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Noon on a Saturday. Grim, darling. Beni is never hungover, it's impossible. The mood in the Cat, though. Dire. She slumps irritably in her booth, pouting.
"I'm bored," she tells her chauffeur.
The little gargoyle looks perturbed, long ears turned back in dismay. This can never be a good sign. A bored faerie is a dangerous faerie.
"This town needs something." Beni gestures vaguely. "Fetch me a paper," she orders. "I'll figure it out."
The chauffeur exchanges looks with the two part-troll guards who keep Beni company here at the cat. She'll figure it out. Bank robbery? Kidnapping? Who knows. But it'll be exciting if Beni has anything to do with it.
"Does anyone owe me money?" she asks the nearly-empty bar. Ugh. Someone entertain her. At least give her some kneecaps to break.
*
It is not unusual for Oliver to be scarce this early on a Saturday. It implies he had a very enjoyable Friday night, and let's face it: Oliver always has very enjoyable Friday nights.
When he finally slips into the Black Cat today, he's on his own, but that smile on his face is a dead giveaway. He's a cat who caught a canary, and the canary will not be far behind.
"You look like you could use a pick-me-up," Oliver notes in a warm voice as he heads for Beni's booth, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. "Can I get you anything? A drink? Company?"
*
The canary definitely isn't far behind— Aurora didn't even stop off to change out of her evening's activity clothes, she simply took a separate route back from Oliver. As a result, she not really dressed to her usual degree, though the remnants of her museum-theiving outfit is appropriately stylish, and leaves her looking more like an artiste presenting in a gallery than anything else. It's a bit purposeful, mind, since the black turtleneck, slacks, and boots have had the accompanying gloves and ski mask tossed out in favor of a trim black beret.
More importantly, she holds a sizable tote bag from the gift shop at the Met, neatly stuffed with tissue paper, as her heels click along the floor.
*
"All of it." Beni waves a limp hand, which flutters to her breast like a dying bird. "I need anything, darling. Preserve me." Everything is so dire. Yule is coming, that should improve things.
Then, she spots Aurora and lights up. "Oh, Ollie, you genius!" She leaps to her feet in a swirl of lace and heads for Aurora, hands extended as though she's reaching for a life-preserver. "How did I not know you were in New York, darling!"
*
Oliver does not bother hiding a supremely smug smile when Beni lights up the way she does, just lifts his chin and beams as the faerie goes breezing past him to greet Aurora.
He, meanwhile, heads for the bar to fetch some glasses and champagne. He knows what comes next, and by the time the two get back to Beni's booth, Oliver should have their drinks poured and ready for them.
*
Jeanne-Marie is quick to lean in, smiling, and give Beni the ubiquitious light peck to each cheek in greeting. "I've not been long. You were sadly out when I arrived amidst a sinply dreary downpour," she notes mock-sternly, then smiles again. "But it's quite alright, as I hadn't a gift for the unexpected visit until dear Oliver suggested just the most fabulous solution." There are few people for whom Aurora is gracious and genuinely happy. A large fraction of them are in this room.
Aurora offers Beni the gift bag, gestures a touch flippantly. "Come, lets sit, drink, and you can see what we've gotten you. It's just the thing."
*
"Champagne, are we having champagne, or something stronger?" Beni slides her arm through Aurora's. "Oh, hell, bring it all. And someone send out for something to eat other than this American food. Something French, please. Tell me life has been interesting, tell me Paris is less boring than New York City. Aside from the chaos and destruction — which I am in favour of, in moderation, make no mistake — I have found minimal excitement here. Even Broadway seems exhausted by all this Hellmouth business and whatever new threat — aliens, darling, aliens — has arrived from Planet Nine."
*
The champagne is set out and Oliver is already taking a few quick steps back over to the bar to murmur some instructions to one of the suit-clad gargoyles, and slipping some money into the man's hand to cover food. His treat today, not Beni's — otherwise, it would be unnecessary.
Once he's on his way to acquire lunch, Oliver finally returns to the booth and waits for the others to sit before he claims a spot for himself.
*
"Oh, you know me, darling— a vodka martini so dry you could sop spills with it," Jeanne says promptly, allowing herself to be escorted to a seat. The bag ends up on the table. "It's all dreadful ennui these days, my dear. I'm so bored I'm actually working. Simply couldn't bear to run idle until spring, so we're rolling a winter line this year. On the bright side, I can at *least* step around New York in furs. It nearly makes up for the flight."
*
"Furs. Hunting." Beni sits next to Oliver in a swirl of lace and a flounce of curls. "Oh, Rora, we should go hunting." What she plans to hunt is unclear.
