For nearly a week after Roman's memo, much of Chaldea's staff was stressed. Though a sizeable chunk of servants did what they could to ease the atmosphere, the staff were only human. With the threat of a possible attack from Solomon looming over their heads, they felt vulnerable for the first time since the days after the Fuyuki Incident. Thankfully, many were reassured by the genuine efforts, and their anxiety was steadily calmed.

If there was anywhere they could feel safe, it was among a garrison of over a hundred servants ready to protect them.

Marie's elegant salon once more held its prized tranquility with the absence of the stressed atmosphere. Many had flocked to the salon and Club Cove to drink their fears way, but those days had passed. Now it was quiet and calm, allowing the usual groups to relax in missed peace. The two avengers sat on a couch by the large windows quietly talking while the knitting group held their usual lunch at a distant set of ottomans. Mozart and Marie stood by the piano arranging tonight's ensemble, all while the French assassin enjoyed the peace from his own duty station.

One employee entered as opposed to the dozens before, marking the beginning of his lunchtime tasks. Thankfully, from what Sanson could tell, he didn't come to drown his fears by burning his daily alcohol allowance. He merely sat down on a stool as the lone servant cleaned glasses behind the bar with a relaxed expression. Dressed perfectly in one of his identical salon uniforms, Sanson nodded to the dark-haired, lunchtime frequenter.

He quietly reached to fill a glass, but the employee merely smiled and shook his head. "Thanks for indulging me with the drinks all this time, Sanson."

The assassin nodded politely to the employee and returned to cleaning glasses. "I take it you're feeling better then?"

"Much… I just feel terrible I was letting out all my fears when so many servants are among us."

"Think nothing of it. You're human, and I'm good at listening," Sanson reassured with a small smile. The employee nodded back graciously as he eyed one of the drinks on the beautiful shelves behind the assassin. Sanson let out a quiet chuckle, noting he was looking somewhere besides his usual pick. "Ah… but yet you're thinking of a celebratory drink, unless your eyes deceive me."

The employee smiled. "…Sure. That doesn't sound too bad."

"I will indulge you once more then," Sanson stated as he placed the white dish rag down onto the counter.

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Fragment 49: Social Menagerie

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Lunch had come and gone without many visitors.

Sanson leaned against the bar and tapped his pen gently against the side of a clipboard. A few more numbers were jotted down before he returned his gaze to the stocked shelves, using his keen perception to note the amount in each bottle. It was routine at this point, since it was his daily task. His medical background made him a great choice as a first responder, but it was only a side task compared to his primary job of being a capable bartender.

Since his day and age, not much had changed on the perceived role of the bartender, but this was not a true representation of the modern era. Being one in Chaldea was vastly different from what he's been told by many employees. In some countries, their attitude towards you was judged by tips, but they were all masters of the art of multitasking. Juggling money, credit cards, multiple drinks, and beckoning eye contact were just some of the basics. Due to Chaldea's current state, he didn't have to worry about the monetary part, but there was still the biggest point.

Bartenders practically required high-tier social skills to deal with such a variety of patrons.

This was what stupefied him when Marie requested he become the salon's bartender. Social skills were not one of his highest points by any stretch of the definition, yet she still insisted it should be him. Mozart could entertain with music, and Chevalier d'Eon was considerate and knightly when delivering drinks and hors d'oeuvre. Even if he was the last remaining pick of her volunteered staff, she still believed he would be great at it.

Perhaps he should not have judged her opinion lightly, for Marie's talent did not just lie with making others feel welcome and cheerful. Their French Queen had an intuition and insight that was unbelievable at times; She proved it again when he committed himself to his work, but he did not see it at first. He merely took the job as a sort of penance, seeing it as a better way to feel he was rightfully on track to earning the queen's forgiveness.

To his own surprise and Marie's total delight, he was phenomenal at it.

Using the same precision and intricacy his family used in their medical knowledge, he had perfected the art of mixing a drink in a timely manner. Compared to the other dedicated bartender who now worked with him, and the hobbyist Paracelsus, he could not be matched. Many even said their favorite drink tasted even better after his own little adjustments. However, though his drinks were well received, there had still been the lingering issue regarding certain social skills.

A servant approached and sat quietly on a stool behind him. "Slow day, huh~?"

"It's a nice change of pace," Sanson quietly responded as he turned to the French Queen.

Marie quietly hummed to herself as she kept her head propped up on two dainty arms. Her silky white minidress glittered in the surrounding, bright light, almost mimciking her starry sphinx kitten resting by her elbows. The eternal snow storm had lightened considerably to make the windows brighter, but the snow still fell and twinkled like the amusement in her eyes. She kept her gaze locked on Sanson as he glanced at the stocking list of their drinks, ensuring there was more than enough for the afternoon's lessons and the possible evening requests. He looked up from his clipboard as the rider giggled.

"I kinda miss the hustle and bustle, don't you?" Marie asked as her crossed legs gently swayed. "It's a little boring now."

"Is anything ever boring with our beautiful queen present?" Sanson quipped gently with a tiny smile, making the rider gasp in delighted surprise.

"Aww, Sanson~! Magnifique~! All these days of coaching have made a wonderful difference~!" Marie happily sang. She giggled as Sanson merely shrugged. "Non, non, non! Be happy! That's great progress~! Though you're far more conversable than before, you're not Mata Hari, but you'll get there!"

To his open admittance, his social skills were often too formal and stoic for a bartender. Many appreciated that he could listen to them, but conversations were almost always one sided and short. All he could ever offer was the drink, an ear, and a rare line, but not much more. Even with the addition of the French General, who occasionally and temporarily assisted him, the bar remained one of the few spots in the salon that could use improvement. Ever eager to please and showcase the glory of France, Marie knew exactly what the necessary remedy was.

