|
Lindon said he'd meet Michael at Lux, and there he is at the bar, nursing along one of their specialty drinks. He's tried quite a few of them, though there are a few favorites he tends to stick to. He's dressed in one of his tailored suits tonight, no tweed to be seen, and his hair is combed back nice and slick instead of sweeping across his brow. He cleans up well.
Wonder of wonders, Mike has a decent suit. Even a hat. Apparently angels are relatively conservative when they clean up. At least, Mike is. None of the exotic glamour that Lucifer occasionally goes in for. Not tailored, but fitting well enough. He comes sauntering along - a hint of Lu's arrogance in it - and settles lightly at the stool by Lindon, smiling over at him. Utterly confident of his welcome.
JP absolutely did not look like he blonged at Lux or anyplace with cloth napkins. Let us get that feature out of the way. Maybe there was a casting call for one swarthy, good-looking collision of risk and bad sense? That he could viably pass for. Yup, this is that same git that knew more about Michael than either of them wished. While he was looking for someone looking a hair on edge he froze eyeing Lindon and moreso, that angel carefully.
Michael has every reason to be confident of that welcome, because it comes with a warm smile. "Hello," Lindon says. "You look great. Wow." Too public for him to touch Michael, but there's still an intimacy about the way he regards the angel. His gaze darts over JP since the man stands out, and he smiles fleetingly, shy but not unfriendly. "How are you this evening?" he asks Michael.
"Thank you, and I'm all right," Michael says, before looking at JP for a moment. Considering what to do. "That's JP," he says, apparently deciding on an explanation. "He….has found something very interesting. A book that has my real name in it." Lindon will know, if anyone will, what precisely that entails. "So, I'll be going out of town for a day or two, in a little, to go track that book down." Get it out of the way.
JP had that look everyone has in teh principal's office. Even if one isn't in trouble you start thinking about all the things you've done recently one might be in trouble for and start to regret them one by one. An eyebrow hiked. Oh he knew when he was being referenced and he was still doing the dance of 'do I say hi so he knows I know he's here' or 'do I leave him alone' or better yet 'do I take off and do all I can to avoid the guy that can literally manifest in my bathroom'? These were not the tough decisions he signed up for today.
Lindon glances at JP again when Michael explains, and his eyes widen a touch. He found that book? That book isn't a good book to have just laying around! "Oh, gosh. I can imagine you'd want to, yes." He glances to JP again, unsubtle. "Is he all right? Sometimes just having that kind of knowledge in your head can cause damage." If anyone would know, it's him.
Which question has Mike turning that pale stare on him. "Are you all right?" he asks,bluntly. A little chagrined. "I had not thought to ask," A look at Lindon, sheepish. He beckons JP, after another apologetic glance at Lindon. Yes, it's a sort of date and three's company…
JP waded over reluctantly and greeted Michael quietly with, "Look, mon ami." THe drawl rolled like honey on a hot day there. "I came t'drop somethin off f'yu frere he askin me for." He looked around again arching an eyebrow now interested, "Or tha' bartender. I think she's sweet on me." Maybe to eat alive, JP. Yeesh. He looked to Lindon with a polite nod and added, "I didn' come lookin for no trouble with you."
Lindon offers Michael a warm smile and inclines his head as if to show acquiescence. It's all right, things happen, and Lindon turns to look at JP with curiosity. "I'm sure it's quite all right," he tells him. He takes another sip of his drink. Small sip. He actually buys them for the flavor.
"Lu asked you for something?" Mike looks utterly blank. "Can you say what? Or is it between you and him?" He casts a wry look at the bartender in question. "The Lady Mazikeen is not ever sweet on mere mortal men," he adds, drily. "But no, there is no trouble. I will contact you soon."
JP stood up straighter, "Well, good thing I ain' married then." No that's not what mere- oh never mind. He handed Michael an envelope and looked between teh two of them like the angel grew a second head. "This some sorta test? You' kiddin, oui? Hmm?" N he'ss not about to talk business with angels out loud. Guy was spooked enough by enough he wasn't playing with literal fire on that one. "I heard how this works. Not gettin tricked by that one. You welcome." Hey at least the dirty thief can keep his yap shut. "You wan' give it to him so I can bounce, all's the better." Lindon might know that look exactly; someone knew way too much. Way too much.
