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WHO: Duke Crocker; Seifer; Nick; OTA
WHAT: New roommate, new city, new friends
WHERE: The dorms, Isolated Pawn, and Rick's
WHEN: Dec. 8ish? onward

The Dorms – for Seifer
New dimension, new city, new reality, same old Duke. Sure, he only had himself to blame after jumping into another dimension to save his friend, and he really should know better than to assume anything by this point. Even a screaming neon acid trip of a city staffed by Terminators. Trouble like this – if it was a Trouble – needed research. He needed to regroup, rest, figure out where he stood.

Which sounded a lot harder with a roommate.

Sharing his space has never been his favorite thing to do, and it usually never lasted long. Even living with his wife had gotten frustrating, although hopefully his roommate wouldn't be an Evi type and overly interested in what he was doing. Hopefully he'd be able to make some space for himself, set up comfortably, make a home his castle complete with convenient hiding places.

That's why his disappointment shows on his face when he opens the door. It's tiny, there's not even a closet, and hiding would be almost impossible without scuttling under one of the desks or beds. “Once again I'm thankful I didn't go to college,” he quips, stepping in. “Hi. Duke Crocker. You should know, I sleep in the raw.”

Isolated Pawn – OTA
Duke was pretty sure he'd seen the Dualis employment assignment model in a sci-fi show, which was unsettling but not surprising at all. He half-hoped for something futuristic and glamorous like an internship with Star Fleet, or at least not delivery boy, and is only half-disappointed by his assignment. Pawnbroker? Okay, at least maybe he'd get to work with some sci-fi stuff.

It turns out Isolated Pawn has a significant amount of stuff, both sci-fi and less so. It also has an aging owner who is grateful for the help and encourages him to familiarize himself with everything. His first few days of work find him mostly puttering around the shop taking in the stock, puzzling over power tools for people with tentacle appendages and full-spectrum light artwork, but after that he's behind the counter, a confident man.

“Everything's for sale,” he greets the customer with. “Except Gertie. She stays here.” He gestures to a taxidermied marlin on a stand, a pirate hat on her head at a jaunty angle. “What can I help you with?”

Rick's – for Nick
All the best bars are dives, the girl had said. Professionally speaking he disagrees – the Grey Gull isn't a dive so much as it was an event space, and while his own bar will always be his favorite he immediately likes the atmosphere at Rick's. Dim lights, old pictures hanging on the walls, cigarette smoke in the air, a stage at the back of the room (empty tonight), all wrapped around a lively but small crowd getting comfortably toasted after their work shifts; Rick's felt like the kind of cornerstone old watering hole where an ancient bartender would pour you a domestic beer without asking and explain it was your granddad's usual.

Except the woman behind the counter is too young to pull that off. Too fun, too. He checks his phone – yeah, just a few minutes early – and settles at the bar, waiting for her to come over to him. “Hey,” he smiles when she gets to him. “I'll take two of whatever you like best.”

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Oh, Nick is definitely interested, and if all goes well, that should be crystal-clear to Duke before the night is over. She’s a little nervous about how this date will go - she hasn’t actually gone on a proper date with someone before, and it’s taken her several years to begin considering the possibility of dating again, after Kennedy. A lot has happened during those years, a lot of personal changes for her, inside and out. But Duke seems like he’ll be worth the risk.

She grins at the compliment and murmurs thanks, nodding to answer his guess about the drink. “You know your booze,” she says, “and yeah, it’s local, called Zhezekai. There’s a distillery up in the north end of town, if you’re interested. They do tours and have a little bar where you can try their stuff. I haven’t been, but I heard it’s pretty cool.”

Nick wipes down a spill on the back end of the bar, something to do to keep from fidgeting nervously. “A theme song, huh? I guess I could take a stab at writin’ one. Can’t guarantee it’d be any good, but ... Rick might enjoy that.”

