She comes into Davy's humming to herself, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as the street noise of London fades with the thump of the heavy door. She's dressed simply today; a day when she's not going to be on display or have to deal with customers; it's what happens when a water main breaks, cutting off pressure and flooding half the street. The power's still on, but none of the refrigeration'll pump water, the bar can't pump water; it's strictly wait-until-it's-over time.
     There's a little bit of trade; beer on tap works fine, and as long as nobody needs their drinks over ice, they can still be served. But for the moment, there's a bit of a dearth of custom; no food, after all, since the dishwasher can't be run, and, well, it's almost not worth bothering, really. But a good day to get paperwork, restocking, inventory finished, a good time to roll out the new inventory system.
     She's in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt snagged for herself from the back. Even the smaller sizes are a bit loose on her; it flops a bit in the sleeves and at the waist where it's tucked in. Audi doesn't seem to mind, though, bundling her hair up under a kerchief as she peers around to see who's here and who isn't. "Hullooooo...?"

     It'd take more than a broken water main to keep the pub closed. There's been a public house at this intersection for hundreds of years, Black Jack Davy's being only the last in a long, long line. Loss of water pressure is only an inconvenience. What keeps the numbers down is not the lack of water but the redirection of traffic. Still, it should clear up by tomorrow. At least the pipe had the good sense not to break on a Friday night.
     Llew was awoken by a phone call at ten in the morning, only a scant four hours after he gave up the ghost and hit the pillow of his bed, to inform him about the water main and come up with a game plan. That plan is already in effect. The menu has been reviewed by the sous chef and the line, with simplicity being the rule of thumb. The beer's safe as can be, no danger to the Guinness or Harp, and the stores of other liquors not requiring water pressure to store, protect or serve, have already been mobilized. Instructions to the staff are already posted on their lockers -- what things to avoid, including making a bigger deal out of the inconvenience than it is. The note begins: It's just another night, ladies...
     Amazing what a man can do when he's burning fumes...
     He's on the phone in the office when he hears the 'Hullo', "Afael acha chofnod," Llew mutters. He leans over and waves. "I'm almost done," he announces to you from the office where you normally sit. He turns back to the phone. "Do, fel dydy bit 'n anghyfleus , dalmau Mai bod bit i lawr namyn ddylai mo bod 'r darfod chan 'r byd. Dydy Dydd Mawrth , baem i lawr. Yeah, yeah. The Rose'll do well tonight. Nancy's playing. And she'll be here next week. So, just a minor inconvenience. Yeah, yeah you bet. Nos dda, brawd."
     He sets the phone down and rises, coming into the main back area. He's in jeans and a white shirt tonight, the shirt one of the winking Jacks, and over that is another shirt. He looks like he's been up all night. Which isn't far off.
     "Fun night ahead, Audi. Water's cut off until at least ten o'clock tonight from the last update I got. But it was likely to be a slow night anyway. So, I've some coffee on. If I ramble," his motions with his hands, "... it's only the sleepwalking..."

     There is an immediate temptation on her part to go over and rub your back; so strong that she almost does it. Instead, she smiles at you sympathetically. "You need sleep," Audi remarks to you. "Look, it's going to be slow tonight anyway, isn't it? Why don't you nap, and I'll tell anyone who needs anything stronger than a pint to come back when you're awake?"
     She doesn't really expect you'll take her up on it, but she comes the rest of the way into the office, finishing tying the kerchief over her hair as she leans over the desk to read what memos might've been left there. "I might be able to stretch my hours to ten if you need, but it'd be a real stretch - I'd really have to dash on the dot of to get home in time."
     In time for what? She doesn't specify. Audi settles on the corner of the desk, hopping up and letting her legs dangle as she picks up a ledger book in one hand and a stack of memos in the other. "The girls will be in poor moods," she comments. "Low trade means low tips."

     "The girls will adjust," he notes. "They'll make the most of what they get." He stood up, but he's not going far. He sits in one of the guest chairs in the office, relinquishing the "captain's chair" to you. You actually have to get something done today. Settling in the guest chair, Llew slumps down, his legs stretching out. "Hmm...nah it's alight. Though, if I fall asleep here, don't take offense, yeah? It's nothing to do with you."
     His eyes are bright for all his tiredness, and he seems quite focused, only his speech has slowed somewhat -- though he's never been accused of the staccato speech of his father. "If I go to bed now, I'm just going to stay there," a lazy smile stretches its way across his lips, warming his face.
     "Nah, no need for you to work longer, Audi. I appreciate your volunteering, though. I am planning to close up on Monday for the yearly audit and inventory, and to have the end of year meeting. Oh, and the holiday party'll be coming up. We close the bar, and we drink our own liquor for a change." He smiles again. "It's a good time."
     Rolling his head near his shoulder, he looks at you a moment. "You know... if you'd rent my brother's girl's flat, you wouldn't have to worry so much. It's much closer, you know. Barely even ten minutes away. And the rent's not bad - she was living there when she was working for little-distributed punk rock 'zines." He grins. "And the roof doesn't leak."

