Chapter Text
Owen scowled at the speakeasy, raging around him. He always hated when Scott dragged him to these things, it was too loud and everyone wanted to sing and dance and be far too close to him. Disgusting.
He skulked around the corners of the bar instead, scowling at the patrons getting drunk and having a good time. Standing in one of the alcoves near the back, passing a cigar and whiskey between them, Scott and Abolish were murmuring to one another and watching the bar as well. Scott waved coyly as he passed, grinning through his lashes. Owen scowled at him and kept walking.
He finally spotted a face he wanted to see through the crowd, and shoved between people to reach Legs. The older man was lingering around the edges, fiddling awkwardly with his cuffs. Owen grabbed him by the elbow, clinging tight to his side. Legs’ face turned much more relieved when he appeared, smiling down.
“Hi,” He mumbled, glancing at the flow of people around them, “I’ve never really been to one of these things before.” Owen hummed, leaning into his shoulder.
“A speakeasy?” He asked with a slight smile. Legs huffed.
“I guess.”
Owen laughed under his breath.
“Shelby will be on soon, you’ll like that.” He said, glancing up at Legs. Legs shrugged, smiling awkwardly to him.
“If you say so.” He murmured.
“Hey, sunshine,” Scott purred, sliding up beside them. He slid an arm through Owen’s elbow, putting one hand on his arm. “I just need to steal Owen here for a tick, family business, you understand.” He said, waving him off as he started pulling Owen away already.
Legs’ mouth opened and closed uselessly as Owen was dragged away, hissing and spitting.
“I was busy, you galumphing oaf.” He grumbled, yanking his arm free. Scott giggled behind a neatly manicured hand,
“I could see that, but we have matters to attend to.” He explained. Owen frowned.
“Like what?” He snapped.
“Like saying hello to some friends.” Scott murmured, leaning in and taking his arm again. Owen rolled his eyes and allowed Scott to drag him through the crowds again.
They slipped through a door behind the bar, tucked between shelves of prohibited alcohol. In the cramped, smoky and windowless room beyond, lit only by a flickering fluorescent bulb, seven people were hunched around a small table. Their heads were bent over some sort of card game, and all of them turned half lidded eyes to the two newcomers to their game.
Cleo threw down her cards with a triumphant smirk as Scott slipped into his seat beside Abolish, and Apo grumbled as she pushed a small pile of something towards her.
“I don’t know how you always win.” She muttered.
“I’m on a mob payroll, I have a good poker face.” Cleo snarked as she dragged her winnings toward her.
Drift laughed, throwing down her own cards and Shelby made a horrified noise.
“You were bidding that high with that?” She yelped, slapping the table.
“I was convinced you had like-“ Her rant was cut off by Scott leaning across the table to press one finger to her lips.
“We can come back to poker later, dear. Right now, we have matters to discuss.” He chuckled.
Cleo sighed, leaning back in her chair.
“I’m assuming ‘matters’ means payday?”
Scott rolled his eyes, mimicking her voice in a bad falsetto under his breath. He tossed an envelope to her and Apo from inside his jacket pocket, then tented his fingers on the table.
“Now that that’s taken care of,” He sighed, “I think we need to have a chat.”
His head lolled lazily towards Pyro. Pyro wilted inwards, eyes flicking to the lone door. Scott smirked, standing slowly and slinking around the table. He leant into Pyro’s ear, placing a clawed hand on his shoulder.
“I hear you’ve been,” He paused, tilting his head to look at Apo, then looked back with a sharp grin, “Telling stories.” He murmured. Pyro flinched, leaning away.
Scott drew back suddenly, tossing his hair.
“But you’re new, and you’re young, so you get one chance. You’re on warning.” He sighed, trailing a claw under his chin. Owen scoffed, leaning his head back.
“You dragged me out for this?” He snarled. Scott laughed lightly.
“Oh, don’t worry, hun, you are here for a reason.” His gaze flicked to Cleo.
