Archive of Our Own

Aubrey wouldn't necessarily say she knew the bartender, but the bar itself was recommended enough that she was comfortable coming here. She had casually mentioned to the gold dragonborn behind the counter that she was quite a transplant to the area and that while she traveled a lot for her job, she was looking to start dating again. 

The bartender - who's name she hadn't asked for but picked up quickly from everyone calling her that it was "Mont" or "Monty" - had given her a once over and a grin. "A pretty palomino like you? Should've no trouble with that. Serious or no strings?"

The southern accent of her and the other two black and silver dragonborn who seemed to own the place surprised Aubrey when she first heard it. "Casual," she says, ignoring the flirt, even if it made her smirk.

"The cutie behind ya, with the antlers. She's married to her job. She doesn't get attached if ya don't want her to."

Aubrey didn't do close friendships but no attachments - she could do that. She turns her head as casually as she can, and sees an admittedly cute deer shifter. She's talking with the blue kobold server and a well built dwarf woman who also catches Aubrey’s eye. It's when the shifter laughs and throws her red hair back that Aubrey is convinced - that one.

It's an effortless pick up; the deer shifter, Margo, easily responding to Aubrey’s charm, if she does say so herself, and flirting back with much of her own.

The bartender gives her a wink as she's leaving.

--

"You were all over that blonde again."

"Was not, Teq, mind your business."

"Can't believe ya just let her take your girl like that."

"Pa! Margo ain't my girl!"

"Oh let Monty have her crushes, darlings, it's adorable."

"It ain't a crush Ma, she was just easy on the eyes. I'm just tryin' to help a new girl out."

--

Aubrey picks Runswick as her go to "first date" spot after that, either by finding someone in the bar, matching on those dating apps that she honestly kind of hates, or just giving a cute person her number. Each time she notices the way the bartender meets her eye with a knowing look. She appreciates the feeling of being looked after; it wasn't one she was used to, and was probably the reason she keeps coming back, if hard pressed to admit it.

On one of her more ill-fitting matches, she meets up with a very sweet but younger boy. Despite the pleasant conversation, she obviously does not take him home but the two leave on good terms.

"What was wrong with him?" The bartender asks as she sits down for one more drink, mostly because Aubrey could tell she really wanted her to check in. "You two seemed to get along and even I could tell he was adorable."

She says "get along" like a country jingle. "Well," Aubrey drawls, "he was ten years younger than me, and had a med final in a week that he needed to study for. And I got the distinct feeling I wasn't his type, if you know what I mean."

"Ha!" she chuckles, sliding a drink to a man at the end who looked like he definitely wasn't the kind to nurse his drink. "I'm cuttin' you off after this one - I'm serious Demetrius, don't make me call Ways over here."

She turns back to Aubrey. "Just gotta find ya someone more your type then. If you've got one; your other dates didn't seem to have anythin' in common. Other than bein' cute."

Aubrey slips off her chair, shouldering her bag. "Type? Darling, I charm everyone."

The laugh the bartender leaves her with certainly turns heads.

--

"Did ya ask her out yet?"

"Nah, Pa, she ain't interested."

"What makes ya think that? Didn't you say she doesn't have a type?"

"Have you seen her? Gals who walk like CEOs don't date country bumpkins like me."

"Well, as Country Bumpkin Senior, now I'm just offended."

--

About a month in, Aubrey realizes she is no longer "the bartender" to her, but is now just Monty, although she still has no idea what that's short for.

She goes on a largely successful first date with a taller woman with gorgeous platinum blonde hair, followed by a second one a week later. As lovely as it is, Medra was only in town for a few days, so Aubrey gets the no strings attached she was looking for. 

The pretty woman does not escape Monty's notice, or anyone's for that matter. Aubrey catches the little blue kobold, who's name is, fittingly, Tequila, staring from a mile away.

At one point Medra excuses herself, and Aubrey immediately feels a prickle along the back of her head and hears Monty's voice in her ear.

"Where the hell did you find a vision like that?"

The first time Monty sent her a Message she nearly spilled her drink. Obviously magic wasn't rare - but Aubrey had no idea she could even do magic, nevermind that Monty gave her no warning. Now she was used to it and even enjoyed the private back and forth. "Careful, you're gonna give me a complex; but to answer your question, a bookstore."

"Shit, I need to get learn't."

"Smart ass."

"Y'all lookin' for a third?"

Medra comes back before Aubrey can answer more than a choked laugh into her drink, but she does leave Monty with a wink at the end of the night.

--

"Yo that gal was hot."

"Shame she had to go back'ta the university, Aubrey seemed to like her."

"You ever gonna talk about anythin' other than blondie?"

"We could talk about your crush on Grixie."

"...Nevermind."

--

Perhaps, if pressed hard enough by the right person - which Aubrey could count on one hand - she might admit she was probably a little hung up on Medra, because her next string of dates all go poorly.

Not badly, just poorly.

Well, except tonight, which she would definitely call 'going badly.'

Work had sent her on a difficult assignment, and she was struggling to shake off her bad mood. Which is what she blames for the feeling of disappointment at how busy Runswick is tonight and how Monty doesn't seem to have as much time for her. Even Tequila, zipping from table to table and booth to booth, doesn't seem to notice her.

So when the handsome stranger with the assumedly charming smile invites himself next to her, she doesn't protest.

He is rather charming, introducing himself as Hass; he doesn't give his occupation (and Aubrey certainly does not either), but she can pick up that he comes from money. He has the air about him; and the expensive watch on his wrist is a solid clue.

He looks out of place here, not that Belle - the silver dragonborn who Aubrey has since learned was Monty's mother - didn't keep her bar classy, certainly she did. But the country music playing just doesn't seem to match him. Still, he is good looking, and again, charming enough. Aubrey is no stranger to charm, faux or otherwise, and her mood is such tonight that she lets herself go with it, at first.

Emphasis on at first. After mentioning Angelica, her friend and boss, Hass quickly chimed in. "The gnome? She's cute but not my type."

A bad feeling rose up her spine. "Oh?"

"They come up a little short, if you know what I mean," he said with a wink that definitely came up short.

Her lightening mood immediately darkened again. Aubrey was no saint, she'd be the first to admit it, but disrespect such as this wasn't something she could tolerate.

He didn't seem to notice the way she started to close herself off, in fact he seemed to take no issue with filling in her side of the conversation with his own, bragging about his work and all that his family has done for the city.

Still, Aubrey doesn't feel unsafe. She knew how to make a quick getaway and even if Monty was busy, she knew help was around. She had seen Memphys - the burly black dragonborn who was Monty's father - kick out many a rowdy drunkard, and even Monty had shut down men and women who rubbed her the wrong way. 

No, it was more that Aubrey was now feeling unimpressed. Whatever flicker of light he had lit in her was gone, and now she was just annoyed with him, his lean, his smirk, his stories. His pompous gold watch. 

So she is quite surprised when, after excusing herself to the bathroom just to take a break from him, she feels that tingle along her scalp and Monty's voice magically in her head. "Hey Palomino, I may have 'accidentally' spilled your drink on that guy."

Her voice is sheepish and Aubrey can't help the incredulous laugh it pulls out of her. "You what?"

"Tequila says she was 70% sure she might have seen him put somethin' in your drink. Not a chance we figured we'd take ."

Aubrey's surprise at the fact that apparently the little kobold also doubled as security, mixed with the self admonishment that she broke the number one rule of never leaving your drink unattended, causes her to almost miss her window to respond. "...Thank you, Monty. I think it's time for me to leave."

"I also may've subtly suggested he hightail it outta here. His money don't mean jack shit t'me. I've never trusted that guy."

Aubrey takes the implied ask to not leave, and stays for one more drink. 

-

When she finally feels like she's had enough of being out, she's surprised when Monty calls out to her - not in her head this time. 

"Hey!"

Aubrey turns to see Monty a few steps behind her. "You look different not behind the bar," she jokes, her mood inexplicably rising. 

"I get that a lot," Monty smirks, and it looks better on her than the man who's name Aubrey has already forgotten. "Mind if I walk ya home?"

"Do you babysit all of your single patrons?"

"Only the pretty ones with a rain cloud over 'em."

Aubrey blinks. She had been sure Monty hadn't noticed more than the potentially spiked drink. "Ah," she winces, "was it that obvious?"

