After the plane rides, layovers, time changes, visa checks, and cab rides, it has been twenty-two hours since Balthazar Davies left London, chasing the fumes of Loki's earlier flight.
     First class made up for it, of course...
     It is nine-thirty by the time he arrives at the Kahala Resort from the Honolulu Airport, a leather travel bag on one shoulder and an instrument travel case for a guitar on his other.
     This is the furthest I have ever traveled on earth. And it feels like it. Tall, he smiles to the concierge and check-in staff, letting the guitar case slip off his shoulder (finally) to rest against the mahogany desk. "Yes... Balthazar Davies... I have a beach front suite reserved. Yes," and he offers the girl his British passport. Smiling, she looks at him and looks at the passport.
     "Yes, Lord Davies... we have you in dolphin lagoon wing. First floor as you requested. Suite 104..."
     She returns the passport as he signs in and a porter is there to take his bags. "There is twenty-four hour room service, sir. As well as valet and same day laundry service. Just let us know how we may assist you." She smiles with genuine warmth. "I hope you have a very pleasant stay. My name is Allani, if there is anything you wish to know about Oahu, do not hesitate to ask."
     Smiling, and handing over his belongings easily (and gratefully), Balthazar pockets his passport and takes the room key as she slides it toward him. "Thank you, Allani. I am certain it will be. I'm sure there is a bar -- in fact," he smiles, "I believe you have five..."
     "Oh yes," Allani notes. "There is the Veranda in the Dolphin Lagoon wing. It will be open until two a.m."
     "Thank you again, Allani."
     "My pleasure, sir."
     Balthazar Davies, dressed in well-traveled cotton khaki trousers and a white shirt, turns to look to where the porter is going. To the promise of a large, comfortable bed and a good drink (or three) ...not in that order, necessarily.

     Pres is resplendent as he strolls arm in arm with his younger sister along the marble walk. They look as if they could be throwbacks to an era long gone, a more colonial sort of era; he's dressed in combed white flannel panama suit with an elegant mahogany and gold cane. His tie is that of his prep school, and the only way he could look nattier would be if he wore spats. "Is that him?" he asks Maddie a bit wearily. "If it's not, I need a drink, Kitty."

     "Stop calling me that!" Maddie scolds, though she doesn't truly look cross. She is dressed like a Spanish dancer, in a seafoam green gown that clings to her upper body before opening into full skirts. She has a black crocheted lace shawl over her shoulders and black Cuban heels on her feet, bringing her almost level with her brother's shoulders; a small black mantilla is pinned to her hair, which is up and pinned into place with tortoise-shell combs. "You know I gave up that nickname years ago."

     Pres just sighs and pats Maddie gently on the shoulder with an irritating big brotherliness. "Yeah, Kitty, I know. So is that him or not? Loki's getting us drinks, or I'd ask him. Or, you know what? Forget it, I'll ask him myself."
     It's a big brother maneuver, no doubt about it. With great deliberation, Pres steps towards Balthazar, leaning on his cane, even as Maddie lets out a sharp gasp and goes pink. "Hey, you." He gestures with the cane with a deftness worthy of a crotchety sixty-year-old man. "Are you the guy my sister's been talking about teaching to surf since lunch? If so, don't do it. Run while you still can. Run, before she-"

     "PRES." Maddie scrambles up behind him with a rapid but admittedly graceful clicking of her heels. She jabs him in the kidneys while whispering something urgently to him, then with syrupy sweetness she tells him, "Oh, dear, Pres, isn't it almost time for your pills again? My, my, maybe we should take advantage of the hotel's nursing staff." She sticks her tongue out at him, then says a bit more shyly from just behind Pres' wincing elbow, "Hi, Baz. Did you have a good flight? Loki should be here any minute."

     As if on cue, Loki appears with three drinks set about on a tray. The Irish coffee among said drinks is helping maintain his current mood, which if not exactly chipper, is at least well into comfortably amiable towards all things and people in eyeshot. He's dressed down to khakis and a deep brown button-up shirt with his phone stored neatly in the front pocket.
     I'd recognize the sound of West sibling bickering from a mile away, if I didn't already know they were here. He presents the tray to Maddie and Pres together, sliding off his own Irish coffee in turn. "Hey, Balthazar. I'd have picked up a fourth drink if I knew you'd already fought through the baggage claim. Want anything, as long as I'm playing waiter?"