“Pyro may be young, but Cleo here is not.” He said darkly. He flicked a claw at Owen, he and moved around the table to put Cleo in a headlock. With his other hand, he pulled out a gun, pressing it to her temple.
Pyro squeaked, eyes wide as he watched. Scott crossed his arms over his chest. Cleo sighed.
“This isn’t my fault, Pyro didn’t say anything before he did whatever it is you’re mad about.” She grumbled. Scott scoffed.
“You’re still his guide.” He snapped. He flicked a hand to Owen, and he pulled the trigger obediently. Cleo’s body went slack in his arms, then disappeared into dust.
Pyro yelped, a hand flying out too late. Apo, Shelby and Drift ignored him, dividing up Cleo’s winnings between them.
“I don’t- why- it was my fault!” He whispered. Scott sighed, shaking his head.
“She’s not actually dead, angel. But there are consequences for your actions.”
Pyro nodded brokenly, eyes still locked on Cleo’s empty chair. Shelby bounded up abruptly with a gasp.
“Scott! I’m late!” She yelped, trying to wriggle around him to get out the door. Scott giggled, stepping out of the way for her.
“Off you go, little bat.” He said, waving her off. She dashed out of the door, waving over her shoulder.
Owen tucked his gun back into his jacket.
“Can I go now?” He sighed. Scott waved him off.
“Go have fun with your doctor friend.” He said dismissively, helping Abolish up from where he had been sitting. Owen rolled his eyes as he stepped out, finding Legs still standing awkwardly where he had left him.
Legs latched onto the shorter man almost immediately leaning away from the crowd around them.
“Where did you go? Why did I hear a gunshot?” He hissed. Owen shrugged.
“It’s an illegal club, what did you expect?” Legs made a face at him.
“I certainly didn’t think ‘gunshots from a back room’.” He grumbled. Owen waved him off.
“Shelby will on in a sec, shut up.”
Legs obediently shut his mouth as the piano started. It was jaunty, if seemingly a little off key, and lilted over the general din of people having a good time. Owen strained to see over the heads of the other patrons, as much as he may dislike the rest of the coven generally, he actually didn’t mind them as people, and Shelby was a pretty good singer. Legs chuckled to himself as he lifted him slightly to help the shorter man.
Shelby strutted out onto the stage, flicking her hair. She paused halfway to lean down and wave to some of the crowd before she continued on to the mic. She cupped it delicately in her hands, smiling sweetly at the room as she started singing.
“I jumped all of the hurdles,
To break out of the pack,”
As she continued, she moved into the more intense part of the song, dragging the microphone after her as she danced. He spotted Drift in the wings, playing the piano while sneaking glances over her shoulder the whole time. He smiled, glancing over at Legs. He was watching, entranced, as Shelby swung around the mic again.
“So I made friends with rejection,
I straightened up my spine!” Shelby sang, her voice raising almost to a yell. She grinned broadly as she moved on to the next verse, and held one hand out to the wings. Drift was shoved out onto the stage, stumbling into Shelby. With a laugh, the two of them swung around, although Owen noted it seemed like Shelby was doing most of the leading.
Legs chuckled, looking over at Owen.
“She is pretty good.” He said. Owen laughed, slipping back down to the ground.
“If Scott asks, she’s better than just ‘pretty good’.” He laughed, shoving his face. Legs laughed as well, shaking his head.
“You want a drink?” Owen asked, already taking his hand to lead him to the bar. Legs shrugged, shuffling up beside him to lean against the bar.
The barkeeper passed Owen two glasses of something dark and pungent, and then he passed one of them to Legs. Legs wrinkled nose as Owen took a long sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat, spreading warmth in that temporary buzz that hummed under his skin.
Someone else sidled up to them through the mess, clutching her own glass of whatever close to her chest. He glanced at her sideways, tipping his drink by way of greeting. Cleo grunted, draining the glass and holding it out to the barkeeper. They eyed her warily for a moment.
