The building was squished between a tailor's shop and a set of apartments. Reaching towards the clear sky, the narrow brick was well maintained, miniscule windows freshly cleaned and set in gleaming metal.

I was taken aback by the lack of an obvious door, the only sign being cracked panels of fresco; I scrunched my nose at the rather...graphic romance depicted. Must be the place.

"It's still standing," Julian sounded surprised, "I used to come here all the time, back in the day."

Hand in mine, the doctor led me to the back of the building, still chatting animatedly, "It was an irresistible spot. High ceilings, great ambience, little booths tucked away."

"It sounds lovely," I admitted.

He grinned down at me, stopping before a dilapidated wooden door, "And the underground, of course." He pushed the door open with ease, a long creak echoing through the alley, "You could lounge around for hours down here, just talking."

"Of course there's an underground." I shook my head, smiling.

We picked our way down a flight of skinny steps, the daylight gradually replaced by dimly lit lamps along the wall.

"And we, ahh, I've been meaning to say, we do-" Julian paused to duck under a rotted beam, turning to help me past the groaning wood. "We do need to talk." He finished lamely, looking down at our hands.

"So you keep saying." I remarked dryly, wondering how many times he'd said that particular phrase.

And each time, my stomach was rung out like a soggy cloth.

Eyeing him warily, I watched Julian plant his foot on the stone wall in order to yank the next door open. It was made of a thick, rusted iron, a strange sort of door for a tea shop.

Were we supposed to be here…? Knowing Julian, probably not.

Nonetheless, I followed.

The light inside the room was even weaker, barely illuminating the wide space. Fabrics in bold patterns were draped across every available surface, covering oddly shaped items and furniture. Barrels were stacked in the back corner, and ropes of all shapes and sizes tied - I jumped when the iron door slammed shut behind us.

Hand on my heart, I asked, "Where are we?"

My lips twitched in amusement when Julian 'subtly' peered around the next corner in a borderline ridiculous stance. Pulling back, he frowned, "Well, ah, this is all very unlike the way I remember it."

"Place must've gone under." I commented, moving a faded pink fabric to make my way towards him. "Such a shame," Julian sighed, causing dust on the nearest barrel to soar into the air, "They used to serve this smoky tea that I haven't been able to find since."

As we carefully moved through the wreckage of the old shop, I tried to discern a theme in the surrounding objects. A serenely smiling, hammered metal moon. Huge bolts of fabric, sagging over a high-backed chair, flashing spears, an open chest of tin bells and ragged feathers. Weird.

"Now it seems to be some kind of an...oddities...artifacts...antiques? Emporium." Julian called, stepping nimbly over a fallen shield, cracked with age. Bending down, I nudged the item, surprised by the lightness of the metal. If it even was made of metal to begin with.

"How embarrassing." He sighed, helping me into the next room, "It is still cozy, though."

Although there was more space to walk around, the space was just as cluttered by odds and ends. A towering, dusty mirror sat in the corner, settled beside what appeared to be a broken bed frame. I paused, frowning.

"Do you hear something?" I could've sworn I heard voices.

"Now, what do we have here?" Julian was clearly distracted, leaning over to scoop an object from the ground.

In his hands was a doctor's mask, undoubtedly similar to his. From the Plague.

Gloved hands fiddled with the black mask, turning it over to inspect each side. "It's not really a medical mask, is it?" He murmured, almost to himself.

It was similar, but not the same. Unlike the one he'd thrown into the river, this mask was smaller, streaks of white across the outside in a decorative manner. Even so, those red eyes...My gaze turned to Julian.

How things have changed since.

"We used to stuff the beak with herbs," Julian shot a quick smile at me, as if he'd nearly forgotten I was there, "With camphor and roses, you know, when we had them…" The smile vanished, "I think this one's just a statement piece."

"A bit soon, isn't it?" I commented, watching him stare into the glassy eyes of the mask. "Probably." He chuckled in agreement.

"Do you want to put it on?" I gestured towards the object, stepping closer. After a moment of shock, Julian grinned, "If you're suggesting that I miss the one I tossed to the eels, let me just say how much it pains me that you caught me doing that, but..." His fingers caressed the beak with a careful detachment, "I think I will."

Turning on his heel, the towering doctor used the cloudy mirror to fasten the mask on.

Part of me wanted to ask him why it bothered him, knowing that I saw him throw the mask away. The reminder of my little breakdown in Mazelinka's hut - crying against his chest - convinced me to stay quiet.

