Gift of Song [TAG Fairfax]

[John Valentine]

Just because Nikos had made life so much easier for him, and made it unnecessary for him to stand on a corner and play his saxophone, didn't mean he didn't WANT to occasionally.  He liked it, liked seeing the appreciation on peoples' faces.  He hadn't exactly expected that of himself, since he wasn't a huge fan of people in general, but he'd found he somewhat missed it.  It felt so lonely sometimes, being that 'caged bird', even if it was safe. 

That was exactly why he was out and about alone, playing his instrument in the park just like he would have before Nikos, just because he could.  He wanted the fresh air, the mingling, all of it, even if it sometimes scared him.  It had been quite some time since he'd had a 'scare' regarding his mother or a hunter, and so, perhaps he was feeling a bit daring.  Someone would no doubt remind him as to why he usually hid, but he was fine for the moment.

He had his case opened for any tips he might get, and his saxophone seemed like only an object, just an instrument before he actually touched it to his lips and played.  Then, it was obvious that John, that Edward, wasn't just a musician.  He was an artist, and he was a swan.  Music was his gift.

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax relaxed on a bench, smiling appreciatively around at the scenery, grateful that he could be out enjoying it without worrying about his own breath obscuring the view. Central Park was fast becoming one of his favourite spots in the city, and the weather had been passably warm enough for the past several days that he could frequent its paths and benches and infamous landmarks comfortably.

Other city-dwellers were taking advantage of the warm spell, it seemed, and as today was the warmest yet, the park was considerably crowded. Fax didn't mind. He saw this as a convenient opportunity to explore his newfound senses...assuming he could tap into them.

And he was having difficulty. It was too soon for him to seriously consider himself an "elavie", or whatever the deuce it was that Mr. Leone had termed it. It wasn't that he didn't believe it. He had to believe it, after what he'd seen (and, apparently, experienced). But the fact of the matter was that he had yet to shift for the first time, and until that came about (and then some, likely), he was entirely ignorant of how to willfully access his "feline side". Something had happened that first night at the Hollow, sure, but everything that had happened that night was rather enveloped in a confused, muddled fog.

So Fairfax sat there on his bench, feeling like a complete fool as he hopefully sniffed at the air each time a person passed before him. He wasn't noticing a thing, didn't feel a bit different...

And then he heard a saxophone. He perked up, glancing over his shoulder to locate the origin of the music. The player was terribly good! After a moment he spotted a small cluster of people standing to the side of one of the many statues littering the park, and beneath the statue was the musician. This city does not have a good track record for aspiring musicians, Fax thought cynically to himself, standing and brushing himself off. But then, I suppose I knew that, coming here...

He headed across the lawn and stood with the crowd as the man played (breathed, lived) his instrument. Once he'd finished the number, there was a polite smattering of applause and the majority of the crowd wandered away, murmuring about the nice music. Fax, on the other hand, fished out his wallet and drew out a few dollars to drop in the case. Never hurt to help a fellow artist, especially one who was so clearly gifted! He smiled pleasantly at the saxophonist; the common ground of music was enough for him to be bolder than usual.

"Don't suppose you know Miss Saigon?" he put forth amiably.

[John Valentine]

John didn't take any special notice of the young man until he threw a few dollars in his case, and then it was somewhat more pressing for him to pay attention.  Naturally, that was because he was a paranoid mess, and anyone throwing more than a dollar in his case was someone he felt the need to focus on.  The kid didn't LOOK like the sort his mother would have hired, but he'd been wrong before.  Was he wrong?

Maybe, but what was this?  Miss Saigon?  He had to wonder if the kid thought he was being funny, considering the song 'Solo Saxophone' and the fact that it didn't have any saxophone in it, but John knew of another that would fit the criteria. 

"I know it better for piano," he said simply, but he didn't refuse. Nodding and making eye contact, which he didn't break until well into the song, he started playing.

It certainly wasn't his favorite, but to each his own.  At least it didn't have any cheesy implications about being captured or anything of the like.  If this kid had wanted a sax rendition of Duran Duran's Hungry Like the Wolf, he would have been worried.  As it was, he was merely cautious.  Paranoid, as always.

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax was thrilled when the saxophonist launched into "The Dance", and instinctively grinned. Miss Saigon certainly was an enjoyable show...not as masterful as Les Mis, no, but it had a few lovely tunes and this, he felt, was one of them.

Before the player got too far, Fax began to hum the piano accompaniment. The solo sound was nice, but it felt a bit incomplete. Suddenly inspired, he switched from humming to vocalizing --not too loudly-- and mimed placing his hands on an invisible keyboard, "playing" along. He knew he must have looked and sounded like an arse, but for once, he really didn't mind: this was music. When it came to music, most anything could be excused. As long as the other man didn't stop playing, he would continue without embarrassment.

