Night's Omen

It wasn't as if she had never been there, but somehow Darren had always insisted that he make it back to their apartment by himself after his late-night shifts, and Mars had never bothered to resist, figuring that the male was capable of taking care of himself. Besides, nothing had happened in the past few years, and besides that the Hollow's proprietor was a somewhat... intimidating figure (to say the least), so Mars highly doubted the likelihood of violent showdowns occurring on a regular basis, never mind ones that resulted in a marred bartender.

With such buoyant thoughts (but still a handgun and short blade concealed, as had become her habit when traveling under the moon's glow or past seven o'clock), Mars smirked her way through the entrance, offering the bouncer her characteristically beguiling expression, and was greeted by the dull thudding of bass - somehow the music was never excessively loud here, though the girl could think of a few reasons why - and pockets of people lounging around with drinks in hand.

Making her way through the space, she maneuvered her way onto a barstool and settled the seat of her slim, black jeans onto the red vinyl. Flipping a few strands of raven hair out of her line of sight, as it was prone to misbehaving and settling artfully but haphazardly all over her delicate features, Mars put on a vaguely disarming expression and leaned her lithe frame over the counter, greeting the familiar figure behind it with a breathy sort of invitation.

"Gin and tonic, light on the mint yeah?" Still, the sight of her boyfriend mixing drinks behind the counter always evoked a sort of amusement in her, and the corners of her lips twitched as evidence of that.

Darren actually had good reason for insisting upon getting back to the apartment on his own after his shift, but part of it was pure pride.  He was a bartender and his girlfriend was a kick ass vampire hunter.  He could handle that, and did, but he did like to think that he could take care of himself well enough to walk to his car after work.  He also didn't want her in the Hollow that late for more important issues, though.  If she was going to come in, he'd prefer she stop by during an earlier shift of his, since it meant he could keep a better eye on what was going on.  At this time of night, the Hollow was busy, the crowd was extremely diverse, and it was his job to ensure that nothing major happened.  Ash Leone, the Hellcat himself, only employed one human, and that was more out of protection for Leander than anything else.  Ash's other employees were predominantly shifters, which was in the hopes that they could control the crowd.  Darren had gotten 'marred' more times than he'd have been willing to admit to Mars without her asking it directly.

He'd caught a whiff of her scent over the smell of alcohol while he mixed drinks and teased customers, but he hadn't actually had a chance to acknowledge it until he heard her speak.  His lips twitched into the slightest of smirks, but he reacted to her like any other customer, without turning around.  "You got it," he told her simply, mixing her drink up and setting another customer's jager-bomb down in front of them before coming to a halt before her.

"Gin and tonic, light on the mint, heavy on the spice," he announced, leaning over the bar quickly to steal a kiss and grant her a grin.  "Tonight's special, on the house, babe."

The twitching that begged desperately at her lips finally broke into a grin as she leaned in closer to Darren for a quick, stolen kiss. Mars accepted the drink - one of her favorites, barring any and all teasing she endured from Darren about drinking 'old man drinks' - and lifted the glass to her lips, imbibing a few sips before pronouncing it delicious and setting it down on the glass counter once more.

"Very heavy on the spice," she half-purred, though that was normally his job, and the rose-petal lips parted again in a half-smirk, half-pout, "And that tab you've been running for Connor and I must be through the roof. I'm surprised the Hellcat hasn't given you any issues for it. Must be quite the little tip-getter 'round here."

The remark wasn't complete in effect without the arched eyebrow, though her lips gave away any malice in the jest. Cajoling aside, Mars wasn't the least bit concerned about Darren's attention-getting ways from the female clientele, given that most of them were either not competent enough to be outwitted by him or on their own agendas. A casual glance around the gathering combined with Mars's characteristically keen sense of observation told her that the clientele on that particular night consisted mostly of humans, with a few pockets here and there of 'others', though nothing at an alarming population.

"Wouldn't blame 'em, given those hands of yours," she dropped not-so-subtlely, followed by another sip of her gin and tonic, and a nonchalant glance-over with those amber eyes, "For uhhh, y'know. Mixing drinks and whatnot," the words slid out, tone silken, amorous in an almost growling sort of way. Pity, of course, that her eyes remained steely. What a shameless tease. There was, of course, a legitimate reason she was here, and not because her Advanced Economic Analysis lecture had let out early and left her with a strange dearth of homework.