We'd both seen each other vulnerable, exposed. Tired and emotional. The garden played in my head, the faint sounds of water running and the beautiful glowing flowers…

"It doesn't bother me half as much in black." Julian's contemplative voice drew me from my thoughts, "And it certainly doesn't smell like any of the herbs we used." He adjusted the beak, voice slightly muffled, "Ha! Who would have thought that anyone would ever wear something like this for the aesthetic? I may not have contributed to the world of medicine, but I was making waves in the world of fashion."

I snorted, "Sure you did. Leather coats and bright red capes were all the rage."

Julian laughed, then turned to face me. Arms outstretched, he grinned, "So, how does it look?"

I raised a hand to cup my chin in mock thought, struggling to keep the smile from my lips.

The mask covered the upper half of his face, casting sharp shadows across his mouth and jaw. The beak curved downwards, feather-esque spikes coming from the top of the mask. Even with the creepy red glass eyes, he looked…"Decent." I allowed.

Stop staring at his lips, Cassandra.

My face heated in the stuffy air, so I stepped past him to study the mirror. Not that I cared, I just needed something else to look at.

A warm breath swept across the back of my neck and shoulders.

"Hmmm," I could feel Julian standing right behind me, a smirk in his tone, "You think it'd be hard to kiss with one of these?"

"Julian!" I nearly poked my eye on the edge of the beak at the speed at which I whipped my head around. How embarrassing. "What?" He drawled. I focused on my breathing when his hands lingered around my waist, sending a current through my body.

In a husky voice, he whispered in my ear, "Imagine kissing with two of them."

"You're a terrible flirt, you know that?" I couldn't help but laugh, hoping my fluster wasn't too obvious.

"Terrible, you say?" His fingers tightened against my hips.

Before I could react, I was spun around and pulled flush to his chest. One of his hands slid up to mine, the other rising to the small of my back.

"Julian, what -" I gasped. The world blurred as, without warning, I was dipped backwards, secure arms keeping me less than a breath apart.

"How's this for terrible?" Julian was grinning from ear to ear, eyes hidden by the mask that curved past my ear. "Ever danced the tango, Cassandra?" He continued, sounding much too pleased with himself.

His smile faltered when I responded with a smirk of my own, using our position to move even closer. Beneath my rib cage, a rapid pace was already set, heat pooling in the pit of my stomach. My hands gripped the lapels of his coat, though the last thing I was thinking about was falling.

"Would you be surprised if I said yes?" I responded, breathless.

Slowly, I raised my leg to brush against his side, silently thanking the Arcana that I hadn't worn a skirt. Julian immediately stiffened, lips parted. "Isn't this how it goes?" I pulled myself closer, tilting my head back, only to straighten slowly as my leg wrapped fully around his waist.

I smirked when I noticed his throat bob, going uncharacteristically quiet. What was it about Julian that we always ended up in these...types of situations?

I was having too much fun to be overly embarrassed, though I knew I would play this over and over in my mind's eye at a later date.

"What do you say, Julian? Want to dance?"

My hands found themselves around his neck, fingers burying themselves into the thick curls.

"I...Yes. I do."

I likely took far too much pleasure in the tone of his voice, the shrinking distance between us.

"Then k-" A loud wail came from somewhere behind us, cruelly interrupting the rising tension.

This was getting ridiculous.

Julian frowned, head turning towards the noise. I groaned quietly, reluctantly untangling myself.

Every time we got close to finally kissing...

There were more important things, I tried to remind myself, than a simple kiss...not that this moment was "simple" in any shape or form.

Even though we hadn't done anything besides stand very, very close to one another, I felt as if I'd run a marathon.

"It's coming from over there." He murmured softly, nodding towards a curtain I hadn't noticed before. Granted, I'd been slightly...preoccupied.

The wailing seemed to crescendo, growing louder and shriller.

Whether it was my disappointment or something else, the cry sounded too exaggerated to ring true or inspire genuine concern. To my surprise, Julian turned away from the sound to face me. His hand met my face, gently running his thumb across my cheek and lingering at the corner of my lips.

"Remind me later," He whispered, "that I owe you a dance."

"I'll hold you to it." I responded softly, smiling.

"Now," He cleared his throat. I tried not to be too disappointed when he spun around, voice rising in exaggerated excitement, "Let's go see what the commotion is about." He fixed the mask as if out of habit. I supposed it was.

Carefully, we picked our way through the maze of objects, the strangely fake wailing growing louder. A set of heavy curtains were parted, the noise and a thin beam of red light coming through. We exchanged a silent look, then moved to peer through the opening.

