"What's up, you two?" Crimson asked them from below. "Am I interrupting anything?"

The wicked twin's sudden return instantly sapped any and all semblance of friendliness from the air. Scrunching her nose and brows, Clover gently scooped Mort into her arms, and cradling him off her shoulder, put him down on the floor.

"Get inside, Mort. You don't need to see this," she muttered. Yet the mouse lemur wouldn't leave her side; he was intent on being true to his word.

"No way, I'm staying right here!"

She didn't argue; after all, she was much too angry at her sister to hold back on unpleasantries. Anything he had in mind, he was free to express.

"Well, well, well, look who just decided to bless us with her presence..." she hissed sullenly at her sister once they were face to face, arms folded. "Didn't ya have better things to do, like, I dunno – finding some big, strong surfer hunk to give ya a good railing, if I recall? What happened; was he not good enough, or did you push him away too with your wonderful personality before you guys could get down to it?"

"Run your mouth all you want, sis; I'm not here to fight ya," Crimson purred; she seemed to have gotten over her rage fit, although she wasn't very cordial in her mannerisms. "All I want is to..." She let out a harsh grunt – clearly, she didn't feel comfortable about putting herself in this situation. "...Look, I just wanna apologize for what happened back there. I didn't mean to yell or push ya; I wanted to tell you so, but I couldn't bring myself to. Y'know how bad I am with that kinda stuff." Then she peeked over Clover's shoulder, into the cabin that was now abuzz with life and music, her awestruck eyes widening like she were laying them on it for the first time. "Whoa... Looks like there's been some new developments while I was gone... Say, why don't we go in and see what the fuss is all about, and talk this out over a couple drinks?"

But her sister just kept staring at her with disgust – the way she was speaking, she made this farcical attempt at regret sound halfway credible – yet Clover wouldn't fall for it this time. "Hm, trying to get on my good side again, are we? Well, tough luck, cherry-pie; I don't want your stupid apologies! I'm going home."

And she shoved Crimson aside and began walking away – only for the other twin to run down ahead, and obstruct the way by outstretching her arms to the sides, attaching herself solid to either handrail. "Nuh-uh! You ain't going anywhere till we've settled this!"

"Move, dammit!" Clover threatened. She didn't have time for this. She tried several times to get by her, but no matter what she did, Crimson was capable of perfectly copying her movements – up or down, left or right, around and around. It was like staring into a mirror, both instances of the same image moving with one another in flawless synchrony. "Step aside, for Frank's sake; I'm not playing around!"

"Oh, really?" her sibling calmly called her bluff. "What ya gonna do? You gonna hit me? Push me? Break that glass over my head? I know you won't. So either ya talk to me, or the both of us are gonna be here a looong while – 'cause much like you, Clo-Clo, I can be as stubborn as a bloody mule."

And she was right. The only way Crimson was going to cede was via excessive force, yet the bodyguard, as much as she wanted to raise her remaining fist, was still virtuous enough to take the high road. Therefore, she wordlessly stepped back – and before any of the other two lemurs could react, she grabbed hold of the left handrail, and vaulted over it. The fall was only a few short feet; she landed elegantly upon the sand, spilling hardly a drop from the glass. Not a second later, she was crossing the beach in the jungle's direction.

Crimson and Mort ran down the boardwalk after her. Although she wasn't in much of a hurry, Clover was not to be stopped; she just powered onward despite Crimson's continuous attempts to jump in her path, pull her back, or catch her attention whichever way she could. Nothing was able to get her to listen.

"Will you please quit acting like a baby and think this through?! I'm sorry, okay – what more d'you want me to say?!"

"I don't want ya to say anything; bugger off!"

A particularly devious idea, however, came to her when she witnessed Clover taking another sip of her water. As soon as she had the chance, she skipped over – and slapped the glass right out of her hand. The bodyguard gasped and finally came to a halt as the container tumbled through the air, strewing its contents all over the sand before it thumped down a couple feet away. Mort immediately rushed to it in order to gauge whether it could be saved, but to no one's surprise, every drop of water had already dissipated without a trace. The few ice cubes that he could find, muddied by sand and warmed by the intense heat, started melting just as quickly, soon sharing the former's fate.