'Very heavy on the spice' was just about the only way he'd make anything for her, though she was also the only one who truly got any of that sort of spice from him, despite his teasing and flirting.  He'd gotten a catcall or two (pardon the pun) from a few customers due to the kiss across the bar, but nobody was in need of a drink at the moment, so he could spare some time for her right then.  

He winked, flashing her kitty cat eyes for an instant, and kept the grin.  "It's not just the hands that keep the customers coming back," he remarked smoothly.  "Everyone likes a little spice sometimes.  What brings you in here tonight, though?  Somehow, I doubt Connor sent you out drinking without him."

A very slight snort escaped her at the mention of his cousin and her, er, 'superior' (though she treated him as more of a brother figure than anything else, ironic given that he had an actual sister named 'Chase'), but it didn't arise out of contempt or derision, but amusement. Her tone quickly turned serious before oscillating back to its playful self as she remarked on Connor, "Poor guy, really. In the state he's been lately. Undoubtedly needs a few drinks. But actually, I came by because I've missed the little 'Vet," she explained, expression perfectly serious, referring to the Corvette they shared-but-was-mostly-Darren's, "...And because I picked up some bread pudding and cupcakes from Sprinkles down by campus. I figured we needed a little... pick-me-up," she finished vaguely, licking the excess liquid off her lips from the last gulp and chewing on the sprig of mint.

"Considering that it was my boyfriend and mine's three-year anniversary about three nights ago. You haven't seen him around, have you? He's been so busy and all lately..." she had finally arrived at the topic of contention, feigning a nonchalant sort of hurt that only her beguiling tone could muster, though the honeyed eyes never ceased to twinkle. Fingertips tapped idly at the countertop as she awaited his reaction.

His grin faltered slightly at the mention of Connor's more recent troubles, but they were all trying to keep it quiet for the time being.  Until he could figure out what to do about Guild Leadership, should he be challenged.  Darren only knew because Chase (his cousin, not Mars) and Jordan had found out.  Mars was helping to keep Connor from getting jumped, but that was something that surprised him about his cousin.  The man had seemed to discreetly collect a little bodyguard squad.  Darren was impressed.

"Ahh, of course!  The car gets all the love," he said, sighing dramatically.  "Well, she's all yours the next time you go off somewhere that isn't likely to involve blood on the seats, alright?"

He joked, but that was only because Mars didn't often end up coming home bloody.  He'd have been less pleasant about her being a hunter if that weren't the case.  "Mmm, I love Sprinkles' cupcakes.  If I see that no-good boyfriend of yours, I'll let him know what he's missing out on.  In the meantime, let my girlfriend know that she's been off hunting psychopathic supernaturals too often lately, and I want to take her out for dinner.  Something about an anniversary?" he suggested, looking at her as though he didn't know.  In truth, they'd BOTH been way too busy lately, but he'd taken off the following night, and was determined to take her out for a change.  

The beguiling gaze continued as she looked at him over the rim of her raised tumbler, the clear liquid flowing into her partially opened mouth. She chewed thoughtfully on the mint sprig, allowing the fresh tingle to spread slowly onto her tongue, and glanced down at her now-lowered glass, its edges frosty with the liquid inside. Truth be told, work had gotten a lot more hectic since Connor's little... incident... and it didn't help that Capri had supposedly stormed out.

Now all he had left to resist others finding out and risking leadership coup was basically Mars, Jordan, and a few other trusted members. Mars had asked him to see outside help, discretely of course, so as to not risk a security breach, but Connor had resisted, insisting that he would be 'fine'. Mars had nearly stormed out then as well, livid at the man's stubbornness, but she supposed that he couldn't be blamed. Little did Darren know, Mars had wiped the blood streaks from the car's leather seats more than once now before returning home so as to not arouse suspicion. She didn't like Darren being any closer or more knowledgeable about her work than necessary, and naturally she liked it even less when he was concerned for her safety health.

These thoughts ran through her mind with remarkable speed, and she had hardly set the glass down before they vanished and she spoke once more.