     He is as resplendent as one can be after traveling twenty-some-odd hours, which is to say that though there is sunlight in his eyes and in the corner of his smile, it is the muted sun of approaching dusk. But Balthazar brightens at the arrival of at least one person he knows. And then a second. "I am he." There is a double-take at Baz but he doesn't correct it. Why should he? It's actually a decent nickname. His moniker is difficult to shorten.
     "Baz," he repeats with a smile. "Or Balthazar. And if I had the energy to run, that would be sound advice. Pleasure to meet you, Pres. I've heard a lot about you. Hi, Maddie. Or is it Kitty?" There is a sleepy sort of grin. You look nice. He notices, of course, but then there is Loki, promising beverages to distract him...
     Pivoting toward the porter, Balthazar motions for him continue without him. "A drink would be terrific," he exhales gratitude to Loki. "As long as you're fetching. Would you see if they can do a Spanish coffee? I've been up for twenty-four hours. I may as well hold out for thirty-six." He smiles, giving each of them a part of it.
     The white of his shirt makes evident the caramel of his complexion -- how is it that an Englishman has a tan before he gets here? -- and though far more casual than the other in his company, the clothing is nevertheless quite fine. "I had a long flight. But it was good. The seats reclined so I got a bit of napping in. I am late to the party, it appears." You are all dressed for dinner. He is dressed for plane.

     Loki heads back to the bar, tray dangling from one hand, to pick up the requested drink. His own flavor of coffee is half gone before he's disappeared on the way.

     "She's definitely Kitty," Pres ignores Maddie's frantic efforts to get him to shush with the cheerful disregard of a big brother intent on tweaking his little sister. "You should call her it. Really. Ignore her protests, she loves it - ow!"

     Fingernails to the elbow have apparently worked, and Maddie says with all the dignity she can muster, "It was my nickname when I first went away to school. Madison Elaine West - M.E.W. So, Kitty. I pretty much go by Maddie, now." She kicks Pres' ankle for good measure, but very lightly as she takes her own drink from the tray. Hers is lavender in color, whatever is is, and the rim of her glass looks to have been drizzled with honey. An orchid rests on the rim. "I'm glad it was a good flight. Did you get all checked in? We figured we'd wander out and see if we could spot you."

     Pres takes his own drink, grimacing at Loki and mouthing Send help. His drink is, prosaically enough, just a rum and Coke. "Maddie and I got dressed up for dinner, she was going to see if she could con anyone into doing a paso doble with her, but turns out the ballroom dancing's tomorrow night. Just as well, Maddie's not really all that dysfunctional to be dancing anything that involves stabbing." He mimes patting her on the head, then ducks back with the help of his cane. He then offers a hand out. "Pres. Howdy."

     It takes longer for Loki to return with Balthazar's requested drink than the three previous, and when he does, he's found himself a second helping of Irish coffee to sit on the tray beside the Spanish. There's also a very slight scent of singed hair about him. "Someone should tell their bartender dramatic flourishes aren't actually required in drink mixing," he says, plucking his new drink off the tray.

     Balthazar takes the offered hand with a chuckle. "Pleasure. I think I should call her Maddie," he notes in an aside to Pres, but clearly to be heard by Maddie, a quick smile given in her direction. "The... paso doble?" he tries out the term, clearly not knowing what it is. He looks to Maddie, with eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
     The question hovers around his expression as he answers here: "It was. And...yes...I think I'm ready to go as far as that. The hop has taken the things over...so where are you all staying? I managed to get the last beach front suite. I'm in 104. I hear it has its own bar, which will be convenient..."
     There is the scent of cinnamon, brandy, coffee, cream and sugar that makes Balthazar turn. "Ah, good. Just what I was wanting." Gillian isn't the only person with exotic taste in drinks. "Thank you. The next round is on me." He takes the coffee in his hands, sipping at the concoction via the stirring straw. "So...now that we've found me, where shall we go?"