All he came out with was a dirty, empty glass, which he dejectedly held between his tiny fingers. Then he frowned and cast his glare up to the one responsible – yet both sisters were too absorbed staring at each other to notice him.

Clover, for her part, still had her hand open, as though unable to process there was nothing there anymore. Slowly, she curled it into a mighty fist...

"YOU FILTHY-

"Ah ah ah!" Crimson held a finger to the crooked lips of her irascible twin. "Now that I've got ya where I wanted, sister-girl, let's talk."

Clover irately smacked her hand away. "You and I got nothing to talk about! I am done with you – and don't ya think that just 'cause you're 'apologizing' now, I'm going to forgive you! I know you don't even mean a word of it; ya ain't sorry in the slightest!"

"Oh c'mon, why d'you always gotta blow everything outta proportion; it was just a harmless lil' push! No different from when you used to throw me off the top bunk of our bed every time we wrestled as kids – and that was a hard, wooden floor! You didn't see me crying back then!"

"And who pulled you off that floor right after to make sure you weren't hurt, huh?" she retorted, the echo of brighter days only pushing her more towards total anguish. "Yeah, thought so! But that's okay; it's 'bout damn time I opened my eyes and stopped deluding myself into believing we ever had a chance of becoming something more than glorified strangers! From now on, we're gonna do things my way – and my way involves me going home, and you staying right where you are!" With these words, she took several steps back. "Oh, and since I've memorized my dance routine already, don't bother showing up tomorrow, or the next day for that matter! I'll do everything else on my own, as I should've done from the start!"

"Your own? Even the makeover?" Crimson raised her brows, laughing on the inside, but keeping a straight face.

"Yes! There's a few other women I can ask to help me out with that, like Dorothy, or Tammy – or hell, even Xixi would be a better option than you! She may not be a lemur, but she does know a thing or two 'bout cosmetics, and she'd sure as hell treat me much better than you have so far! Why, I'm so over ya I would ask Becca before enduring the sight of you another minute!"

Crimson gasped. "You'd ask Becca? Becca?! Seriously? Wow, sis, the fact that you're comparing my talents to those of an uneducated, inbred yokel stings! And what 'bout the dress, by the way? How are ya gonna find one that suits ya in less than two days' time, hm?"

"I don't know! I'll get one somehow – don't care from who or from where – but I most definitely am not borrowing it from you! Just thinking of having to wear the same garb as someone as slimy and repulsive as you makes me wanna retch!"

"You go through with that, sis, and it's game over," the red twin stated, shrugging off her sister's hurtful tirade, "Y'know you need me, whether either of us likes it or not – now I'm giving us another chance to start over, and you don't wanna take it? Is your ego really that inflated?"

It's not-!" The orange one quietened herself; there was no point arguing about any of this. "Look, just go away – go get yourself laid or whatever the hell it is ya like to do 'round here and forget about me! I'm out!"

Mort, who'd been sitting on the sand, listening to their bickering all the while, suddenly reached out to them. "Um, girls, am I allowed to have a say on this?"

As if struck by the same idea, both women turned to him at once, their voices united for a succint, "NO!"

"You better leave us alone before I squash you like a bug, ya bloody pint-sized twat!" Crimson snarled down at him, further aggravating Clover.

"Don't you talk to him that way!"

"Have him mind his own business then! The hell is he doing here anyway?!"