Beyond the curtain was a shredded bed under a tinted spotlight, the surrounding area too dark to properly make out. In the center laid a man, draped in scarlet robes and heaving in supposed anguish.

As he raised his head, I noticed the blonde wig and painted mask, a porcelain creation of streaked mascara and makeup.

"Wait in my room? On my birthday?" The actor cried, "What do you expect me to do all night in here? Clomp around in my hooves? Beg the busboy for table scraps? If I can't disgust anyone doing it, what's the point?"

Julian raised a hand to cover his laughter, "Oh my gods, that's fantastic. It sounds just like him."

So, this was meant to be...the Count? I returned the smile, glancing back towards the actor.

Everything I've heard about the Count was less than flattering. Even Nadia didn't seem overly fond of her ex-husband. But...how well had Julian known him?

To even be considered for his murder, he must've had access to the Count's room, though during a big party...that wouldn't be too difficult.

Even in death, the audience appeared to be loving the portrayal; the rafters were packed with laughing people, barely visible in the dim surrounding light. No love lost, especially in this part of town.

"I'm glad to see the arts are flourishing," Julian chuckled, "A renaissance seems to have begun while I've been away. But…"

He frowned at the stage, "if this is Lucio on his birthday night, then you don't suppose this is a show about the murde-Ah!" The audience burst into laughter as a sandbag dropped between us, sending a thick powder into the air. There was a loud whirl of rope, and Julian's cry of surprise grew fainter.

It felt like only a second or two had passed, but the next thing I knew, Julian was...gone?

Coughing, I attempted to wave away the powder that threatened to simultaneously blind and choke me. "Julian?" I tried to call, nearly sending myself into another coughing fit. This damned powder…

Once I recovered, my jaw dropped in shock.

While he had only just been standing beside me, Julian was now above the stage.

Hanging in the air with a rope around his ankle - it must've moved with the sandbag - the gangly doctor swung from side to side, arms flailing. Both the audience and the actor were equally stunned, judging by the sudden descent of silence.

"Julian!" I called, barely keeping myself from running onto the lit stage in order to...What? Stop and think, Cassandra. What can you do here?

Julian began thrashing like a worm on a hook, knocking something free from his boot. A shiny object fell into his waiting hand, and he curled upwards towards the rope. A knife. He must've moved it from his pocket after our conversation in the shop...either that, or he had multiple knives on his person, which was completely plausible.

With a grunt, Julian severed the rope, falling almost perfectly beside the actor splayed across the stage bed. Nice! I cheered silently at the quick maneuver, then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Everyone's attention was on the stage, of course.

"Doctor Devorak!" The actor playing the Count burst into action, loud voice echoing across the space, "Here to cure my boredom!" He fell across Julian's lap, a dramatic hand across his forehead.

The theater burst into noise again, shrieking laughter and applause ringing in my ears. Well played. Now...how would Julian react? Somehow, I already knew.

My suspicions were confirmed when he glanced in my direction, a slow smirk breaking through the shock. He was going to do what he did best.

Improvise.

With a bark of laughter, Julian rose to his knees on the mattress, easily looming over the 'Count'. "My poor, poor patient," His voice dropped to something deeper and supposedly menacing, "The clock strikes thirteen for you tonight." Grabbing the edge of his glove, he pulled it back and released the material, a loud snap coming from the movement. Hm...

The actor fell backwards, aghast. "I've come to end your suffering." Julian bellowed, sounding as if he was having far too much fun with the impromptu role.

Hand over his chest, the actor responded, "What are you going to do? Smother me with your thighs?"

I covered a burst of laughter at the comment, shoulders shaking with the effort. By the stars. Julian shot a smile in my direction, having apparently noticed my amused outburst.

Seemingly rejuvenated, the doctor-playing-doctor shook his head, curls falling into his face, "For the hundredth time, no."

The pair on stage flew into a ridiculous tussle, feathers flying into the air. I was barely able to breathe, hand wrapped around my waist as I laughed. I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard. Ow, ow, it hurt! My grin was broad and uncontrollable, an aching sort of pleasure.

After some mild hair-pulling, the fake Count reared backwards, drawing a wobbly wooden sword from behind the bed. "Give me a real fight, man to man! We'll see who takes the last gasp." He declared, the sword visibly shaking in his grip. Julian grinned, leaping from the bed with ease.

"If it's a fight you want, it's a-Oh." He paused when a stagehand in black scurried onto the stage, presenting Julian with another sword. The man darted back onto the other side, disappearing into the darkness.