He was just taking a new breath...when he smelled something. It was so startling that he stopped singing completely and dropped his hands, glancing around perplexedly. It was distinct. He'd never smelt anything like it before, that is, he'd never SMELT like this before, so it didn't take him long to realize that this was what he'd been trying to do the entire time he'd spent in Central Park. He was Smelling. It was SO very different from smelling something as a human. The thing was, he had no idea what to make of it, or how to trace it to a source.

But blimey, he could go for some chicken...

[John Valentine]

John caught a peek of Fairfax singing and playing the air keyboard, not to mention hearing him singing, but he didn't halt.  What did he care if someone got a little too into the music?  The kid HAD requested this song, so let him enjoy it.  Maybe he'd drop a few more dollars in the case, and John could have some money that was all his.  He usually felt somewhat bad with Nikos always catching the bills. 

He actually didn't take much notice when Fairfax suddenly STOPPED, but even if he'd been watching, he probably wouldn't have thought much of it.  So the kid finally decided that he felt silly?  Okay.  Fine with John.  He wouldn't argue either way.  He was just enjoying the chance to play.

Of course, he probably would have LIKED to know that Fairfax was suddenly thinking something regarding chicken.  Really, chicken?  How rude!  Swan was so much more elegant, more regal, than a simple chicken. 

When the song wound itself down to its close, he finally stopped for a good breath and a glance at the one who'd requested the song.  Hopefully, he hadn't stopped his air keyboard because John had butchered it, though the swan naturally knew that he hadn't.  "How'd you like it?"

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax was so involved with trying to wrap his brain --and nose-- around this new Smell that he was taken by surprise when the music stopped, and there was the saxophonist, turning to him and asking him if he'd liked it.

Bugger. He'd missed the end. Still, he forced up a smile, trying to ignore this odd craving he was suddenly having for a turkey dinner. "Excellent!" he replied. "Gad, man, how long have you been playing? You're really quite good..."

In the meantime, he couldn't help continue pondering the source of the Smell inwardly. Felines had a rather superior sense of smell, did they not? Perhaps he was smelling something at a great distance...a vendor selling chicken, for instance. That would explain why he...

Oh! He'd had foie gras on a few occasions before, and THAT'S what this smelled suggested to him! "Duck!" he blurted aloud, triumphant, and then flushed mightily with embarrassment. Oh, God. That was one of the problems with being an introverted sort: he had a habit of talking to himself, and that occasionally resulted in uttering his thoughts without thinking, and not always in private. He covered his mouth belatedly, still red, too mortified to even apologize.

[John Valentine]

"Thank you.  I've been playing a very, very long time, but I appreciate the compliment," he responded politely, nodding, though Fairfax seemed rather distracted all of a sudden.  Most people may not have noticed, but John made it a point to take notice of little things.  What was going on with this boy?

"Are y--"  He didn't finish asking if Fax was okay before the kid blurted something about a duck, and John froze.  Duck?  What?  Why?  Did he know that John was a swan, and feel the need to berate him, or was he just insane?  Or, just as bad, was he just that inexperienced that he didn't know what a swan smelled like?  He couldn't be a human if that was the case, but what was he?  Something dangerous?  Time for John to leave, then.

"Um, excuse me?" he asked, just to keep the boy talking for the moment.  He was busily packing up his instrument and getting the money he'd made into his pocket.  Then, he was out of there, and away from the strange kid, who would hopefully not follow.

Yeah, right.

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax was still trying to get over his utter humiliation. He felt that trying to explain himself would mean digging himself into an even deeper hole: Sorry, sir, I thought I smelled foie gras?

He settled for apologizing profusely, finally finding his voice. "Sorry, sorry, mind was elsewhere, that ever happen to you?" he stammered, laughing nervously. Oh, grand. Now I sound like a blathering lunatic. He's even packing his things, likely he's keen on escaping 'this madman', he observed glumly. "I-I'm sorry if I startled you," he added hopelessly, half to himself, as he took a step back.

Curse it, he thought he'd found a friend. Lord knew he could use some in this unfriendly city. He sighed.

The sigh gave him a new whiff of THE SMELL, stronger than ever. A tingling sensation shot through Fax's body, akin to the feeling he experienced when he heard a piece he really enjoyed, or, for that matter, played. Wow, was the Smell doing that? He sniffed again, shamelessly relishing the mounting excitement this created, in his own world for a moment.

Hang on... He looked back at the saxophonist, discombobulated. What the...was the smell coming from him?

[John Valentine]

"Don't worry about it," he told the other guy smoothly, not wanting to make him think too much about it.  John just knew when to extract himself from a situation, and this was it.  He didn't want to stay here.  "I just realized that I was running later than I'd expected.  It wasn't you."

Well, that was a lie, but John was rather good at that.  He lied all the time to keep the attention off of him and keep information about him reaching unwelcome sources.  He could lie to some kid on the street.  And with the way Fax was looking at him, lying seemed like a VERY good idea.  Really, duck?

Wait.  This kid wasn't just staring at him.  He was sniffing. 

