Shout out to my sister(!) who always joins me in making a concerted effort to ensure we end every phone call with "No mourners, no funerals" (even though she is the human-embodiment of a cat and therefore above such nonsense). May you all find f(riends)amily that share your unabashed love of this madness.

JESPER

"I think everything is ready." The strained look on Wylan's face is almost more that I can bear. Part of me wants to spend the next couple hours kissing him senseless until that look permanently fades from memory. Unfortunately, our house is filled with unwanted guests and I'm more exhausted than I've been in a long time.

"Thank you, Jes. You've been amazing."

"I know," the roll of his eyes accompanied by a slight smirk is a much better look for him.

"So humble too."

"I'm just chock full of humility. It's one of my best assets. Right up there with my exceptionally handsome face." My teasing grin is small. I'm too tired to really commit to any major level of humor right now. I collapse on the bed and he takes a seat beside me. We sit in compatible silence for a while.

"I'm really proud of you, you know that? I knew you'd been working on it but to fortify the entire first floor..."

"I can't take all the credit. That little boy, Jeph... it's incredible, Wylan. His sister may be a decent Fabrikator but she's nothing without him. I wouldn't have been able to do half as much without him either. He didn't say anything the entire time. Just stood there and held his sister's hand and helped me when I needed it, which was a lot there towards the end. I was worried he'd pass out or something but- well, we made it through. I kicked a couple kids out of one of the upstairs rooms and gave it to him and his sister. They need to rest something fierce."

"I'm glad you did. I haven't really checked around. How is everyone settling in?"

"Most of them look like they're at the best birthday party ever. I don't think any of them have ever even entered a house like this." He gives a short bark of laughter that belies the tension beneath the surface.

"I would've thought the same of you but I know you robbed your fair share of merchers before joining me in this fine, upstanding life of luxury." Now it's my turn to roll my eyes but I don't deny it. With a sigh, I push myself up to the pillows.

"I think I'll rest too before Kaz comes back and ruins everything."

"They're not back yet?"

"I saw a couple more people come in but no Kaz." The crease in Wylan's brow deepens.

"Have you seen Inej?" I shake my head.

"I haven't really been looking. She'll appear when she's ready and not a moment before."

"Yes, but- well, they've been out for a while. You don't think something has happened, do you?"

"I'm sure if it had, someone would've come and told us." Wylan doesn't look convinced.

"Come on, Wy, don't make me worry. I'm too tired to worry."

"It just seems strange. That's all. It's been longer than I expected. And what with everything Inej was telling us..." With a groan, I grab a pillow and cover my face.

"Fine. Fine, let's go ask someone. Then, can I go to sleep?"

"Oh, it's ok. You stay here. I'll check."

"Nope. Not possible. Now you've got me all agitated." Wylan pats my hand and I throw the pillow behind me and slide off the bed. I lean against it for a few seconds before standing.

"I'm glad."

"You're what?" He has the decency to look a little sheepish.

"I didn't really want to go face all those grizzly gang members by myself."

"Did you just- did- you played me! I should just stay here to spi-" He grabs me by the hand and pulls me unceremoniously along behind him.

"It'll just take a second. I'm sure you can help me find the most senior member to ask." With a sigh, I allow myself to be led to the door.

"Just so you know, I'm expecting payment for services rendered."

"Oh really?" He doesn't look at me but I don't need to see his face to know he's raising his right eyebrow. It's what he does every time poses a question he already knows the answer to.

"Yes, really. I'm expecting a lot of-" he does turn then and places a soft kiss on my cheek. He still manages to blush when he does things like that, even after all this time.

"A lot of?" There's the eyebrow.

"That. Except everywhere." His blush deepens and I take a moment to finger one of his blonde curls. "You're lucky I love you so much." He suddenly looks like he's ready to swoon, which is generally the face he makes when I say 'love'. It only started a couple months ago and the first time wasn't easy. I'm not one to bandy about words like that and he knows it. Surprisingly, it took him longer to say it in reply.

He explained the difficulty one night after a rather passionate exclamation on my part. He'd heard his father, his mother-in-law (if you could Alys that), even a couple very inappropriate tutors say it and, if their actions were any indication, it never seemed to mean what he expected. Only his mother seemed to really mean it but that was remembered with child-like innocence. He'd thought she was dead for the majority of his life so there wasn't much real-life experience to highlight the truth.

"You know, I'm sure everything is fine. We can stay-"

"Oh no, you don't. You started this. We're going down there to investigate together. Then, and only then, will we return so I can sleep. Preferably after I peel all your clothes off." I don't have to look at him to know he's blushing again. His fair skin is definitely one of my favorite parts of him. Remembering how he looks in the midst of love-making, all flushed and sweaty, is enough to make me reconsider our plan. Unfortunately, he's already started for the door and I follow, albeit with less anticipation than before.

The low drone of many voices meets us as soon as we open the doors, growing louder the lower we descend. I'm unsurprised by the amount of people when we open the ballroom doors but I can tell Wylan severely underestimated how many gang members we're currently housing. Only a few turn to look at us when we enter; most seemingly heavily invested in their own conversations. I look around until I see a couple familiar faces.

Anika's worried gaze meets my own and I'm instantly filled with dread. That look can only mean one thing. Kaz has gone and done something stupid and reckless and-

The devil himself takes this as his cue to enter. Anika turns as soon as my eyes move past her and I hear a collective sigh of relief from many of the Dregs around the room. Kaz, as always, either ignores or fails to notice the effect he has on the crowd. I'm betting on the former but I'm not known for my particularly successful gambling habits.