     "Paso doble," Maddie declares, rolling her shoulders in a shrug that shifts the shawl like settling sand. "It's a dance. Like tango, only better. I'll teach you it if you want. The best paso doble is from the heart." She grins at Balthazar, then leans over to pat Loki's arm. "Did you ever do ballroom dance, Loki? If you know paso doble, we could show Baz sometime." She relents a bit, telling Balthazar, "If you really want, you can call me Kitty. It's just, well, some people ended up calling me something else."

     Pres grins at his sister, shaking his head a bit. He gives Balthazar a measuring sort of a look. "Well, we can go lurk in the ballroom if Loki and Maddie're going to dance, or we can wander out onto the beach. It's pitch dark out, though. We can go up to the suite if you want. I uh, went out on a limb and took the presidential." He grins. "Why not, right? Only live once. Loki and I'll be the bachelor kings of the top floor."

     "Best place on the island to check email in style," Loki says, half a smile for Pres. It's amazing how fast a basic Irish coffee can disappear when set in front of him, and it looks to be working in all the right ways. To Maddie he says, "You know how my dad is about anything considered Cultured and Civilized. To my occasional shame, I know ballroom dance. If it hasn't been so long that I've forgotten the steps, I can help you demonstrate some night."

     While he is being measured -- and he feels it but does not shrink from it -- Balthazar turns his attention to Maddie For a moment, it is undivided. "Surfing and dancing. You are pretty brave to offer to teach me both, not knowing if I can even swim or have any sense of rhythm. Just because I'm a musician doesn't mean I can keep time." He grins, "...That's what Loki's for." He sips at the brandied and liquored coffee and smiles. "I have heard of tango of course, but... I was never made to learn. So... as Pres says... why not."
     Glancing to Loki and Pres, he grins. "You will be on the top of the world. I will be with the dolphins. I'm fine to go to the suite. I think the beach will be better for me tomorrow, you know, around noon when I'm conscious again. Shall we?" He motions for one of you to lead the way. You know where you're going, after all.

     "Oh, good. We can demonstrate for Baz, then," Maddie tells Loki blithely. "I'm going to hold you to it. At the very least, that way I know I'll have someone to dance with who isn't all hands. It wasn't much fun last year, with those grotty old guys trying to feel me up. Pedophiles." She wrinkles her nose, then nods, a hand coming up to adjust one of the tortoise-shell combs in her auburn hair. "Yes, let's go up. We can see the lights on the water a long way off from up there."
     She is a bit pink, but shrugs it off, turning to meet Balthazar's gaze with a steady, challenging one of her own. "Well, that's because I figure that you can keep up. If you're really interested in learning, it'll be fun, and if you aren't, you'll get bored before I run out of patience." She takes a sip of her drink. "I've got a room on the ground floor. No suites for me! But I've got access to the beaches from a lanai, so I'll be hitting the waves before breakfast. Pres has already said he's sleeping in, so you won't be alone in that."

     Pres looks amused and resigned as he turns to head for the elevators. He leans on his cane as discreetly as he's able, his strawberry-blonde hair and grey eyes more like Gillian than like Maddie. "We old folks need our sleep, sissy. Come on, top floor, ladies' umbrellas, housewares. Loki, be prepared to bounce anybody who hasn't got a ticket."

     "I'll try not to step on your feet too often," Loki promises Maddie, falling in with the rest of the group, and bringing his coffee with him. He looks more relaxed here than he ever does in London, but it's probably just all the alcohol in that coffee. "Just so long as you remember it's been years since I've had to use any of those steps, one dinner last year aside."
     In the elevator, Loki takes a corner, not far from Pres, a smile flickering that way. "I'd make a terrible bouncer. Bleeding heart liberal, remember? But I could escort anyone without a ticket back outside while gently inquiring after the childhood trauma that led them to such a wayward place in life."