"Dinner? What a lucky girl," the 'l' sound rolled off her tongue and lingered a few milliseconds longer than normal, before addressing his car concerns, "And no worries. No blood, no blood." Except for what I spill, she finished silently. Somehow over the years it had become alright with her that such distasteful thoughts appeared in her mind, but it wasn't as if Mars could help it. When she had first begun the job, almost three years ago to this day, she had been horrified and panicked at nearly every turn, but experience and swift aim had reassured her, and she managed to complete jobs intact and unscathed now, for the most part.

She leaned her chin upon her palm, resting her elbow lightly on the counter, which she knew was a mistake as soon as she did so. In an effort to mask her wince, she subtlely shifted positions and cleared her throat. No need for Darren to be distracted by cuts and bruises, as he usually was - save that this one was rather stubborn and wouldn't heal properly. Mars silently cursed the now-dead vampire; the result of their scuffle had left him dead and Mars battered, and though her bruises healed rather well, the gash that ran from the backside of her forearm to the middle of her upper arm had refused to for the past few days. It was troublesome, most of all when she and Darren shared the bed. If it weren't for the fact that he usually stumbled in rather late after his shift and was exhausted, he would've long ago spotted the bandages.

Keeping him from being concerned about her safety in her line of work was absolutely impossible, but he tried his best.  He was a shifter, and a predator at that, so the scent of blood was never missed.  He was just discreet about his knowledge, refusing to overreact so long as she was well enough to attempt hiding it.  He knew she didn't want him to worry, and so he tried not to.  It was what had prompted him to mention the 'no blood' rule in the car, and if she really thought that he didn't notice a smell of blood on her in bed, then she was fooling herself well.  He couldn't miss it, especially on the nights when he was the most exhausted, since that was when his feline thoughts were closest to the surface, but he hadn't told her that.  Just the fact that his being a shifter didn't bother her like it would a number of other people was a miracle in his eyes, so he wasn't about to freak her out by telling her something like that.

Sometimes though, his worry somehow managed to overcome his better plans.  

"Very lucky," he agreed, catching a gesture from a customer just a few chairs down for another beer, and he pulled it from the cooler in front of him, popped the top off and passed it off to the man before marking it on his tab and returning to Chase in order to finish his thoughts.  

"So lucky, in fact, that I deliberately chose a restaurant where longer-sleeves would be appropriate, since she doesn't have a habit of seeing the doctor when she needs to," he said seriously, having taken note of her shifting.  He might not have if he hadn't already been suspicious and he wouldn't have normally said anything, but it had been a few days already.  Usually, she was fine by now.

He was doing it again - the 'Darren is worried about you but loves you anyway even though you've been hiding things from him' expression was unmistakable as the seriousness in his words now, and she sighed, staring into the bottom of her nearly-drained glass and rolling her tongue's rough surface over the enamel of her back teeth, giving her jaw a very 'set' sort of sort. Bristling slightly, she peered at him carefully.

The jig was definitely up, and she couldn't say she was exactly peeved or relieved, but the dynamic between them had been so off-kilter ever since she joined Crimson as a hunter that sometimes she didn't know if Darren resented the fact that she had joined or was merely irritated at the frequency with which she was injured. Naturally, both of them understood the kind of danger inherent in the job, but the game of cat-and-mouse with dodging his questions and missing anniversaries took its toll too.

She removed the sprig of mint from between her lips with some hesitation before settling it down into the tumbler, avoiding his gaze for a few seconds before daring to make eye contact. There was something inexplicable about his expression that made her want to cry and laugh at the same time; it was sorely evident that he cared but tried not to care too much, and often Mars imagined her mangled body down some alley, discovered a bit too late by fellow guild members, and the grief that she didn't know if Darren was prepared for.

What an optimist.

"Thanks," were her only words, all at once gentle and defeated. Of course Darren knew about her scars and bruises; she had been with him much too long for her to hide most things successfully from him without invoking her gifts, and she had long ago promised never to do that, with few exceptions.

"Pesky, isn't it? Now I'll have to find a long-sleeved gown, and nobody's done that since the '80s," she jested, halfheartedly. She usually chose to make light of his concern, often falling back on her 'trump' card: the fact that she was the buttkicking hunter, though she knew it didn't faze him in the least. Avoiding the topic of her injury on purpose, she inhaled sharply, then exhaled.

