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Lorne walked onto the stage, carrying his guitar. He didn't usually perform outside Caritas, but the Pylean needed to vent, and he didn't want to risk depressing his clientele.
"How's everyone doing tonight?" he asked, "Good to know. I'd like to play a little tune for you guys, um, it's a little something I've been working on. It's called…"
Lorne paused mid-sentence.
"…Cordy and Fred. I, um, wrote it about these girls I once knew."
Lorne began to sing his song. His sang about two girls who journeyed to a big city. One was a egotistic girl, abandoned by her parents, and forced to make it on her own. The other was a naïve girl from a farm, who wanted to learn more about life. They each got into bad situations, and ended up being saved by a man who led them down a dark path. The ending line of the song implied that it didn't work out so well.
"Thank you," Lorne said
/
He adjourned to the bar.
"Seabreeze," he ordered
"What's that?" the bartender asked
"You don't know how to make a seabreeze?"
"No…"
"What you do is, fill a highball glass with ice cubes,"
"OK," the bartender nodded
"Then pour in vodka, cranberry juice, and…grapefruit juice over the ice."
The bartender gave Lorne an odd look, but made the drink anyway.
"Now stir it THREE times," Lorne added, "Then add a wedge of lime."
The bartender slid the drink over.
"Mm," Lorne took a drink, "You make a good seabreeze. But I recommend getting some freshly squeezed grapefruit juice in the house."
"I will. Um…just throwing this out there, but…are you a Demon?"
"Yeah," Lorne nodded
"Don't tell me…Fyarl?"
"Pylean."
"Oh. I thought you guys were all warriors?"
"Not this one. I'm sort of the black sheep of the family."
"Huh."
/
Lorne drank a few too many seabreezes, then headed back to Caritas II, and collapsed on his bed. He drunkenly slammed his hand on the answering machine.
"Hey Lorne, it's Angel. Two things, very important…"
Lorne slammed his hand on the delete button.
"Hey Lorne, Angel again. I forgot to tell you…"
Slam.
"Oh, Lorne, I almost forgot…"
Slam. Slam. Slam.
/
3AM…
/
Someone was ringing the doorbell. Reluctantly, Lorne pulled himself out of bed.
"OK, I'm coming…" he muttered, "Keep your hair on."
He opened up the door, revealing a woman in an expensive silk dress. She was very beautiful.
"Lorne?" Inara asked
"No. The Host," he corrected
"Sorry. But you are the singing fortune teller?"
"Guilty as charged."
"Can you read my aura?"
"I'm a little bit tired, can we do this tomorrow?"
"Actually, I only have a few hours before I have to leave for Osiris."
"Fine."
Lorne waited.
"Well?" he asked
"Oh, right, I have to sing…"
Inara paused.
"You're intentions are known, they've found out at last,
So if you're gonna take me, please make it fast…"
"Stop!" Lorne said, holding up a hand
"That bad?" Inara winced
"No, I got what I need. Please, come on in…"
/
Lorne gave Inara a glass of warm milk.
"So, Inara Serra, you're having conflicted feelings about your crush on the spaceman?"
Inara was surprised.
"Wow, you're good."
"Not really. Your song choice kind of gave it away."
"Choice? It was just the first song that came into my head."
"'I Lost My Heart to a Starship Trooper'?"
"Ma la ge bi. You got me."
"The thing is, Inara, you have to be patient with Mal. He's a good guy, he's just a bit rough. It'll work out, just try not to jump on him every time he makes a mistake."
"Okay."
"Also, don't get that haircut," Lorne said, "It makes you look like the leader of an alien invasion."
"Got it."
/
Inara left. Spike walked out of his room, in a black robe. He had changed in the years since he had gotten his soul; whilst he retained his youthful looks, he had mellowed out. His hair was still bleached, but it was messier, more relaxed.
"Hey Host, who was that?" Spike asked
"A companion," Lorne replied
"Urgh…" Spike shook his head, "You know, I hate that young girls look up to them. I'm working on a poem about it."
"Can't wait to hear it," Lorne smiled
/