     For those who have met him London and who, like Loki, have spent considerable time with him in London, there would be a subtle shift of how he seems. The business-like Balthazar is nowhere to be found. This Balthazar is on vacation -- a man of exotic tastes and exotic looks. He is so relaxed, so at ease within his skin and with those around him, that he lets down what little guard he held in the Foggy City.
     Cinnamon eyes and caramel skin, the cinnamon-laced drink he sips, the mouth that sips it, and the dark red-brown hair that has running through it, naturally, amber and bronze glints here and there. He is in this unguarded moment, beautiful. In London, he was tempered by the cold and by the overcast. But here? Not here...
     He leans against the back of the elevator, a little (and slightly liquored) smile upon his face. He is at home in a place as spectacular as this. He fits it, instantly. It conforms more to him, than he to it. It is as if he lives here or perhaps has always lived here.
     "I don't think it's possible to be bored in the presence of Wests. Don't you think that's the case, Loki?" He looks to his friend, his smile twisting a little. "I know I'm the newest to the party, but I'm a quick learner."

     "We'll try to tone it down for the newcomer nonetheless," Pres answers Balthazar with a slight grin to Loki. "I'm the dull one, I'm afraid. My sisters got all the glamour in this family." He waves his room card in front of a scanner, then hits the button for the top floor. There's a vweep and the elevator begins to rise. "I got you an extra card in case you need to come up, Maddie," he forestalls his little sister's question. "But call first, okay? If Loki and I decide to splurge on prostitutes and cocaine, I don't want you bursting in on us."

     "If you splurge on prostitutes and cocaine," Maddie retorts with a toss of her mantilla, "that's exactly when I'll be bursting in on you, for your own good. Or to take pictures. Holidays come and go, but blackmail is forever, big brother mine." She smiles at him, laughing up in his face as she settles a hip against the wall of the elevator. "Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be the good influence."

     "No, that's Gillian," Pres retorts carelessly. Both Wests covertly glance to Balthazar to see how he takes the mention of their absent sister. "She's the ultimate in good influences, remember? I'm the pitiable influence. Come on, sprite." He leans over to ruffle Maddie's shawl. "There's a bar in our room, if anybody wants more to drink, or we can get room service. Whatever people want. Video games and movies, too, though I'm liking the ambient music system better." The doors ding open, and he sticks his cane in the way first thing before he begins limping towards the door of the suite. "It adapts itself to your tastes, the more things you request of it. I figure we're here ten days, by the time we leave that thing won't know what hit it."

     "Terrorized, manipulated, or suddenly on a plane to another country," Loki tells Balthazar, in something approaching good cheer, "but never bored. Since we've already marked 'another country' off the list for the week, it may even be safe to spend time around them."
     He does not dignify the crack-and-whores comment with a response, beyond a quirk of amusement across his expression. "If the music system's too near a mental breakdown, we can always split the difference by telling it play video game music until we're the ones driven insane instead."

     It was inevitable. The 800lb Gorilla in the room had to be mentioned at some point. Balthazar smiles warmly and chuckles as he looks into his drink. It might not be the expected reaction of the man whose heart was stepped on by very expensive Gillian West boots, but it is the first reaction he makes. Maybe it's the brandy. "Now, this is where the dancing is supposed to begin, I think," he says in aside to Loki. To the others? "No tip-toeing please," he insists. "I don't expect her to be written out of the annals of history, which would be a fate worse than death for her, just because she dumped me."
     The mention of her name does nothing to dampen the gilded spirit that surrounds him. He is gleaming with relaxation (though perhaps it's jet-lag) and without a care in the world as he places a hand against the side of the opened elevator doors to let the others go on out ahead. He brings up the rear, finishing his Spanish coffee as he walks along.
     I'm not really troubled by her at all anymore. Hmm... maybe I should write a song for Tanira. "I'm sure we can come up with something better than video game music," Balthazar notes. "At the very least there has to be a piano bar around here somewhere that we could sack in a musical coup d'etat if things get that desperate."

     "There's a piano down the hall from the suite, actually, in a sort of ell of its own. I was wandering around before the rest of you got here," Pres remarks, "and it was like all of a sudden, hey, a piano! Whether it's in tune is probably questionable, but we can find out." The suite's main doors are swung open inwards, revealing the practically palatial interior. He stumps forward to the grand bar.

     Maddie still gives Balthazar another covert glance as she heads inside, then grins at Loki. "Hey, now! I did give you a choice in the matter! We just wanted you here with us because we love you, that's all." She sticks her tongue out at him, going to sprawl herself onto a sofa. "We won't tiptoe. We'll tap dance instead. Baz, do you have surf gear? If not, getting you hooked up will be the first thing we do when you're ready tomorrow."