Hearing quick skips, Sanson looked up and nodded at his fellow assassin's approach. She gently hugged Marie from behind. "Good Afternoon, Marie! Charlie!"

"A little early today, Maisie~!" the rider exclaimed happily as the assassin released her embrace. "Always lovely to see you so eager~!"

She waved happily at Sanson, who gave a tiny smile back in response. He eyed her new salon uniform as she sashayed to the other side of the bar, letting her loose flowing hair swing gently behind her. The emerald, off-shoulder dress was elegant like his fellow coworkers' uniforms and fit the alluring female assassin well. Its white frills were coupled with a form hugging, aesthetic corset that did not crush her form. If it did anything, it accentuated her real assets.

With a slight sway of her hips and a hum on her lips, the assassin finished her stroll. She was the newest staff addition, though she was not French born. Due to her time in Paris, and as a show of apology for her death, Marie made her an honorary staff member. The employees loved her friendliness, and occasional flirty demeanor; The rare times she offered to help at the bar showcased she was a natural. Without a doubt to Sanson, this was the primary reason she was chosen.

The amusing fact was that she was almost clueless on how to mix drinks, but she was phenomenal at hospitality. It made for a perfect coupling behind the bar; Marie often complained to him that she should have hired her sooner. Since late February, Mata Hari had become another face often seen within the salon, but this time as French staff instead of a regular lounger. That, however, was just the first part of Marie's plan.

"Ready for your time trials?" Sanson asked as he placed the clipboard on the counter with a small smile. Since the sphinx kitten was now awake and licking its paw, he had not been worried about stirring the little thing. Instead, Marie was gently petting it as she retook her seat.

His partner put her hands akimbo and winked playfully. "If you're ready to hold your own in a quick-witted conversation with me~!"

"I suppose that's a yes then," the man declared with a hint of confidence, making Marie and Mata Hari look at each other in proud amusement.

"My, my~! Don't mind if I sit here and watch!" Marie giggled as she practically bounced in her seat with excitement. The kitten quickly regained her attention by mewling.

The real goal of Marie's plan was to wind up with two phenomenal bartenders once their little trade bore fruit. Sanson would learn improved social skills and wit from Mata Hari, while she'd discover how to make wonderful drinks that Sanson was well known for. It was very unlikely they'd be as good as the other in their own specialties. However, he had no doubt it would be a bountiful harvest for the salon. Their lessons began just before March, but they had to pause due to the seventh singularity and busy following days.

Pulling out a stopwatch from his pocket, he eyed the confident and playful brunette as she picked up a glass. He nodded and pressed the button. "May I have two Strawberry Daiquiris?"

With that, she was off in a heartbeat to grab the rum. "Coming right up, Sugar~!"

"Can I have a Cosmo~? And some water for Whiskers?" Marie chimed in, making Sanson check the timer as the assassin quickly flicked ingredients into the blender.

"Sure thing, miss!" she stated as her hand moved for the first ingredient in the other drink. He noted she overthought and used a touch too much ice compared to his refined recipe when Marie distracted her with another order. Still, the stress wasn't getting to her. If Mata Hari could do anything, it was handle situations under pressure just like he could. The difference was simply what would taste better for the patron in the end: The conversation or the drink?

"I'd like a Martini and a Kiss on the Lips too, if you please," Sanson asked casually as he noted the time; She was faster than the last lesson alread-

Mata Hari made a playful sound and eyed Sanson. "Lovely choice there, big guy, but that depends if you like wearing a smear of lipstick on you too~…"

Believing it was her attempt to throw him off guard as part of her own training, he simply smirked and made eye contact. "It should go well with this smile you gave me."

He guessed right, and felt proud as Mata Hari broke her playful façade to gasp at Sanson. Marie happily patted him on the back while giggling gleefully. The queen calmed herself down and returned to her mewling kitten as Mata Hari continued her mixing. She smiled at Sanson, but he didn't turn around. "A little corny, but it was better than stuttering or looking around blankly for an answer! Just try not to be too flirty with my patrons or one might run off with you~!"

"I'm just answering appropriately per person, as she taught me," Sanson offered with a tiny chuckle. He suddenly felt better about handling her own test after this.

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By dinnertime, the two bartenders had sat down on their side of the bar to enjoy their supper. Mixing drinks had been a quick and orderly affair, made extra smooth since they felt extra upbeat with their own successes. Mata Hari's drinks tasted far better than before, and Sanson's execution of conversations were feeling much more natural and lively. To his silent admittance, his improvement was making him feel better as well; The last singularity had given him some bitter sights he did not wish to accept.

In comforting silence, the two dug into tonight's dish. Both of them chose the chicken alfredo with linguini and sprinkled broccoli. It was a rather plain dish, and a touch messy to eat, but tasted wonderful. Kiyohime's venture into Italian culinary was a success if he had anything to say about it. Judging by the pleased sounds Mata Hari made beside him, she could only agree. They both savored every bite as the gentle clatter and conversations of dinner echoed through the air.

Marie and the others were happily eating at another table, but the two were content to man the bar to save some walking time. It wasn't often, but there would occasionally be someone wishing for a mixed drink of sorts. Usually, many were considerate enough to let the bartenders eat in peace; Either way, they didn't mind since they had a satisfying job.

"I heard Tamamo's attempting a Chilean asado for the first time this weekend," Sanson stated to break the warm stillness. "I'm not sure which to look forward to if that's the case… The event or the beach party afterwards?"

