NaNoWriMo Story Snippets

64. Excerpt from supernatural bartender AU

Similar to the other bartender AU I had started, but this one takes place in a supernaturals-only establishment. Timeline AU because The Shield are relatively new to the main roster, but Becky still isn't wrestling again.

Transferable skills. Becky had learned the value of those long ago, and she doubted there were many skills more transferable than bartending. She was in the United States now, her third country since leaving home, and her bartending experience had done more for her than any schooling, much to her mother's chagrin. She had been a curiosity in Germany and adored in Canada, and now she was working her way closer to Los Angeles, her ultimate dream. Good thing there are Xenial clubs everywhere, she thought as she scanned her employee card to get in the staff entrance. Out front, the line for patrons to get in was already around the block.

Even after working at five of its locations, Becky was still baffled by Xenial's reach. It was a club for supernaturals only and it could hardly advertise as such, and yet she had never been to one that wasn't busy. Growing up with a trace of banshee blood, she hadn't realized just how many supernaturals there were left in the world. If it hadn't been for that trace—on her mother's side, much to her surprise—she might not have learned about magic at all. She barely qualified for employment at Xenial as it was, so she appreciated the world-wide safety net her heritage gave her.

"There's my favourite spirit advisor!" Alena called out when Becky made her way into the stock room. "Thanks for coming in on such short notice, babe. I really appreciate it."

Becky waved as she stowed her purse in her locker. No one at this Xenial hassled her for her weakened magic, and she knew it was in large part because Alena wouldn't have it. The siren had no patience for what she called the purity police and actively tried to hire people who weren't full-blooded supernaturals. "No worries. I didn't have any plans for the weekend anyway," Becky replied, "so at least this way I'll get to have some fun."

"I'll make a note on your file and whenever you need a specific day off," Alena said, "it's yours. I'll make it happen." Then she patted Becky's shoulder as she hurried past with a bag of ice for the bar. "Don't forget to cuff up! Lots of vamps in the club tonight, and they've been asking everyone for a sip."

Glancing over at the bins of coloured cuffs, Becky sighed. Xenial had started out as a franchise of bars where supernaturals could gather safely. Since then, it had grown to include hotels in most locations, giving those same patrons a magic-friendly place to crash for the night or spend longer if they liked. The close proximity of beds and booze inevitably led to hook-ups, and Xenial capitalized on that as well, offering supernatural sex workers a safe place to ply their trade. As in bars all over the world, bartenders and staff were often propositioned, so to try making things clearer, Xenial had a colour-coded system. If a staff member was wearing a red cuff, they weren't interested in any advances, sexual or otherwise. A green cuff meant that they could be approached. Becky wasn't dating anyone—not that deterred some of her co-workers from going green—but she usually opted for red. She joked it was because it matched her fiery orange hair, but mostly she didn't want to deal with any drama.

That night, though, Becky hesitated. The cuffs covered a lot of ground—sex, vampire bites, magic and more—but they were only the first step. She would still have to agree and even then, depending on what was asked for, there could be so many steps it was almost like entering a legal agreement. It could be a pain, but for some reason, the green cuff was calling her so she slipped one on her wrist and headed out to the bar.

Alena had mentioned there were a lot of vampires in the club, but there was a lot of everyone: shapeshifters, fairies, elementals. When she caught a note of demonic resonance, Becky instinctively looked for Fergal, but she couldn't see him in the throng. Stop it already, she told herself as she stepped behind the bar. You left him, remember? Back then, it had hurt to be so close to the supernatural world knowing her place in it was so small; now she sought refuge in that vastness, her anonymity. Who was going to remember some weak little half-blood banshee from the bar?

"Busy night tonight," Clement called out as he passed by her with a tray of empty glasses. "And it's not even the full moon yet!" He tapped the ever-changing schedule behind the bar for good luck. Obvious things like holidays were marked, but they also tracked the full moons for were-creatures, sunrise and sunset for vampires, and other sensitive information for various subspecies.

Becky welcomed the chaos. Hearing the cheery cacophony lightened her spirits and called to her banshee blood somehow, making her steps a bit lighter as she zipped back and forth along the bar, mixing drinks and stuffing tips in the communal jar. Judging by how full it already was and how much longer the club was going to be open, she figured the bar staff was going to have a nice bonus at the end of the night. "Is there some special event tonight?" she asked Clement when he managed to stop for more than three seconds.

Glancing at the calendar, he shrugged. "Not that I know of. Maybe we need to update the calendar."

"Maybe." Becky couldn't keep track of the turnover, but it seemed pretty steady. Despite the raucous crowd, though, everything seemed pretty peaceful: none of the bouncers had come to the bar issuing a warning about a particular patron, no one had been ejected from the bar, and most of the misunderstandings can been solved with a calm word or two or an extra drink. The demonic hum flared again and Becky glanced up from her pour to see three black-clad men approaching. She straightened up as she gave the customer her drink and smiled at the newcomers. "Welcome to Xenial New York City," she said out of habit. "What can I get for you?"

"Your number?" His hair was half dark brown, half dyed blond, and the darker half tumbled into his eyes as he leaned on the bar.