A waiter brings Aurora her martini, another brings a plate of fruits and cheeses, because that usually appeases the faerie for a little while. If they actually had more experience, they'd try honey.
*
"I've never been," Aurora admits, with a slight frown. Somehoe it's just never occured to her to try her hand at it. "At least, not hunting in the traditional sense," she clarifies. Does stealing count as hunting? because she did that kind last night. Whatever. Martini is now.
She refrains from getting pushy about Beni opening her gift, because it's polite, but she also is just dying to see the reaction to the astrolabe. Instead she makes an inquisitive noise. "It could be thrilling, though. Is there anything worth chasing in the area? I'm somewhat anchored for a couple of weeks while the show is a thing." Dreadful, that. She'd resent it if she hadn't sort of demanded it herself.
*
"You hunt men, don't you?" Beni gives Aurora a sly look. "It's practically the same thing only you're allowed to shoot them. And eat them. Pity it's not that way all around." She winks at Ollie, then takes up her present.
"Ooh, I love it when people give me things." She rustles the wrappings before removing them slowly. Halfway through, she gasps. "Is this what I think it is? Rora! You scandalous thing. Are you sure you're not part-faerie yourself?"
*
Oliver just meets Beni's wink with an amused, patient look of his own. "It isn't as though I haven't offered," is all he says, batting his lashes and leaning back in his seat to watch her open her present. He offers Aurora a quick smile and a brief waggle of his eyebrows. See? He told her so.
*
"I'm not allowed to eat men?" Aurora quips without missing a beat. "Why hasn't anyone told me?" She shrugs a shoulder. It's hardly restricted to just men, but the table knows this. Aurora chases whatever Aurora likes that afternoon. Or hour. Maybe even per-minute, who knows.
"Well, as far as I know… no. But it would explain the ears," she muses with a wry grin, running a finger along the pointed lobe and brushing her hair over it on the right side while she's at it. "Though I wouldn't deny Oliver his part in suggesting it. He always knows what to get the lady who has everything."
*
"Oh, I've missed this darling thing." Beni's genuinely happy to have it back in her hands. Of all things, she sniffs it. "I love the smell of gold, don't you?" It's a subtle scent, blended in this case with age and oil and dust.
"You know, human isn't very tasty. But eating, figuratively…" She looks up from the astrolabe and winks at Ollie. "That's tasty."
*
"To tell the truth, I tend to prefer the smell of things you buy *with* gold," Aurora admits. "It has appeal, though." She gestures at the astrolabe. "Though to me, it smells delightfully of weighty history, like an old library. I'm glad to see you so happy. It's really quite exquisite. I should really have the story from you someday." because she's sure there's a story involved.
As for the taste of human flesh? Aurora doesn't bat an eyelash. She's grown used to Beni's faerie comments, over time. The observation earns a disdainful sniff. "I don't doubt it, the absolute trash most humans eat."
*
"Sailors, darling. Fishy." Beni sets the astrolabe on the table in front of her so she can admire it. "I have missed you, Aurora, and not just because it's lovely to look at you." She winks at Aurora. "I must see the new line. Do you think that they'd cut me one if I brought them my own pelts?"
*
"It never hurts to ask," Oliver notes with a cheerful smile. He seems entirely content to just laze about in the booth, watching the pair catch up while he sips at his own glass of champagne. Sue him, it's a nice way to spend a Saturday.
*
Jeanne-Marie positively lounges into her side of the booth as she relaxes, letting company she actually enjoys wash over her. "Darling, they'll be happy to or they'll be looking for a new job." She swirls her drink and then sips it again. "But honestly I'm quite sure one of our designers would love to play dressmaker for a few days. I'm not interested in designers that don't care to sew."
And then one of her patented challenging, half-leering smiles. "You know all you need do is ask and you can look your fill anytime, Beni."
*
"You know, I might take you up on that." Beni reaches over to trace the line of Aurora's pointed ear with one finger. "I always did love a good ear," she purrs. "And the rest of you."
There's a bustle at the door as the delivery from the restaurant comes in and staff rush to get lunch set out for Beni's table. "You've always been the perfect cure for boredom, Rora. I do hope you'll stay in New York."
*
Jeanne-Marie gives a genuine smile "You always know what to say to a girl, dear. I hadn't firmed any plans past the line reveal, but that of course means nothing." Except that she hasn't plans. Her finger traces the rim of her glass, somewhat coquettishly.
"I'm sure you and Oliver can find *some* means to induce me to stay a while."