She shrugs and glances at her watch again. Work time’s up. “See ya in a few,” she confirms, and disappears into the back room. She emerges a few minutes later with a black button-up (cuffs undone) layered over the T-shirt she’d worn for work (also black, of course, with a faded white design for a band), a dark-wash denim jacket and black knit scarf slung over her arm, and her signature deep red lipstick touched up.

“Fancy seeing you here. This seat taken?” she asks, jokingly, when she reaches Duke on the other side of the bar.

The thing about a proper date was that it shouldn't be high-pressure, it should just be fun. Duke enjoys setting them up and is pretty sure Nick will enjoy what he's got in mind for the evening, and that's all it needed to be right now: two people having fun. However they ended up, that's enough for this moment. That was the happy little bit of normality Duke wants back after everything he's been through -- the Troubles, his dad's legacy, losing Evi, doing what had to be done, Audrey, the Barn, alien neon city.

It's been a rough year for him. Makes it all the easier to appreciate a beautiful woman with a rebellious streak.

"I too have experience in adult beverages," he admits with a grin in return. "Zhezekai, sounds worth checking out. See, this is why I asked you." He's definitely going to check that out, and will probably invite her to join him if tonight went well.

He raises his glass to her as she heads off, sipping the Zhezekai. When she comes back he smiles at her, taking in the new outfit with aesthetic appreciation for her look and the reassurance that his ideas for the night were probably up Nick's alley. He plays along with her game when she nears the seat, acting scrutinizing for a second. "I was saving it for someone, but why not."

Turning on his seat to face her, he rests an elbow against the bar. "So," he begins, "you're a musician?"

Normality is something Nick’s wondered for years if she would ever find again, and going on a date with a cute, witty guy is a step in that direction. Nick can’t remember the last time she did something fun where the immediate threat of danger wasn’t looming on the horizon, ready to swarm in at any moment. Dualis is dangerous, sure, but not openly, and tonight, Nick is purely herself - not an agent of the Heart, not a Nightbane in hiding, just Nick.

She slides into the saved seat next to Duke and drapes jacket and scarf across her lap, then mirror’s Duke’s posture in facing him while leaning an elbow against the bar. The light in the bar may be dim, but from this closer perspective, it’s easy to feel drawn in by Duke’s eyes, and Nick can’t stop a warm smile from curving across her face.

“I am, actually,” she says with a nod. “Used to sing in a band back in Chicago - also played a mean tambourine. I picked up some guitar and songwriting after the band blew up, took a break for a while, picked it up again with a cowriter when I lived in Omaha ... took another break, then I ended up on a ship with a lot of time on my hands, so I mostly just practiced and wrote some more to keep myself busy and outta trouble. And then I ended up here.” She shrugs. “Less time on my hands, but Rick lets me play here on some of my nights off, so I’m gettin’ plenty of exposure. And I haven’t been booed outta the place yet, so I must be doing OK. Crowds here’re a little nicer than in Chicago.”

She laughs at herself, suddenly aware that she hasn’t been able to take her eyes off Duke this entire time. “What about you? Any hidden talents I should know about?”

Normality sneaks in between threats of danger like seeds on the wind and buds in strange places. It had to. If it didn't, the threat of danger became unbearable. Without normality people didn't get to be themselves and forgot who they were protecting. Normality's inevitable no matter where you are. There's comfort in that, Duke thinks. Comfort now.

Also, relief. He'd kind of needed this -- not the ego boost of Nick's interest, or the anticipated fun of their evening, or even her inviting smile. Just knowing he could feel close to someone in this city/dimension/whatever it was made him feel far more human. He'll have to thank her for that. He leans in under the guise of better hearing her, casting a glance over her and lingering on her garnet-painted lips. He's not too sneaky about it.

"So you've been at it for awhile. When do you play?" He wouldn't mind coming back to Rick's and checking out one of her sets. "And what genre? Straight-up punk? Angry girl rock?" Fully recognizing that if Nick played it, any type of song could become angry girl rock. "I bet you're better than just exposure-level. Have you looked into doing shows anywhere else?" Plenty of venues in Dualis offered live music, he knows that after researching for tonight.