Mata Hari's eyes glistened as she swallowed her bite. "They always talked about it since we got the beach! Oh~! I can't wait to try it~!"

"If it's anything like her first attempt at Maine lobster, I'm sure it will be great."

With a dreamy sigh, Mata Hari twirled another portion onto her fork. "Ahh… another luxury I wish we could find again. That was incredible seafood."

Sanson was about to reply, but turned his head to two approaching signatures. Hearing the quick pitter patter of footsteps, Mata Hari also turned and quickly smiled. Jack and Nursery Rhyme, both wearing matching black frilly dresses with white flower motifs, ran up to the bar with excited twinkles in their eyes. With an adoring smile, the female assassin pushed her plate aside as Sanson did the same. They both stood and moved their stools away as the children placed their small hands at the edge of the counter.

With bright smiles, they peered up at them and practically bounced where they stood. Sanson could tell his partner was hardly containing herself… and then she couldn't anymore. "Awww~! Do you little cupcakes want anything? What can we do for you darlings?"

"Let me guess… a vodka on the rocks while mommy thinks you're somewhere else?" Sanson quipped, making the girls laugh as Mata Hari playfully pushed his shoulder. To answer, the girls gently shook their heads in tandem with bright smiles.

"Mommy says we can have a big ice cream sundae if we share it with her!" Jack exclaimed as she raised her hands above her head in a display of size. Out of the corner of his eyesight, he could see Marie practically fawning over the sight. "Can we please have a big ice cream sundae?"

"Lots of sweet flavors please!" Nursery Rhyme asked as she bounced on her toes. She stared between them, making Sanson chuckle at the glint in her eyes.

Since Mata Hari could barely control her own cooing fit, Sanson nodded with a small smile to the girls. To their twinkling delight, he reached into the bar's under-counter shelves and pulled out a crystal sundae boat. Discovered by Marie, the fancy dishes were big enough for couples or families to share. Its bottom half depicted a beautiful sail ship complete with a bowsprit. The sails were not included to make eating the interior of the hollowed ship easier.

While his partner quickly moved to grab the whipped cream and toppings, Sanson walked to the salon's fridge to get the ice cream. The bar was often used for drinks of all sorts, but they also had an aesthetically pleasing freezer for direct access to cold treats and stored ice. It was rarely ever used, but they kept it stocked as necessary for situations like this; It was almost always one of the four girls who asked for the frozen delights.

After quickly obtaining several tubs of different flavors, Sanson returned to the counter. Mata Hari had quickly walked around the counter to join the girls on the other side. Jack happily held the sprinkles container while the older female assassin carefully opened the container of chocolate candy. Before she could put the container down, Nursery Rhyme and Jack quickly reached in and plucked some of the M&Ms. As Mata Hari playfully gasped, with an exaggerated hand to her mouth, the girls giggled.

"Naughty girls…" she teasingly chastised as she waved her finger, making the girls giggle more. They quickly snatched two more while Mata Hari laughed.

As Sanson began quickly filling the boat with scoops, the doctor in him remained silent. Many months and several private studies ago, it would have screamed for daring to give children so much sugar in one helping. It was unhealthy, but being a servant had its blessings. They didn't have to worry about many things like calories, though they would definitely still feel a sugar rush. It had taken him some practice, but he had long since subdued his medical side when it came to food and alcohol.

If anything, he was just content to help keep these girls happy. Despite who they really were, they were young servants, even if they had seen the depths of hell multiple times. It took him a few days to personally get over the atrocities he witnessed in Babylonia, and he imagined it was the same for them. They had lost many of their playmates they bonded with, so for them to be smiling happily was a relieving sight. Sometimes laughter and hopeful innocence was the most effective medicine.

"Is this enough for your family, or do you want your mother to be bouncing off the walls as well?" Sanson asked with an amused smirk.

The children grinned and quickly motioned for more as Mata Hari gently rubbed their heads. "They're growing girls~! They could use all the sugar they can get!"

Putting his lessons to the test, Sanson shrugged as he began grabbing more scoops. "I'm not sure this can make them any sweeter, but it won't hurt to try."

"Yay! Thank you!" the two siblings replied and giggled.

Mata Hari snapped an approving grin and wink his way. Truth be told, it was still difficult for him to quickly come up with those quips on the spot. He was called a sort of wallflower that enjoyed silently listening and giving a rare point on occasion. Mata Hari and Marie did much to change that, but they would always be far better with the children than him; There was just something about a woman's affection and gingerly care. He was glad his bartending partner was here assisting him with their request.

With a quick flip of his wrist, the new chocolate syrup bottle spun into the air from beneath the counter. He grabbed it and swiftly flipped the top open. Upon gently squeezing the bottle, he frowned as it resisted. He squeezed a little harder while aiming at the ice cream boat, but nothing came out. While Mata Hari helped Jack with the sprinkles container, Sanson stared in confusion at the bottle's top. There was no way to remove the top since it was an unusual, one-piece container, but the contents were soft an-

"Just squeeze it harder!" Nursery Rhyme cheered with a smile. With a shrug and a tiny smile, Sanson re-aimed the bottle's top and did jus-

Splash! An unseen seal, somehow placed within the bottle, broke instantly after just a tiny slither of servant strength. The resulting, surprise cascade coated the ice cream evenly, thankfully, but it was the sheer speed and velocity that was unplanned. Though his skill and precision allowed the topping to be perfectly distributed, not all of it wound up on the boat. Some of the initial strike had bounced off of the frozen treat to splash onto Mata Hari's face.