Monty shoves her hands into the pockets of her black duster, with gold trimming that matches her gold scales. "Nah, not really," she says, her tail twitching, and something about the horrible lie is charming.

"It's not closing time, won't your parents be upset if you leave now?" Despite the question, Aubrey has already started walking, letting Monty walk with her. 

"Pfft, you kiddin'? Pa's a better bartender than me, the attention whore."

Aubrey can not for the life of her stop the burst of a laugh that falls out of her. "I see where you get it from."

"Ouch!"

They fall into a comfortable silence that eventually Monty, the chatterbox, breaks. "So what's got you down, Palomino? Other than that blowhard."

The nickname is enough to convince her that she wouldn't mind the company. There was something disarming about the way Monty didn't use her name. "Guess I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Easier to do when ya wake up alone."

Aubrey looks at her sharply and Monty laughs, putting her hands up. "Easy, darlin'. You ain't the first person I know who's just tryin' to ease that loneliness and you ain't the last." 

She gives a smile that Aubrey can't read and adds, "Tequila calls me a harlot but my Pa'n I call it hoardin'."

"You? I don’t think I've ever seen you leave with someone." Not that she hasn't seen Monty flirting because boy has she.

"We've only just met, and you never stay 'til closin'," she says simply, and now Aubrey can read the lopsided smile just fine. "Or are you sayin' I just don't look the type?"

"There isn't a way I can answer that that potentially won't offend you, but for the record, yes I could see it."

She seems to preen a little and something clicks for Aubrey. "Ah, so that's why you knew what Margo was like."

Another one of those booming laughs that she and her dad apparently had in common. "She's a real cutie."

"So, you did mean it about the threesome."

Aubrey gives a half smirk as Monty sputters, letting her try and dig herself out of that one. She has the integrity to not try another lie and just gives a sheepish grin.

Aubrey let's her eyes drift to the sidewalk. "I guess…" She clears her throat, embarrassed, and Monty lets her think in silence. "I guess I am lonely. Khyber’s sake, I hate admitting that."

"A tough gal, huh?"

"So I've been told."

Monty shrugs. "You're the new gal in town, and you ain't gonna click with everyone you meet and that's alright. Just gotta give it time. And there ain't no harm in shoppin' around until you find the right fit."

Aubrey opens her mouth to say something before Monty jumps in, a bit frantically. "Sorry - that ain't very helpful, is it?"

"No, it's...It's comforting. And you're right. But I was going to say - what's your excuse? If you're such a hoarder?"

Monty turns red and snorts a puff of smoke from her snout. "I just….pretty girls are my vice," she says, her nerves apparent.

"We have that in common," Aubrey concedes with an upturned lip and she sees something in Monty's eyes light up before they turn pensive again.

"And I suppose - I ain't no cheater and I am monogamous but, well, it can be difficult for me to commit. Even if I really like the gal, I can still be a bit hands off and it seems to rub gals the wrong way. It ain't easy to be with someone who keeps their options open." 

The way she seems to struggle to catch her eye tells Aubrey that wasn't an easy thing to say out loud for her. "I think we have that in common as well."

Aubrey does not live far from Runswick, which is partly why she chooses it as her now regular spot, so they reach her line of apartments soon enough. She sees the way Monty slows a step, as if she's considering hanging back, satisfied that Aubrey didn't get into any mishap on the way home and her job was done. Aubrey matches her step, hoping to convey it doesn't bother her if she sees which door is hers. 

Monty stops at the step as Aubrey reaches her door and turns. "Thank you, Monty. I think that rain cloud is now just partly cloudy."

"Anytime, Palomino."

She turns to go with a nod, and for some reason Aubrey feels the need to call out, "I'm being sent out of state for a job, so you won't see me for a week or so." At Monty's questioning head tilt, she hurries to add, "I just - don't want you to think I'm avoiding your place - er, your place of work."

Monty gives a half turned grin. "No worries. You don't strike me as the type to be frightened away. Tough gal, remember?" She clears her throat. "Will I - we, see you for karaoke night? Well we call it karaoke night but it doubles as Ma's performance night. We only do it once a month and you missed the last one 'cause'a your date with Professor Model."

"Well I don't sing, but if your mother is performing then sure, I'll be there."

She gives another nod. "Cool. Have fun on your work trip, whatever the hell ya do." And she goes to leave, not asking to come up or impose any further.

"Monty?" She turns, tail swishing behind her. "What's your full name?"

"Montgomery Grey. What's your last name?"

"Galatea."

Her eyes shine in the street light. "Can't believe you kept such a pretty name from me, Aubrey Galatea."

Aubrey gives the smile that she's sure got her Medra's phone number. "Good night, Montgomery," and she heads inside. 

--

"You didn't kiss her?"

"You know it woulda been in bad taste. I ain't that much of a hound dog"

"I suppose. Is there maybe...somethin' else goin' on?"

"Ma…I think I really like her."

"Oh, Sugar, what the hell are you waiting for?"

--

"What about that deer shifter?"

Aubrey adjusts the phone to her other shoulder as she leans back in her chair, rolling her eyes at Angelica's nagging and shutting the lid on her laptop. She could almost see her boss tossing her black hair and ticking off names on her gnomish fingertips. "What about her?"

"Why don't you ask her out again? I liked her. She knew her stuff."

"You just liked her because she was a reporter."

"Shame she was just a city girl, she could be an asset globally."

Aubrey raises an eyebrow even though Ang couldn't see it. "I'm starting to feel like chopped liver. Would you like her number so you can confess your love for her yourself?"

"Very funny, smart ass. You know you're my best girl."

It sounded like something Monty would say, a thought that Aubrey immediately shakes off. "Why don't you tell me about your dating life for once?"

"I'm your boss, I don't have to tell you anything. Besides, yours is more fun."

Aubrey hopes Angelica could hear her smirk. "Dry spell huh?"

"What about the bartender then?"

"Montgomery?"

"Yea her, she seems to come up in a lot of your stories. It might be a sign that she gave you a little special treatment, walking you home last week. Maybe she wants to give you a little special treatment."

Aubrey rolls her eyes, picturing Angelica wagging her eyebrows. "She's definitely a flirt. I mean, she's cute but it seems a bit like - "

"Shitting where you eat?"

"I don't like you."

A laugh on the other end. "God, you've had that stick up your ass since we met. I might have something for you, but we're still looking into it. Otherwise - you got that last write up for me, right?"

"You know I'm good for it; sent them last night."

"Thanks, Bree."

"You know, I think Oliver still has a crush on you."

"Don't start that again."

-

'What about the bartender? ' rings in Aubrey’s head each time she enters Runswick after her call with Angelica. She maintains her weekly visits to the bar, usually Friday nights, but does not bring a date. She finds, other than a little back and forth with an attractive face, she doesn't seek out a date either, frankly, and she was glad to realize it had nothing to do with her mood. She was simply content to relax and mind her business at the counter, nursing her drink as she chatted with Monty and occasionally even Tequila, Memphys and Belle.

When she visited again after her work trip, Belle had, very sweetly, checked in to make sure she knew the likes of Hass (oh right, that was his name) were not welcome at her establishment, and she took care to make sure her patrons felt safe. Aubrey had thanked her, awkwardly charmed at this honestly gorgeous dragon patting her on the arm.

"Sorry, I swear I told Ma not to bother ya but she's ornery," Monty had Messaged, and Aubrey could see her yellow ears turning pink from across the bar.

"You tell your parents everything?"

"They needed to know why I was kickin' someone out, but yea, mostly everythin', we don't keep many secrets."

"What's something they don't know ?"

She's not really sure where the challenge came from, but it rose in her chest and came out before she could stop it. There's a slight delay as Monty seems to ponder casting the spell again. "I mean, I do keep private matters private, if you catch my drift. "

Aubrey presses her drink to her lips, hoping anyone who might have their eyes on her would assume the slight flush to her cheeks was from alcohol. "Your parents strike me as nosy, so don't kid yourself ."

The booming laugh startles the people next to her and Aubrey can see the smile on her face without her turning to look at her.

There's a slight shift to her dynamic with Aubrey, or perhaps it is Aubrey’s dynamic with Monty, but whichever it is, Aubrey finds herself looking forward to banter with a growing excitement that gets her through the week. A growing excitement that made Angelica's words ring even louder.