Lindon's dark eyes settle upon JP, soft and without judgment, but there is knowing in them. A deep and almost sympathetic knowing. He keeps out of hte discussion of things that may or may not be for Lucian, though he pays attention. If anything, he radiates a sense of patience that could engulf the stars.
Mike's face is full of chagrin, but there's no arguing further. He takes the envelope and does not open it, for the moment, but tucks it into the pocket of his suitjacket. "Thank you," he says, softly. "And yes, I will give it to him." There's always a risk in being complicit in Lucian's schemes, but for now, he can plead ignorance. "I will not keep you," he adds, hastily. "Go well."
JP bit his lip. His fingers on both hands snap pointed at them, and the greaser took a rocking step back, then another used to keeping eyes on people he's dealing with perhaps? Turning one's back was a trust issue and that caution level while calm, was way in the red right now. "Bonsoir." And with that left them to their drinks as he head back out in the cold relieved of his burdeon which was no more than a time and an address in truth were anyone to look.
Lindon watches JP leave, then looks back to Michael. "Sounds like you've got a lot going on," he says, conversationally. "There's a mortal who probably doesn't want to be caught in the affairs of angels. Then again, the wise ones rarely do." His eyes lid as he adds, "I wouldn't accuse myself of being wise."
Michael makes an abortive little movement of a hand, as if he'd take Lindon's own. But he remembers, in time enough to not do so. "I…it was rather a shock to have someone call me by my real name," he says, and his voice, while still light, has that bemused edge to it. Which should be warning enough in and of itself - so few things dismay the firstborn. But he smiles at Lindon. "Perhaps not in that sense. But you are wise all the same."
Lindon lowers his gaze as his hand is almost taken, and he smiles a little to know the sentiment is there. "I would never presume," he says, "to speak your name. Besides, Michael suffices." He considers Michael, then admits, "I'm becoming wise. After what happened the other day, I've been getting wise quick. No more messing around with fate."
"Michael is more than enough," he agrees, with a sidelong little smile. He needn't speak aloud the point of memory - that name whispered or cried aloud in pleasure. "And I am glad to hear it. I'd hate to think of harm coming to you."
"I'm not a fan either," Lindon says. "But I'm going to be working from home most of the time so I'll be behind warded walls. When I do go to work, I'll have someone with me and there to pick me up. It feels a little bit like being chaperoned, but that's a small price to pay, I think." That sidelong little smile causes Lindon to smile in turn, lips curving against his glass as he takes a drink.
There's evident relief in his eyes. "Good," he says. "I disliked the idea of leaving you at all, but….you know how dangerousit is that that book should be abroad on this planet. I dare not leave it be a moment longer than possible."
"Oh no, go get the book," he says, "that's far more important, and besides I've got more than a few sets of eyes on me." He smiles. "I understand, Michael. Fortunately, I don't think the people looking for the Archive know it's a person. They merely think I have it."
"Thanks be," he murmurs. He won't invoke Dad's name, not with Lucifer's squad here. It'd be rude, even if Big Brother is off doing who knows what. Then he's raising a hand for Maz's attention, the better to order himself something. Something with absinthe - this week, bitterness as a taste is what he's interested in.
"It'll be all right," Lindon says with middling confidence. Maybe a little less than middling, but by golly he's trying to believe it. "This book, do you know how it might have gotten here? I'm always curious about first editions." He offers Michael a little smile. Kidding!
He gives the mortal a little, thin-lipped smile. He's got something intricate brewing. "No idea. That's part of what frightens me, really," ….frightened. Then, after a beat, he adds, "….after this, shall we go to your place?" Oh ho.
Lindon grins as he says, "We can go to my place whenever you like, my dear." Oh ho indeed! He finishes his drink, then sets down the glass. Not that he's rushing, no no. This is date night, right? They're supposed to go out. Technically, they have. "If it's got you frightened, definitely don't worry about me, go deal with it."
Something relaxes in him, at that. "After tonight," he says, and his voice has gone husky. There's that heat in his face again - he's gotten better at concealing his feelings, but Lindon knows him now. Knows him well enough to see that subtle leaning in the linesof him.
Lindon sets down his glass, and he says, "Get your hat, my dear." He slides off the barstool and gives Michael a coy glance. "There's a car that'll come take us home." Since lately Lamont hasn't left leaving him alone to chance.