Second Chances Epilogue
Disclaimers in Part 1.
Mid afternoon was the quietest time at Midnite’s. Too early for the after-work crowd, many patrons probably didn’t even know the club was open.
Sebastian was washing glasses behind the bar, a thin line of white scar just barely visible against his tanned face. The lone patron was a halfbreed demon - a relative newcomer to the club, Sebastian hadn’t seen him around more than once or twice - sitting at the counter, drinking heavily and too fast.
“I saw you, you know,” said the customer.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” said the customer. “The other night. You were on your knees to that mortal. That exorcist.”
Sebastian put down the now-dry glass, picked up a wet one, began wiping it. “Word to the wise: you go snooping around this place, you’ll see worse things than that. Better stick to the club rooms proper. You go poking into Midnite’s hidey holes, good chance you won’t get back out again.”
“Why are you whoring yourself to that mortal? What’s he got on you?”
Sebastian’s eyes glinted, not with amusement, but his voice purred. “You’re so kind to show an interest in my personal life. Now *fuck off*.”
The demon stood up from his barstool. “Know what they’re calling you? The exorcist’s dog. His slut.”
“Pretty language,” said Constantine, sweeping into the room and up to the bar. “Who’s the out-of-towner?” he asked Sebastian, pointedly not looking at the drunk.
“Some guy that’s keeping track of who’s giving and receiving oral services around here,” said Sebastian.
“Hey, you get one 15 minute break every two hours, and it's none of his goddam business what you do with them,” said Constantine. “What does a man have to do to get a whiskey around here?”
Sebastian grinned, swiveled to pick up a bottle. While his back was turned, the inebriated demon grabbed Constantine and slammed him against the countertop. “You - “
Superhumanly fast, Sebastian was suddenly on the other side of the bar, yanking the drunken demon off Constantine. “You don’t touch him,” he hissed into the demon’s ear. “Not unless he asks you to.”
Sebastian marched the drunk to the stairway, gave him a shove. “Get out of here. Club’s closed. Go sleep it off.”
As Sebastian returned, Constantine said, “I’m still waiting for my drink. Service sucks around this place.”
“You should know.” Sebastian poured the whiskey, handed it over. “That guy called me your dog.”
“I heard him. Should I buy you a collar?”
Sebastian smirked. “Want me to hump your leg?”
Constantine tossed his whiskey back, clapped the empty glass down on the bar. “I’m going to Haiti.”
Sebastian snorted. “Have a good time. Place is a shithole.”
“I’ve got an errand. Want to come along?”
Sebastian tossed down the dishrag and considered. “If we can hit the Caymans on the way.”
“The Caymans?” asked Constantine.
“I’m out of BZR, but it’s a poor businessman who doesn’t plan for his retirement.” Sebastian tapped his temple. “I remembered that I have a few offshore accounts that I should check on.”
“Offshore accounts? And you’re slumming it, working for Midnite and crashing at my place?”
The halfbreed said, “I like working bar. But our living arrangements could definitely stand some improvements. I’ve been wondering what you’d say to new digs in the Hollywood Hills. Think about it, Johnny: great views, heated pool…
Constantine shook his head in resignation. “Temptation, temptation. You never quit, do you?”
END
Mid afternoon was the quietest time at Midnite’s. Too early for the after-work crowd, many patrons probably didn’t even know the club was open.
Sebastian was washing glasses behind the bar, a thin line of white scar just barely visible against his tanned face. The lone patron was a halfbreed demon - a relative newcomer to the club, Sebastian hadn’t seen him around more than once or twice - sitting at the counter, drinking heavily and too fast.
“I saw you, you know,” said the customer.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” said the customer. “The other night. You were on your knees to that mortal. That exorcist.”
Sebastian put down the now-dry glass, picked up a wet one, began wiping it. “Word to the wise: you go snooping around this place, you’ll see worse things than that. Better stick to the club rooms proper. You go poking into Midnite’s hidey holes, good chance you won’t get back out again.”
“Why are you whoring yourself to that mortal? What’s he got on you?”
Sebastian’s eyes glinted, not with amusement, but his voice purred. “You’re so kind to show an interest in my personal life. Now *fuck off*.”
The demon stood up from his barstool. “Know what they’re calling you? The exorcist’s dog. His slut.”
“Pretty language,” said Constantine, sweeping into the room and up to the bar. “Who’s the out-of-towner?” he asked Sebastian, pointedly not looking at the drunk.
“Some guy that’s keeping track of who’s giving and receiving oral services around here,” said Sebastian.
“Hey, you get one 15 minute break every two hours, and it's none of his goddam business what you do with them,” said Constantine. “What does a man have to do to get a whiskey around here?”
Sebastian grinned, swiveled to pick up a bottle. While his back was turned, the inebriated demon grabbed Constantine and slammed him against the countertop. “You - “
Superhumanly fast, Sebastian was suddenly on the other side of the bar, yanking the drunken demon off Constantine. “You don’t touch him,” he hissed into the demon’s ear. “Not unless he asks you to.”
Sebastian marched the drunk to the stairway, gave him a shove. “Get out of here. Club’s closed. Go sleep it off.”
As Sebastian returned, Constantine said, “I’m still waiting for my drink. Service sucks around this place.”
“You should know.” Sebastian poured the whiskey, handed it over. “That guy called me your dog.”
“I heard him. Should I buy you a collar?”
Sebastian smirked. “Want me to hump your leg?”
Constantine tossed his whiskey back, clapped the empty glass down on the bar. “I’m going to Haiti.”
Sebastian snorted. “Have a good time. Place is a shithole.”
“I’ve got an errand. Want to come along?”
Sebastian tossed down the dishrag and considered. “If we can hit the Caymans on the way.”
“The Caymans?” asked Constantine.
“I’m out of BZR, but it’s a poor businessman who doesn’t plan for his retirement.” Sebastian tapped his temple. “I remembered that I have a few offshore accounts that I should check on.”
“Offshore accounts? And you’re slumming it, working for Midnite and crashing at my place?”
The halfbreed said, “I like working bar. But our living arrangements could definitely stand some improvements. I’ve been wondering what you’d say to new digs in the Hollywood Hills. Think about it, Johnny: great views, heated pool…
Constantine shook his head in resignation. “Temptation, temptation. You never quit, do you?”
END