When she walks in for the promised karaoke night at the end of the month, she is at first perplexed to see Memphys behind the bar instead of Monty, only to see her moments later pushing one of those karaoke boxes into place on the small stage as Tequila finishes moving furniture around to clear more space for the dance area. Or at least she attempts to finish - Monty has to reach around her and heave up some of the chairs for her, and Aubrey stifles a smile when Tequila blows a raspberry. The dwarf woman, Brunhilde, is helping them, setting up a microphone and speaker box and moving around them in the tight space with practiced ease.

Aubrey finds herself watching them work; at least until she hears Memphys call out and she turns back to him, startled that she forgot he was there.

"Ay Monty, are ya sure ya don't want me to do that for ya?!"

"You can cover me for five minutes, old man!"

"I was gonna handle all this," he complains to Aubrey now, "but she wouldn't let me. Wouldya believe what she tells me? 'You're too old!'"

Aubrey gives him a smile, leaning on the counter. "You look like you could handle it."

Even despite his age, Memphys was quite a bulky dragon. "Too right lil' lady," he says, and he starts crafting her usual cocktail without having asked her what she wanted. "I've still got it, I say."

Despite his complaining, she can tell it's mostly in jest - probably good natured teasing of his daughter bossing him around. She sees some of the other patrons shaking their heads in the same way as her, as if they're used to him. 

She puts her chin in her hands and adds a little slant to her lean. "My, but if you were two decades younger, fella."

Memphys immediately guffaws, sliding her the drink. "On the house! Hey Monty!" He calls again, his grey mane of a beard swinging as he turns. "I like this one!"

Monty appears so quickly next to her seat she almost startles again. "Pa, you said the same damn thing about Del. And Brunhilde, and Natsuko, and Margo, and Breezy and Dem - "

"Alright, alright. Not my fault ya pal around with so many pretty gals."

Monty snorts, before settling her eyes on Aubrey properly. "Hey," she says with a grin that seems relieved.

Her elbow is leaned against the counter and it's odd to see her on this side of it. "Hi," Aubrey answers back, charmed by watching her talk to her father. Aubrey did not talk to her parents, and when she did it was not so informal as this.

There's a beat and then Monty blinks as if shaking herself out of something. "Pa," she looks to him as she rounds the counter to take her place at the bar. "Time for your usual test run, if you wanna?"

"Great - time for some good old Ol' Red."

Belle's voice calls out from the back room. "You always sing Ol' Red! Sing somethin' else!"

They go back and forth until Aubrey is tuning out the low crooning of something about a warden and a dog and there's cheers and laughs from the patrons at the bar.

"Sorry about them," Monty says after the first chorus.

Aubrey tilts her head. "You take after them. It's cute."

Usually, Aubrey thinks, Monty is good at covering a blush or a fluster, having seen her on the receiving end of girls leaning towards her over the counter plenty of times; but here she turns a pleased pink, smiling with no sign of arrogance. Clearly this was a high compliment to the Greys. "Heh, yea in some ways."

If she wants to say more, she doesn't get the chance when a group that Aubrey assumes is her friends - she recognizes the rowdy goblin woman, Grixie, who pals around Tequila - pile into two booths and get Monty's attention. "Sorry I gotta - "

"Go on; your handsome Pa will surely come back and keep me company."

She gives a warm smile and Aubrey watches her tower over most of her friends, giving a short white kenku an affectionate scratch on the cheek, and then a just as affectionate noogie to Grixie, much to her chagrin. For a moment, Aubrey feels a pang at realizing that other than Angelica and perhaps Monty, she didn't really have any friends. Maybe she could stand to be nicer to her co-workers.

Shaking her head, Aubrey pushes the thought away. She was not the kind of person who lamented like that, and she'd be lying to herself if she tried to claim she didn't value her alone time.

Still, she realizes the pang eases when Margo touches her wrist and promises to catch her for lunch sometime, before singing a short duet with one of Monty's friends, a pretty cat shifter with a cute accent that rivals the dragons. It's a song she doesn't recognize but it has a lively enough energy, even if it was not the kind of song she would listen to on her own time. 

'Don't know who sings it; I keep searchin' the radio'

It eases when Tequila scampers to the bar to order some appetizers for the group, sliding her a small tray of fries that Aubrey didn't ask for. She breaks her 'no fries' rule just this once.

'And when you smile that smile, the world turns upside down'

It eases when Memphys passes her a whiskey, a shot in the dark she took when he suggested it as something that's meant to be nursed so that she could just relax and enjoy the show, and truly she does. 

'Every breath that I take is brand new, I'm a man brought back to life'

And it definitely eases during her top three favorite performances of the night. The third being the man she knows is Demetrius singing a drunken yet passionate rendition of a song about space and missing home; he gets most of the words wrong, if the teleprompter was anything to go by, but the crowd joining in more than makes up for it. One of Monty's friends, a Warforged with a pilot's pin stuck to his cloak, sits with what are assuredly digital hearts in his eyes. More notable than a robot sitting in a bar is the white cockatoo wearing a service animal vest with a little compass pin attached sitting on the robot's shoulder.

'Rocket man, burnin' on the streets'a Babylon!'

Her second favorite is a bit of a cheat, given the abilities of a kenku. The little kenku who looks like some kind of pigeon with a fanned out tail, opens her mouth and just says "'A tribute,'" before launching into a perfect mimic of Belle's voice. It does its job to warm up the small crowd circled in front of the stage and the rest of the bar spread out in booths and tables, and even Aubrey finds it sweet the way everyone cheers her on as she sings.

'Well, don't trust your soul to no backwoods southern lawyer; cause the judge in the town's got bloodstains on his hands!'

The kenku hops off the stage and into Monty's arms, who sets her down and motions for her to head on back to their friends, and it's then Aubrey hears her favorite performance. Perhaps she has a bias already.

The fiddle or violin was a surprise, considering Aubrey had been sure Monty would sing. It was clearly an old thing, but certainly well taken care of by the look of it's polished shine. Music starts and, instead of singing, Monty plays along to the tune of the lyrics as opposed to the music.

Aubrey was never one for country music but thanks to the three or so months that she has been coming here, she recognizes the song well enough. It was a song about a night in a bar, so it was a popular choice in a place like this. Others sing along, reading off the screen or by heart; Aubrey could look at the screen as well if she wanted to, but she finds that she does not.

The song has an interesting mournful yet slightly upbeat feeling, but the sound of the fiddle backed by the melody pushes it more toward mournful, something about it emphasizing the lonely feeling of the lyrics. But what really has Aubrey's attention is the focused way Monty plays. Her fingers move over the strings with a dedication that calls to mind the way she mixes drinks or would whip up a Mage Hand. The bow moves in her hand, with her arm, like it was a piece of her and it slides over the instrument with seemingly no effort. Aubrey rests her chin against her palm and watches.

Monty's eyes are either shut the whole time or are locked on the fiddle; she only looks up once and it's to catch Aubrey’s eye for all of a few seconds, and it isn't stubbornness that makes her keep the stare.

'But I'll be alright, as long as there's light from a neon moon'

"She's good, yea?" A voice next to her ear says, teasingly, and Aubrey jumps. She turns to see Belle standing next to her, wiping out a glass. Aubrey had completely forgotten she was there, slinging drinks for those who wanted fourths or fifths while Monty was away.

"She's quite talented." Aubrey hopes her voice is steady.

Belle raises an eyebrow in a mom way that makes Aubrey feel intimidated. If Oliver saw her now, she'd never scare him again. Quickly, she adds, "The ways she is like you and her father are quite a thing to see."

It was apparently the right thing to say, as it had been for Monty earlier, or else Belle is just pleased to hear her compliment her daughter, but Belle gives a touched smile. "Thank you, Sugar, that's sweet of you to say."

Thinking that's all, Aubrey turns back to watch Monty finish her song, but then Belle continues with "I can see why she has her eye on you."

Aubrey wasn't blind but considering the way Monty had almost bragged about being a "hoarder," she had sort of been assuming their banter was just flirting. Now she finds herself uncharacteristically struggling to find words. It occurs to Aubrey that maybe Belle had been quietly observing her throughout the night, and she tries to think if anything in her behavior gave away - something.

Belle goes easy on her, giving her a pat on the wrist and a smile before excusing herself, ready to take her turn on the stage, which allegedly is what everyone was waiting for.

Monty finishes up and gives a faux-gentlemanly bow to the crowd, before adjusting a microphone and leaning down to help her mother on stage, to a chorus of cheers. "Alright alright, I can see when I'm not wanted."