"Nothing that impressive," he laughs. "But, in the interests of honesty, I do own a ukulele. Or at least I did. My staff asked me to stop taking it to work."

If Nick knew what Duke was thinking about feeling more human with her, she'd need to confess to feeling the same. It's been difficult to reorient herself since her Becoming; she's accepted her Nightbane identity and recognized that being a monster doesn't make her a bad person unless she chooses to be one, but she still has a sharp awareness of the fact that she isn't entirely human the way that she was before. Doing something this normal makes it easy for Nick to forget about that. Duke makes it easy for her to forget about everything except him - his smile, the way his voice curls warmly in her ears, even his stupidly charming sweater.

"Got a gig on Tuesday - well, not that this is really a gig, just somethin' I do for fun. Livens up the place a bit, y'know? Rick's been good to me, I don't mind givin' back a little. Anyway, I play a mix of things - no punk, through I do love the Clash. Usually it's some Stones, some Bowie, a little bit of the Cure and Joy Division here and there, and then my own stuff, which ... I don't really know how to describe?" She laughs, because a musician should probably be able to describe her own music better. "Kinda sad, I guess? But not in a whiny emo kid way, or a slit-your-wrists depressing way. If it was a full band, it'd probably have a lot of minor-key piano or keyboard parts in it. Could probably call it goth, but not like, stupid goth. I told my - um, this kid I knew, where I was before here, that I was gonna write a whole concept album someday about all the weird shit I've been through, disguise it like fiction. Get my very own Ziggy Stardust-style schtick going. Haven't made a lot of progress on that yet, but I'm gettin' there." She grins and shakes her head. "Haven't really looked into branching out anywhere else. I work a lot, so I don't have a ton of free time. And I always did better when I was just singing and letting the others play the actual music of the songs, but I'm not as good on my own, just me and a guitar. Maybe someday I'll be that good." Maybe someday she won't be fighting for her life against a city run by homicidal AI, or something equally horrible.

"A ukulele, huh?" That draws a wide grin across Nick's face. "Now I think I need to know how you even picked up a ukulele in the first place, 'cause I gotta say - out of all the musicians I've met before now, none of 'em ever played a ukulele." And that's another oddly charming piece to the Duke Crocker puzzle.

Nights like this, with company and conversation and decent booze in a comfortable bar, had always helped him keep his sanity back in Haven no matter how dire things had gotten. It had helped a lot of people, some more like Nick than she might expect, feel human too. This -- she -- made him feel like he hadn't just been spit out of another dimension disguised as a teleporting building, so as far as he was concerned this evening was a win already.

When they first met Duke had told Nick she was pretty. That was still true, but watching her talk about music revealed something more notable than beauty: interest, a passion for something bigger than herself. Duke had met more than a few burnouts in bands over the years, and while some of them had been decent they'd mostly been as interested in looking cool as creating something. Nick didn't talk about music like she was chasing rock stardom, or the lifestyle that went along with it. She talked about music purely as a joy, almost like it was a happy accident she made it at all. An honest artist, the type of girl Duke had secretly adored in high school. He was definitely going to have to come back on Tuesday night.

"That's a pretty serious commitment to music for just something you do for fun," he points out. "Though I should've guessed the Cure influence. I can definitely see that old-school goth vibe." Nick was more black t-shirts and clove cigarettes, less becorsetted vampires and fainting couches. "Are you doing the acoustic guitar and mic thing? If you want a full band there have to be musicians around here looking for a vocalist." He knew there's a music scene in Dualis because he'd spent the afternoon researching that night's shows on the city's network. And while he knows more than enough to be suspicious of the city itself, he sees no reason to distrust the people who live there.