"Ahhh! Charles!" Mata Hari yelped through laughter as she quickly looked at her dress. Thankfully, none had gotten on her uniform because of its off-shoulder design, but there were a few drops on her bare shoulders and neck. She looked at the other bartender with a teasingly look, but he merely shrugged.

"I can assure you, Mata Hari, it was a team effort," he noted with a chuckle as he glanced to Nursery Rhyme. She giggled and nodded her head happily.

The older assassin's playful pout turned into giggles as Jack quickly began collecting tasty syrup with her finger. Nursery Rhyme joined in on the act, helping clean the assassin of her plight. Mata Hari looked at the male assassin as he bottle the chocolate syrup, only to glance back at her to catch her stare. He raised an eyebrow with a tiny smirk. "…Yes, miss? Would you like an apology on the rocks? Or maybe you want me to share in that treat?"

After giving him a slightly surprised but delighted gasp, she laughed. "Your quips! You're making me so proud!"

In the corner of his eye, he could see Marie giving him a very approving, curious, and satisfied stare that gleamed in her crystal eyes.

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After the kids skipped off with their family's dessert, the bartending duo had finished their dinner while enjoying pleasant conversation. Save for a few patrons requesting a drink or two, it was a rather slow night compared to days immediately after the seventh singularity. Mozart was once more playing the grand piano to wind down the evening as many of the guests left to prepare for bed. There were some that remained to enjoy some late-night conversations, and one of them was approaching the bar.

As Mata Hari and Sanson finished cleaning the sundae boat and other assorted glasses, a proud chuckle echoed into their ears. The female looked up with a friendly smile, but Sanson's usual stoic features joined her. One eyebrow was raised in curiosity, for it was usually rare that Shakespeare would come for an after-dinner drink. Yet here he was, approaching them happily in his maroon dress shirt and black formal pants. His black tie swung gently, mirroring his glancing eyes as he feigned a search.

His gaze gleamed with renewed enthusiasm, the likes of which Sanson had not seen in a while. "Ne'er hath there been a night so grand in recent mind! O' blessed night! Gracious in bounty, thou kisses this scribe! But alas, to imprison such delight with not an ear to borrow! I alone, my affection's counselor! O' lamentable plight! Yet still, there chance but one with ears to lend! A fellow who bears witness to one's happy fortune banishing dark!"

"…What?" Mata Hari asked as she tried to decipher his soliloquy. Shakespeare laughed as he came up to the stools, all while she turned to her partner. "Sanson, do you-"

"Once profound stillness... so sundered by cries of hearty glee. And yet, thou grasps a blossomed radiance so rarely gazed in days gone," Sanson replied smoothly, making Mata Hari gawk at him in exasperation. The male assassin nodded to the playwright. "By this night's grace, what brings thou hither?"

Yes, there were very few patrons the white-haired assassin could handle better than Mata Hari, and Shakespeare was near the top of that list. They had grown a curious sort of friendship, if mainly because the assassin had incredible patience and was a great listener; What does a playwright love more if not a listener? Their bond had slowly grown to the point Sanson was the only one who would dare answer Shakespeare in his own unique tongue. It was something the writer always appreciated.

As part of his noble upbringing, learning the arts had been part of his childhood. Shakespeare's works were among the top in his family's collection, and one of the more interesting reads, he'd admit. Though he never told his playwright friend, he was almost positive he understood this fact. If anything, his ease of speaking the caster's style without difficulty proved it, since the grail did not determine that linguistic artistry was of functional importance.

"Sanson, my debonair rampallian! Thou flatters my hopes with eloquent tongue!" Shakespeare cheered as he happily took a seat. Gently, he placed a worn notebook onto the counter and grinned. The leather-bound book was one of the newer items carried by the playwright, and Sanson already had an inkling why he was so pleased. "I prithee, let this muse drink of the fine wine of companionship this night, for I cascade with pomp! Doth thou take interest?"

After revealing a tiny smirk, Sanson shrugged and teased, "I take interest, but I do not take interest at you, sir."

"Ah! But you wound me, sir!" Shakespeare stated theatrically through his amusement. "From reach it slithers! The hope of lended ear! O', but only once this fair night, I pray you give chance! O' dear friend, gift thine sympathy to this laureled beggar? What say thee?"

"Please tell me you two aren't going to talk like this the whole time," Mata Hari groaned in exasperation, making the two laugh.

"For you, Mata Hari, I shall cease!" Shakespeare conceded as the female assassin sighed in complete relief. "I had my fun! Thank you for the entertainment, dear Sanson!"

"Any time you wish to trade," the bartender replied with a chuckle as he fetched a glass. "Now then… You wanted to boast about something no one else wanted to listen to?"

"Indeed! I have been cured from my curse and my pen was found no longer wanting!" Shakespeare chuckled as he patted the book before him. "With the singularity's pause, I was struck like lightning! My mind soared faster than my pen, and so finally, I rest confident! Chaldea shall have its new play!"

Mata Hari raised an eyebrow as Sanson began mixing the playwright's favorite drink with a small smile. "That is something to celebrate. How many months has this been delayed?"

"But alas! Delayed, no more!" Shakespeare cheered as Sanson began pouring the fruit juice into the drink. "I only need to cast and wait until the auditorium's renovation is complete! But that grants me time! Time to plan with Helena and Hans to ensure this is my latest masterpiece! My new tragedy!"

"Aww… I was hoping for a comedy," Mata Hari admitted, though her eyes quickly filled with hopeful enthusiasm. "Oh! Is there thrilling romance?"