Belle pats her on the cheek, before wasting no time starting her song, the teleprompter just a formality at this point. She sings a sad sounding song, about a scorned wife pleading with the mistress that is clearly a crowd favorite. Aubrey rests her cheek in her hands and taps her heel against the stool.

'Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain; and I cannot compete with you, Jolene'

Monty goes back to chat with her friends, but not before making eye contact with her and giving an oddly bashful smile. Aubrey sends her a wink that certainly some of them see, as the one with curly hair starts immediately teasing her, and the one with pinkish hair gives her a nudge in the side with her elbow. Not that it was hard to miss the way she nearly tripped over her own boots. Monty's body language turns hilariously indignant. 

Aubrey wallflowers for most of Belle's performances, most of which are back to back upbeat country or otherwise songs that get most of the patrons either on their feet or happily singing on their way out. Aubrey didn't intend to come here to dance - not that she can't, she just chooses not to - her intentions settling just fine with nursing a drink and making small talk to wind down the week.

Apparently no one else got the memo as some of Montys friends - Tequila, the pretty cat, and a girl with blue hair - make their way towards her. In a feat of surprising strength, Tequila manages to take her by the arm and get her out of her chair and Aubrey is all but corralled onto the dance floor and it isn't until her back hits a solid form that she realizes what they were doing. 

"So the lone mare can have fun!"

Aubrey spins in place to look up at her. "Your idea?"

"You've been comin' here long enough to know this is not how I'd pick up a gal."

Out of the corner of her eye, Aubrey thinks she sees Grixie throw a thumbs up and it's about then she realizes the music has transitioned to something soft and slow. Even if Monty wasn't in on it, Aubrey would be hard pressed to believe Belle wasn't.

The crowd parts just a little, leaving only couples or friends dancing together, or single people confident or drunk enough to sway on their own. Monty tilts her head and holds out her hands in a leading position, should Aubrey accept. Which Aubrey, reminding herself that she is not the kind of person who cares what others think, does.

Aubrey is a little miffed to notice the way her limbs feel stiff, her movements jerky as if maybe she needed another drink to do this, and with a jolt of embarrassment she realizes she is nervous. If Monty notices, she doesn't comment, seemingly content to just sway to Aubrey’s pace, even if she was the one leading. Upon realizing no one was watching them, Aubrey finally relaxes, her feet moving more naturally.

'Yeah we both got dreams we could chase alone, or we could make our own'

"Been a while?" Monty asks, with a thankfully non-condescending grin.

"It certainly has, yes. Dancing isn't really my thing."

"I promise not to step on your toes."

Aubrey tilts her head. "Well, if you dance as good as you play, I'll trust you."

Monty laughs nervously and flushes pink. "If you thought that was good you should see me do Devil Went Down to Georgia . One'a these days I'm gonna get me a golden fiddle."

"What made you stick with the bar instead of performing?"

Monty surprises her by spinning her, then pulling her back to her but Aubrey catches herself in time to avoid literally tripping over her own feet. "I've been primed to take the place over since I was a kid, really. I honestly love it. Playin' is fun but it's just a hobby. I like the people too much to quit 'em. Sometimes a cute mare comes in and needs advice, after all."

"I see," Aubrey attempts to stifle how much the flirt lands this time.

"I tinker too, but never thought to make a career of it."

"Tinker?"

Monty lets go of her hand to show the smartwatch gadget, then places her hand on Aubrey’s hip to spin them around so that Aubrey is half turned towards the bar. "All them guns along the wall in the back? They're antiques. I like to collect 'em, clean 'em up, maybe modernize 'em a little. They're just for show though, no triggers or ammo. I got a bunch at home too."

Aubrey takes a moment to admire the decor with new eyes; then, realizing she doesn't like being able to see Memphys from here, twists them back around, even if his eyes are only for his wife. "Impressive. So you're good with your hands, is what you're saying?"

She gives that booming laugh again. "Careful, smart ass."

There's a beat of a shared look between them and Aubrey is aware that her hand is still on her hip. Monty tilts her chin to indicate her. "What about you, Galatea? You're a little tight lipped about yourself. All I know about you really is that you like gin and tonics, book stores, work for the Estrella, and look great in a pencil skirt."

Telling others what she did for a living tended to come with a bit of hesitation and not a little bit of lying, but here she finds neither. "I sometimes tell people I'm a journalist but it would be more accurate to say...let's call it an Investigative Reporter."

"Huh! I used to wanna be a detective."

Aubrey chuckles and as smoothly as she can, lays her arms behind Monty's neck. "Well, perhaps in another life we could have been working together."

"So what does that mean?"

Out of habit, Aubrey drops her voice to somewhere near a whisper and Monty has to lean her head closer, which Aubrey should have anticipated but blushes at nonetheless. "I don't do the reporting itself, but I'm responsible for investigating leads, collecting evidence, sources, conducting interviews. There's a degree of…anonymity to my department, as we specialize in reporting or even exposing political corruption."

"Ah, so your name isn't on any of them articles, huh?"

"Anything that might link back to my department has an alias; mine is Harper. But I don't write anything that's front and center, no."

"Y'know I couldn't say why, but Harper fits you. You and Margo must have had a lot to chat about."

"Oh the pillow talk would have bored you, I assure you."

Her ears perk and cheeks turn pink and Aubrey can tell without an innuendo that she’s picturing it. "And what does the anonymous do for fun? Read the newspaper?"

"I also collect knives."

Monty misses a step but manages not to step on her toes, impressively. "Knives?"

"Decorative knives and daggers. And the occasional sword. I used to fence when I was a teenager and the hobby grew from there. I think they're quite beautiful. And they're all kept behind locked display cases."

She sees a look in Monty's eye that reads like she's seeing her differently but the tilt to her lip eases any worry of judgement. "I guess we kinda have dangerous hobbies in common too. Can you still fence?"

"It might come back to me if I tried, but no."

"Oh shame, I was gonna ask you to teach me. Now what'm I supposed to talk to you about during our pillow talk?"

There's a challenge in the whisper that sends a thrill up Aubrey’s spine. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to think of something as you walk me home."

Monty raises an eyebrow, and Aubrey feels her make a gesture against her hip, then watches as her lips move with no words, her eyes looking off to the side. Behind her, she sees Memphys' ears perk and then he laughs.

Monty takes her hand and leads her off the dance floor. 

--

"Pa, can you handle things without me?'

"Ha! You go and show your gal a good time, darlin'."

--

They talk the entire length of the walk, mostly about little things that Aubrey wishes she had thought to ask before.

"Tell me something else I don't know about you."

"I own a peacock. He lives at my folks ranch, showed up hurt as hell one day and I took to healin' and feedin' him and eventually started trainin' him and he just never left. Real ornery thing, struts around like a rooster. His name's Pennywhistle."

"You're a bit of a peacock yourself so that fits actually."

Monty touches her chest. "Again - ouch! What about you? You strike me as a cat gal."

Aubrey shrugs. "I have a poison dart frog in my study."

Monty's beam easily tells Aubrey she never expected that answer in a million years. "A what?"

"A p- "

"That's so cool! What color? What's its name?"

"Red and black. Poison dart frog."

"You didn't name it? That's borin', I'm gonna name it for you."

Aubrey chuckles. "Fine, but I get to vet the suggestions."

"Deal. Okay, you tell me somethin' else about you."

She looks up at the streetlights above as she thinks. They're only a few yards from her door at this point. "I'm known at work for being difficult to work with and a loner."

Monty snorts but it's not in a condescending way. "You don't seem difficult to me, but the loner part I had pegged about you soon as I met you."

Aubrey takes her last steps as Monty stops, feeling a slight satisfaction at the way it brings them to mostly the same eye level. "It's not without reason."

"Perhaps not," she says and if her body leans closer, Aubrey doesn't complain. "But I think the rumor is half true. You like bein' alone, but you're tired of bein' lonely. You like companionship but you don't know how to ask for it. You're lookin' for somethin' but you don't know what it is yet."

She studies Monty's face in silence. "When did you become a psychologist?"

"Bartendin' school. Am I close?"

Aubrey kisses her, taking her tie around her fingers and tugging. Monty responds immediately, cupping her face in her hands and pulling her closer and, later, Aubrey won't really remember how they got inside tangled up like that.