THAT WAS BAD. 

Shitshitshit, time to go.

"Thank you, but I must be going."  He picked up his case, and was taking off, hoping that this strange boy wouldn't follow him.  Just go away...  Naturally, he had no idea that just the smell of him was making Fax want to follow. 

[Kaylee Miller]

Hey, hey, wait, he was leaving! And there was no doubt about it, the Smell, the wonderful SMELL, was coming from him! "Hi, wait!" he called after the retreating musician, falling into step behind him, excitement intensifying the instant he started moving. He attributed it to his new theory, that he was perhaps smelling what the man had eaten. As wound up as he was becoming (not to mention gradually bereft of human consciousness), he didn't think much about what he was saying. "I don't suppose you've eaten foie gras recently?!"

Wouldn't THAT be something if he had? It really must have been recent, otherwise his sense of smell was incredibly keen: the Smell was overwhelming! He could almost taste it.

Fax had no idea how close he was to snapping.

[John Valentine]

Oh, no.  The kid was following.  NOW what the hell was John going to do?  He had to get rid of him somehow, but that wouldn't be very easy.  It was hard for a swan, of all things, to disappear in the city, and he wasn't likely to manage that on foot unless he could convince the kid to leave him alone.

"I said, I have an appointment to make.  I really don't have ti---"

Foie gras.

Duck.

FOOD.

John paled a little, glancing around nervously as he picked up his pace.  He was headed for Nikos' building, but that didn't mean he could make it.  It was enough of a walk that it might take him too long.  "No.  No, I haven't.  I'm a vegetarian," he answered.  Go away!  Fairfax had to be a shifter of some sort, like Lore was, John decided.  He really needed to stop running into the ones that wanted to eat him.

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax wasn't really hearing what the saxophonist was saying anymore. His own pulse was skyrocketing, his mind flitting away at dangerous speeds. As he continued following the other man --who was suddenly moving quite quickly, how exciting!-- there was more accompanying the Smell...now there was definitely Taste, and Sound (the sound he was hearing, a strange fluttering, was somehow tasty in itself), and a new sense that was unfamiliar to part of him, the part that was fast disappearing.

The strange fluttering was John's beating heart, skipping along madly. The new sense was telling Fairfax that the smell, the taste, the sound, the "man" in front of him-- all of it meant FOOD.

This revelation slammed into Fax just as the two of them were nipping across the street.

Fax did not stop when it happened. It came as naturally as if he'd been doing it for years, and he even surged forward swiftly, out of the illumination of the headlights of idling cars at the stoplight, while he shifted.

Food. Now.

[John Valentine]

Let it be known, before going any further, that there is little in life that John cared more for than his instrument.

Among those few things was his life.

The swan felt more than saw the 'human' behind him surge forward, and it was prey instinct that told him it wasn't a human anymore.  He whipped the sax case around so quickly that it was OBVIOUS that he wasn't human himself, and the instant it impacted, he released it and took off into the alley they were so near.  He had to get away!

But how?  Could he really get enough speed to shift and fly before the predator could get him?  He wasn't sure, but it was better than just running.  There was no way he could outright a cat that size, and he couldn't tell himself that he didn't reek of fear right then.  He was so not a warrior. 

[Kaylee Miller]

WHAM. Sax case to Fax face.

The cougar hit the ground gracelessly, stunned by the surprise strike. He'd been in mid-leap when the case had struck, which made the blow all the more jarring. What saved him from sustaining more damage than he did was the fact that John was in such a hurry to bolt: he'd let go of the case preemptively, not following through with his swing completely.

It was still a moment before Fairfax gathered himself up and took off down the alley after his prey, followed by startled shouts of "OH SHIT!" and "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" from innocent passerby back on the crosswalk.

[John Valentine]

If John hadn't been such a quiet person by nature, he might have screamed for help, especially when he heard those people yelling.  Of course, what were they going to do to stop a cougar from eating him?  Besides watch in horror, of course.  He was on his own, and staying out in the public eye was just limiting what he was ABLE to do, which was why he'd bolted down the alley.

That, and he was scared practically senseless.

Really, it didn't take much to get that panicked fear instinct going in him, which was something he hated, but had learned to live with.  You aren't born a swan just to rule the world.  Lots of things, he'd found, wanted to eat him, and there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it except try NOT to be eaten.  They didn't care if he was one of the few male swans alive.  That wouldn't be an argument this cougar cared about.  And now, he'd lost his sax case, so he didn't have anything to use against it the next time it leapt, unless he got fancy with his footwork.  He'd been a dancer once upon a time, and he was still a shifter, so perhaps he could dodge around a bit.  Considering how few his options were right then (since he knew he wouldn't be able to fly without getting pounced), he'd be willing to try it. 

While he searched for a fire escape.

He really didn't think a cougar could climb a metal fire escape, and there was one ahead.  He just had to survive long enough to get to it, and jump high enough when he did.  That settled it.  He had a plan.