She could have asked Darren at any time if he would be prepared for the very real possibility that her body could be found mutilated in some alley because someone had gotten the drop on her, and he'd have given her an answer.  He'd have lied, though.  There was nothing in the world that could prepare him for something like that, and despite all attempts at keeping things as simple as possible, he'd gotten hopelessly attached to Mars.  He didn't even want to consider losing her, even if it was quite possible.

Perhaps it was that refusal to think about what would happen if she died that fueled his concern, but hey, at least he tried not to stress over it.  "You're welcome.  I have no doubt you'll look amazing, as usual," he assured her, pulling together a second drink for her, just in case she wanted it, while he made someone else's.

"Will you let me see it when we get home?" he asked carefully, hoping she'd agree.  He didn't have any huge skill in medicine, but he knew enough from time spent visiting Connor in the infirmary and from his own hurts after nasty supernatural bar brawls that he could at least reassure himself that he was overreacting once he saw it.

So long as he WAS overreacting.

Her hardened gaze had softened at his first remark, though nothing kept her from fidgeting every so slightly as his request left his lips. She knew that every occasion he had ever examined her physical damage had resulted in an argument, in which he had silently brooded while trying to maintain a mildly disconcerted facade, while she had exercised the temper that her mother gave her and resorted to slamming things or bickering. The girl had never been big on simmering anger, preferring to let things spill over and clean up the mess later. Perhaps it was time to rethink that strategy.

The alcohol almost never affected her, so she took up his offer of a second,  pleased to see that he had used Grey Goose in his raspberry-cranberry concoction of a cosmopolitan. The strong lemon zest was a reminder of how much he had become a part of her life in the past three years; he had memorized her drinks down to the specificity of zest dosages. It was altogether too much of a sharp reminder of the pain they'd both eventually suffer, though Mars was certain that hers would result in death and his... well, she'd only hoped that he hadn't set his heart on seeing the diamond on her finger for long before he'd have to pry it off and set it on someone else's.

"Mmh," she offered a noncommital response to his request, knowing that she'd give in as soon as they got home anyway, but then twisted her lips into a pout, "After some bread pudding, cupcakes, and some melon liquor?" She knew he wouldn't refuse, especially as liquor gave her a happy sheen and was almost a guarantee for a good romp in the sheets later; being a witch ensured that she wouldn't be intoxicated, but excess amounts resulted in a pleasant glow. Leaning back in her stool, and ignoring the jeers of a nearby pocket of evident bachelors, Mars studied her boyfriend and remembered her initial reason for the visit.

"That's what I was here for, actually - besides the 'Vet. No festivities are complete without the liquor. And I checked the schedule. Neither of us have class tomorrow," she reminded, which was a rare treat given their academic demands. He was about to graduate in a few months.

Neither of them having class the next day immediately got him to perk up, and a slow smile spread across his face.  Both of them being free to sleep in was such a rare event that his mind immediately leapt into the gutter, though it made a few pit stops on the way that included the bread pudding, cupcakes and liquor.  The night ahead was sounding better and better, so long as he made it through his shift without any trouble.

He shot the bachelors making noises at Mars a dark look, allowing his eyes to flash feline at them, and smirked when one of them pointed him out to the others.  It was part of his job to get jeered at by whoever he was trying to make tips off of, but it wasn't required of Mars.  Even if she could take care of herself better than he could.

"You said melon, right?" he asked, ensuring that he'd heard her right.  Her preference wasn't always the same when they got a bottle of something, so he wanted to be sure.  At her confirmation, he plucked a few bills out of his tip jar to pay for the bottle, and pulled one out of one of the lower cupboards against the back wall.  He bagged it and paid for it right there so that he could give it to her immediately.  He didn't want to run the risk of forgetting if he got busy or distracted.

"Alright, so here's the deal, Lady Lang.  You may have the liquor, but not the car.  I need something to keep you coming in to see me," he informed her, setting the bottle on the bar before her.  

At his handing over the gem-hued shade of emerald liquor, Mars brightened considerably, only for her lips to fall back into the characteristic pout before leaning over to accept the bagged bottle. Noting the dark look he shot at the group of bachelors, she clucked a thin, barely-audible 'aw' at his efforts and stole another quick kiss.