"I'm here 'cause Clover is very disappointed in you, lady!" the mouse lemur bravely spat back anyway – unlike his female friend, he had zero reservations about voicing the full extent of his thoughts. He'd had enough of staying on the sideline, watching her suffer at the hands of someone who wasn't even worthy of the attention. "In fact, we all are! Ever since you joined us, you've been nothing but an awful thorn in our side, causing trouble everywhere you go! Now, some people in this group might've given you an excuse to treat them poorly – but Clover?! What has she ever done to deserve being dragged through the mud like this?! Nothing, I say! Really, you should've seen her at Club Xanadu, back when you weren't around; how sad she was because she loves you so much and you don't love her at all!" Ignoring Clover's flustered look, he leveled an accusatory finger against Crimson. "And you dare call yourself the last remaining member of her family! Bah! You should be ashamed of yourself! If she weren't here right now, I'd jump up there and slap you in the face myself for being such an awful excuse for a sister!"

"Mort, it's okay-

"No! No, it's not okay! You gotta stop telling everyone it's okay!" He briefly took his eyes off the red twin to shake his head at Clover. "Seriously, Crimson, how do you sleep at night knowing you're like this? Don't you ever stop and think that maaaybe there's a reason you don't have any real friends, and that the only people who ever bother to hang out with you are boys you don't even learn the names of half the time? Heh, I'd bet my whole tree stump that that bartender guy from the Bay only talks to you 'cause he pities you, or 'cause he hopes he can get a date out of you!" He paused to catch his breath, at the same time lowering his voice. "And you know, it is very sad that you can't form long-lasting relationships with anybody if you ask me, but after seeing how you keep treating the only person who gives a damn about you, I'm starting to believe it's the only thing you actually enjoy – which is even worse! We should all be so lucky to have a sibling to rely on when life gets tough... It's such a shame you can't seem to understand just how privileged you are. It would've been so cool for me to have one, but my parents thought that having me was bad enough, so now I gotta make do with the voices up here sometimes," he added matter-of-factly, tapping on his temple.

The girls stared at him with mixed expressions. Clover was rather astonished at the eloquence with which he'd been able to put things she'd never say to her sister's face herself into words, while the woman in question seemed even more appalled that he'd had the gall to speak to her so audaciously. As was the case with most lemurs who didn't know him on a deeper level, Crimson considered him a simplistic ignoramus of low intellect, so hearing such a well-informed assessment from him came as quite the blow, even if at the end of the day, she couldn't care less about his opinion.

The way she was looking at him, though, like a hungry predator sizing up its next meal, was so unnerving that Clover had to step in between them, shielding Mort from a potential attack – which never came. His hefty rant had stirred something up inside Crimson. For a short moment, spending the night with a man didn't sound as appealing as it had until now... but then she brushed off the concern, and thought no more of it. Who was that clod to judge her anyway?

"...Well, thanks for the input. Glad you got that off your chest." That was all she had to say to him. "Now, sis... can I just talk to ya for a minute? Just one – please." Tilting her head, she shot a glare at Mort, whose body remained partway hidden behind Clover's legs. "In private, if possible."

The two friends exchanged glances. After much deliberation, she reluctantly nodded at him.

"I'll be by the shore if you need me," he muttered as he wandered away, pointing to his eyes, and then to Crimson's, "but watch it – I'm keeping my sights on you."

Once he'd left far enough, Clover crossed her arms, a new fearsome scowl besetting her face. "You have one minute. Don't waste it."

"Alright..." Crimson exhaled. "Look, Clo-Clo, I know you're, like, super mad at me. And yeah, you have every right to. I'm not being the best coach I could."

"That's putting it lightly!"

"Would ya mind?"

The bodyguard shook her head to herself – she was wondering what kind of otherwordly powers were compelling her to listen to a single word more of this nonsense.

"C'mon, y'know I've got no beef with ya; the only person I'm angry at right now is Julien! Okay?" the bad twin exclaimed, "What happened at the cove was an accident – nothing more, nothing less, I swear! I just lost it for a second and lashed out at the closest thing without thinking; I would've never touched ya otherwise!"

"Then why didn't you tell me?! You could've at least said something!" Clover shouted back, her eyes swollen with sorrow. "A simple 'sorry' would've been enough – but of course, the concept of apologizing, let alone meaning it, is completely alien to ya. Well, that's alright; you can keep it. Hell, you can choke on it till your face turns blue – see if I care!"