Duke blinks at her question, giving her a mild look. "Hawaii. Where else do you pick up a ukulele?" He keeps it up through another sip of whiskey but the expression's replaced by a warm smile soon after. "It's a better instrument than you think. Could make a good accompaniment to a Ziggy Stardust-type character." A beat, considering: "Well, depending what story you told." Please, Nick, feel free to share.

Nick never chased stardom because she never wanted that kind of attention. Hell, she didn't even want to be in a band in the first place; it'd taken weeks of wheedling before she'd finally given in to Kennedy's will. Even so, she hadn't enjoyed being in the spotlight, but she'd loved singing. She still loves singing, and she loves making beautiful sounds with a guitar - but the idea of playing for larger groups of people than those who make their way to Rick's doesn't hold much appeal for Nick.

She offers a faint smile and shrugs lightly. "I dunno if it's commitment - I just really like music, y'know? It's one of the only things that's kept me together throughout my life. My, um ... my dad died when I was a kid." Her expression takes a shadow of somberness with the admission. "He really loved music, and - Ma didn't keep much of his stuff after he was gone, but I managed to save a box of his tapes. That's what I had to remember him by. So I'd listen to those tapes on my Walkman, and I guess it kinda felt like he was talkin' to me through the songs on those tapes. He used to take me out for drives in his old truck down gravel roads outside of the town where we lived, and he'd play those tapes and we'd both just sing along as loud as we could." She closes her eyes and smiles again. "Those were some of the best days of my life."

She inhales a deep breath and laughs, then shakes her head and looks up at Duke with a slightly sheepish grin. "Sorry, that was - that was probably too much, I think I heard you're not supposed to get too deep on a first date. Anyway, yeah, it's just me and a guitar. I'm not too into the idea of being in a full band again, you gotta do a lot of juggling around everyone's ideas and personalities and schedules, and the last one I was in blew up pretty bad. Ain't really got time for that. 'Sides, y'never know how long you're gonna be staying in a place like this." Sure, the Head claims everyone gets a year and then will be sent on their respective merry ways, but Nick knows for a fact that's not true. "I've been back and forth in places like this so many times, I've just learned to expect that you can easily end your night in one bed and wake up in another, in some completely different world."

She's talking too much - starting to ramble, she can feel it. She gets this way when she's nervous, and she's starting to wonder if she's saying the right things to lose Duke's interest. She got too serious for a bit there - probably time to turn back around to something lighter.

"So ... that tells me where you picked up ukulele, but not how." She grins teasingly. "Unless you're tryin' to tell me everyone who goes to Hawaii has mandatory ukulele lessons?" Which is a funny image, so she laughs. "Maybe you'll just have to show me what a good instrument it is sometime. Private demonstration, y'know?"

Serious as it was Duke can't be upset Nick brought up her dad. He listens, imagining driving down an unfinished road flanked by corn fields as old rock plays on the radio. It's a good thought, peaceful; no wonder that was an important memory to her. Reassuring, he shakes his head. "Nah, it's fine. Hard to talk about loving something without saying why, you know?" And she'd shared that they have something else in common.

"I get it. It can really suck to rely on someone else to do something you care about." Everything she says about the frustrations of bands, that's how Duke felt about working with other people most of his life. Hell, it was how he'd felt about working with his wife. That was why smuggling had been such an attractive option: aside from pickups and selling, his time and his operation were his alone. Sometimes he missed that, but bigger things had come up.

"What do you mean? You've been to a place like this before?" Now that was interesting. The Barn led Duke to Dualis, and he still wasn't convinced they weren't linked somehow. Did Nick have her own evil teleporting building? Did a Time Lord have a crush on her? He was going to need to get answers, but launching into an interrogation would be, as she said, a little deep for a first date. No reason to scare the cool girl off with a barrage of questions demanding how to get home. He's almost relieved when she turns things around to the ukulele again.

"Of course they do," he jokes back. "First thing when you land, they give you a lei. Then you learn the hula, then the ukulele. And sometimes if you go to a luau you can bribe the musicians into giving you a lesson." Now that's a fun idea, and he tilts his head. "Let me get my hands on one, and I will."

