrespect me and put you and all of your cohorts in danger. In my way."

"In your way? You've been the one in our way! You were the one who monopolized all our bootleggin' sources! Now you're mad simply cause we're gettin' back what you took from us? You're pathetic."

"Ho, now you're a piece of work. You think that I'm pathetic? Take a look at yourself, sweetheart— you're working out of a moldy basement, using band members as gangsters, too proud of yourself to let go of a guy that you, yourself, said you had no need for? Too full of yourself to step back or stand down? Too ignorant to understand that you've made a really dumb mistake?! I ought to have you killed right goddamn now!"

"Slow down. Cool off. And shut your damn mouth, Asa. You need to understand that sometimes things are different than you think. Can't you see past that fat nose of yours? Cause it seems like, from where I'm sitting, you're gettin' worked up over things that aren't true."

"I don't even know why I called you, May. I should've known that the only thing you'd be able to offer up would be more disrespect. You know, you should consider yourself lucky, being alive right now. Best of luck." And with his wrath mutating into a surprisingly restrained disdain, he hung up.

Mitzi sat there for a minute, her heart rate quickened with anger and her mind racked with anxiety, and then she sat down the phone. She stood up, straightened herself out, dusted herself off, and walked out of her office, done with business for the time being. She would have to sort out what to do about that call before nighttime came.

A couple of floors farther down, with stakes much lower and feelings much calmer, Rocky and Mordecai were alone in the speakeasy. Freckle was with Ivy in the café, and Viktor was resting, closer still to recovery. And within that cool, quiet space, while Mordecai wasn't locked within a closet, he could nearly relax. Rocky was with him in the main area of the speakeasy, certainly confident enough in his trust of Mordecai so as to let him be, practically without Rocky's supervision, notwithstanding Mitzi's directions. Rocky was sitting upright on a leather couch, only recently purchased, and was facing Mordecai, who was sitting at a table, with the chair turned around towards Rocky.

"How many people would you say were there, then?" Mordecai inquired.

"Hmm, maybe twenty? Thirty? More? I don't know, I wasn't on stage the whole time. But it was good! Everyone's getting paid and Miss M. doesn't seem to be mad or anything, so," Rocky trailed off slightly.

"Really? So this place is still making a profit?" Mordecai gestured to the room entombing him.

"Apparently. More than it was before, definitely." Rocky leaned back against the couch, stretching some.

"Well, I'll admit: I'm a bit surprised."

"Why's that?" Rocky groaned, arching his back, still stretching.

"I didn't think that it had stood much of a chance after Atlas died. I suppose I might have been wrong." Mordecai thought back to his departure. His thoughts of joining the Marigolds, his arguing with Viktor, all of it.

"Maybe. But we'll have to wait to find that out, won't we?" Rocky smiled at Mordecai.

Rocky's lighthearted attitude served to bring Mordecai's attention, at least somewhat, away from his memories, and he replied simply, "I suppose so." Then, clearing his throat. "Might you be able to get me some water?"

"Yeah… but you're gonna have to come with me, okay?" Rocky said, knowing he'd have to go upstairs.

"Hm, alright." Mordecai stood up as Rocky rose from the couch. And the two headed for the garage; since the café was open, they'd have to take the long way around.

Ivy looked up to see Rocky as the door opened, with Mordecai behind him. Freckle turned and looked, too. Rocky came up to the counter and sat down, with Mordecai standing at his side, next to Freckle. As Freckle eyed Mordecai, Rocky smiled and said, "Just some water, Ivy." And after a beat. "Coffee too, actually."

"Both for you?" Ivy asked, dawdling into action.

Pointing to Mordecai with his thumb, "The water's for ol' Mordy."

Immediately, before Ivy could respond, Mordecai interjected with, "Don't call me that."

"Oh. Well, what about just 'Mord' then?" Rocky continued.

"No."

"Mo?"

"Certainly not."

"Just M?"

"What? No."

"Just silence? The sound of a slow breeze calls you by name?" Rocky teased.

Mordecai sighed, perhaps stating his own name, and Ivy came by and set down the glass of water in front of him. Ivy joined in, lingering at the counter for a moment, "Well, what about making it longer?"

"Oh! Mordecaiolas!" Rocky shouted.

"Wretched," Mordecai stated.

"Mordecaibert?"

"I'm done with this game."

"Mordecaixender?"

"Here's your coffee," Ivy said, setting a mug down in front of Rocky.

"Thank ya, Ivy," Rocky nodded, slurring his words together with a strange half-accent. And then the both were silent for a moment, nearly the first time since Rocky had first walked in, as the two drank their respective drinks.

"So, Freckle, I never got a chance to ask you— how was that lunch yesterday?" Rocky leaned to the side and asked past Mordecai.

"Uh," Freckle looked over, "it was kind of a lot."

"Yeah, I talked to him and Viktor about it— apparently there was a lot of screaming and arguing. Asa threatened us, and told Mitzi not to open last night," Ivy gossiped, leaning on the counter.

"Us? What, all of us?" Rocky wondered.

"Our whole, um, group," Ivy elaborated by means of euphemism.

"So you think he really means it? Is he gonna follow through with it, then?" Rocky questioned, directed more at Freckle.

"I don't know. Probably?" said Freckle.

"What do you think, Mordecai? You've worked with him for a while."

Ignoring the part of him that still pledged allegiance to the Marigolds, which urged him to not give away truthful, helpful information, and siding more with the part of him that still questioned his allegiance, he responded, "He means it. Asa's been extremely angry about what Mitzi's been doing for a while now. He'll probably send people over to try and ruin this place."

"Huh. I guess stopping that is what we'll be doing tonight, huh, Freckle?"

"Yeah, I guess," Freckle muttered.

And the four continued talking for a while, Rocky, Mordecai, and Freckle at the counter and Ivy behind it, occasionally doing things for the café customers. It was nice. Although, Freckle continued to eye Mordecai, yet still uncertain about how he felt about him. Eventually, the two finished their drinks and the group finished their conversations, and Mordecai and Rocky returned to the depths.

Later that night, Mitzi directed some of her, as Asa so disdainfully said earlier, cohorts, so as to keep things civil that night. Viktor had, however, been groaning and grunting after straining himself, and Mitzi was fairly sure he had reinjured himself. So, not wanting Viktor to reopen his wounds or anything like that, had neglected to ask him to stay around. So, instead, she would be relying solely on Freckle and Rocky. Freckle was good, but Rocky? He had a bad track record. But, she would have to make do with what she had.

Freckle was at the bar, seeing as he was pretty good at it, and when he was dressed nicely, he fit the part, too. He had a gun on him, essentially serving to protect the speakeasy if anyone from the Marigolds came through the café entrance. And Rocky? Well, Mitzi had given him a gun and ammo. She told him only to use it if absolutely necessary, and that it would be better for him to get his cousin instead of trying to shoot them. Mitzi was nervous, but Rocky took the gun and seemed alright. He didn't shoot himself while he walked towards and through the tunnels, so that was a good start. And as it were, Rocky let Mordecai out from the storage room and took him with him into the garage. Mitzi didn't notice.

And she was in the speakeasy, conversing with patrons. And although the band was even more short of people now, and although stakes were high, with the Marigolds having practically declared war, Mitzi felt assured that things would go well. Spirits were flowing, and so, as a result, so was money. And Asa wouldn't try anything. Probably.