Thanks to dwood15 for betareading, and to the Cauldron discord for assisting in research. In particular, thanks to Reyemile for assisting with research and writing of the first scene and mixed drinks in general.
Interlude 2b: Alex
Alex sat alone at the bar, at least one empty stool between him and the next person to either side. Around him, the Palanquin was practically screaming with activity. The music set the whole space rumbling, pounding with frantic energy, the bass making Alex's glass rattle.
He hated it, but he needed the distraction right now, and there was nothing like loud music to shut down bussing thoughts.
When he—well, she, she'd been in costume then—had come to en route to the Undersiders' lair, Tattletale had immediately called a halt.
"Can you walk?" she'd asked.
Alex had responded with an affirmative.
"Then start," Tattletale had ordered. "You're going to have to find your own way back to Coil."
So Circus had done just that. Her head had hurt—hell, it still hurt, even hours later—but she hadn't been unsteady or dizzy, so she'd figured she'd be fine.
Coil hadn't been at his base when she'd arrived. He'd come later, taken one look at her, and called her into his office.
It was there that she'd learned just how badly she'd fucked up.
"You are aware that I have informants in the PRT?" Coil had asked.
"Yes, sir," she'd replied.
"Let me tell you what those informants told me," he'd said grimly. "The girl in armor, Annatar, whom you struck with a sledgehammer directly to the head? She's now in their medical facilities for a possibly crippling concussion."
Circus' jaw had dropped open. "What?" she'd stammered. "But… she was a brute! She took a hammer to the side and got right back up!"
"Her armor is tinkertech," Coil had said flatly. "It defended her from the blow to her side, at least for the most part, but her head was not protected except by the helmet, which you struck hard enough to bring down a wall."
Circus had fallen into a chair at that point. "Oh, God," she'd said. "I didn't mean to…"
"I know," Coil had confirmed. "Don't worry; with luck, Annatar will make a full recovery and this will all blow over. If all else fails, I'll help you relocate and rebrand, as thanks for your assistance today."
His other operation must have gone off without a hitch, Alex thought, considering the drinks menu above the bar.
He flagged down the bartender—a woman with long black hair done up in a ponytail, with a white dress shirt and rolled sleeves.
"Old Fashioned, please," he said.
"Sure. You got a favorite bourbon?"
"The Pappy 20." It was, far and away, the most expensive drink on the menu.
The woman looked at him oddly. "…In a mixer? You sure? Seems like a waste."
"My money. I'll waste it how I want. Right now, I want Pappy 20 in an Old Fashioned."
The woman shrugged. "You got it. Gonna have to ask for the cash up front, though."
Alex pulled out his wallet, counted out $200, and handed it to the woman.
She slipped it into her register and set about making the drink. "I'm not going to ask where the money came from," she said casually. "Just going to ask: is it dirty enough that I need to worry about having it?"
"No," said Alex firmly. "Won't bring you any trouble. Got my word on that." For whatever that's worth.
"I'll trust you," said the woman. She began mixing the drink, pouring a middling amount of sugar into the glass and then fishing under the bar for bitters and fruit. "Not often I have someone spend that kind of money on anything, though. Something go wrong?"
Alex snorted. "The old 'sympathetic bartender' routine?"
"Not my fault if it works." She gave him a wink as she began to muddle the mixture in the bottom of his glass.
He sighed. "Did something I regret," he admitted. "But you figured that much out already, I'm sure."
"Not hard," said the woman. She carefully removed the orange rind from his drink and poured a generous helping of very expensive liquor.
"Thanks."
"Hey, like you said, your money. Hope it's worth it."
He puffed out a breath of air in an imitation of amusement. "Probably not," he said. "But hey. Never had a mixer this expensive before. It's novel."
"Novelty's worth something," the bartender allowed.
He considered her. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Melanie," she said. "Yours?"
"Alex."
"Nice to meet you. Feel free to spend hundreds at my bar anytime."
Alex chuckled. "I just might."
"Boss?" the bouncer came up behind him. The bartender looked up.
"Someone here to see you," he said shortly, glancing at Alex. "Said to tell you, uh, that she wasn't blinking."
Melanie frowned. "What'd she look like?"
"Little blond girl. Maybe eighteen, if that?"
"Tell me you're joking, Carl."
"Sorry, Boss."
"Fuck," said Melanie dryly. "Okay. Bad timing, but this is definitely important. Okay, Carl, I need you to send her up—with George, don't let her go wandering alone. But take about a minute before you do, all right? Stay in here for about a minute, then go out and send her up. Got it?"
"Yeah, got it."
"Good." Melanie gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, duty calls," she said, slipping a hand into her pocket, pulling out a phone.
"No problem," he said.
She dialed a number and put the receiver to her ear. "Sarah? Melanie. I need you to cover the bar for me. Get down here quickly. Good. Thanks."
Hanging up, she glanced at him. "Going to have to leave the bar unattended," she said. "Don't get any ideas about the Pappy, all right?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Nice. Sorry to leave you hanging."
She strode out from behind the bar and headed upstairs.
Alex sighed, drained the rest of his drink, and left the bar himself. He headed for the bathroom and, after making sure he wasn't being watched, slipped into the ladies' room.
He entered a stall and activated his power. His navy-blue button-down and grey slacks disappeared, as did the bindings for his breasts and the sock in his underwear. Another activation, and she was in an unassuming black skirt and light blue blouse.
She hated going out as a civilian woman, but it would make the rest of this easier.
She slipped back out of the bathroom and leaned against a wall, idly tapping her foot to the rhythm of the bass as it thrummed through her being.