     Loki moves for the bar as well, right behind Pres and giving the ingredients available a quick look for potential drink mixing. "That's what makes you so dangerous," he tells Maddie. "It always seems like a reasonable idea when you start manipulating people." The "you" of that probably doesn't refer to Maddie alone...

     He enters, and -- as he is last -- he closes the door behind him. He smiles to Maddie. "I remember specifically being instructed not to purchase anything ahead of time. In fact, I packed very lightly. I expected that tomorrow might be dedicated toward you finding all sorts of things that I needed to purchase right away." He shares a look with the other men in the room. What makes girls happier than spending someone else's money?
     Balthazar finishes his Spanish coffee as he heads to the bar. "Is there brandy there by any chance? Now that I've started in that direction, I should continue it. Though, I think there might have been rum involved as well. I'd imagine rum runs a bit like water in Oahu. The concierge had an entire menu dedicated to mai tais."

     "We won't go overboard," Maddie assures Balthazar. "Just the essentials, and we can discuss what and why we buy what we do. We can discuss it a bit now if you want, but there's no real need to." She sits up a bit more, calling to Loki, "I'll have a mai tai if you know how to make them! I haven't had one in ages." Says the sixteen-year-old.

     Pres looks mildly amused all round. "Gillian means well, and we love her, but I admit I love her better at a bit of a distance. She got mumsie's habit of knowing what's best for you, whether or not you agree, and she's better at talking around inconveniences in her arguments than mumsie is. Poor Gilly." Why it's poor Gilly he doesn't say, settling onto a barstool. "Make mine a whiskey sour, Pres, if you wouldn't mind."

     Loki starts making drinks in the order they were requested, but not until he's started coffee brewing. The bartender's choice comes first, when he's doing the mixing on a volunteer basis. From the efficient manner in which he starts sorting through bottles and bringing out glasses, it's not hard to see him having done this on a paid basis before. Balthazar's brandy goes sliding across the bar while he sets to sorting through the varieties of available rum.
     "So long as your family persists in using your cunning powers of linguistic persuasion for good, you'll only get so many complaints." He finds a set of edible flowers in the fridge, dropping one into Maddie's Mai Tai for a finisher. "People are less likely to complain about these things when they've been talked into Hawaiian vacations."

     Well, there's acknowledging her existence and then there's making her the topic of conversation. But... maybe that's what's needed. He laughs at Loki's comment, amber sparkling in his eyes as he does, and he takes the glass of brandy, gently stopping its slide.
     "You know he far better than I," he notes easily to Pres, his continued demeanor still easy-going as the topic du jour remains Gillian West. "I certainly wish her nothing but success and happiness, wherever or however she finds it. The only real interference she caused was for the good: I got a great drummer out of it. So, you'll not hear me take her name in vain." He pauses as he takes a swallow of the brandy. "That was last week."
     Glass in hand, Balthazar wanders to the sofa and takes a seat, which then becomes a leg-stretching lounge. The glass is held above through the stretch that ends in an exhale. "It was probably a mistake to sit down," he notes to himself, smirking at the rim of the glass. Swallow done, he looks to Maddie. "I trust you. I place myself in your capable hands. I don't think there's any reason to discuss it really. All you'll have to do is point me to the dressing room and the cashier..."

     "I won't put my feet in your lap," Maddie tells Balthazar cheerfully. She stretches over the arm of the sofa towards Loki for her glass. "Yummy! Thanks, adopted big brother. I won't tell anybody how you're helping to contribute to the delinquency of a minor." She takes a sip a quarter of the way around the glass's rim from the flower, looking contented.

     Pres smiles at Balthazar, watching him take his seat. "We won't go on about her. Loki, are you going to go surfing with them, or keep the wounded and infirm company? I don't care if you go, just lets me plan my day."

     Maddie bites her lip despite Pres' lack of rancor, turning her attention firmly onto Balthazar. "I won't make you pay for it. You're only learning because I offered, after all."