“You gonna pay for that?” He asked.
“Put it on Scott’s tab if you need to.” She snapped. The man snuck a glance at Owen, and quickly filled her glass when he didn’t argue.
“Have a nice evening, ma’am.” He said quickly, before shuffling away.
Owen smirked sideways at her.
“You’d think they remember your face by now.” She grumbled. He snorted, draining his own glass and dropping on to the bar. She leant back slightly, enough to see Legs standing beside him. She glanced back at Owen.
“Who’s the new boy toy?” She asked. He frowned at her, snatching Legs’ glass and draining that as well.
The rules were looser at the bar, and the alcohol made it easier to ignore the blatant disregard for his higher position in the coven. Still, she would probably be getting some sort of menial task in the next few days. Owen was that petty.
Legs leaned around him to offer a hand to Cleo.
“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Legs.” He introduced himself.
“Like the body part?” Cleo sneered. Legs faltered, but laughed awkwardly when she grabbed his hand with a snort.
“I’m messing with you. I’m Cleo, detective.” She laughed. He nodded uncertainly.
“You’re a cop?” He asked. She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.
Behind them, Shelby had moved on to a calmer song, and Drift had disappeared behind the stage again. The barkeeper reappeared to refill their glasses silently, then ducked away again.
“So,” She said, tipping her head to the two men, “How’d you get mixed up with these idiots?” She asked, waving her glass at Owen.
She was definitely getting a cleanup job in the imminent future.
Legs laughed, shrugging.
“I made the mistake of helping him when he was bleeding out.” He offered, putting an arm around Owen’s shoulders. Owen scoffed.
“I was not bleeding out, that’s physically impossible.”
Cleo rolled her eyes, then glanced back at Legs.
“So, how did you help him? Was there any biting involved?” She snarked, glancing between them. Legs coughed, his face colouring. He snatched the glass back off Owen and downed what was left. Cleo huffed, shaking her head.
“And what does Scott think about this?” She asked, eyeing him sideways.
“Oh he’s already got a nickname, ‘sunshine’. And anyway, I don’t care what he thinks.” Owen snapped back.
Cleo nodded, unconvinced.
“Well, nice to meet you, sunshine. Owen, I’ll see you around.” She said, disappearing back into the throng.
“So, who was that?” Legs asked quietly, leaning in. Owen shrugged.
“The person I shot. Come on, I’m done here.” He said, dragging Legs away and ignoring his attempts to question him.
———————————————————————
“So,” Abolish said, leaning into Scott’s shoulder, “Did you have a good time?”
Scott chuckled, leaning his head against Abolish’s.
“I always have a good time, love. It’s always good to see Shelby sing, though.” He noted. Abolish hummed, grabbing the cigar caught between Scott’s teeth and taking a long drag himself.
“What did you think of Owen’s new plus one?” He asked absently, tapping the ash over the railing. Scott shrugged.
“He seems sweet enough, a bit naive but on board with whatever Owen tells him to do.” He replied.
Scott glanced down at the last of the bar patrons still milling around below. This catwalk area was one of his favourites in the whole place, you couldn’t see anything from the ground but could watch the entire thing from above. You could only get to it from a tucked away door in a tucked away supply cupboard behind the stage.
“Owen was grumbling about something Cleo was saying this evening.” Abolish observed blandly. Scott smirked.
“Of course. I don’t think those two could be in the same room without something going wrong.” He laughed. Abolish smiled, conceding his point with a shrug.
“We’ve got that meeting tomorrow.” He reminded Scott. He sighed, his head dipping forward.
“I hate them so much.”
“Everyone does. If we’re lucky they’ll mess up enough for us to shoot them.” Abolish joked, and Scott huffed, straightening again with a smile.
“Best case.” He muttered. He brushed a kiss against Abolish’s cheek before sweeping away down the catwalk. Abolish turned to trail after him reluctantly.