Although she will remember the frantic way she pulled off Monty's coat and then her own; she'll remember the way Monty would push her up against the hallway wall and kiss her again, running her hands through her hair and down the sides of her face, down to her hips; she'll remember their brief exchange -

"Where's your bedroom?"

"Upstairs, to the left. Sorry," she smirks against her lips, "did you want a tour?"

"I'd love a rain check on that, darlin'."

- Before Monty slips her hands underneath her, lifts, and carries her up the stairs, kissing her the whole way as Aubrey clings to her neck. 

"Did you think of anything for that pillow talk, Cowboy?"

"You're about to find out."

-

The next morning, Aubrey feels arms wrap around her hips as she sits up, legs swung around the side of the bed. "S'too early."

Aubrey chuckles and she slips on the nearest piece of clothing, which definitely by coincidence is Monty's shirt. "I'm late for my run."

"'Run'? Good lord, woman," Monty jests, lifting herself up on her arms, placing her chin on Aubrey’s shoulder. "Ya kicking me out, huh?"

Aubrey thinks for a moment, then turns her head to look at her. "I wouldn't say no to you still being here when I got back."

Monty hums. "You trust everyone alone in your room?"

"Only people who have watched my purse for me a million times and never stole a thing." She tilts her head with a smirk. "I can promise a shower for you if everything is in order."

She thinks she actually sees the thrill run through her and Monty seems to consider it before pulling herself away with what looks to be a Herculean effort, sitting up next to her. "God damn, as sexy as that is, I should probably get outta your hair. We always have lunch on Sunday with the folks, so I should probably be gettin' home to prep."

"Your loss," Aubrey says with a wink. "Would you like to see something before you go?"

"Your ass in runnin' shorts?"

Aubrey pulls Monty by the arm into her study; it's a small room but sized well enough for one person, with an elongated L shaped desk that takes up almost two sides of the room, and a bookshelf along the other wall. She kept it minimally decorated, with some low maintenance plants kept next to the window, as well as next to the reason she was bringing Monty in here in the first place. Her little frog was kept in a twenty gallon tank, with overflowing foliage and all the bells and whistles needed to keep the temperature and humidity running at capacity. 

The red color of the frog looked even brighter against the greens and browns of the moss and leaves, and this morning it was sitting on top of one of it's hide-away logs instead of under it. Monty immediately perks up and crouches down to take a closer look.

"What a tiny fella! Can they be held? Are they actually poisonous?"

Aubrey has to stifle a grin at her excitement, as if she was looking at a puppy instead of a tiny amphibian, before turning to look at her pet. "They're not actually poisonous in captivity, as the toxins come from their prey in the wild. So they're harmless to hold, but I don't handle him ever unless I have to, it's not good for them. I try to keep it to only when it's time to move."

She glances back at Monty. "You can feed him though, if you'd - what?"

Monty stares at her with a slow smile pulling back her lips. "You're cute. Yea, I'd love to feed Nameless."

Aubrey rolls her eyes, at the compliment and the playful jab. She reaches over to the shelf where she keeps her tweezers and the tiny box of crickets, holding them out to Monty and lifting the lid of the terrarium.

Monty carefully handles the crickets and they drop into the moss and on top of the log next to her frog. He sits there for a moment in the still way small animals do, before moving forward with jerky movements and snapping up two of the crickets.

"Heh, he's a cutie. And he's out and about too, I thought tiny critters like this liked to hide. All incognito like, y'know? I guess he sticks out like a sore thumb no matter what, huh?"

Aubrey blinks. "...Incognito. Dammit, did you just accidentally name my pet?"

Monty laughs that laugh. "You're welcome."

It's with an uncharacteristic begrudging feeling that Aubrey leads them back to her room to dress, Monty collecting her pants, vest, tie and jacket but seemingly deliberately not asking for her shirt back. And Aubrey certainly doesn't offer.

"What're you doin' tonight?" Monty asks as Aubrey leads her to the door.

"Probably running errands, doing chores I've been putting off, and getting a jump start for the week."

"Are you interested in dinner? I know a place."

Aubrey tilts her head. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you outside of your own restaurant."

"Is that a yes?"

Aubrey reaches around her to grab the notebook and pen she keeps by the door, and scribbles her number on it. She tears the paper off and tucks it into the inside pocket of Monty's jacket. "Text me the time and place. I'll be there."

Monty kisses her on the cheek, and for some reason that leaves Aubrey more flustered than if she'd gone for her lips.

"It's a date."

--

"So when's the weddin'?"

"Pa! It was just a night. And dinner...tonight."

"Go easy on her, Memphys, it's been a while since Monty's had a crush."

"Ma, Monty gets a crush like every month."

"Not like this, sweetie. This is more like when she dated - "

"Oh c'mon Ma. This isn't like Gentry at all."

"If you say so, darlin'."

--

Dinner turns to nightly texts, which turns to flirting shamelessly at Runswick, which turns to a sprinkling of dates (or "hangin' out") throughout the week, which turns to various nights spent wrapped up in each other in Aubrey’s bed. Not every night - certainly she was more disciplined than that, but the amount of time they were spending together had rapidly surpassed even the best of her previous dates. 

Something that would concern Aubrey, were she not making such an effort to not think about that, thank you.

What does start to concern Aubrey, if she really lets herself think too much about it, is not that she shows Monty her knife collection, something she does with a lot more hesitation than she did when showing off Incognito. Not that it was necessary; Monty seems more than impressed with her display, her favorites being the ones with intricate details carved into the handles or metal, taking the time to ask if Aubrey knows the history or significance behind the daggers and letting her explain one by one if she does. 

It's not the way Monty returns the favor by showing off her own collection of antique pistols, revolvers, and a rifle that is clearly her favorite. Aubrey catches that some of the pieces also have details hand carved into the handles or the butt (she doesn't laugh, honestly);  clearly Monty has a thing for details that look best when up close. Monty keeps to her word that they're safe to handle, the triggers removed and unloaded, nevermind that most of them are outdated kinds that probably couldn't fire anyway; a moot point either way as she also keeps them behind display cases. 

It's not the way she, after receiving a little pressing, gets Monty to push the living room furniture back to give them some space and Aubrey shows her some fencing maneuvers. Monty isn't quite graceful, and frankly neither is she with how rusty she is, but Monty lays the compliments on thick enough that it makes Aubrey consider looking into classes again. A little research wouldn't hurt, certainly.

It's not the way Monty closes Runswick slightly early one night and gives her a quick drink mixing lesson behind the counter, which isn't so much a lesson as it is Monty standing behind her with her arms around her, briefly showing her how to make a drink before mostly manipulating her hands and doing it for her. Aubrey is only a little embarrassed at how quickly that one turned into a make out session.

It's not - although, it almost is - the way she relents and joins the Grey's for their usual Sunday lunch, which turns to dinner as well, spending time with a family for the first time in she can't remember how long. She does her best to be as charming as possible to Belle and Memphys, although it's pretty clear they already like her, and surprisingly she gets the usually quiet Tequila chatting away about Incognito. She even shows of her pet gecko, Wyrm, and Monty proudly displays her equally as proud Pennywhistle.

No, what really might concern Aubrey if she thinks about it too much, is the way they start to talk. It's the way their nights together, while still physical, start to turn into them wasting moonlight away by just talking. 

She starts to tell Monty things that very few people know about her, or things that she usually hesitates to say. It's not that she considers herself a secretive woman - well, other than what she has to do as Harper, that was strictly confidential. But she does consider herself tight-lipped; she was a woman of few words, mostly, and she usually liked to keep it that way. And more than that, she doesn't usually probe for more than what someone might tell her. 

It's a surprise to her one night when Monty lays her head on her chest, chin on her sternum, and muses, "So what d'you think makes you such a loner, Palomino? You seem to both enjoy yet shy away from company," and she answers.

Aubrey runs her hand across the spines on Monty's head as she thinks. "It's just the way I was raised. My family was not intimate like yours is. Hell, with all the etiquette classes, fencing, boarding school...I'm not sure I could even say I was raised by my parents. I have not been home in some time and yet the warmth from your parents still sends me into a culture shock."

"So you never go back to your country?"

"My country?"

Monty adjusts herself so that she's supporting her head on her hand to look down at her. "Yea - well - you've never told me if you moved here outta country or another city, but I didn't think you were Brelish. It's real faint, but you have a slight accent when you say certain words. But I'm not that worldly, so I couldn't pinpoint what it was."

