Crumbling Cakes

Part XIX (19)

A/N: Confession time, there are several bonus Sebastian POV's written for out of view conversations that passed and are to come. The question is, are they even wanted?

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I walked through the door of Fitzies and took a moment to embrace the warmth that circled me in a tight embrace. Then my hearing adjusted to the cacophony of chatter that surrounded us. 

Fitzies was split into two sections. In the center was the bar resting up against the wall. Immediately to the right of the bar was the hallway to the restrooms. There were booths on both sides along with regular tables. It was your typical pub atmosphere except for the golden item that stuck out like a sore thumb. That would be the mechanical bull that was tucked in the right section close to the windows. It appeared that Fitzies used to be a southern bar many moons ago and the new owners liked the bull too much. Who could blame them?

Sebastian rested a palm on my back—causing the naughty part of my brain to squeal in delight, a new favorite; at this rate, I was going to turn into Julie Andrews singing about all of my favorite Ronaldo things. He lifted a finger to a booth in the far corner to the left of the bar. There sat Blake, just scrolling through his phone with a fresh beer before him. "There he is."

"Remember you don't have to drink every glass he slips you. Be strong, Gladys." I patted his arm and Sebastian chuckled.

"Noted." I followed Ronaldo to the table. Using the moment to prepare for a night of potential bomb dodging. All too soon we arrived at our destination.

"Ah Ariel, so kind of you to join me on this fine evening. I was beginning to think you were getting cold feet." Ariel? This I had to know about. I stepped out from behind Sebastian's back and shot an amused smile at Blake. His eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of me; if that was even possible. The guy's eyes were always shining. "And you brought me a gift! How very sweet of you."

"For the last time, stop calling me that." Sebastian huffed, stepping back to let me into the booth first.

"Come now, Sebastian. Why so crabby? The sea just calls to you, my little mermaid pal." Sebastian snorted and that alone got me to sit on the closer side of my semi-slave laborer, boss, and friend. No harm in it, certainly.

"Right and by that logic, Ariel doesn't fit the bill." He lifted a finger to the nearest waitress and she mouthed one second. "My name does exist in the actual character line up." He grunted.

"But you're just so pretty to look at." Blake grinned. "However, I must say, you should stick to mute Ariel. Your singing is not to be taken lightly." I buried my mouth behind my hand—in the guise of resting my chin on my palm—to stifle my chuckle. Blake missed nothing and he turned his attention to me. "It's quite deadly, I assure you."

"Is that so?" I peeked up in confirmation at Sebastian who betrayed nada. "Ronaldo doesn't tend to sing around us."

"Not surprised in the least. Lethal could also be used in this circumstance. I can tell you ghastly horror stories from our formative years." Blake rested a hand on my forearm. "We did learn from our mistakes, that I can assure you as well. Which is why we don't encourage Ariel to share a tune."

Sebastian used his fork to poke at Blake's hand until it moved away, successfully removing the contact. "Ha-ha."

"Don't pout so, Ian." Blake feigned rubbing at his now "abused" hand. Ian, hmm, I like the sound of that one... "It will give you wrinkles and then where will our dazzling ocean beauty be?"

"This dazzling beauty will fall back on his talents. That's where." Ronaldo sniffed.

"Be that as it may, without a voice, 'you'll need your looks. Your pretty face.'" Blake ended in a surprisingly acute rendition. There was no stopping my cackle, as ungraceful as it was; putting my loyalty to Ronaldo in question. Oops. It only got worse when I caught Sebastian lazily throwing his napkin at Blake's face, and the latter swatting it away. "See, she gets it!"