Timestamp: 24 Ashan 717
Location: H 'n H
“By all things unholy,” Rose stood beyond the door with dropped jaw. “Wendell! Sugar?” She jumped forward and embraced them both. “You found him!” Rose looked at Sugar, confused.
“He found me,” the little song bird smiled. “I was taken to Ne’haer, and he rescued me,” Sugar divulged, offering the man a warm smile.
“It's great to see you, Rose,” he said, embracing the woman again.
Rose smacked his arm and drew back, watching his features with tear-filled eyes. “Don't scare me like that again! I thought you were dead!” She squeezed him tight.
“I'm still surprised sometimes that I managed to survive too.”
“Rose,” Sugar cooed. “Do you still have room for me, on the books? I know I've been gone a while.”
“Always, my darling, always.” Rose answered.
Wendell bit his lower lip. “I was hoping I might be able to return as well,” he admitted. “I need the gold.”
Rose stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, eyeing the man up and down. “How's the merchandise?” she inquired. “I don't much like the tattoo on your neck, but some girls dig that bad boy look I suppose. Go on, get your kit off and let mama have a look.”
Sugar smirked and gestured for Wendell to do as he was told. The man took a step back and crossed his arms to take the end of his shirt and whip it off. There was a scar above his left hip where he had been stabbed, but other than that, he was blemish free.
Rose pinched her chin lightly between finger and thumb. “You've lost weight.”
“A little,” he agreed, “but I know you'll feed me up.”
“Catch anything at sea?”
“I'm clean,” he assured her, “fit as a horse.”
Rose circled the man like a shark, as if waiting to tear a piece from him while he wasn't looking. He followed her with his eyes, or as much as he could, and remained where he was, hands going to his own hips. Rose looped her arms through the hooks of his own and ran her hands over his stomach and the front of his trousers. Wendell, prepared, had been entertaining himself with less than modest thoughts of a recent roll in the sheets with Sugar, and knew Rose had been left satisfied that he still had what it took to stand at attention on demand.
“If you can make the same kind of gold you used to pull for me, I'll take you on,” she agreed, moving to stand in front of him once more.
Relief made it easy to smile. “Great, when do I start?” he asked.
“Right now,” Rose threw a company shirt at him, a plain black, long sleeved piece with a v neck. “One hundred gold tonight or you don't come back tomorrow,” she warned.
Wendell scoffed and folded his arms. “One hundred? Easy,” he winked.
“Double or nothing,” she challenged.
“Now you've done it,” Sugar laughed.
“I better get to work then.” He pulled on the fresh shirt and went over to the bar to start pouring drinks, as he used to do.
“Where do you think you're going?” Rose asked. “The bar is privilege, you know that. You're on the floor tonight.”
“Aw, but Rose!”
“No buts,” she smirked. “You earn it.”
Wendell nodded. Floor work wasn't easy, not like the tips he got on bar, but he would make it work. “I'll get to it then.”
Location: H 'n H
“By all things unholy,” Rose stood beyond the door with dropped jaw. “Wendell! Sugar?” She jumped forward and embraced them both. “You found him!” Rose looked at Sugar, confused.
“He found me,” the little song bird smiled. “I was taken to Ne’haer, and he rescued me,” Sugar divulged, offering the man a warm smile.
“It's great to see you, Rose,” he said, embracing the woman again.
Rose smacked his arm and drew back, watching his features with tear-filled eyes. “Don't scare me like that again! I thought you were dead!” She squeezed him tight.
“I'm still surprised sometimes that I managed to survive too.”
“Rose,” Sugar cooed. “Do you still have room for me, on the books? I know I've been gone a while.”
“Always, my darling, always.” Rose answered.
Wendell bit his lower lip. “I was hoping I might be able to return as well,” he admitted. “I need the gold.”
Rose stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, eyeing the man up and down. “How's the merchandise?” she inquired. “I don't much like the tattoo on your neck, but some girls dig that bad boy look I suppose. Go on, get your kit off and let mama have a look.”
Sugar smirked and gestured for Wendell to do as he was told. The man took a step back and crossed his arms to take the end of his shirt and whip it off. There was a scar above his left hip where he had been stabbed, but other than that, he was blemish free.
Rose pinched her chin lightly between finger and thumb. “You've lost weight.”
“A little,” he agreed, “but I know you'll feed me up.”
“Catch anything at sea?”
“I'm clean,” he assured her, “fit as a horse.”
Rose circled the man like a shark, as if waiting to tear a piece from him while he wasn't looking. He followed her with his eyes, or as much as he could, and remained where he was, hands going to his own hips. Rose looped her arms through the hooks of his own and ran her hands over his stomach and the front of his trousers. Wendell, prepared, had been entertaining himself with less than modest thoughts of a recent roll in the sheets with Sugar, and knew Rose had been left satisfied that he still had what it took to stand at attention on demand.
“If you can make the same kind of gold you used to pull for me, I'll take you on,” she agreed, moving to stand in front of him once more.
Relief made it easy to smile. “Great, when do I start?” he asked.
“Right now,” Rose threw a company shirt at him, a plain black, long sleeved piece with a v neck. “One hundred gold tonight or you don't come back tomorrow,” she warned.
Wendell scoffed and folded his arms. “One hundred? Easy,” he winked.
“Double or nothing,” she challenged.
“Now you've done it,” Sugar laughed.
“I better get to work then.” He pulled on the fresh shirt and went over to the bar to start pouring drinks, as he used to do.
“Where do you think you're going?” Rose asked. “The bar is privilege, you know that. You're on the floor tonight.”
“Aw, but Rose!”
“No buts,” she smirked. “You earn it.”
Wendell nodded. Floor work wasn't easy, not like the tips he got on bar, but he would make it work. “I'll get to it then.”