"My big strong maaaaan. You win about the car, but that means I'll have to stay until the end of your shift. I asked Eliska to drop me off here after our problem session," she mentioned nonchalantly, "The cupcakes and bread pudding are chillin' in our fridge. So if those guys are hopin' that I'll stick around, they'll get their wish.

But if they hope for anything beyond mere ogling, those pigs had better get used to facing some claws," she remarked, with a mild roll of her honeyed eyes as she turned around and shot the group a rather disarming grin and a wink, knowing that Darren would almost immediately reprimand her for it - but he should've known by now that Mars nearly invited trouble wherever she went, and still had an annoying knack for unwittingly aggravating a situation until it bordered on reckless and out of control, when she snapped it back to order once more, usually with a quick shut-down powered by either her sharp remarks or sharp aim.

As if the job alone weren't thrilling enough.

Stowing the bottle underneath the counter, in the niche that she knew existed from repeated and frequent visits, Mars continued to toy with her martini glass, remembering quite suddenly something that Connor had briefly mentioned to her, and lowered her voice. She never liked to display much physical affection with Darren in public, but tonight had been somewhat of an exception; she didn't sense any trouble amongst the crowd. Usually, knowledge of a romantic attachment between Hunters and those outside of the guilds and affiliations spelled trouble for the significant other. She lived in fear of the day that a vampire would spot her canoodling with Darren and then corner him in a dark alley when she wasn't around.

"Have you been, ahh, working out lately?"

He sighed, rolling his own eyes when she commented on the guys that were ogling her and making comments, then proceeded to encourage them.  That he'd gotten a little kiss out of her in the process had to have shown them to back off, but not many men would turn down even casual interest from a woman while drinking.  She wasn't kidding when she mentioned claws, though.  If they so much as tried anything with her, he'd be on them.  In the meantime, he would just keep his usual eye on the crowd in general.  Mars wouldn't find trouble in the Hollow while he was there, and she could handle most trouble on her own, however reluctant he was to think about her in trouble.  

"You're such a tease," he told her with a good-natured sigh and smile, heading off to handle some new customers for a few moments before stopping by in front of her to pour their beers.  Mars had long ago realized which seat put her in a position to spend the most time around him while he was working, and so it wasn't at all difficult to talk while he was a bit busy.  "I was last week, but I had too many shifts so far this week.  Might stop up there tomorrow," he told her simply, referring to the Guild.  He knew what she was talking about.  She and his cousin both busted his ass incessantly about him keeping up with some sort of training, just in case.  He personally didn't think that he was in nearly as much danger as a hunter or someone, but he'd been told that he wasn't exactly a common breed of shifter, so he should be careful.  Unfortunately, Connor had been present for that and it had inspired his 'workouts'.  

He'd been 'slacking' a lot, actually.  Given Ash Leone's absence while he was in Midnight, Darren had picked up plenty of extra shifts to make up for the Triste, and so he'd had to give up some of that time at the Guildhouse.  Mars had been trying to keep him up with it since.  

As he wandered off here and there to tend to customers' demands for more shots and drinks - she saw a woman request 'scotch on rocks' and gave her a glance over, but nothing more. The woman didn't know it yet, but she was pregnant, and Mars had half a mind to ask her not to drink, but that kind of news would most certainly invite trouble, if not a few weird looks and a very irritated woman. So she let it slide, focusing instead on her own cosmo. Chewing on the curly lime rind - what was her thing with garnishes? - Mars surveyed the busy crowd once more, marveling at the establishment that Ash Leone had managed to transform into a rather busy thoroughfare for both regulars and newcomers.

Darren's reply snapped her back to sharp attention, however, and she shifted her position, crossing her other leg over, pleased that the black denim yielded. She didn't particularly fancy facing any sort of combat or trouble in stubborn, cardboard-like jeans, and this evening had turned out for the better, assuaging her usual paranoia. The girl liked to be prepared. She came with Plans A, B, and usually C.

"Tomorrow sounds good. You can take it easy all you want on me, on account of this thing," she gestured subtely to her injured arm, "But don't expect me to cut you any slack. A little bird told me that you've been picking up extra shifts lately."

That little bird had actually been Dave, phoning into her one night when Darren had requested him to inform Mars of his late shift, and Mars (though she didn't show it) had paid careful attention to his work. It seemed as though he had put in two-thirds more time in the past week. Apart from work and academics, that could only mean that he had been taking it easy at training.