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you bloody don't! Follow your own advice; stop thinking with your heart and start thinking with your head!"

The sixty seconds were up; Clover had counted them. She turned around without answering, yet before she could leave, Crimson skipped over, then gripped her by the wrists. She was met with swift, albeit surprisingly limp resistance. "I am a shitty person, Clo-Clo – you're absolutely right, and I own up to that fact. I'm selfish, and reckless, and irresponsible, and amoral, and all those things everyone and their mother has always scolded me for. And I've done way too many things that no sister worth a damn should've done. But you said it yourself – we're together now, and together we must stay if we are to pull through this and kick Pam where the sun don't shine."

Clover ceased struggling and just stared away, down at their hands which lay so close to each other's.

"...I just want to get along with you..." she whispered, so thinly her voice was nearly lost in the breeze.

"And I wanna get along with you too! What, ya think I'm happy with the way things are right now?"

She looked up, but didn't say anything. As if YOU weren't the cause for that...

"Listen, I'm... I'm sorry for yelling at ya this morning too. Even if you don't care or believe me, just let me put it out there. That's really all I can do; I – I dunno what else I can tell you to make you forgive me." A thick, lengthy silence ensued; Crimson practically had to kick herself in the rear to continue. "Please, gimme one last chance. I promise I'll try my best to be good to you; ya have my permission to punch me if I misbehave at any point," she added with a rueful smile.

Her only acknowledgment was more silence. She shook Clover's wrists, fearing it would be too late to make amends.

"Well, c'mon! Say something!"

"...You don't deserve any more chances," her bodyguard twin blurted out suddenly; her voice was clear and strong again and full of vigor, and Crimson held her breath. "For most of our lives, I've been giving you more than I probably should have, and time after time, the only thing you've done is spit 'em back in my face. You're right on one thing yourself – I don't trust you, or believe in you, or think for even a second that you're being this nice again outta the goodness of your heart. And I do not forgive you. I just don't have the will in me anymore." Then she took a deep, deep breath. "But... you are my sister, for better or worse... and regardless of how frequently we may butt heads, nothing's ever gonna change that." Hell, I guess I do never learn...

This reply was precisely what Crimson wanted to hear. Sprouting a grin that Clover found quite simply repugnant, she spread her arms outward in an initiative resembling some kind of reconciliatory hug – it would be the first one the sisters would've shared in, at the very least, several years. "Sooo... friends?"

Clover only gave her a look, before nudging past her. "Don't even think about it."

The other twin lowered her arms, shrugging as she turned to follow. It was no big loss anyway. She'd gotten what she wanted, and that was all that mattered.

"Come on, Mo-Mo, you sure aren't up for another one?"

King Julien poked his advisor on the arm; he was still trying to hound him into ordering another drink to improve the mood. The aye-aye hadn't had a sip of his piña colada since Clover's departure; now all he could think about was how everything seemed to be going up in flames around them. On the other hand, the king was about done with his replacement Mai Tai, and he did not want to continue drinking alone. Since it was just the two of them now, and Maurice wasn't much in the mood for it either, conversation had been kept to a minimum as well.

However, it eventually irritated him enough to watch Julien sit there with his feet on the table, straw in mouth, lazy eyes to the ceiling without seemingly a care, that he just had to say something.

"How can you be so calm after what happened? Aren't you concerned about Clover?"

"Of course I am, you dope; how can you even think I'm not?" Julien replied as though the question angered him. "Me drinking's got nothing to do with that. I just don't wanna keep feeling this way, all guilty and depressed and whatnot, like we've been the whole day. Getting drunk just so happens to be the fastest way to get rid of the bad mojo."

"Ugh, now you're starting to sound like Xixi. What you really should do is talk to Clover next time you see her; tell her this has gone on long enough. All this hell she's being put through isn't worth it, Your Majesty. That trophy isn't worth it, and neither is Pam! If she wins... well, so what? I'm sure we can track her down and get it back if we play our cards right."

