The Last Word (Ketchbriel, 10/?)
Title: The Last Word Who: Ketch, Gabriel What: They go for that drink that they earned. Word Count: 735 Warnings: None
When Ketch found himself on solid ground again, he realized two things: his bag was gone and that he was now dressed in a sharp double-breasted tweed suit while Gabriel’s suit was a little more casual.
“Handy,” Ketch said as he took in his new surroundings. “Where is my gear?”
Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “It’s at my place. It’s fine.”
Ketch nodded. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” The alleyway was too comparatively clean for its own good. The ground wasn’t littered with cigarette butts or gum wrappers or any signs that people would congregate in the area.
“Totally,” Gabriel said as he knocked on a door. They waited for a moment, but there was no response.
“You guys looking to see a man about the dog?” a clean-cut man asked approaching him.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said eyeing him wearily.
“You musn’t be local. It shut down five years ago,” the guy said mournfully.
“I’ve been away.” Gabriel was frowning, clearly not liking the reminder of how long he’d been gone.
“What happened?” Ketch asked.
“A girl overdosed on the hooch and died. Worst still, she was underage to boot. It was quite the scandal. The owner went to jail for a bit and came out to a lawsuit that took him for all he was worth.
“Unfortunate.”
“Seriously. Anyway. Some of the bartenders who didn’t get caught in the crossfire opened up a place a few blocks to the east. Even though this one is completely aboveboard, they managed to mostly capture the old vibe. I’m going that way, I can take you there if you like.”
“Gabriel?” Ketch offered. “Are you up for it?”
“You owe me the first round,” Gabriel insisted.
“So I do,” Ketch agreed. “Lead the way.”
“Mark,” their guide offered.
“Ketch,” he offered.
“So what brings you out this way?” Mark asked Ketch as Gabriel followed behind.
“A bit of a celebration,” he replied. “I’m a freelancer who just got out from under a real demon of a contract.”
Gabriel snorted.
“I feel you man. The gig economy is tough, ain’t it?”
“The worst,” Ketch replied drily, even if he wasn’t quite sure what the gig economy was. “I’m considering a field change.”
“Hang in there. There are far more douchebags out there than the good ones but find one a good one and you are set.”
“All right,” Mark said. “Here we are,” he said nodding at a non-descript door. “Have one for me, would you?” He looked wistful. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you later sometime.”
“That would be fun,” Ketch said politely as the parted with a polite wave.
“Look at you,” Gabriel said as they entered the darkened room. “Playing all nice with the common folk. I didn’t you stuffy Men of Letters types had it in you.”
“It’s just that,” Ketch said blandly, his eyes belying a sense of mirth. “I never did learn to not play with my food.”
“Oooh, a vampire in the ranks. How scandalous,” Gabriel said, eyebrows wagging.
“It would be quite the cause celebre wouldn’t it? Imagine, a vampire infiltrating the Men of Letters without setting off a single ward. Dozens would lose have to be killed for their failures, of course, and then the ones that were left would fight for the privilege of being the ones to figure out how they did it.”
“Good evening, sirs,” a waitress in a sleek little vintage cocktail dress approached their table. “What can I get for you tonight?”
The music was loud enough to be heard, but soft enough that no yelling had to occur to place their order. Ketch appreciated places that understood that balance.
“We’ll both have one of whatever your specialty is,” Ketch said.
“Two Last Words it is,” she jotted in her notebook. “I’ll have those right up for you.”
“I didn’t take you for a cocktail man,” Gabriel said.
“When it Rome, right?” Ketch said.
“That’s the spirit!” the archangel said. “You really didn’t want to drink bath tub gin straight. That stuff would make me drunk in only a few pints, max.”
Ketch laughed as the waitress returned with their drinks.
“The Last Word for you,” she said as she handed Ketch his drink. “And the Last Word for you,” she said setting Gabriel’s drink down. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”
Ketch picked up his glass in a toast.
“To a world without Asmodeous.”
“Amen.”
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