Shakespeare laughed at the assassin's hopeful wish. It was common knowledge that Mata Hari loved that kind of stuff. She had her own little collection of romance novels in her room, and she would sometimes rabble on to him about the plot of some. While he did pride himself on being a respectful and tentative listener, the love scene wasn't as appealing of a topic; He'd honestly rather listen to his playwright friend's stories, but he still lent his ear readily for his partner.

"Ah, but to divulge is to spoil the fruit of my labor! Let patience hold you still, lest the wood rot!" Shakespeare offered in a diluted concoction of his usual mannerisms. Upon catching the relenting sigh, he quickly chuckled. "But alas, milady Mata Hari, I shall tease! It strives to shadow Romeo and Juliet!"

As Shakespeare continued to happily, but vaguely, hype his work, Sanson quietly appreciated the day's change of pace. The many nights of him and Mata Hari cheering up patrons was a constant guarantee, one which they were both relieved was over. Between the children and Shakespeare's renewed enthusiasm, Chaldea was definitely feeling like itself again. It was a relief to both of them, so much so even Mata Hari was eagerly listening to the playwright.

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Mata Hari had left temporarily for the night, leaving him alone to tend to the bar. She had picked up a small hobby as a dance instructor of certain varieties; No one was surprised belly dancing was one. If he recalled correctly, tonight should be a private lesson in ballroom dancing for two servant couples, but he did not ask which. All that mattered was that the salon's bar-top radio, playing soft classical music, would be his only companion for now.

The bar hours for the salon were extended to help employees cope, and that would be ending early next week with the improved atmosphere. It meant he could get some pleasant rest instead of staying up until roughly two in the morning. The extended hours never bothered him truthfully, servant or not. Those waking moments and helping serve others kept his mind from the lahmus' atrocities in Babylonia, which he wanted to completely forget.

It had irked him greatly that they killed just for sport and amusement; Death was not some drawn out play. Even as an executioner who did his work publicly, death was something that had to be seriously handled with no sense of emotion. He was a deliverer, who would grant those found guilty with as peaceful of a sentence as he could. His medical knowledge and calm demeanor ensured it was always done appropriately. It was why the seventh singularity wasn't the only one he wished to forget.

The madness that consumed him in the first had caused him to say atrocious things to his queen. The royal family, which he and his family loved, was tarnished by his maddened tongue. He expected to be forever scorned by Marie, but the only initial disgust was from Mozart. Instead, she quickly forgave him and hoped they could build a better future together. It had stunned him, and though he sought his own redemption, he tried to follow her silent lesson that it was best to forget and move on.

With that in mind, he rested on one of the bar stools and read his current book. The assassin barely had any hobbies of his own, but reading was one from his nobleman upbringing. It was calming, and often brought him to a different world away from realities. He didn't skim, but savored every word slowly with his eyes. An author took time to put these words down, so he felt it was only gracious and appropriate to absorb every one.

He wasn't sure how long he had been reading alone, but he heard the footsteps walk through the door. Since there was only a minor presence, it was a magus employee. With a quick check of his watch, he confirmed it was just past midnight, making him curious if someone still wasn't getting proper sleep. As he raised his eyes to let them glance over the dark-haired Indian woman, he felt himself grow confused. Anishka didn't like alcohol, yet the employee, still in her Leyshift staff uniform, walked towards the bar.

He gazed into her tired, slightly bloodshot eyes, but they did little to mar Chaldea's most beautiful employee. She only smiled weakly and nodded, "Good evening, Sanson."

Even her voice sounded unusually weak, though he didn't know this employee as well as some other servants. What little he learned from her was from Gabrielle, Rama, or someone else who was close. He closed his book and nodded back. "Miss Sharma. Is there something I can do for you?"

She looked small and vulnerable, as she rubbed her uniform's sleeve. "…I wish for a glass of water, please. I hope you don't mind me visiting for a bit."

"Not at all. That's why we're open," Sanson noted as he quickly walked around the bar to fulfill her request. She slowly came over and took a seat on one of the stools. Quietly, he placed the glass in front of her, watching as she gently grasped it. Her sip was quick and light, but it sent a wave of relief rushing through her. It was clearly a relief from something she had just experienced.

Honestly, Sanson's previous job as an executioner gave him a surprising advantage as a bartender. He had often seen all the subtly suppressed emotions, and was able to tell the smallest signs to make a conclusion. Those guilty often expressed a wide range, from acceptance and guilt to anger or sadness. By being incredibly perceptive of emotions, it made reading a person's mood almost instantaneous for him. It served as a strong foundation for learning to appropriately converse with customers when combined with Mata Hari's coaching.

As he observed Anishka, he watched her pupils gently waver and her breath hitch slightly. With a slightly increased tension in her grasp of the cup, she stared into the clear liquid as it fell still. There was no doubt in his mind what she was feeling, so this was one emotion he needed to act upon swiftly with consideration. "I do not mean to pry, Miss Sharma, but something has you frightened. Is there some way I can help?"

Enveloped by surprise and uncertainty, she looked to Sanson as he calmly pulled over one of the stools from behind the bar. He took a seat with his usual stoic expression and folded his hands gently before him. So many times, he had done this for someone who was about to be executed, if only to give them a final moment of peace. These days, it was yet another of the past days attempts to soothe a staff member's concerns.

Quietly, she whispered to him after glancing about the room. "It's… It's difficult… There's not really anything to solve, but it has me worried."

He simply nodded gently. "You may be vague if it helps calm you down."