"And risk another fight? Be real, Mo-Mo. Besides, you must remember that's not up to me – if Clo-Clo wants to call it quits, she will... but we both know she won't with Pam in the fold. She'd rather die before surrendering victory to that tramp. No, what I am going to do is have another good, long talk with Crimson first thing in the morning. She's getting way out of line again."

Maurice lifted a puzzled brow at him. "What do you mean by 'another' talk?"

His king blinked at him, as though he didn't (or, more accurately, pretended not to) know what the aye-aye was asking him – he'd completely forgotten he hadn't actually told anyone about that pact he'd made with Crimson. He wasn't sure whether he should do it now.

"Oh, nothing. Just a... a few words we exchanged, she and I," he explained nonchalantly, as he resumed drinking. Yet it was obvious to his right-hand man that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

"I know that look, Your Majesty. What is it? I'm not gonna be mad if you've done something dumb; it's not like things can get much worse than they are already."

Julien sighed; this assertion instilled some confidence in him. Maurice could always be entrusted with secrets. "Remember that break we took today during rehearsals?" The aye-aye nodded. "Well, I used that time to have a sort of, uh, conference with Crimson, and tell her how I felt about her trashy behavior. Let's just say I told her there would be... consequences unless she started treating Clo-Clo better. It apparently did work – for a while... but then of course, this is Crimson we're talking about. Being insufferable is business as usual for her. It's like it's in her blood."

Maurice continued nodding reflexively. "So, the only reason she started being decent out of the blue was 'cause you scared her into it? Hm, that doesn't surprise me. Though I would've thought she was doing it 'cause she'd realized herself how wrong she was, or at the very least 'cause she did feel a tad sorry."

"Oh yeah, she feels sorry, alright. Sorry that she wasn't able to wring my neck right before she dumped us."

The royal advisor shrugged, but said nothing more. He fully understood why Julien would do such a thing, even if he would've done it differently. According to his more benevolent nature, he would've rather opted to carefully help foster and nurture the sisterly love he believed Crimson kept locked somewhere deep inside of her, like a withered flower blossoming back to life... only it seemed he'd never get the chance to realize that plan. Not that it mattered anymore.

All of a sudden, Julien took his feet off the table, and stood from his chair. He didn't feel like talking about this anymore – and luckily for him, he had the perfect excuse to stop: his Mai Tai was empty. Regardless of the fact that Mort's wasn't (it was right where the mouse lemur had left it: on his side of the table, two thirds of the way full), he pivoted himself towards the crowded bar, wishing to escape the entrapment the current line of inquiry posed to him.

"Anyway, I'm, uh, I'm gonna get myself another drink; see what else they have lying around the shelves. You still sure you don't want one?" he asked.

Maurice waved him off. "For the last time, no. And try not to overdo it yourself either; I can already imagine you ending up like that one night at the Xanadu and I'm not willing to go through something like that again. Much less now that Clover's not here to help."

Julien chuckled in remembrance. "Don't worry – if I make another mess, I won't pin the blame on you. I'll pin it on Mort this time," he joked as he walked away. Maurice blew a humorless huff through his nose.

"Hmph. I'm sure he'll be honored."

And so, the aye-aye was left on his own to take in the scene around him. In spite of all, at least he was happy this ailing establishment had managed to turn itself around, though it was yet to be seen whether it would last. He certainly hoped so; he liked the place quite a lot and wouldn't mind at all coming back another time. It was no wonder Crimson was fond of it. If only that woman weren't so darned pugnacious, they could all have been enjoying a fine enough night right now...

But alas, this was where they were at, and there was little he could do except mope about it...