Aubrey blinks at her; she had no idea she still had a trace of an accent, and certainly no one else had pointed it out. "My, maybe you should have been a detective."

"Maybe if all perps had pretty voices like yours."

Aubrey chuckles. "I don't...You're correct, I'm not from here. But I don't like to discuss my country. It's a difficult subject for me."

"Yea well, there was that war all them years ago. I think a lotta people keep hush about their home, even now. Even in a place like Sharn."

"I think perhaps - I've been at my job for quite a while, maybe being anonymous for so long just rubbed off on me. There's definitely comfort in it that's hard to shake off, especially when I travel so much and to the places I do."

"And you're tired of bein' anonymous."

"I…" She furrows her brow, fingers tracing along Monty's horns, thinking about how she picked up on something Aubrey didn't even notice herself. "It's nice to be seen."

"And your parents - you don't see them?"

"It's so rare I may as well tell you no."

"I couldn't imagine not seein' my parents ever, but that's just how dragons are. I'm sure they had good intentions."

"Does that matter?"

"Nah," Monty says, touching her forehead to hers for a moment. "Not if it hurt you."

Aubrey has to clear her throat for a few seconds, and when she speaks she changes the subject, content to leave it at that and scared to say anymore. "What about you, Cowboy? You seem the opposite of a commitment-phobe and yet you claim to be such."

Monty lets out a long, over dramatic groan that earns her a chuckle from Aubrey, who adjusts them so that they're lying face to face. "Okay you - you can't laugh okay?"

Aubrey raises an eyebrow, and promises nothing. 

"I - I already told you girls are kinda my vice. I fall for pretty faces very easily.

"Thanks."

"Hey! I had to watch you flirt with people for months, you can listen to my story without gettin' jealous."

"Alright," Aubrey concedes with a smirk. "So you have a wanderin' eye."

"I suppose that ain't inaccurate, but like I've said, I ain't a cheater. And it ain't like it's always love at first sight or nothin'. But when I was younger - there was a gal. My ex-wife, Gentry."

Aubrey is so surprised she almost knocks their heads together when she double takes. "Your ex-wife?"

"She was my best friend when we were growin' up. Prettiest tiefling you ever did see. I had a huge crush on her and we flirted back and forth constantly. Until one day, after a drunken night that I honestly do not remember, we woke up in the same bed, with weddin' rings and a killer hangover."

Aubrey manages to not laugh as requested, but she does smile. "Can't get more committed than that."

"Tell me about it. But for a few months, it was good, it was okay. We partook in the benefits of a marriage, if you catch my drift."

Aubrey studies her face, as despite her cheerful innuendo, Monty is starting to frown. "So your first love ruined you for others, is that it?"

"Not exactly," Monty mutters, shifting in embarrassment. "I did love her, but we were young. Like I said, wanderin' eyes and all - I wasn't ready to be tied down to someone. I don't think she was either, honestly, and it strained not just the 'marriage' but also our relationship in general. It was just easier to let her go. So I did; she left and I haven't seen her since. I hear she got married again, though.

That was over ten years ago. I'm not the same person I was back then, but I don't want to ruin a relationship the way that I did with her. It's easier to let people come and go, if they ain't lookin' to get attached; and for those who are, I'm very careful about committing to them. If I fall for someone like that again, I don't want it to be a mistake."

"Pretty sad way to end it, if you loved her."

Monty rolls over and stares up at Aubrey’s ceiling in the dark. "Sometimes just love ain't enough."

Something about that strikes a cord in Aubrey both in the right way - it was certainly a practical stance, one she couldn't disagree with - yet strangely in a wrong way she can't name. "That'd make a good country song."

She feels Monty shift next to her. "You ever been in love, tough gal?"

Aubrey stiffens, thinking it over. "I don't know. Maybe when I was young." She clears her throat again. "Thank you for telling me about her. I hear dragonborn don't handle shame well, and I imagine it's something you're ashamed of."

Monty rolls them over to hover above her. "Now who's the detective?" She grins, touching Aubrey’s cheek. "Thank you for talkin' about your folks. I wouldn't wager you handle shame better than me."

Monty leans her head closer. "You wanna stop talkin' for a while?"

Aubrey doesn't hesitate. "God, yes."

--

"Baby, are you ever gonna tell that girl how you feel?"

"Ma can't we have a conversation without you tryin' to get me to propose to another gal?"

"I'm not gettin' any younger darlin'! But you are happy, aren't you? As much as she is?"

"I - I'm happy yea, but what d'you mean - "

"There ain't a single soul in that bar that ain't noticed the way she went from a bit of a priss to smilin' like crazy."

"Heh, she'd be real mad that you said that, Pa."

--

There is a shift for Aubrey that she finds she cannot deny, but is still refusing to say out loud. But since their open conversation about their pasts - and the implied tentative focus of their future - Aubrey has been struggling to ignore that her feelings were growing. 

Hell, if she stopped trying to fool herself, she could admit even she didn't think she would be unaffected by all of the time she and Monty were spending together. 

What really drove it home for her was last night, when she noticed Monty wink at another patron, who Aubrey later caught attempting to subtly sweet talk her into a dance. She and Monty were not exclusive and had not yet discussed changing such a status, so realistically Aubrey understood both she and Monty were free to flirt with whoever either of them wished to.

Regardless, that didn't stop the ugly and frankly foreign feeling of jealousy that spread across her chest. It's with only a little bit of shame, and a whole lot more satisfaction, that she called out to Monty, and, with just a raised eyebrow and a tilt of her head to the dance floor, asked her to dance. Monty responded immediately, politely excusing herself from the girl, shouting to Brunhilde that she's taking a break, and whisked her away. She ignored the knowing, shit-eating grin Monty gave her as she took Aubrey’s hand.

It felt different as well, the night they spent together after. There was something different in Monty's touch, in her kiss. It was still there when they parted ways this morning, and it was still here for her now as she tries to distract herself by working. 

"What the hell is wrong with me," she muses outloud to Incognito, who simply stares back with his beady black eyes.

Eventually she settles into a flow, broken by her phone ringing. Not taking her eyes off the sentence she's re-reading, she answers, "Hey, Cowboy."

"Damn, when did you become such a sweet talker?"

Aubrey startles, recognizing Angelica's voice but still checking the caller ID anyway. She clears her throat. "What do you want, Ang?"

"Down girl, I'm just teasing. So things are going well with you and the bartender?"

Aubrey taps her pen against the desk. "It's going...fine. There have been some dates, and other such activities."

Angelica laughs on the other end. "Huh, it's a bit weird to think of you with a girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"You're still dating around?"

"Well no, but we're not exclusive."

"So it's not serious?"

Aubrey hesitates at Angelica's leading voice. "I'll admit I've been seeing a lot of her, but we're not 'a thing', no. And before you ask, yes we are in fact on the same page on that."

"Good, 'cause I was."

"Ang," Aubrey says firmly, turning in her chair and crossing her legs. "Why are you being so nosy right now?"

There's a sound over the line like Angelica is fidgeting with something. "We got a hit on Reidra."

Aubrey drops her pen. "You what?"

"We got a lead today. Someone might be willing to talk. If this goes through - there's a chance it could be nothing, maybe just a cliff note in your research but if it's something, just think of the leads you could track down. It might even lead us to an Eye."

"What makes you think this lead is good?"

"Oliver damn well knows not to bring this up unless it's credible."

Aubrey tries, and fails, to stem the excited feeling in her chest, getting up to pace. "Gods, Ang, I've been waiting for this for ages, do you know what this means? If I get on this now, who knows what else - "

Said feeling immediately drops into her stomach like a weight. "I'd have to leave."

"You'd have to at least leave for the interview."

"Which should only take a few days to coordinate."

"Right. But if this lead is as good as we think, you could be following that rabbit hole for who knows how long."

Aubrey rubs her forehead. "This is why you were asking about Monty."

"...Yeah. It's a bit easier now that I know you're not like in love with her or whatever. But I know this won't be easy either way. I wanted to be sure you heard it first."

"First?"

"Aubrey," Angelica's tone turns sharp, like a chiding mother. "If you turn this down and stay in Sharn, my next pick is Avexa."

"Avexa? " Aubrey's voice rises an embarrassing octave. "That fucking brown-noser doesn't know shit about Riedra! Ang, you know how important the Riedra project is to me but I'd rather you give it to Oliver than Avexa."