I nearly jumped when somebody moved beside me; the woman in black, another stagehand presumably, shot me a strange look. Channeling my inner Julian, I grinned at her, jerking my thumb in the doctor's direction, "I'm here with him." She shrugged wordlessly, turning back to whatever task she'd been working on.

I can't believe that worked.

"En guarde!" I heard Julian call, and turned my attention back to the stage.

I don't recall ever going to the theater before, but this was fantastic.

The two men moved back and forth in front of the bed, swinging the wooden swords wildly.

Maybe it was because one of the actors was Julian. By the stars, he would make an incredible actor. Seems to enjoy it, too.

Judging by his expression, Julian was having the time of his life, mock fighting the actor. His aura was brighter, too, adrenaline and joy racing through the streaks of anxiety and darker shades. Carefully leaning against a wooden post, I watched the scene with a smile on my lips, a strange warmth in my chest.

"Not bad," Julian remarked, "I might just give you a chance." The sword from the blonde actor flew through the air, the man himself collapsing dramatically onto the bed. Julian placed a boot on his chest, sword aimed at his neck.

"A chance to speak your last words. Choose them carefully, Lucio."

In response, 'Lucio' held up his hands, stuttering, "Is it money you want, Doctor? Fine things? We're friends aren't we? I'm very generous, you know, and I've, I've always liked you best! What's mine is yours!" The audience laughed once more.

Beneath the mask, Julian scowled, "This may surprise you, but some of us don't kill for money."

He was really getting into this. My smile faded.

"Some of us kill to make up for not doing it sooner."

Swinging the sword in the vicinity of the actor's neck, the man playing the Count began to convulse. With a disturbingly convincing wet gurgle, 'Lucio' went limp, head lolling to the side. My stomach churned unpleasantly.

As I pushed myself off of the wooden post - nearly running into the stagehand from before - Julian lowered the wooden sword. Was it just me or did he look a little...green?

It was getting to be a little too real, especially after our sombering conversation just this morning.

"Oh, well...that was...easier than I thought it'd be." He glanced around the stage, sword falling to his side, "Now what? I can't just go unpunished."

Is that what he believes - Movement erupted beside me, and three women dressed in armor almost knocked me over in their haste. Julian tensed at the appearance of other people on the stage as one of them yelled, "Guards, hang him!" My stomach rolled once more, amusement gone.

When he find him, the doctor will die in the gallows.

"But not like this!" Julian dropped the sword with a clatter, spinning on his heel to run offstage. On the other side. Time to go, then. The crowd's cheering wasn't nearly as enjoyable as before, following me as I slipped out of the theater.

Once outside, my back hit the brick wall. My heart beat a rapid pattern against my chest to an almost painful degree, and I closed my eyes to focus on my breathing.

I needed to find Julian and - Said doctor emerged from the very door in which I'd escaped, no sign of the decorative mask. "Cassandra," He breathed, moving towards me, "There you are."

Running a hand through his hair, he laughed breathlessly, "What a trip. I think I'm still one foot in the meta realm." He looked a little disturbed, which was more than fair. I think I was, too. He shrugged after a moment, smiling, "Well, no one seems to think it was really me. Was the neighborhood always this skeptical?"

His eye met mine, smile faltering. "So, this wasn't what I had in mind." Despite myself, I chuckled, "That's a safe assumption."

I paused when he stepped closer, gloved hands gently taking mine, "Let me try this again." My heart nearly stuttered again at the expression he leveled towards me, grey eye practically burning with its intensity.

"Cassandra."

"Yes?" I wondered why I sounded so out of breath.

"I'd like to head over to the Rowdy Raven for a bite to eat. If you'd be so forgiving as to join me? My treat, of course." His gaze dropped to our hands, "And after that...a...a nice walk to the docks. How does that sound?"

My smile fell at the reminder. Right, that little "talk" he kept mentioning.

My stomach rumbled just as I opened my mouth to respond, sending a wave of heat across my cheeks. The timing. Julian chuckled.

"Okay, Julian. As long as you promise to tell me what's been on your mind later."

The auburn-haired doctor sobered, nodding slowly, "I promise."

As we began to walk out of the alley, hand in hand, I added, "Also, I'm paying for dinner. You already bought an entire fruit cart, today."

Julian only tossed his head back, laughing.

"I mean it!" My frown easily transformed into a smile at the sound of his laughter. "Not a chance." He responded, hand gently tightening around mine. When my heart flipped again, I wasn't sure if it was the nerves or something else entirely.