In the midst of a desert, there is an oasis. In the land of born-again Los Angeles that was Papa Midnite's. The holdouts in the industry who hadn't converted, and the demon half-breeds still came to enjoy the darkness and let their tails down. Business was brisk again this evening, although there were no outward signs of it. To be caught dead in a business of ill repute now could completely kill your career if you were thought to be one of the born-again.
Funny how things change, yet don't really.
Constantine moved down the sidewalk towards the club's front doors, receiving more smiles then he'd given out in a lifetime. Everyone was friendly to everyone. 'Love thy neighbor!' was being practiced and not just preached. It pretty much gave John the creeps. He missed the days when no one in LA gave a shit.
He had just opened the door when three figures ran out. A blonde girl, young looking, dressed in a Hot Topic 'goth in a box' getup. A boy about the same age, hair freshly made black with spray-in dye, also dressed in black. A third girl, older. Something hit his psychic feelers. There was something to this one. He paused as the trio hurried onto the sidewalk, got as good a look at her as he could. Her hair was long, shockingly bright mandarin orange. She too was dressed in black but it became her, suited her like kid gloves.
Just as John took the last step inside, the girl turned, her eyes meeting his.
Her eyes were pitch black. He blinked, startled. They did not glow like a half-breed's. They were flat, lifeless black. Immediately he cracked his shields, seeking her life force, to find out what she was. Their eye contact not broken, it felt almost as if time stopped and John and the girl were the only ones left on the street, even though traffic and people flowed by them like a river.
Constantine reached out and felt a ping against his mental touch. She was human. Not demon, not angel. Certainly not a half-breed...
Please. Don't.
John recoiled as their eye contact was broken and the girl's friends grabbed her hands, dragging her on and getting lost in the shuffle. The plate glass door swung shut in John's face as he stared after her. She'd spoken in his mind. She'd felt him probe her mind and spoken to him. The touch of her mind lingered in his, like a warm caress. Telepathic. She was a telepath.
The main club upstairs was pretty empty except a few Japanese businessmen who crowed around the bar. The El Carmen wasn't the hot spot it had once been, but it was only a front anyway. John moved swiftly across the empty dance floor towards his destination.
He started down the steps. Why did this bother him? All kinds, God and Satan knew, came to Papa Midnite's. She was certainly one of the least to worry about. He tried shoving the image of her face from his mind, but it wouldn't leave.
"Excuse me." The new bouncer. A huge Chicano with a tattoo of a python wrapped his left arm, an apple in its jaws. He was holding up an over-sized playing card, the image of leaping dolphins on the side that faced Constantine.
"You know, I knocked out the last guy who held your job. One punch." John said, casually. No dice. The guy still held the card up. "Was worth a try." John focused on the card and let his inner eye open. "A duck with an umbrella."
The Chicano bouncer placed the card back on the table, face up revealing the duck holding a paper umbrella, and reached to unlock the velvet rope. John ushered past and into the belly of the back room. His eyes adjusted to the dim mood lighting. A lot more empty tables on what would have been a crowded Friday night not two months ago. He wondered if this was putting Midnite in a bad mood. He'd find out soon enough. Reaching the back wall he stood in front of the seamless door and waited, his presence made known psychically. There was a very long moment before the door slowly cracked open.
"What now, John?" Midnite sat at his desk, writing something on a paper. "Haven't you caused enough trouble lately?"
"I did save the world, you know." Constantine stood at the edge of the desk, the brass orrery just off to the left of him. It looked balanced, but John never could really tell. It wasn't like Midnite let him get a decent or long enough look. "Still waiting for my parade. Commendation from the President. My statue."
"What now, John." Midnite repeated, an edge in his tone.
"Heaven has charged me with a mission. I'm still getting over the amusement." John reached in his top inner pocket, fingers seeking the familiar cardboard box. Instead they found the plastic sheet of Chicklets. Damn. Was that ever going to go away?
"What does Heaven want?" Midnite did not look up as he placed the signed papers into a leather folder and handed it off to a waiting minion. "Not that I really care to be asking, after the last incident."
"To push Andrew over the edge and fix the scales." He popped a Chicklet free of the foil. Midnite looked down at the orrery.
"This 'problem' isn't showing up."
"Well, not just yet." Constantine held the gum in his finger pads. It just didn't have the familiar feel like a cigarette. "They're becoming unbalanced, and I just sort of need to tip them over the edge. Help things along as it were, then fix them."
"You know I'm neutral. Why are you bothering me?" Midnite folded his long ebony fingers on the desktop, looking up at John with dark eyes.
John thought. This wasn't exactly a normal question to pop on anyone. "Let's just say, hypothetically, since we know the half-breeds are wearing a human suit..."
"Spit it out, Constantine."
"All the equipment is there? Just like for humans, the same for a Cherub in a human suit?"
Midnite grinned, his teeth ivory. "What, you have an eye for the angel?"
"Fuck no!"
"Then why are we talking about the sexual attributes of angels and demons?"
"I figured I could use a Commandment, one of God's laws, and get Andrew to break it. But you know, out of all of them, I could only figure on adultery being the easiest to break. But it occurred to me that there might be complications with that if angels were anatomically impaired..."
"They aren't."
"You know, like a Ken doll or some... they aren't?" Constantine stopped. The gears turned. "I'm not going to ask why you know that answer." Midnite only continued his leering grin. "Okay that answers that."
"You have a plan?" Midnite rose, pushing the chair in. "Or are you going in blind?"
"Come on Midnite, you know me."
"Blind it is."