     Have you ever seen a girl turn pink so fast in all your life? Audi blushes, looking away from you as you continue speaking, moving hurriedly to take her own chair back for herself. "No offense taken," she insists lightly, bending over the ledger and picking up a pen. She is very meticulous. The messages are logged into the book by date and time, subject marked in bold letters with the name of the person who called in parentheses under that, as well as a summary with brief mention of whether whatever issue is at stake is resolved. How someone who draws talking rabbits and fantastic creatures living in littered coffee cups from kiosks is so organized is unbelievable.
     "You should let yourself drift off, though," Audi continues resolutely, gaze locked onto her log book. "I mean, how're you going to manage if you don't? If the place were packed it'd be different; you'd be too busy to fall asleep."
     She brightens at the notion of holiday parties. "Ooh! Is it going to be a costume party? I love costume parties. But oh, I couldn't move - I mean, it'd mean having to move all my stuff, and - and anyway, I just couldn't. You never know what might happen, and I'm sure my current flat'd be gone if I left it."

     Llew laughs, the sound rough in his own recent waking. "Oh good lord, girl. Will you stop worrying? You're not going to lose this gig. You're doing a great job. It's a perfectly good flat. And if you need someone to help you me... well... Dewi and I can help. You've all the muscle you need at your disposal." He gestures broadly with his arms, indicating the entire bar and all the men it contains.
     "You're doing a fantastic job, really," he continues quietly and seriously. "I'm glad Davydd sent you. You've been a huge help, and I mean that. No laughing matter about that. So, I want you to feel like you're okay, you know? Okay to move ahead and make plans or move to a better, closer place even. You know, if you look at it and like it. I'm not trying to push it on you. Okay, well," he smiles cantwise, "... maybe a little, but that's only because you've a leaky roof and god knows what else over there, and this one's perfectly good, close and above one of the best Indian restaurants in town."
     Llew sits up and forward. "It's not usually a costume party, but if you want to dress up as an elf or something, feel free. We do decorate the pub. In fact," he makes a note to himself, "... we need to take stock of the Christmas decorations and buy some new decor. We usually put things up around the first of December. We have a few weeks yet, but... if you want a fun project, feel free..."

     "Well, um. Thank you. I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job." She's approaching a shade more commonly seen in beets, and she's still not looking at you. "But I didn't mean necessarily you'd fire me, though that could happen too; I mean, things do happen, don't they? People fall in love and change careers. They die. They have their businesses go under, or the city seizes their property for some reason, or the business is shut down by order of the Health Commission. Or because someone was running drugs through the back. And of course there's all the times I've been held up at knife or gun point - I don't do convenience stores anymore, you know..."
     She is babbling, and she is aware of it; abruptly, she shoves her chair back, skipping over to the shelves. Inventory! Inventory will save her! "Anyway, I'm sure it's a lovely apartment, but - but I mean, it seems silly. I'd have to spend so much money to get into it. And the current flat's furnished, so I wouldn't have anything to sleep on, I'd have to buy furniture, and it's expensive! But thank you very much for thinking of me."
     Audi nods once, seriously, then again. Yes. It's settled. At least in her own head it is, amid the tumult of confusion. Why does she keep blushing! "I could dress as an elf. Or something. I'll think about it. And I'd be happy to help with holiday decorations, if you want! What other kind of project, or just that? Though um. I should warn you." Now she peeks over at you, one eye green, one eye blue. "I - kind of tend to get ... carried away, when it comes to art projects..."