     The whiskey sour reaches Pres, and then Loki turns back to the coffee to start putting his own drink together, hiding a brief smile at Balthazar's compliment in the process. "I pay my way in Mai Tais," he tells Maddie, "and I figure you know better than to tell any of my parents about my corrupting influence on the young and innocent."
     He stays on his side of the bar once his next round of Irish coffee is ready, elbows propped on the bar. "I'm not likely to hit the waves tomorrow, Pres. Maybe the day after. I plan on sleeping in late and blaming it on jetlag. Actually, I'm planning on blaming everything I do tomorrow on jetlag. It's a great excuse."

     Balthazar's attention turns to the girl who shares his sofa. He wouldn't mind the feet, actually, come to think of it. Interesting. "Let me have the honor of buying whatever you pick out," he insists quietly. "That way, we both have fun. Besides, if I survive the lessons, who knows? I might even make a bit of a habit out of it. I love the water. I love the sun. This all sounds good to me."
     He loves the sun? Then what's he doing in London, of all places?
     He takes another swallow of the brandy with a tilt of a smile in place. Inebriation makes the jet-lag a little less annoying. You know, a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down and all...
     "That's alright," Balthazar says to Pres. "Honestly, you don't have to stop venting on my account." He chuckles at that, his breath a warm cloud against the glass as he tilts it for another swallow. "I have brothers and sisters. I know the routine quite well."
     Balthazar looks from Loki to Maddie. "I will probably swim in the morning to wake up. How early do you plan on starting?" he asks Maddie? "Am I insane to even consider that?" He grins suddenly.

     Pres grins briefly, leaning his cane against the stool and his elbow back on the bar as he takes a swallow of his drink. "Sleeping in sounds good to me. Maddie, don't try to drag us off at sun-up or I'll hit you with my cane."

     Maddie makes a horrible face at her brother. "I'm planning on getting up around seven-thirty or eight and hitting the waves then. It'll be reasonably into high tide by then, which is the only reason I'm getting up that early. I like sleeping in, you know, especially on vacay. What I figured we'd do," she directs this to Balthazar, "is after breakfast but before lunch we'll go to one of the surf shops on the island and get you set up. Then we can have a light lunch and after lunch I can start teaching you for a couple of hours - we don't want to be in the water at dawn or dusk."

     "It's the time when most shark attacks happen," Pres agrees. He doesn't look too concerned, but he does take a quick swig of his whiskey sour. "Sharks are most likely to confuse surfers with prey about then. There's also other reasons to avoid it then. Where do you three want to do dinner tomorrow night? There's the usual luau, of course, but those are a bit hokey. Maddie, you said there's ballroom dancing tomorrow night, right? Loki, you and Maddie want to hit the floor then?"

     Loki looks up from his drink, licking cream from the corner of his mouth. "Tomorrow night? Sure. That'll give me time to double-check a few details online against what I remember of the paso doble. I should probably hit the shops some time tomorrow myself and pick up a bathing suit. I don't seem to have one anywhere in London, so I didn't pack one along."
     "That sounds like a good plan for the first day. I will aim for getting up around eight, then. Do you want to meet for breakfast? I was planning on ordering room service while I become conscious," he notes to Maddie. And to the others -- he looks around after he says it.

     There's an understanding, a quiet realization as Pres mentions the sharks. He knows. But he doesn't remark on it so directly. "I'm fine for wherever. I've never been to Oahu, so I'll leave that up to you all. I'll eat next to anything," he grins.
     Finishing his brandy with a swallow, he looks to Maddie as he rises from the sofa to fix another round. "I didn't bring any sort of formal wear. I suppose I should shop for dinner while we're out. I wasn't really sure what to expect. I just knew that my London wardrobe was not going to work. So," he says to Loki, "...what's in a mai tai?"

     "I'm sleeping in til noon. After a semester of seven a.m. classes, I don't intend to move a toe out from under my blanket before nine a.m. at the earliest," Pres answers with a grin. He lifts his glass. "Depending on how many of these I have, make it eleven."