Despite the situation, Angelica bursts out laughing. "Hence why we are having this conversation, immediately. I can give you a week to think it over, if you need it."

Aubrey feels the wind knocked out of her. She sinks to her chair. "I can do the interview."

"And if there's an after?"

"Two weeks."

"Done. Good luck."

"Thank you for letting me know. I - I know it doesn't seem like it, but I appreciate it."

"Listen, Bree, as your boss I expect the best from you. But as your friend, I hope you make the best choice for you."

A feeling rises up Aubrey’s throat that would have never been there had she not met the Greys. "...You know I hate that nickname."

-

She is upfront with Monty that she has to leave for work, as she always is. She even admits to her that this is a lead she's been desperate for, but withholds what the lead is, which Monty respects. Almost worse, Monty clearly picks up on the undercurrent of excitement Aubrey is feeling despite her turmoil, and is happy for her, whatever she finds out. 

Despite herself, Aubrey almost wishes the lead would be a dead end. It isn't. 

It's the most credible lead they have found yet, and it becomes clear wherever it leads next would be months, maybe even years of research, something Angelica confirms once her information is turned over.

Her two weeks ticking, Aubrey is ashamed at the way she delays the discussion she owes to Monty, but when her usual Friday visit comes around, she can't avoid it.

Channeling that more carefree person she used to be before she went soft, she kisses Monty as soon as she sees her. "You wanna get outta here?"

Monty raises an eyebrow with a grin, probably with a flirt or a tease on her lips, before Brunhilde pushes her out of the way, jumping onto a stool and taking her spot behind the bar. "G'on, shoo, I've got the house today. I've got a cute lass comin' in tonight and I don't need you two droolin' over her."

Something about that puts Aubrey more at ease, and Monty walks her home in a mostly comfortable silence. Mostly being the key word, as once she steps inside her nerves strike her so fully she has to pour herself a generous glass of wine, only remembering to offer Monty some at the last minute.

Monty, for her part, is patient with her, sitting next to her on the couch but not pushing her to talk.

Finally, taking a few breaths and rubbing her forehead, Aubrey starts. "My interview went really well."

Raising an eyebrow, Monty chuckles. "And yet you look like you've seen a ghost because…?"

She sighs. "It's a strong lead. It could lead to a crazy amount of research into Reidra."

"Reidra? That country across the sea that everyone and their ma has conspiracy theories about?"

"That's the one." Monty watches as she takes another sip. "It's not all conspiracy theory. Some of it is true. There's a massive cover up in Reidra about their supposed Utopia and I've been following it for years."

"Ah, it's your Black Dragon, huh?"

Aubrey tilts her head. "My what?"

"You know, Celeste Noir. It's that book about the ranger who goes absolutely batshit tryin' to track down and kill a black dragon that ate his leg. Geesh, aren't you supposed to be a smarty pants? It's a classic."

"I tried but it was boring," Aubrey admits out of the side of her mouth. "I like things with a little more espionage and less wilderness."

"I was only hooked 'cause it was about a dragon, but you got a lotta nerve implyin' espionage isn't borin'."

Aubrey's smile at Monty trying to lighten the mood only lasts so long. "Monty my - my accent. It's Reidran. I'm from Reidra."

Her eyes widen. "Oh. Oh! No wonder you're so worked up. This is personal for you."

"We've never gotten a lead as good as this." Again she feels that excitement in her gut and she stands up to start pacing. "This could be our only chance to start digging. Really start digging. Who knows what we could find or expose, who knows what -"

"You'd have to leave."

Monty's voice pushes the excitement out of her, and she comes to stand in front of her. "...Yeah. I'd have to leave. It could be weeks, or it could be months - or it could be years."

"And you gotta do it?"

"I could say no. Angelica has another lined up if I turn it - "

She jumps to her feet, grabbing Aubrey by the wrists to hold her hands to her chest. "Don't you dare say no. Are you crazy? This is yours, don't you give it away."

"I - I've been waiting for this for years but I'm still not sure."

"Because of me?"

Aubrey has to take a few beats before looking up at her. "Yes."

Monty's eyes study her face. "Would you leave tomorrow?"

"I have to tell Angelica in a few days, and would leave shortly after. Maybe in a week. I'll come back, I just - I don't know how long - "

Monty cups her face and kisses her, practically crushing their lips together; Aubrey tangles her fingers into her shirt and pulls her closer, unprepared for the rising emotion in her throat as Monty's fingers comb through her hair and caress her cheek.

Finally Monty pulls back a touch, and says against her mouth, "What the hell are you waitin' for? I'll be here when you get back."

It's a fruitless promise, optimistic at best and a lie at worst. Aubrey chooses to be optimistic.

-

"And you're sure about this? Monty is just gonna let you go?"

"We aren't - you don't have to keep mentioning her."

"And you're not just doing this to stick it to Avexa?"

"Just send me the paperwork, and yes, of course I am."

--

Monty doesn't see Aubrey for much of the week, as she expects. They had tentative plans to meet up before her last day in Sharn for who knows how long, and Monty wants to be upset at the slight cold-shoulder but in all honesty, she's relieved at the chance to prepare and distance herself.

Aubrey was leaving next Wednesday, an absurd day to leave that almost made it humorous. The two had shared a quick moment in Runswick which didn't amount to more than stolen kisses in the back room, eventually leading to Aubrey leaving without Monty following. She had long since realized Aubrey didn't handle being emotional quite well, and so Monty had let her go.

If Monty thought she could get through Sunday lunch with her folks without them noticing her mood, she was sorely mistaken. She is pointedly cornered by her Ma while she is outside saying hello to Lonestar, Pa's horse, and Pennywhistle.

"Montgomery, are you nuts?"

"Ma! I already told you, it's okay."

Belle takes a breath and comes to stand next to her at the corral. "What part of this is okay? You're just gonna let her go?"

"She ain't my girlfriend; I know everyone jokes that she is, but she ain't."

"But you want her to be."

Monty doesn't answer, keeping her eyes on her bird as he struts across the wood.

"She's not Gentry, y'know."

Monty looks at her Ma sharply. "I know she isn't. Even if I was considerin'...bein' exclusive, I'm still not gonna stop her. This is important to her - if she stayed just for me and missed this opportunity, it'd ruin us."

"So go with her, dummy," Tequila's voice makes her jump, and she turns to see her friend sitting on Memphys' shoulder as they come to stand next to her.

Monty shakes her head frantically, fighting the rising feeling of potential and dread. "Now who's talkin' crazy? I can't leave Sharn. I can't leave the bar. I can't leave y'all."

"It's not forever, darlin'. We'll still be here when you get back, whether that's with her or without her."

Monty's heart pounds. "I - I'm not cut out for the kind of work she does, it wouldn't - I'd just get in her way."

Tequila nudges her. "So just find some temporary jobs. You're good at a lotta stuff. Hell you could just suit up at an antique shop for a while and sell old pistols."

"She might appreciate the company. She's not as much of a lone wolf as she thinks she is."

Her brow furrowed at how simple they were making it seem, Monty still shakes her head. She hadn't been far from her family since college, and the thought mortified her in a way that still didn't eclipse the growing hope in her gut. "I - I couldn't -"

"Montgomery," Memphys says finally. "You love this gal?"

Struck by the question, Monty shuts her eyes. She takes a breath and opens them slowly. "Yes. But it doesn't matter."

"Darlin'. That's all that matters."

--

It's about sunset on Monday when Monty all but charges through Aubrey's door as soon as she opens it. 

"Hi," she says.

Aubrey raises an eyebrow at the way she's fidgeting with her fingers. "Hey, Cowboy - "

"What if I come with you?"

"Well, that's not the sexiest way you could have phrased that but - "

She snorts. "Don't distract me and you know what I mean."

Aubrey does, but she's not in the mood to entertain flights of fancy. "I can't ask you to do that," she amends, turning on her heel in a silent invitation to follow her. 

"You aren't askin' me, I'm askin' you, Palomino. What if?"

Monty refuses to sit and starts pacing around her living room. Something about it calms down the way Aubrey’s heart had started pounding as what is being asked of her sets in. "It doesn't matter. You can't leave your family, and frankly I'm not sure I'd allow it."

"They're the ones that pushed me to do this. Ma all but kicked my ass over this."

Despite herself, Aubrey has to laugh. "And what about Runswick? Be sensible, Monty," she adds, more to curb her own growing thoughts of the possibility.