...So that was what he did. He occasionally tapped his feet to the groove of the latest reggae number, or smiled superfluously at people as they shuffled by, yet he mostly stared out the window, thinking of the absent twins, when a few minutes later, a sharp knock rang to his left. When he turned his head to look, he noticed an unwashed glass had promptly spawned on the table; Maurice thought someone must've dumped it there as a prank, and was about to call them out for it – until he saw the broader picture. Two pairs of eyes, one green, one blue, were standing tall over him, and just as he opened his mouth to gasp, Mort reappeared, too, his big-eyed head popping over the table's edge as he jumped and smiled with glee.

"Look who's back, Maurice, look who's back!"

"Girls?" The royal advisor had to blink twice to ensure his eyesight wasn't deceiving him. "I... I thought-

"Well, you thought wrong," Clover stated rather rudely, "She and I have agreed to have one last go at this."

"Wait. S – seriously?"

"Don't ask. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Uh, nope! King Julien's gone booze-hunting – but don't worry, I'm keeping tabs on him," he said, maintaining silence on what he'd just discussed with the king. A wry smirk showed itself at the other twin's evident shock; Crimson couldn't stop glancing around the room with a look of absolute wonder on her face, as though she had the hardest time recognizing this as the same ghost town she'd grown so used to all these months.

"Just what on earth's happened here?!" she demanded to know.

"You can thank your sister for making this possible," Maurice replied with a tone of derision – he wasn't joshing there. "All it took was a rage-fueled smackdown on that faulty old jukebox followed by some timely music, and this joint is pulling in crowds that'd make a bunch of mainstream clubs we know blush."

Mort giggled at that. "Yep! We lemurs sure do love our tunes!"

"Unbelievable..." Crimson twin purred impishly as she glanced at her sibling. "Who knew you could be useful for something after all?"

The bodyguard growled at her with balled fists and gritted teeth; Crimson stuck her hands up in a pacifying manner. "Kidding! Kidding! C'mon, grow a sense of humor, ya damn party pooper! We did come here to have some good-natured fun, didn't we?"

"Make another 'joke' like that, and the only bit of fun you're gonna have is me crushing your windpipe."

And just then, His Majesty returned, brandishing a smile and a new cocktail in one hand, and a plate in the other. "Hey, Mo-Mo, get a load of this! Caramelized pineapple, courtesy of the hou-

The moment he laid eyes on the women gathered around the table, however, the words froze in his throat. The bulk of his attention was on Crimson – with a single forbidding look, he was able to communicate to her that he was one push away from heavily punishing her for her transgressions. Everybody else noticed this, too, though Clover just attributed it to him being mad about the drink incident.

She straightened up and looked at him firmly – she was going to fix that right now. "Your Majesty, my sister has something to tell ya," she announced, giving Crimson a slight shove forward. "Well, go on! Tell him!" she barked at her.

Her twin understood completely what Clover wanted from her, but she wouldn't breathe a word. She just stood between the two lemurs, flicking resentful glares back and forth at each, obviously resenting them both for subjecting her to such humiliation. She wasn't going to apologize to Julien – not for this, not for anything, ever. Why should she give him that pleasure when he'd never shown any remorse or lent her any compassion for what he'd done to her?

"Crimson," Clover muttered close to her ear, "you asked me for another chance. Well, here it is. If you really wanna start anew with me, this is the first step to achieve it; otherwise, I'm gone. Your choice."

Damn you...! she cursed furiously in her mind. Yet knowing there was no alternative, she resorted to playing along. Swallowing, she faced the king, and hung her head – not out of respect, but because she did not want to indulge that traitor by looking him in the eye.

"...I... I'm..."

"Yes?" Julien left his food on the table, then lowered his head, searching her eyes even though she kept them glued to the floor. He was entertaining this soulless caricature of an apology (if he could even call it that) only because Clover was so hellbent on it; if she weren't standing right there, he would've simply ordered the staff on duty to throw Crimson outside without so much as a qualm.

So he waited. And waited. And waited. Crimson refused to speak to him. Eventually, enough time passed that Julien emitted an audible "hmph" as he tiredly rolled his eyes, and then left for his chair, snapping his fingers toward the exit. "Clo-Clo, please escort your sis out of here, if you don't mind. I don't have time for her kiddie games; I got a banana daiquiri with my name written on it and I'd like to get back to that."