"…If that is okay…" she began slowly with a sigh. There was a pause as she recollected herself. "I saw something I don't think I should have… Something involving a servant's behavior, but nothing to inform Captain Okita about…"

Something enough to scare an employee, but not enough to warrant telling Okita? As part of the original Chaldean Peacekeepers, Anishka would know better than most on what is deemed reportable. Still, she was clearly scared and worried over what she witnessed. "Was it a personal warning? A threat?"

"No… no, none of the sort… I just accidentally stumbled upon him and found myself staring. It was rude on my part, but I just felt so confused with what I saw and heard…" she quickly answered, and he could tell by her eyes and movement she wasn't lying. However, she was concealing something, but he had asked her to be vague so he discarded that notion. "Then he turned around and… that look he gave me was… I just didn't expect it. It scared me. I felt like I was looking at a different person and not the hero I thought I knew…"

At that last revelation, Sanson found himself growing more curious. It wasn't uncommon for a heroic spirit to act strangely compared to their legend; Blackbeard was a prime example of this. However, to frighten an employee and degrade her genuine impression of him? This definitely felt like a serious change of perspective instead of something annoyingly trivial like Nobunaga's mischievous pranks.

"They might possibly be a hidden threat of sorts, but since you can't be specific, I can only guess. I only hope this doesn't escalate into something," Sanson noted with a solemn nod. "If you feel the need for company, you're welcome to stay as long as you need. No one should feel vulnerable in this facility."

Anishka nodded gratefully as she gently turned the glass in her hands. "…Thank you. I would appreciate that."

Often times, things didn't necessarily feel resolved when someone came to talk or listen. Sometimes, Sanson just felt all he could do was provide some relief, whether from fear or depression. Thankfully, Anishka wasn't one to find soothing satisfaction at the bottom of a glass. Instead, she just wished for company, whether quiet or not. He would grant that small request in hopes it would shave a bit of her fear away.

"It's best not to dwell," Sanson noted, ensuring her churning mind didn't wander too deep. "I'm not the best at conversations, but I'm working on it… Would you like to talk about something else? Maybe you're quietly looking forward to this weekend's spectacle?"

Anishka gave a small, appreciative smile to the assassin.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Mata Hari had returned from her late-night lessons to help reassure Anishka. Even though she kept her experience quiet, it still clearly bothered the employee. To ensure she at least got some rest for tomorrow, the female assassin had walked the employee back to her room as a personal guard for the night, if only to soothe her weary mind. That meant Sanson was once more left alone, but tonight proved to be more curious than most.

Only a minute after the two left, the current pair of patrons had come to drink. The two men of the Emiya household sat on the other side of the bar, but they did not say a word to each other. Kiritsugu only patted his adopted son's shoulder reassuringly once or twice. As he readied their chosen drinks, they sat in an unusual but comfortable silence as they occasionally glanced at the large, dark windows.

Perception curiously active, Sanson began picking up the subtle ques. Still wearing his white dress shirt and black pants, he pulled his glance as Emiya turned back to face the bar. His adopted father also wore his own black polo and slacks, indicating they had probably been talking since dinner ended; He had noticed them lingering at their family's table a touch longer than usual. However, their relaxed postures brought no sense of tension, so he had his small clues on what this was about.

Knowing what Emiya had been through the past few days, the assassin had his drink ready first. "I made it light like usual, Emiya. I take it you're feeling better?"

"You're far from wrong," the archer replied as Sanson calmly handed Chaldea's premier chef his drink. "I have many to thank for that."

"What would your old man be if he didn't help you out with advice?" Kiritsugu asked with a small chuckle as Sanson handed him his own, harder liquor. "I'm just satisfied I'm the one with the hard drink and not you."

"I try not to think of what Saber would do if I drank myself into the ground," Emiya chuckled, making his father quickly put his drink down to laugh.

"Sooner or later, we could try to build up your tolerance, if only to stand with her knights," Kiritsugu offered, but they all knew that was a far-flung hope.

"That might actually kill me, Jii-san. They can handle far more than I can," the archer groaned lightly as Sanson cleaned a glass while observing.

The mood had raised rapidly, but it did not surprise the working assassin. As a bartender, one got to witness many things in the salon, both sad and happy. This one in particular was uplifting after seeing Emiya struggle with what appeared to be a terrible migraine for the past few days. Many of the kitchen and Marie's staff were worried, but the archer's stubborn resolve allowed him to plow right through and deliver his meals with no hitch in quality. It made him curious, and he wanted to ask to quench his own thirst.

However, bartenders, first and foremost, tried to be hospitable as Marie often commented. Mata Hari explained that people appreciated one who showed interest and concern. The trick was doing it courteously and skillfully so it did not appear as either a selfish inquiry or a forced conversation; It needed to feel natural and genuine. It was one of the harder things to learn, but he had some experience with more formal, regal icebreakers to draw upon. Still, skill was best gained with actual attempts.

He just needed to wait for the right moment as Emiya finished his drink and made eye contact with him. "Sanson, you mind giving me another rum and punch?"

"Not a problem, Emiya, but just be careful…" he warned with a slightly amused tone. "You appear over your migraines, but I don't wish to personally give you another in the morning."

Emiya and Kiritsugu chuckled back. The archer smirked and shook his head. "I won't be testing my tolerance levels tonight."

"I'm sure Marie would be pleased. The wine tasting is tomorrow, after all," Sanson joked back as he took the empty glass from the archer. "All kidding aside, it's good you're back to your regular self, Emiya. You had us concerned with that migraine's strange consistency, if I may say so."

With silent relief, Sanson was glad Emiya's mood barely shifted as he nodded back. "It was not my intent to cause any of that, but thank you. It wasn't a fun few days, that's for sure."