Nick's not trying to hide her history - she simply sometimes forgets who has already been told and who hasn't. Despite those flashes of nerves, she feels very comfortable with Duke, like they've known each other for a while instead of this being the second time they've ever talked. But despite her time traveling, she doesn't know anything about how to get home.

"Ah ... yeah, I guess I didn't mention that, huh?" She chuckles quietly, grinning again though slightly embarrassed. "Yeah ... I guess you could call me a veteran at getting shoved around bullshit places like this. It's been - four and half years? Maybe five? Who can keep track of time," she says, with an exaggerated wave of her hand. "Anyway, it's been a few years, and I've been back and forth a few times. First place was a city called Hadriel, full of monsters and run by assholes who called themselves gods. Did three tours there, with some time back home in between. Then I ended up on my very own season of Lost in Space, on a living space ship that was on the run from the space Nazis that created it. Got to see some interesting planets that way. And then I ended up here about a year ago, instead of where I was supposed to go when Navi's people sent everyone back home."

Fourteen months, actually - that's how long she's lived in Dualis. How much longer that will be the case depends on what happens with the Heart in the near future. Nick couldn't say she has a plan for how to get home. Even if they do manage to defeat the Head, everyone here may still be stuck forever.

But enough of that line of thought. Duke's joke about learning the ukulele brings a warm smile back to settle across her face. "Well, now I know what to expect, if I ever end up in Hawaii," she nods, mock-somberly. "I bet I could ask around and see who's got a ukulele for sale for ya. In fact, I seem to recall you sayin' something about letting me judge if you're any good with your hands. Ukulele sounds like a good place to start."

"No, you forgot that part." And man, was he grateful Nick hadn't led with that. Duke is used to a lot of crazy stuff, from the Ten Plagues of Exodus to aliens to time-traveling, but that? That was hard to swallow. Mostly because he didn't want to. Almost incredulous, he leans in a little and lowers his voice. "I got here by jumping into an evil magic teleporting barn. I thought it was a stretch I ended up coming out the other side. Are you telling me this just happens and people can get spat out anywhere? Places like that?" An alien city was comparatively normal after all that. What kind of hellhole had Audrey landed in?

He takes a moment to contemplate that, absently finishing the rest of his whiskey, before remembering that he is on a date, and dates were not great moments to face an existential crisis. There would be time for that later, time he won't take out of Nick's evening. Brooding in front of her and making her worry she'd disturbed him would make for a crappy first date, and it wasn't her fault she had been through something weird.

Nick gains his gratefulness for saving the moment with the double entendre. Now he really is going to have to get a ukulele, if just to make her laugh. Instead he turns back just as somberly and nods as if they've come to a grave agreement that will later be finalized by lawyers. "If that's what it takes," he nods. "I'll see what I can do." A laugh follows easily after that.

“Sorry.” And Duke’s reaction really does make Nick feel bad for the guy. She fiddles nervously with the scarf in her lap. “I guess I’ve been doin’ this for long enough it don’t feel weird anymore. I forget it ain’t like that for everyone.”

Nick’s curious whether Duke knew what this mystery barn was when he jumped into it, but it seems like a bad time to ask. She files the question away in her mind for later - maybe. If there is a later. No way of telling, and Nick prefers not to think about it. Setting expectations for future dates would be a bad idea - the date currently in progress is what she wants to focus on.

She gives Duke an apologetic smile and lightly clears her throat as he slips back into a better mood, joking back with her about the ukulele, which she continues: “I mean, that’s just an option. There’s plenty of other things you can do to show me how good you are with your hands.” If the rest of the date goes well, he may even have the opportunity to show her one or more of those things tonight.

That's not the answer he wants so he nods, registering it but putting it aside for later. The time to process that was not now. Now he gives her a rueful smile. "Hey, you can get used to anything eventually, right?" That much, he knows.