"Hey there sweetheart," said a guy as he slipped off the dance floor and took up a spot on the wall beside her. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
Alex actually laughed. "That line ever actually work for you?" she asked.
He wasn't half bad-looking, honestly. Boyish blue eyes looked out from between a head of short blond hair and a carefully-trimmed beard. He wore a great deal of blue; a blue sport-coat over jeans.
The image was ruined, here in Brockton Bay, by the knowledge that handsome, wealthy, white Anglo-Saxon men were almost as likely to be Neo-Nazis as anything else.
"You might be surprised," he said lightly. "It's an oldie, but a goodie. Question stands, though. You're looking awfully lonely, here."
"Appearances can be deceiving," she said.
"They can. Are they? You still shopping, or have you already picked who you're going home with tonight?"
She gave the guy a dry glance. "You and I," she said dryly, "are looking for very different things tonight. Just move on; you'll have more time to try with girls who are actually up for it."
He sighed. "So quick to judge."
"I've been hit on before," she said coolly. "You weren't the worst, and I might've entertained you if I were in the mood. I'm not. Give it up, buddy."
"Fair enough," he said, moving away. Finally. There were a few reasons she went male as a civilian and female in costume.
And there was the bouncer, coming through the door now, a familiar blonde girl following behind. She was wearing a green dress which hugged her curves nicely and left her shoulders bare. She was a little overdressed for the Palanquin, but then, she wasn't here for the club.
Alex noticed that she had freckles on her face. She hadn't seen those before.
No, she was here for protection.
Alex pushed off the wall and casually, keeping her distance, followed the girl and the bouncer until he'd led her to a stairwell. Then the girl stopped the guy and pointed back at her.
Alex waved and approached.
"Hello," said the girl in green.
"Hey," said the woman in blue.
"You two know each other?" the bouncer asked.
"Oh, yes," said the girl in green, an odd smile on her face. "Co-workers, you could say. A shared employer."
"Can you let her know I'd like a word too?" Alex asked the girl in green.
"Sure," she replied. "I'm sure she'll be happy to accommodate."
After that, the girl in green was led upstairs. Alex settled against the wall again to wait.
After a few minutes, George the bouncer came back down. "Boss says to come up," he said.
Alex followed him up the stairs and into a sort of VIP room. The music was muted here by the separation, although it was still loud. Booths lined the walls, and in one, a few girls were lying slumped around a boy, about seventeen, who seemed quite happy to be surrounded by him.
His skin was orange.
Alex followed the bouncer down the hall and into the office of the club's proprietor.
Tattletale smiled up at her as she entered, those green eyes sparking with mischief. "Nice of you to join us," she said.
Alex didn't smile back. Instead, she looked at Faultline, whose mask was now firmly in place. When George, after a gesture from the mercenary, closed the door, Alex spoke. "Hello again, Melanie," he said.
Faultline nodded. "Alex," she said. "Or do you prefer Circus?"
"Circus in costume," she said. "Alex in civvies."
"Even when you're slumming it with us girls?" Tattletale asked lightly.
"Even then," said Alex.
"So," said Faultline. "Tattletale, I hope you don't mind if I deal with this first, but Alex. That 'thing you regret doing?' Might that be almost braining a fucking Ward earlier today?"
Alex twitched. "I thought she was a brute," she said.
"She is," Tattletale said. "But only because of the armor."
"I got that, thanks."
"So why are you here?"
"Almost killing someone has a way of making you rethink your life, yeah?" Tattletale offered.
Alex nodded. "No matter how bad what I did today was," she said evenly, "what Coil did was worse. It… put things in perspective."
"Yeah," said Tattletale. "For me, it was the fact that, without Grue or Regent, I'm more useful to him as a basement thinker than in the field. I really don't want to be holed up in that creep's basement, if that's all the same to everyone."
"Back up," said Faultline. "Alex. What did Coil do?"
"The bank job was a distraction," said Alex. "Coil knew the Protectorate would be out of the Bay today, so he hired us and the Undersiders to get the Wards busy on a high-profile crime. Meanwhile, his guys kidnapped a middle-school girl from her campus."
"You're kidding."
"No," Tattletale confirmed, looking slightly sick. "Holy shit, she's a thinker, isn't she?"
"A precog," Alex said. "He's going to keep her locked in his basement, drugged to the gills, and feeding him predictions."
"And that's what he'd have done to me."
"If he felt the Undersiders weren't useful anymore… yeah, probably."
"Fuck," said Faultline. "Look, Tattletale, I'm a mercenary—"
"You're a bleeding heart and you know it," Tattletale snapped. "Look, Faultline, I don't much like you, but you're my best shot at freedom. I'm not going to the Wards, it's not safe enough.. Every other group in the city is either too horrible to consider or in Coil's pocket. If you don't help me, you're consigning me to Coil's fucking basement."
Faultline gritted her teeth. "And you, Alex?" she asked. "What do you want out of this?"
"Out," said Alex simply. "There's not much I won't do, but killing people's one of them. Another is keeping a little girl drugged out of her mind. You take me, I'll help you on any job you name that isn't one of those things or worse."
"We don't do worse," said Faultline flatly. "So… fuck. Fine. But we need to plan. Coil's never been as minor as the heroes like to think he is, and if he has a precog now I don't like our chances."
"Don't worry, Faultline," said Tattletale smugly. "Planning's my specialty. Since we all know each other's names now… I'm Lisa. Lisa Wilbourn."
"Melanie Fitts."
"Alex Farrell."
Lisa laughed aloud. "Don't you love how we're all using assumed names?" she asked.
Melanie glared at her, then turned to Alex. "Lisa's useless without information," she said. "So talk to us, Alex. What do we have on Coil?"
And Alex began to tattle.