Clover didn't move. Perhaps if she gave Crimson a few more seconds, she would snap out of her stupor.

"Clo-Clo, didn't you hear? Please get her out of here, now," he repeated, and she, though crushed with disappointment, must obey. Yet the moment the king's ex-fiancée sensed her sister was about to grab her, she forced it all out at once.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted loudly – an extremely false, bitter plea, unquestionably not from the heart. Julien cocked his head at her, eyebrows raised low above bemused eyes; he left the table and came back to her.

"Oh, what's that? You're what?"

"Sorry! I'm s – s – sorry for throwing that... drink at ya! And... f – for insulting ya! Won't happen again!" she babbled out, seething and damning and biting her tongue with every letter spoken. It was only when she was able to keep her voice from breaking that she lifted her gaze for all to see; her eyes were full of anger, shame, and indignation. "Satisfied?"

The royal brought a hand to his chin. "Hmmm, let me think... Sure, why not? That's gotta be the nicest thing you've said to me since our glory days, babe."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your babe anymore."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

And as he went to give his bodyguard a proper greeting, he whispered to her in passing, "Just remember where your place is. You don't wanna keep pushing it." Then he immediately shone a wide, beaming smile, and placed his arms tightly around Clover; she looked like she could use some love. "Oh, welcome back, Clo-Clo, welcome back! Man, am I glad to see you – 'cause I do hope this visit wasn't just, you know, for that! ...Was it?"

"Well, Crimson and I have talked it out, more or less," the crowned lemur replied, awkwardly hugging him back. Suddenly, she noticed Crimson was staring at the two of them rather strangely, as though it upset her to see them this way, and she broke apart from the king almost as soon as she'd touched him. "Er, we've decided we're gonna try this again, you see? I know I'm just being incredibly daft and borderline idiotic again, but if there's even the smallest chance she and I can actually pull this off... I guess I'll just have to keep falling for it, no matter how many times it comes back to bite me in the buns."

Julien howled like these were the greatest news he'd received all week; having her here with him brightened his soul like a warm stroke of sunshine, making him forget what ill will he'd harbored. "Ah Clo-Clo, you're way too good to me. Come take a seat – more drinks and snacks will be here shortly, if I have anything to say about it, ha ha!"

And he gallantly walked her to her seat, whereupon he returned to his – however, Crimson didn't seem nearly as enthused over sharing a table with either of them again. It would be a while before she'd be able to get over what her sister had just made her do, so when Clover pulled up the still-empty chair beside her and beckoned her to retake it, all she could say was no.

"I'll be at the bar, sis. Hit me up there if you need anything," were her only words before she disappeared into the crowd.

"Crimson?" Clover almost went after her, but she didn't – it occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea how to actually go on about this. What was she going to say? What would she do? Where to even start? She was nervous enough already that just thinking of these things frightened her half to death – but now there was no turning back. It had to be done.

Her friends obviously didn't fail to see the look of unrest on her face.

"Clover, I can leave if that'll make your sis more comfortable," Julien told her. "I'm just gonna keep getting in the way if I stay. I'll finish up my daiquiri real quick and go."

"Hell no, Your Majesty. I need ya here – all of ya. I can't do this without your help."

"Don't know what to do, huh?" Maurice inferred with a kind smile. "Well, worry not; help's exactly what we're here for, remember?" He looked around himself. There were a lot of men in the cabin; too many to mention. Knowing Crimson, there was no time to waste. "Okay, um, my first word of advice – you should go to her now, before she gets bored of waiting. With these many toned dudes fresh off the sea hanging around, it's only a matter of time before she sees something she likes – and then you can forget about winning her back."

Clover seemed to agree. "Got it, but how do I do it?"

"How about you start by dropping that stance?" Mort chimed in, "I mean, look at your shoulders, and that neck! Heh, no offense, but you look like you're trying to hold in a number-two or something. If you are to get anywhere, you're gonna have to ease up on that first."