Duke had an idea of what the Barn was when he jumped into it, but what he'd most known was that he'd needed to save his friend from it. But now he was in Dualis, and while he knows he needs to find Audrey and get home, she isn't here and Nick is. He's sitting across from a beautiful creative rebel girl who makes him feel normal and is waiting to be brought out on a "real" date for the first time. He is not letting that slip by even if he has to buy a ukulele tonight.

"Oh, are there?" He grins, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers. "What are you thinking? Pinball competition? Basket-weaving? I'll conduct a band if you like." It's easy to smile back at her as he playfully ducks her insinuation. "Your options are reggae or metal. Choose wisely."

Edited 2020-01-01 07:46 (UTC)

"Hey, if you're gonna do basket-weaving, you better make it underwater basket-weaving." She grins. "Go big or go home, y'know?"

She's grateful that Duke seems to have taken her disclosure in stride, returning to the more joking topics of the evening. She has no way of knowing his concerns about Audrey, though if she did, she'd try to do a better job at consoling him over the possible locations she might've landed. Not everywhere she's traveled has been terrible. In fact, in more cases than not, the places she's been haven't been awful, though her stays on those planets were much shorter than her times in Hadriel or even here in Dualis.

She gives him an exaggerated expression of deep thinking, complete with mimed beard-stroking, and hmmms audibly. "Tough decision there. Might need to consult an outside source. Can I see one of those hands in question?" She holds one of hers out, palm up, asking for his.

"Sure thing. Point me to an all-night underwater basket-weaving factory and I'll show you the best basket you've ever seen." Since it seems like he's not going home anytime soon.

Concerns about Audrey are usually better off unvoiced: he reminds himself that if anyone could handle themselves in a rough place, it's Audrey. And Duke doesn't think it'd be a great date move to mention that he's looking for a different, specific woman. Nick didn't deserve to feel like a consolation prize. He was lucky to have met her.

He holds a hand up for her perusal, fingers spread. For what it's worth they are hands that have seen work recently, with calluses from ropes and mostly-healed burns from serving tacos at the Gull. "All yours. Just ignore the skin tone, pretend it works for reggae."

Nick's never felt like much of a prize of any kind, nor like a person that anyone would consider lucky to meet. She's been a convenience, a challenge, even a statement piece, but no one she's ever dated has chosen her simply for who she is like Duke has. If she knew he thought himself lucky to have met her, she'd admit that the sentiment is mutual. She already knows Duke makes her feel different - not just normal but special, for once. There's a spark of something between them, and Nick hopes she'll have the chance to explore the exact nature of it in time.

With a slightly crooked grin, Nick takes Duke's hand and holds it, palm up, in both of hers. She pretends to inspect the lines of his palm, playing at being a palm reader, hmming audibly again to sell the image. Finally, her eyes lift up to meet Duke's again, and she delivers her assessment.

"Well, your music-directing line here says metal, so that's what I'm gonna go with."

Clearly Nick hasn't been dating very good people. Duke's got nothing but failed relationships under his belt, including a failed marriage (or successful if you consider an estranged wife a good thing). He's a fun time who treats women well, but definitely doesn't think he should be anyone's highlight. He just knows fun, and that's what Nick is. How many girls fake palmistry to hold his hand? How could he not want to see where that leads?

"Interesting." He turns his hand over, taking one of hers in his. "I'm down to test it out if you are. Ready for some metal?"

She can be fun, though she hasn’t had much opportunity for it in recent years, and in the farther past that’s usually been a state enabled through liquid means. There’s a much stronger thrill of excitement in the fun she’s creating now, and it feels a lot more genuine than it has in the past. Nick’s heartbeat races when Duke takes her hand in his; the warmth of this connection gathers in her cheeks, just past where her wide, wide smile ends.

“Yeah,” she says, with a slight nod of her head. “Yeah, I am - ready whenever you are.” She gives Duke’s hand the tiniest squeeze, just a quick acknowledgement to reiterate one more time the height of her enthusiasm for whatever’s in store for the night ahead. “Lead the way, Maestro.”