     Maddie perches with her knees under her, sipping at her drink as she does her best to ignore the elephant suddenly in the room. "We can practice before dinner," she offers to Loki. "Do a quick run-through and then improvise the rest on the floor. That's how paso doble is supposed to be done, after all. For dinner, why don't we eat here? Since there's ballroom dancing after, it'll be convenient."
     She grins at Balthazar with a touch of impudence. "Well, we can hit a formal wear place while we're getting the surf gear together, if you want. Or you can hit the place in the resort, but they're more expensive. I'd say go ahead and get room service, I'll hit the waves on my own in the morning, get a bit warmed up, and then we can go after breakfast. Sound good?"

     "It depends on the recipe. The modern standard is white rum, orange curacao, orgeat syrup, and lime juice, with dark rum floated on the top. Decorate with girly fruity bits to taste. Or you can go back to the original and use rock candy syrup with only one rum, or go with the pineapple juice version that has the creme de almond..." Loki picks up his coffee for another cream-laden sip. Too late to not bore people with the details. "But basically, rum with fruit juice."
     He nods to Maddie, pulling himself up from his slouch over the bar to see about making Pres a preemptive replacement drink. "Sixish? That should give us enough time before dinner to try out the basics and make sure we're not bumping into each other."

     "In that case, I may sleep until nine and then swim and then eat," Balthazar chuckles. At the bar, he selects a white rum and a dark rum and begins concocting what will likely go down in history as the strongest mai tai in the history of mai tais. "Where do you want to meet? You want to just pound on my door around eleven? Will that be too late?"
     White rum, mango nectar and dark rum. It's the Honolulu H-bomb.
     "I think formal shopping, while we're out. I'm not exactly going to be bargain hunting either way but I don't want to look like I never left the hotel," he cuts a look to them all with the sliding of a smile. "I would say look like a tourist but then...that's how everyone looks."
     There's an understanding half-chuckle to Pres. "I don't blame you. Ten is starting to sound pretty good to me," he murmurs as he passes from the bar back to the sofa. He sits and then stretches out in a lounge again. Immediately comfortable. "I will be learning quite a bit tomorrow. First surfing and then dancing. I suppose this should be my last drink. There won't be any pop quizzes or anything will there?" Balthazar asks Maddie as he rests his head against the sofa's pillows and turns to look at her. His hand balances his drink on a fit, khaki thigh.

     "I'll bang on your door, sure. We're in the same wing, I think - you said Dolphin, right? Eleven'll be fine, gives us plenty of time," Maddie assures Balthazar with a grin that forebodes mischief. "The only pop quizzes will be the ones Mother Nature springs on you. But don't worry. I'm a very good teacher."
     "She is, actually," Pres contributes by way of agreement. "People she teaches stay taught. And people she kisses-"
     "Pres don't you dare," Maddie interrupts, blushing and plucking the flower out of her drink and tossing it at her brother. He ducks and it lands in his hair. She pulls off her mantilla, hair tumbling out from the combs in loose waves, threatening to toss that too. "You are such a stinker!"

     "Mercy," Pres begs dramatically, pulling the flower out of his hair. "Mercy. You could put an eye out with that thing. I surrender, Kitty. On that note, I think I'm going to start getting ready for bed. Loki, you can hold down the fort if you want, but you know how long it takes me to get into pajamas these days."

     "I'm heading the same direction once I'm done with this drink," Loki says, lifting his nearly empty glass. "Otherwise I'll have another, and soon I'll be downright nocturnal, which is not the ideal way to spend a Hawaiian vacation."

     Even his cheeks colored a little at the notion of kissing. "I believe that's what they call going out on a high note." Balthazar looks to Maddie as he rises from the sofa, mai tai still in hand. "Right. Dolphin Lagoon wing, room 104. I'll set my alarm, don't worry."
     "Does it rhyme with taught?" he wonders with a chuckle to Pres. "It was a pleasure drinking with you all. I'll see you in the morning. And... thanks... really, for the invite."
     Balthazar sets the mostly empty glass on the bar. "Mind if I leave this here? I'm not sure whether they appreciate wandering beverages, tasty though they may be." He takes a moment for the view, and then checks his pockets for the key. It's a card key, as most are these days.
     "Good night, everyone." Balthazar smiles to Maddie as he pauses at the door. "I'll see you in the morning. Night."
     He will give the three old friends a moment or two without him, the Interloper, being involved (however well invited).