"Like father, like son, sadly," Kiritsugu empathized, to which Emiya chuckled dryly. "I'm grateful Iri was so supportive of me through my whole ordeal."

"And I had my family and Saber," Emiya replied with a glint of overflowing appreciation, but Sanson was more curious about the revelation.

It was only a rumor since so many had received memorial essences recently, but he now practically confirmed Emiya had also received one. In hindsight, it should have been fairly obvious, but he was not one to pry. Perhaps Marie knew but simply didn't choose to gossip about it at tea time; She never did unless one of her staff were to get one. No longer in the dark, he still felt his curiosity tugging at him. He was glad he had managed to precisely maneuver himself to this point.

Mata Hari and Marie would be proud as he pressed further. "I hope it wasn't too traumatic. Medusa had a pretty rough one herself."

"A lot of what I saw and felt was… unacceptable," Emiya stated with a tiny frown, but his mood otherwise held firm and high. "Good grief… I don't agree with much of what I saw, so I prefer just to leave it at that. Thankfully, it did come with something interesting."

"Interesting?" Sanson found himself asking as he delivered the newly filled drink back to the archer. Kiritsugu chuckled and shook his head as Emiya raised a hand to his side. Sanson tilted his head as he felt the slight hum of prana from the outreached limb.

With a tiny smirk, Emiya muttered some of his signature words. "Trace. On."

In a flash, he had traced a weapon he had never seen before that made him scrunch his eyebrows. It was familiar, yet so very different. Black in design, it had the same curving edge and red crackles from one of the archer's favorite blades. However, that was just a small, underslung piece of what was clearly supposed to be a firearm. The unusual melding had him baffled as the archer quickly spun it with experienced ease, mimicking Billy's showy gunplay with his revolver.

"…A gun? I thought you were a… sword incarnation, was it?" Sanson asked quietly as Emiya grasped the pistol perfectly to stop its windmill spin.

"I'm a bunch of things, apparently, though I believe Saber still has me beat in variety," Emiya proclaimed with a smirk as he gazed at the unique pistol. With a sudden hint of devious pride, he turned to his father. "…though perhaps, I have a chance to beat Jii-san."

Kiritsugu levelled his own smirk at his upstart son. "Oh? Confident words, Shirou… You sure you can beat your old man in a shootout?"

"Just as long as you don't do it here or spin the firearm into the counter," Sanson added as he began cleaning a few glasses. "If you do, then Marie's the only one who is going to do any beating around here."

Emiya dematerialized his weapon as the two counter guardians laughed heartily. Sanson found himself smiling as well, knowing he got his answer through skillful maneuvering. While doing so, he ensured he didn't break the mood nor cause any sort of discomfort, so he felt further accomplishment through his actions. Truth be told, it was hard to even fathom breaking their calm and relaxed state. They were both satisfied, without a doubt.

It was this acceptance and family strength that Sanson found himself admiring just a bit. This was not the first time he's seen it by a longshot, but it was always a kind reminder to witness. He quietly continued to clean the glass, appreciating the moment for its simplicity and uplifting stability. He also made sure to store away all learned information to inform Marie later, for the queen loved nothing more than her gossip time.

The only question that remained, was if she would learn from Emiya first or himself.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Soft, classical music played in the air as Sanson tried to understand how he got himself into this predicament. Currently, he was sitting on one of the ottomans, leaning forward gently to allow his queen to complete her task. On another ottoman across from him, Marie's kitten was fast asleep though its ear occasional twitched. Wearing a comfy set of white yoga pants and a loose shirt, she looked far less elegant than her usual prim and proper dress. If you asked any of the salon members, however, she was always looking her greatest when she smiled.

He was surprised she was still awake and came to talk, but even more astonished she had the impulse to practice her newest hobby on him. It appears he wasn't the only salon member learning something from the friendly assassin. Though he contently read at the bar after the Emiyas left, this was a turn he was not expecting. This time, it was the bartender receiving the hospitality.

Marie's hands gently kneaded into his shoulders, bringing a sense of relief to his partially stiff muscles. He felt her thumbs gently push into his tissue through his uniform's undershirt. With a breath of relief, he allowed himself this simple luxury even if he felt a touch uncomfortable. To be appreciated and held by his queen was beyond satisfaction, but his unrest laid with the himself. Was this something he was truly allowed?

With a gentle hum that joined the classical music, it appeared that thought never registered with the rider. "So, Monsieur Sanson, did you happen to spot the elusive ghost the employees have been whispering about?"

"Not yet, my Queen. I believe it's just another playful story the two tell to get some scares."

"Ah, a pity... but maybe it shall appear to a servant yet~! Ah, but I have yet to ask of more important matters. How am I doing~? Does it feel great~?"

"Bien sûr. I feel you've learned well, your majesty. I sincerely mean that," Sanson reassured with a small smile, making her giggle. By accident in his relaxed and loose state, he let his silent thoughts slip by accident. "But I also feel unworthy of this kind treatment from you-"

He winced as she pinched him in a sensitive spot, but she only giggled. "C'est n'importe quoi! You need to stop doubting yourself, Sanson. Though you've proved yourself to me before, seeing your honor and bravery in Uruk proved it beyond any doubt to all. You have no more need to keep blaming yourself, or so I must keep telling you."

With a small sigh, he looked back at Marie, though she merely kept massaging him. Her warm smile melted his grievances away as she hummed gently. "You're an upstanding man, and I'm glad you're my citizen and dear friend. I would not have asked you to help me if I didn't believe so! Now, consider my massage as another gift from your generous queen!"