Then she was overdue. If Nick had to be stuck in random dimensions, if she had to deal with the crap that came from a shift like that more than once, she deserved every ounce of fun she could get and Duke is happy to assist in making her smile like that. It's a good smile, the type that should happen often.

He paid for the drinks (the touchscreens here were so much fussier than just slapping some cash on the bar) and stood, helping Nick up like a Victorian gentleman. "I truly hope you're ready for something called Pestilential Hearse."

Nick takes the help up from her seat with a small mimed curtsy, but she loses her ability to play at being genteel when she hears the band's name. She bursts into a good-natured guffaw.

"Pestilential Hearse?" she repeats, like she can't believe she's heard Duke correctly. "Oh my god, that sounds like something my shitty ex-bandmate woulda suggested when we were comin' up with names for our band." She laughs again, genuinely amused. "These guys don't like, spray soda into the audience or anything like that, right? 'Cause if I need to bring a raincoat, we might need to make a quick stop."

"Pestilential Hearse," he affirms, barely managing to hold back a laugh. "That's their real name. I have no idea what they do when they perform, but it's probably terrible." Maybe they were the hardcore type that bled onstage, but with a band name that silly they might not even have the showmanship to splash soda.

"If you want to stop off somewhere, we can. Band's not going to stop playing because we're late."

This is gonna be an adventure - the fun kind, for once, and Nick can't seem to stop grinning at Duke. She did say she'd want to be surprised on a date, and so far, even though it's just begun, this date has been packed with pleasant surprises.

"OK," she says, with a nod, "prob'ly better safe than sorry, yeah? Wanna walk a girl home to pick up a raincoat so I don't get covered in mystery sludge? It's not far, won't take long."

It's easy to surprise Nick because Duke too has no idea what's coming. Both the reggae band and Pestilential Hearse were a mystery to him, and he's glad Nick chose the metal band because it sounded so bizarre. This night's going to be memorable, however it ends up.

"No problem. We're not in a hurry and I'm not trying to get you slimed."

Add one more surprise to the running list from tonight. Nick gestures for Duke to follow her out of the bar's front door. She turns to the right, to a plain, small door, set between the bar and the neighboring barber shop. Nick stops and flashes Duke a teasing grin, then presses her palm to the lock plate and pulls the door open.

"Wanna come up? I'll only be a minute, but I'd never forgive myself if you got mugged down here on the street while waitin' for me."

Yep, definitely a surprise. Duke follows, expecting a short walk and planning on slipping his arm around her shoulders but there's not time for that. He laughs. "You didn't mention you worked from home. Sure."

He glances around the street, which doesn't seem too shady, but looks aren't everything. "Do a lot of people get mugged around here?" He's more curious than worried, because being invited in this early is never a bad sign.

"It has its benefits. Really short commute time, for one." She grins cheekily. "On the other hand, I'm basically always on call, so I guess it evens out." She shrugs and starts heading up the stairs.

"Nah, I was just kidding about the muggings. This ain't a bad neighborhood, and there's so many cameras around the city, I don't think anyone'd try it."

Once they've climbed to the top of the stairs, Nick presses her palm to another lock plate to gain entrance to the apartment itself. It’s a smallish space, cozy rather than cramped, and there is no technology in the city’s standard for current in sight - no computer, not even a television. Nick taps a lamp on the bookshelf near the door to fill the apartment’s interior with soft illumination and holds the door open for Duke to follow her inside.

The furniture inside is comfortably worn but in good shape: another bookshelf full of haphazardly stacked paperbacks and records, an old boxy stereo and record player perched on the topmost shelf, an overstuffed chair to the side of a couch, her guitar in its stand.

"I'll just be a sec," she says, already shrugging out of her jacket, which is then tossed over the back of the chair at the table set in the space between living room and kitchen. She disappears down the hallway to retrieve a raincoat from the closet that stores her coats.

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cw casual allusion to suicide

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