     She finishes her drink, rising to her feet and still blushing. "Good night, Baz. Pleasant dreams," Maddie calls after Balthazar. She runs her fingers through her hair self-consciously as she watches him leave. Behind her, Pres laughs...

     Loki waves to Balthazar with his glass, not inclined to leave his comfortable place behind the bar. With the coffee. And all the alcohol in easy reach.

     Pres grins at Maddie. "Don't you think he's a little out of your league, sis?" he teases gently. "A little old for you." He grabs his cane, easing himself off the stool by degrees and then looking to Loki. "What's your take on it? I mean, honest opinion time."

     "Age divided by two plus seven," Loki says. "Minimum dating appropriate age for him is 17. Yes, he's too old for you, Maddie." He tilts back his glass to finish off the rest. "He's also living in a different country. But there's nothing wrong with vacation crushes." He looks over at Pres. "Which is about as close as I'm going to get to a lecture. Forbidding warnings are strictly the privilege of the actual older brother."

     Maddie looks close to exploding. "I'll be seventeen in June! Anyway, it's not any of your business - either of you! Out of my league?" The mantilla's thrown at Pres without a care, and it looks fortunate for him that the glass doesn't follow. "I'll remind both of you that I'm also graduating in June, and what I decide to do with my life at that point is up to me and nobody else!"

     "Except mumsie and dad," Pres points out, with more resignation than irritation. "You're still only going to be seventeen, Kitty. Unless you know something I don't, they still have to agree to pay for wherever you're going next. Look, let's not fight about it, okay? You like him, I haven't seen any sign that he's going to be anything other than a gentleman, and if I do see it, I'll handle it then. It's not likely he's going to be interested in a kid like you, sis. No offense, but he's older than you and in a band, and as Loki's pointed out, living in a different country. Don't take him being kind as more. I don't want to see you hurt."

     Maddie looks speechless and for a moment, close to tears. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then whirls and stalks to the door, slamming her way out.

     Pres sighs. "That went well." He leans heavily on his cane.

     Loki winces at the slamming door, and looks into his glass. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I trust his common sense, whatever Maddie's fit of teenage romance may be telling her right now."

     "Maddie's got a big heart. It's why I'm worried about her getting hurt. She wants people to be happy, and she invests herself in it." Pres limps his way towards one of the bedroom doors. "Not just her own. I love her and I really don't want to see her crash when this goes sour, but hopefully he'll let her down gently. At least she's not got to the point of hearts floating over her head or anything. She seems to genuinely want him to learn to surf and so on - she's not leading with her heart that I can see so far."
     He sighs again, shaking his head. "I'm going to grab a quick shower. If you want to find a video or something, feel free, but I'm probably going to head to bed pretty soon. Do you think I handled it right? Or do you think I should have a word with Balthazar before she gets too crazy about him?"

     Loki watches the door Maddie stormed through as if it might helpfully offer some answers. Nope. Drat. "It was a conversation the two of you were going to have eventually, so it's just as well to get it out of the way early. I don't think talking to him about it would do much good. It probably wouldn't hurt, either, but he's been through wild infatuation from the other side recently, so I think he can recognize the symptoms. It's just the one vacation, and then they go back to different places."
     He leaves the bar to start tidying up, collecting glasses from around the room to bring to the sink. "If the crush holds until summer, maybe then it's time to talk to him, but it's still early."

     "If it is," Pres answers, half to himself. He shakes his head. "I'm not going to talk to him. Then I'd be getting into Gillian territory, and you know, I don't like it when she and mumsie get like that, I'm not going to fall into that trap myself. I can't protect Maddie. Hell, I can't even protect myself, can I?"
     He shrugs and heads through the door. "See you in the morning, Loki. I'm going to catch some zees. Lemme know if you need anything, okay? It's all going on the card." He smirks. "Mumsie might not pay for an operation, but she'll pay for this." He heads for the shower.

     Loki waves idly with a dirty glass as Pres disappears, and turns on the faucet in the sink, never mind that a very well paid staff is available to handle dirty dishes in the morning. Which just means it's time to stop trying to convince someone unreasonable, and do an end run around her. Your mother's not the only person in the world with money.

Posted by rowan at March 28, 2009 07:43 PM