How many times did they have small, private conversations like this? He wondered if the others had any similar self-doubts, especially Mozart. Just like the many others, he found himself disarmed under her ever cheerful yet firm demeanor. Perhaps it was her charm and charisma, but she had him under her spell regardless. Marie Antoinette really did have the ability to win the hearts and minds of those she came to hold dear.

He believed the others working for her felt the same appreciation and adoration that he did. "…Thanks, Marie… I'm sorry you must keep reminding me."

"Don't worry, Sanson~! I am here for you all!" Marie happily cheered as she gently pushed on his back. "Mon amie! Please lay down on your stomach! I want to practice my back techniques~!"

Hoping no one would walk in on the late-night embarrassing act, he quietly did as he was told. Yes, she really did have him under her spell like an order… because he welcomed it.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

With the press of a button, the soft classical music had stopped playing. Sanson placed his book down and stretched, feeling his reinvigorated muscles tingle from the earlier massage. He sighed gently and looked towards the clock, noting it was a little past two in the morning. Staying a few minutes extra was never so bad, but after Marie left, he was by himself. His only companion the past hour was the salon's small radio, but he hardly minded.

Chaldea was far from the first place to come to mind for someone to feel uncomfortable. Sure there were tense moments caused by some unruly or difficult servants, but those issues worked themselves out over time. Sanson liked to equate it as getting used to new neighbors, though some were clearly more antagonistic than others. Even then, there was still hope for adaptation, since the arrogant and judging Gilgamesh had even turned himself down a few notches.

It silently made him wonder what would happen after humanity was saved. They were all gathered here under one goal, but with that objective finished, what then? Though he was certain quite a few would be content to stay, how many would be just as fine with ending the contract? As strange as it was, they had made a rather peculiar community through the many months, but the curtain was starting to come down; Only the finale would tell.

Even so, he was uncertain when that would be. Until then, he would gladly keep living this strange life he's etched out for himself. It was a satisfaction he never imagined in an impossible life one could not hope to dream. With a small chuckle and a shrug, he picked up his book and stood up from-

"Um, Mister Sanson?" a pair of quiet voices called out, knocking his thoughts free from his mind. Sanson blinked in surprise and looked towards the source.

So deep was his pondering he did not notice Atalanta's girls sneak back into the salon to stare at him. The hems of their matching white nightgowns, fitting yet frilly like a princess' garb, barely peaked out beneath blankets wrapped around them. Sanson recognized the fluffy pink blankets as little Christmas gifts from Atalanta, which were weaved with the same presence concealment properties as their cloaks. It was their mother's pure intent to keep them hidden and safe while they slept.

Instead, they were bunched up and used to sneak the girls across the silent facility. They looked up at him with sparkly, hopeful eyes as he blinked again. At a loss for words, he said the only rhetoric fact that would register on his tongue. "…You two are up late."

"Shhhh…!" they quietly hushed with fingers to their lips. He chuckled as they struggled to keep their wrapped, fluffy blankets from falling; They looked a bit like cocoons. "Please don't tell mommy."

They said it so synchronized, they nearly reminded him of Stheno and Euryale. He nodded slowly, but his precise and intuitive eyes quickly gazed the clues. To be fair, he didn't really need to, since he knew the mischievous girls could only be here for one reason. He smirked, "…You two want a midnight treat?"

"…The sundae was really tasty," Jack admitted with a small blush on her cheeks. Nursery Rhyme quietly nodded beside her.

Sanson shook his head slightly, making their hopes droop. They quickly rebounded when he presented a small smile. "Don't tell my queen, and I won't tell your mother. Deal?"

Their sparkling eyes told him all he needed to know, so he chuckled. "Make yourselves comfy on a couch, and I'll bring you a few scoops."

"Thank you!" With quiet cheers, they quickly scampered over to one of the couches while ensuring their blankets didn't fall.

Sanson chuckled and quickly went behind the counter to fulfil their wish. With smaller sundae helpings, he was much faster at getting everything ready. Two small spoons and napkins were quickly retrieved alongside the cups. He went to the fridge and got the ice cream, which was quickly joined by the toppings after being swiftly scooped. He had moved like lightning, but his precision did not suffer; It never suffered with an increased pace. Before long, his two matching vanilla sundaes were complete.

With practiced balance, he placed the two in one hand and the utensils in the other. Quietly, he moved from the bar over to the small couch the girls chose. Though the couches could not be claimed, there was often an unspoken agreement among the patrons. Atalanta's family usually occupied this particular couch at certain hours, so he wasn't surprised they chose it. Already, it was covered by their laid out, fluffy blankets to make for a comfortable-

Sanson quickly slowed down and sighed in a mix of exasperation and amusement. The two girls had fallen asleep on the couch, letting their heads fall gently to lean against the other. In Jack's small arms, she clutched a pale blue teddy bear with a white scarf, while Nursery Rhyme embraced a pink bunny with a red heart on its chest. Their gentle breathing made Sanson smile softly as he gently placed the sundaes down on the coffee table before them.

There were many situations to witness as a bartender, and this was just another one.

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he beheld his newest question: Should he let them sleep and place their treats in the fridge, or dare to disturb the gentle peace? He wished Mata Hari were here to assist, because she would likely know the correct answer. Perhaps there was none, and he'd have to decide on his own. With his mind made up, he acted on combined impulse and belief, mimicking what Marie would likely choose through her heart.

Little did he know at that moment, Marie and Atalanta peeped in adoration from the doorway while he gently tucked the girls into their blankets.