Clover began feeling around her neck; indeed, the tendons in it were jutting out so prominently she could pinch them each through the fur and skin. She had to make a conscious effort to relax them, and as she did, the line of her shoulders fell as well.

"Good!" The mouse lemur gave her a thumbs-up. "Now smile and adjust your pose – keep your back straight – as if you were acting naturally."

She complied – with varying degrees of success. "Okay... What now?"

"Try to build rapport by buying Crimson a drink," Maurice advised her next, "You can earn extra brownie points if it's something she really enjoys. Do you know what her favorites are?"

Clover nodded. "'Course I do. She loves pretty much everything as long as it packs a punch, but she goes wild over vodka and brandy. There was this one hooch in particular called a... damn, what was it? Mango, mango what? Or was it papaya...? Mojito...? Gods, it's been so long since we did anything together I can't remember the name."

"Mango martini?" Julien prodded.

"Yes! That's the one!"

Her king smirked and lobbed a pineapple slice into his mouth. "Had to be; that's what she liked to order the most whenever she and I went out to places like this. It's a surprisingly straightforward recipe; should be pretty easy to put together."

She uneasily hunched her shoulders. "Hm... I guess. She does prefer it dressed with lots of sugar and jackfruit slices – which shouldn't be much of an issue – but then there's one other thing: she won't settle for anything that isn't one hundred percent top-shelf liquor. Trust me, she'll know if it isn't. Now, if this place does have such high-quality stuff, they're for sure not gonna hand it over to the first pleb who asks. Business is business, after all."

"So?" Maurice asked. "I don't see where the problem is; you're the royal protector. Nobody's gonna deny you anything, especially not these folks now that you've become an even bigger savior to them."

"Well, yeah, I suppose..." Clover glanced across the room; she could catch momentary glimpses of her sister every time a gap unfurled in the crowd. "Only... Crimson's sitting right there, and... uhhh..."

"You're too shy to go yourself."

"Yeah," she admitted, her cheeks blushing a deep red.

"Which is where I come in," Julien declared with a smug grin. "I'll just order the barman to give us his entire stock – for free. If he doesn't want to, I'll have him sent to the brig for disruption of royal affairs. Easy."

Maurice frowned. "Or you can just ask him for the ingredients we need. I assure you he won't refuse."

Then he refocused on his bodyguard. "Let's do this, okay?" He swept his hand over the table, pointing to her, himself, and Mort. "The three of us can keep Crimson distracted while King Julien does the rest. Try talking to her about anything that comes to mind. It doesn't matter what; all we want is to get her attention away from that bar. If they don't have the drink she likes or anything similar, well... we'll figure something out. In the meantime, just smile, be cool, and keep your wits about you – and most importantly, be patient! It'll take time to break through that tough shell of hers. We don't want you throwing chairs or blowing up eardrums at the first mean thing she says."

Clover guiltily looked away.

"And don't be so fearful, alright?" His Majesty added last, "She's your sister, not a job interviewer. Half the work's already done."

"Right..." Inhaling sharply, she turned herself towards the bar, and rose on bristled, unsteady legs. She was so nervous she thought her thrumming heart might just give out inside her chest – which, given what she was about to do, wasn't an entirely unwanted outcome. "Here goes nothing."

Her friends stood with her as she readied herself to open what could be the gateway to a beautiful brand-new start, or the disastrous coda to a dissonant relationship. Next to her, Julien was already smirking and rubbing his hands like a scamp; he was confident they'd manage to pull this off... and in the case they didn't, he could always remind Crimson why he wasn't called king for nothing. With a simple official decree, he could make it so that tonight would be the last time she'd be allowed anywhere within a mile-wide radius of this alehouse whose shelter she seemed to depend so much on... and then some. Either way, there was something to gain.

"Alright, ladies and gents..." he murmured to his three companions, "'Operation: Building Bridges' is a go."