A bell above the door jingled as they took a few steps into the diner.
Thom's focus went straight to the intimidatingly large man taking orders across the dining room.
Or at least he would have been, if there were any customers. Apparently no one wanted gyros this early in the morning.
"We don't let the boss cook." Aclassi cast a glance over his shoulder at the dark man laughing, as he stood by the front counter.
Cremisci, or Krem he'd insisted the two call him, had a higher voice than Rainier was expecting. He'd place his age around very late teens, or early twenties if pressed.
Anais leaned against the wall, looking comfortable around him. "Your dad's in the kitchen then?"
Aclassi's lip curled. "He's not my dad."
"Right. Is he in the kitchen though?"
"Yeah." Aclassi waved her off. Anais flounced off, slipping through the swinging double doors into the kitchen.
The sound of loud obscenities was heard from within soon after. A very angry looking man with a moustache stormed out. "Lock the door, we're closed."
"Does this mean you're going to help?" Anais called, as she pushed the doors to the kitchen open, following after him.
Thom looked at Krem, who was turning the closed sign over.
"You choose now of all times to call in a favor? For what, this unwashed oaf?" The moustached man gestured to Rainier. Thom rubbed at his unshaved face self consciously. "Hey!"
"It has nothing to do with him. He's just the muscle." Anais pleaded after him.
"No, he's the muscle." He gestured to his gigantic husband, who was locking the glass front door. "This one is a cop, isn't he? He stands like a cop. All business."
Thom shifted where he stood, his words making him even more self conscious.
Anais followed his gaze. "Yeah, but he's reliable."
"Reliable, pah. You brought a cop into this restaurant, and make me close early, so you can borrow my family?"
"You didn't have to close early, Dorian." The dwarf added, cheerfully.
He swore again, loudly. "Fine, you want to take them, take them."
"We can use you too. You know the law system better than most of us."
"She does have a point, Kadan." A deep voice rumbled from over by the front counter where Krem and the as of yet unnamed large man stood.
"Ah, all of you are terrible influences. I haven't even taken the bar exam yet." Dorian waved them off.
Thom made a face. "Is a lawyer even necessary?"
"You wouldn't know. A backup plan is always good."
He scoffed under his breath. "We won't need a backup plan."
Anais put her hands on her hips. "Okay, big guy. Does your plan account for any of us dying or getting arrested?"
Captain Rainier remained silent.
"That's what I thought." She snapped, before turning her attention to the others. "Look, what we need is some help fishing out that dirtbag Fius. I don't care how we take him down, but I'm not gonna rest til he's gone. The police aren't doing anything about it."
"And how do you know this guy killed Janeka?"
"I just do. She was getting too close to discovering whatever he was up to."
Thom glanced to Anais. "The police have a suspect in custody already. He's confessed and is awaiting trial."
"That doesn't mean he was alone in acting it out." Her tone was cold. "Big fuckers like this don't do all the dirty work themselves."
"I take it you have a plan then?" Krem spoke up. Everyone looked at him. "I mean, if we're doing this, we need a plan."
"What brings you out so late?" Varric turned his gaze to the woman beside him in the backseat. Her legs were crossed at the ankle, distracting him with the lean musculature.
"Work." She responded simply, following his gaze, before looking up at him.
"Well, shit, don't overwhelm me with descriptions." Tethras joked.
"I… am sorry. I'm not the best at pretending to be polite for the sake of conversation."
"Hey. Don't worry about it. I was kidding." He glanced out the window at the city lights they passed. "I'm Varric Tethras, by the way."
"Cassandra Pentaghast." She clasped his hand for a brief moment.
"No shit, you're the Cassandra Pentaghast?" Varric smiled a little wider. Maybe this night wasn't going to be as bad as he anticipated; this meant a story in the making. "Out slumming with the rest of us?"
"In the flesh." She answered dryly. "And I was, in fact, working. As I said before."
"Shit, does your uncle know you're "working"?"
"Not like that." She frowned. The little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were charming in a way when she did that. "I was searching for information."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, "Information about..?"
"If you must know, about my brother."
Varric fell silent. He knew what it was like to lose a sibling, and the fact that this one was in the public eye, meant it was no less painful. Bartrand's death was still a raw wound despite the years between. Tethras could still see the scene of the purposeful overdose he stumbled across years before, in his mind's eye.
Anthony Pentaghast, however, was missing. Kidnapped, probably. The nephew of a famous Mortalitasi would garner a ridiculously large ransom, except there was never any contact from the culprits. It had been only a year. Varric covered the first few days of the search on his blog, but slowly, as these things often do, it faded from the public's attention. It must have still hurt.
"Shit, I'm sorry I said anything." He finally admitted.
"No, its.. alright." Cassandra looked away. "There were no new leads. Haven't been for a while."
"Want to get a drink with me? To make up for the shitty attitude." Tethras offered.
"I don't usually drink." She settled beside him against the cracked leather seat. "If something were to happen if I was drunk–"
"It'll be fine. I'm sure the Hanged Man has milk if you're really that worried."
That got a flash of a smile, before her brow furrowed once more. "No, I… I'll drink with you."
"You know, after the first forty eight hours, the police tend to let up searching, 'cause they figure the missing person is dead."
He knew from experience. Bartrand had been declared missing after missing several days of work and then, nothing. Varric had found him in a hotel room, after getting a tip from the front desk.
"It's like some twisted game of hide and seek. He was always good at that. Hiding." Pentaghast frowned into her rum and coke, listening to him intently. She sat upright, mouth pressed into a grief stricken line. "He's alive. I know he is."
"Alright, seeker. If he's alive, how come nobody knows where he is?"
"He has money. If he wanted to disappear he could."
"You were close to him, weren't you?" Varric finished his drink, swallowing hard. "Why would he vanish without telling you where he went?"
She didn't have an answer for him.
Tethras went on, swirling the ice in his empty glass; "If he's found, and he's not… alive, then what will you do?"
She focused on him, lifting her drink to her lips with an absent flourish. "Keep living. It's the best i could do for him, for his memory."
"Maybe its best he's not found. It'll keep you searching, give you something to do." He gave her a little smile.
Cassandra returned the smile with some difficulty, before tossing her drink back.
"How about you go all out with your slumming, then?" He asked, casually joking with her as if they weren't just talking about lost siblings. "Get your living done right now, when you have the time."
Her pained facade cracked a little more, showing a scowl hiding a smile. "How will I do that?"
"My room's upstairs."
"Hm." She considered it for a moment. "Are you married, Mr. Tethras?"
He laughed, and looked at her. "Hell no. Single and ready to not mingle, right here."
Admittedly she did find his company a nice change to guards and the help. He made her laugh too. That was a difficult task. Losing Anthony had hardened her heart. "Lead the way."