     "You can't go around dodging life because you're afraid something might happen. You know, shoes drop, and other shoes drop, but life goes on, right?" He nods once. "Well, the flat's furnished. Everything's still there apart from the clothing." He sees your blushing, and his gaze lowers to give you a moment of space.
     Still, his smile tugs at it. He likes it.
     "Anyway... things to think about." He'll stop pressing. For now. "And... feel free to get carried away. Christmas is a good time for it, yeah? You want it, you got it. You're in charge of the decorations. Dewi's working on the menu. That means I can just handle the punters. How're the shirt designs coming? I'd love to get those out by New Years. New Year, new shirt. In fact, it'd be good to give the staff their new shirts at the Christmas Party and then have the rest of the stock printed for New Years for the customers. What do you think?"
     It's not a rhetorical question; he actually wants to hear your opinion. Llew settles back in the chair, his head resting on his hand. One leg (his right) bounces up and down, his sneaker squeaking softly in the motion.
     "That and the shirts and the rest of the day-to-day office bits. Let me know if you need something else. You can more 'n handle it," he rolls out. "I have complete faith in you." His smile wanders like a lone wolf across his mouth.
     Maybe it is the lack of sleep on his part, but is he taking interest in you?

     "I'll ... I'll think about it." Evasive answer, but what can you expect from a nervous rabbit like this? Audi runs a hand over the storage racks, looking at them as if she were not being inattentive. For whatever reason, you have her a little rattled, and it shows. "I'm not making any promises. But I'll think about it."
     That's not all she'll think about...
     "T-shirt designs - yes. I've got a few ideas, really, but I don't know if any are what you have in mind." She turns - clearly relieved for something with no ulterior meanings, nothing complex. Just art, right? "I did a sort of puss in boots thing - My master, the Marquis of Carabas," Audi bows, doffing an imaginary plumed hat. "Only as a pirate-cat instead. With lady cat wenches in tavern maid gear for the other shirt - winks all round, of course. I'm still working on human art, something a little more tavern-y. I didn't know if you'd like the idea."
     She can get into the talk of art. It helps her to distract herself from how you look, sleepy or otherwise. Distract herself from her own imagination, the urges it inspires in her. The things she wants to do, such as plopping herself down in your lap, sleepy as you are. She is trying very hard not to think about that.
     Or what you might do if she did...

     "I like the sound of that," Llew remarks quietly. "Do you have your sketches here? If not, bring them tomorrow and let me have a look at them." Everything becomes so suddenly clear, and sleepiness flees for sudden, focused wakefulness. Llew sits up, smiling at the edge of your bow. "Puss 'n Boots. You know, the girls'll really like that."
     The air holds a bit of a charge to it, now, and he acknowledges it quietly. "What else were you thinking?" Llew wonders just as quietly. He watches you as you move from place to place, as your little motions jerk now and then when you don't want him to look at you. When you might be thinking what it might be like if he were doing something a bit more than looking. The stray ideas are loping around his own brain.
     You are quirky and earthy and ethereal all at once. You are a girl and a figment - a mystery of a girl, and a tangle of things unrevealed. Llew stirs himself. "Would you like some coffee? I think I should have a cuppa..." His voice trails off quietly, and his smile is lazy, loitering upon his lips.
     Slowly, Llew pulls himself up to head out into the backroom. "The tavern angle is good. We are what we are, right? I'd like to get back to that, actually. I think there for a while... a few years ago... we got a bit too ... modern, a bit too touristy," he notes. "I'd like a little nod to tradition, but in a quirky, new kind of way."

     "I didn't bring them. So much water, I thought..." Audi lets it trail off as she returns to the desk, not looking at you as she returns to work. Or tries to. She will be trying to read the same memo ten times before it sticks. "I can bring them in, sure. I'll see if I can't pick up some plastic protectors on the way home today."
     She tugs at her hair absently, still not looking at you. "Oh, thinking? Um. About what?" For one brief moment, a startled mismatched gaze is yanked upwards to your face before it falls again, her cheeks flushed. "Oh, the other sketches. Sorry, I got distracted by this." She pats the note defensively. Distracted. But not by messages from hopeful suppliers.
     "I was thinking almost a takeoff on those old Coppertone adverts, but not quite. Pirates and bandits used to carry girls off, didn't they? So a cavalier-sort carrying a girl over his shoulder, with her knickers just showing where her skirts fall away. And I figured for the other side of the coin, I could get some of the waitresses to model for me, them carrying off some surprised-looking jock-type. Put them in pirate-y garb for it, of course, with swords and eye-patches and stuff. 'Black Jack Davy's - Get Carried Away'."
     She stands up, quickly walking back to the supply shelves. Don't get carried away yourself, Cinderella. Midnight comes every night. "Look, why don't you go on out front? I'll make a fresh pot of coffee, and you can send one of the girls for it when it's ready!"
     Poor rabbit, ready to bolt into the first hole that presents itself. What do you expect, with wolves about?

Posted by rowan at October 27, 2007 11:02 PM