His hair is mussed, more apparent than usual without his customary hat. His cane clicks along with his uneven gait, which is profoundly more pronounced that usual. Somehow, despite his disheveled black suit, he manages to look debonair, which isn't a word I ever thought I'd use to describe Kaz Brekker. There's no denying he's handsome, although it's the kind of attractiveness one feels toward dangerously beautiful animals. Elegant on the outside but with claws that strike deep, more than ready to enjoy feasting on your insides.

Something is draped over his arm and I'm suddenly immensely intrigued by the entire situation. Wylan moves forward next to me, matching my pace as well as anyone with normally-proportioned limbs can.

"I see you managed to make it back alive, Brekker." He doesn't respond to me but glances at Anika, who looks entirely too relieved for my understanding. What exactly went on out there? It's during this moment that Inej makes her presence known. How I missed her before, her black clothing stark against the soft browns and shades of white of the ballroom, is a testament to the accuracy of her adopted title. This Wraith can disappear anywhere, no matter the surroundings. Her gaze is focused on Anika and, for a second, I see something like jealousy flash across her features. Kaz turns away from Anika before Inej's expression can gain any more rationale. As I approach, the object on his arm grows clearer and I make out another suit.

"Did you stop to pick up some laundry?" I ask, although the jibe isn't meant to be answered. It's then that I notice that what appeared disheveled is actually soaking wet. Another appraisal and then:

"What happened to you? We thought you were dead." Anika looks about ready to pass out. I need to be passing out. I'm too tired to figure out all the unsaid intricacies right now.

"We had to make a few stops." Completely cryptic, as usual.

"Is that-" I can tell Anika is growing more than a little vexed at this point. "Did you pick up a new suit?" I can already tell Kaz has no intention of answering. "Where did you even- What, did you buy one on the way here?" Kaz is clearly finished listening to her babble.

"You know I don't buy things, Anika."

"You robbed some poor person's store in the middle of this mess?" I consider Wylan's words with a mild amount of surprise and confusion. This is Kaz. There's a reason he's nicknamed Dirtyhands and it's not because he enjoys gardening.

"Looted. I think the appropriate term is looted," I correct.

"They won't be needing it. Customers are going to be in short supply until further notice."

"And that makes it better?" When did Wylan start thinking it was a good idea to argue morality with Kaz? Kaz cuts off the questioning with one of his deadpan looks that encompasses the entirety of his disinterest. Wylan finds enough sense to silence himself although I can tell he's doing so grudgingly. Sometimes, it amazes me that we're together. We are so different in so many ways; our pasts are like opposite sides of the moon. Still, those differences have led to a lot of growth, for both of us. Some days, it's so difficult, it seems impossible we'll ever see eye-to-eye. Then, somehow, we find common ground.

My musings upon our inexplicably successful relationship are abruptly ended when several of our guests push past me to converge on Kaz. They surround him like a bunch of birds around breadcrumbs. I fall back, grateful to find a way to exit the interaction without actually having to finish it. I pull on Wylan's hand but he still seems preoccupied with the people pushing past us.

"Let's go to sleep. Or at least, to bed." Even my very thinly-veiled allusion to our frequent nocturnal pursuits doesn't avert his attention.

"Where will he sleep?" I look at Wylan with confusion.

"What?"

"Where is Kaz going to sleep? He's our friend. We need to make sure he has a good room."

Are we seriously discussion this right now? "Kaz will find himself somewhere to sleep."

"He's being mobbed."

"If you think Kaz can't make his way out of a situation as simple as this, you've clearly taken leave of your memories."

"It's not that. Kaz doesn't know the best rooms. He should have one with an office."

"Kaz knows all the rooms. You may recall he's broken into this house. Multiple times."

"He's our guest, Jes."

"May Inej's Saints help me." I shoulder my way past the first line of people. Kaz is holding court effectively, unsurprisingly. I catch his eye but he easily dismisses me. I roll my eyes. Why do you even care? I realize I don't. I'm only doing this to appease Wylan's overactive need to being a good host. Even so, I feel enough loyalty to his ridiculous ideals that I'm actually going to make sure Kaz has a nice room.

My life makes no sense. A wave of exhaustion hits me then. I almost stumble.

"Listen, people. All of you will move, now." The crowd parts before me in a surprising show of solidarity. I approach. I can feel Wylan close behind me.

"Kaz," he starts as soon as we get within reach. I'm glad he's taken the lead because I have absolutely no idea what to say at this juncture. Kaz raises an uninterested eyebrow.

"Would you care to follow me to your room? I know you're busy but it has an office. You can take care of business in there instead of having to stand in the middle of this ballroom." A withering look would probably be the best way to describe his expression. I'm simultaneously defensive and chastened, but mostly impressed with Wylan's ability to hold his own against such a stare.

"I think I can find somewhere to work, and sleep, by myself." It occurs to me then that perhaps Kaz doesn't want everyone to know where he'll be sleeping. He chose the highest room in the Slat for more than just preference. It certainly wasn't for his own ease of access. It's significantly more difficult for people to catch you unawares when there are fewer entrances; unless you meld into shadows and scale a roof like the Wraith, that is.

Wylan accepts defeat and retreats. I grab his hand. "Can we please go the bed now?" I plead, attempting to look as pathetic as I feel. With a sigh, he follows me up the stairs.