Monty stops pacing and comes to stand in front of her. "Brunhilde can take care of it, and we could even train Ororo to support her, and they'll both have my folks."

"And Pennywhistle?"

"Tequila and my folks will keep up his trainin'. They could watch Incognito for you too, or Grixie, if you're worried about movin' him. I think Tequila really liked him, it was her suggestion."

Dammit, she was a little worried. Some of her assignments required a lot of moving around and this could be no different. 

"What would you even do? Just keep my bed warm?"

"Not a bad idea, but I know how to find work. I'm a skilled bartender, 'case you forgot. And a good bouncer, if you need me to shake down some folks out there for ya."

Shit, that wasn't a bad idea either. "And your friends?"

"They'll be alright without me for a bit, they'll live."

Aubrey tilts her chin up. "And would you be okay without them? Without your family? Would you honestly be okay, Monty?"

Here Monty seems to stumble, stuttering; her answer is tellingly delayed, and Aubrey sighs. "You've really thought this through and it's very sweet of you, but again, I can't ask you to do this. It could be months. It could be years, Montgomery! You'd be leaving everything, and for what?"

"Because I'm in love with you."

Aubrey takes a step back, sucking in air sharply, and if her heart had been pounding before, it was racing now. "What?"

Monty takes her by the wrists. "I'm crazy about you. I - I don't want to let you go. I'm tired of lettin' girls go."

Aubrey studies her face. "You said love wasn't enough."

"It wasn't, because I didn't fight for her. I was young and stupid and didn't hold on. I - I want to hold on to you. I love you and I'm with you through this, wherever it takes you. If you'll have me. That's - that's really what I wanted to say; I couldn't live with myself if I let you go without tellin' you."

Gripping Monty's hands, Aubrey has to untangle her tumbling thoughts. Fighting for someone - could she do it? She didn't think she was the kind of person who held on to anyone, it was what made her so good at her job. She didn't form connections, didn't miss anyone when it was time to leave, and she didn't cry over it.

But she wasn't that person anymore, was she? How many more lonely birthdays would she have to spend before she realized she couldn't rely on the excuse that her parents and her country taught her to be cold-hearted? She would miss Sharn, even for a few months. She would miss Runswick, and the Greys. 

She would miss Monty.

Wasn't it nice to have something worth fighting for? 

Aubrey feels her lips pull back in an honest to god beam. "Well - if you had told me I'd fall in love with a cowboy wannabe, I never would have believed it."

Monty's voice jumps an octave. "Wannab - ?"

Aubrey kisses her, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling her down. It seems to take Monty's brain a second to catch up before she wraps her up and kisses her back, and Aubrey has to practically stand on tip toe to meet her.

Monty pulls back and with a shameless laugh, lifts her up by the hips and spins her around, and Aubrey has to stifle what is definitely not a giggle - Aubrey does not giggle.

"So we doin' this? We're goin' after that Black Dragon?"

"I guess so! I have - oh, shit," she turns in Monty's arms, looking up at her computer room as if Angelica was up there. "Ang isn't going to take too kindly to this."

"I'll pay my way, whatever it takes. She doesn't have to do anythin'."

Aubrey thinks for a moment. She thinks about how Monty picked up on her accent even when no else, even herself, had before. She thinks about how Monty can cast Message and Mage Hand, and other types of subtle, undetectable magic. She thinks about how Monty is undoubtedly a people person who could get anyone to talk where Aubrey might not.

"Actually...."

She whips her head around and Monty raises an eyebrow as she sets her down. "How would you feel about getting to play detective?"

Monty grins at her. "I don't like it as much as keepin' your bed warm, but I think it'll do."

--

--

It does, in reality, take about two and half years of tracking down connections, conducting interviews in secret, sleepless nights of research, and following lead after lead after lead. But they do it - Aubrey finally finds the connection that leads her to an Eye. Finally, after listening to conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory for fifteen years, Aubrey finds what she has been searching for. 

Realistically, Aubrey knows this is just a drop in a bucket, rain in the ocean. There is nothing she could do on her own - there is nothing the Estrella could do on its own - to really dig out the truth of what is going on in her former country. But it's a conversation starter, it's the first fallen domino, it's a piece of truth amongst the lies. It's a personal victory that unknots something in her chest, the relief of which on its own justifies the decision to bring Monty with her when she cries in her arms the night she turns over her last piece of information.

As promised, Monty is with her each step of the way. She doesn't officially join the Estrella - even if Angelica wasn't completely against the idea - but she accompanies her for most of her research. Aubrey was correct in assuming Monty would be pretty valuable when holding an interview - the accent and flirty dragon smile was enough to put most of her contacts at ease and talk openly, as well as correct in her assumption that Monty had some crazy good insight as a bartender. By Monty's insistence, she acts as an adequate bodyguard too, although nothing threatening ultimately happens, not that Aubrey would have a way to know if Monty was the reason for that or not.

It isn't all sunshine and whiskey though, not that either of them thought it would be. There's an adjustment period; for both of them certainly, but it becomes clear the adjustment is harder for Aubrey than it is for Monty. Aubrey is not used to sharing her space with anyone, much less someone she truly cared about. The occasional fights are inevitable, including a particularly savage one about six months into their endeavor that Aubrey would later blame on stress and lack of sleep. But without fail, Monty would eventually stop the fight, no matter who was at fault, turn on music and wordlessly coax her into slow dancing with her until they both calmed down enough to apologize, talk like adults, or both.

It was apparently something Monty had seen Memphys do for Belle since she was old enough to witness their fights, and Aubrey is not sure if she is comforted or concerned to be compared to a married couple, but it made her smile to think about regardless. As does the realization that it went to show how much Monty wanted to keep her promise to not let her go, even if 'not letting go' simply meant not going to bed mad.

But times like that were, thankfully, few and far between, and they don't eclipse the moments that make her grateful to not be out here alone. Moments like Monty baiting her into a faux en garde with an empty paper towel roll, only to get her ass kicked with Aubrey's rolled up newspaper; Monty teaching her how to play a tune on her fiddle; staying up with her until 2am so Monty could hold a chat with her parents or friends on their time; wasting days wandering the city or town they're in with no destination in mind; bar hopping dates that start a new collection for Monty as she keeps a bottle of whatever is "signature best" from each place they live in; seeing a herd of wild horses for the first time in her life, only for Monty to point to one and say "that's you!"

She had sort of said it in jest, but if someone had tried to tell Aubrey she was compatible with a bright gold dragon who talked like someone out of a western movie and sang country music all day, she would have laughed in their face.

If someone had told her in three years she would eventually be settling down in Sharn with a cowboy styled bartender who ran her family's country themed bar; that she would be content indulging in fencing, fiddle tunes, karaoke nights, whiskey, and city gossip with friends; that she would have regular Sunday lunch or dinner with an honest to god family; and she was no longer chasing a seemingly fruitless theory and would instead chase her chance at happiness, she frankly would have never believed it.

But damn, if Aubrey wasn't the happiest she'd been in her life.

-

"Monty, if we're late for the wedding because of your little date with Margo, I don't think Del and Liseran will forgive us."

"You jest, but after the tip she just passed to me, I could kiss her."

Aubrey chuckles, adjusting Monty's frantically tied bow-tie; although Margo was not part of the Estrella, the three of them passed on leads to each other on the occasion, starting when Aubrey had passed Margo a tip on the Labor Disputes in Sharn right before she left on her Reidra endeavor. It was a cute little friendship the two had, and the flirting was harmless.

"What've you got?"

"Good god you look good in that dress, Palomino."

"Monty."

Monty blushes. "Right, right," she says, twisting to pull over some files she had tossed on the table before rushing to get her suit on. "Take a look."

Aubrey leans up on her tiptoes to look over Monty's shoulder, easier to do in her heels. Looking up at her is a half page of notes, a phone number, and a photo of a smug looking man who looked familiar.

"Do I know him?"

"Hass Tain. The creep who tried to spike your drink that first night I walked you home."

"Hass?" Aubrey immediately feels excitement travel up her spine. "You got something?"

"Somethin' ?" Monty grins proudly. "I might have everythin'. I knew that smarmy bastard was up to somethin' and we're about to figure it out."

Aubrey tilts her chin with a smile. "Your Golden Fiddle?"

"Look we're gonna party tonight - but after, I wanna take this man down."

"Alright - I'm with you. Let's take his ass to Georgia."

..

.