The short walk from the Royal Castle to Restaurant Row was completed in near silence, bar the distant rush of the city’s waterfalls and the idle chatter of the nobles. Luke still had no idea if he even had a job anymore, and the uncertainty was effectively thwarting his attempts to strike up a conversation. He lagged behind Fleur a couple of paces or so, hands in his pockets and a perpetual scowl darkening his features.

She still hadn’t explained shit, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. For now, at least. After her little private chat with Celestia, she’d barely even spoken to him, other than to ask if he liked spicy food. In all honesty, he hated the silence.

“We’re supposed to be back at work in like, five minutes,” he muttered, glancing at a nearby clocktower.

One of Fleur’s ears flicked, her beautiful blue eyes flashing to the clock. “Work can wait. I… ‘ave things to discuss with you,” she said, her voice softer than usual.

Great. She was probably going to fire his ass. Well, it was good while it lasted. He was going to miss flying an airship. It was by far the coolest thing he’d ever done… “You’re gonna fire me, aren’t you?”

Fuck. The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Fleur stopped in her tracks, her head whipping back so fast her mane flew all over the place for a second. Her face was a picture of utter bewilderment. “What? … What gave you zat idea?” she quickly shot back at him, the words flying from her muzzle so fast he barely caught them.

The interrogative, slightly blue tinted stare he got from her was enough to make him wholly regret even opening his mouth. “I, uh… I just thought with you going to talk to Celestia-”

“I ‘ave no plans to fire you, Luke,” she firmly stated, her tail flicking in agitation. It almost sounded as though she was trying to reassure herself, more than anyone else. “But I do believe I owe you an explanation for some of my recent… be’aviours, toward you.”

“Oh, really?” Luke muttered. About damn time. “Are we finally going to talk about what happened in the lift? Or the little singsong in the street?” he challenged. It was good to finally get the words off his chest, even if Fleur was looking more and more ashamed with each question. “Why do your eyes change colour? And what the hell is with the fangs? Are they real?”

“Yes, zey are real,” Fleur sighed, “I shall explain inside. We do not want to be over’eard.”

They rounded a corner into an alcove between two large high-class restaurants. A smaller establishment was nestled between the two, its styling clearly more ethnic in comparison. A large sign depicting a bull elephant holding a wooden ladle in its trunk was fixed above an empty plaque over the doorway, which sat between two large golden framed bay windows. The place had a decidedly ‘Indian food’ vibe to it, backed up by something that smelled suspiciously similar to the south-Asian cuisine.

The whole building looked blatantly out of place in the Equinox district, especially on a street like Restaurant Row. Most of the “Restaurants” here only sold the same crappy, pretentious food, that was often not much more than a few mouthfuls of overpriced tofu.

“Huh. I’ve never noticed this place before,” Luke pondered aloud. He’d thought he knew of every small business in this city, having tried to get a job at just about all of them. This one seemed to have slipped under the radar.

“Zis eez ze Tasty Treat. A friend of mine works here,” Fleur said, the door swinging open in her telekinesis.

The interior followed more or less the same theme as the exterior, utilising warm colours for the walls and the ceiling drapes. Small round wooden tables and stools with satin cushions on them gave the place a homey feel, something that was rare in the city of Canterlot. A small number of booths lined the rear corner, next to a minibar which sat just in front of the bull elephant logo fixed to the back wall.

“Could we have a private booth, if it eez not too much trouble, ma chere?” Fleur asked, her tone slightly hushed.

Luke pulled his eyes away from examining the elaborate gold stitching of the ceiling drapes, his gaze landing on the pretty mare Fleur had spoken to. It was fairly obvious, even to him, that this pony perhaps originated from a different part of Equador. Her muzzle was a different shape, as were her eyes. She wore a gold headband behind her horn, and her ears were adorned with blue-topaz studded earrings.

“A booth again?” the pony asked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, at least you brought company this time,” she jibed, flashing Luke a grin that showed off a set of pearly white teeth. Her accent was way too similar to Indian to ignore, prompting a bout of internal facepalming.

Fleur huffed, blowing a few strands of mane from her face and levelling the mare with a mock glare. “Is zis ‘ow you treat all of your customers?”

“Only our disgruntled investors,” she fired back, quick as a whip, before turning to Luke. “I’m Saffron Masala, seeing as Little-Miss-Live-Forever hasn’t bothered to introduce us.”

“I was getting to zat,” Fleur interjected, already trotting to the corner booth.

“Luke,” Luke replied, thoughtlessly holding out a hand like a fucking moron.

Saffron’s lack of hands was of no concern to her, it seemed, as she just nuzzled his palm instead. Her fur was almost as soft as Fleur’s. Almost. “Well, Luke, why don’t you go and sit down with your marefriend and I’ll get the two of you a couple of menus?”

Luke nodded, and even took two whole steps toward the booth before his brain finally caught up with what she’d said. “Woah, woah, wait a minute!” he shot at the exotic mare, but she’d already disappeared like a fart in the wind. He was left holding up an index finger to an empty room, bar the small number of customers enjoying their lunch in between stealing not-so-subtle glances at him.

“She eez messing with you, Luc. Come and sit down,” Fleur called from the booth. She even said it with a straight face. Hell, she was smiling for the first time in hours, in fact.

Luke grit his teeth, already beginning to feel his stupid face reddening. Like nearly everything in Equestria, the table was hopelessly too low for any human that wasn’t accustomed to traditional Japanese dining furniture. As a result, his shin had a thorough disagreement with its edge as he shuffled his lanky frame into the booth.

“Ow,” he gasped, eyes watering through either pain or embarrassment. He wasn’t even sure which anymore.

Eventually managing to sit down on the small bench, Luke crossed his legs. It was just about the only way he could sit, as there was practically no room beneath the table. This place really wasn’t designed with humans in mind.

“Are you okay, mon cher?” Fleur asked. She only moved an inch or two closer, but that was more than enough to close the gap.

“M’fine,” Luke muttered, suddenly mindful of the proximity. Hell, her cutie mark was near enough pressed to the side of his leg. Talk about close quarters. The booth wasn’t large, not by any means, but there was a whole other bench on the adjacent wall she could utilise if she wanted. And her scent… holy hell… Luke had no idea what perfume she was wearing, but it was making him want to cuddle her like a fucking waifu pillow.

Such desires were wholly inappropriate for an employee to have towards his boss… His devastatingly pretty, immortal equine boss… Fuck. The silence between them had officially transitioned to the “awkward” phase. He had to say something. Anything.

“I can’t believe she said you were my… my-” Oh, god—not that!

Thankfully, Fleur just smiled, and Luke found the effect was even more pronounced up close. He suddenly had to stamp on the urge to put an arm around her. "Why do you think I usually come ‘ere alone?"

Saffron Masala—Master Troll-Horse Extraordinaire—sidled up to the booth flashing those pearly whites again in a triumphant smile. “Here are your menus, my dears!”

Luke took one with a disapproving glance, but didn’t say anything other than “thanks.”

Once she had disappeared again, Fleur closed the curtain over the booth entrance with her magic, blocking out the rest of the restaurant. Another flash of her horn, and the idle conversation of the other patrons, the clatter of pots and pans and sizzle of cooking food from the kitchen, all of it was snuffed out so quickly Luke thought his eardrums had burst.

“Woah…” he muttered, his voice completely devoid of reverb. It was if he’d stepped into the most overdesigned recording studio ever conceived. “This is freaky.”

“I cannot risk anypony overhearing us, Luc,” Fleur began, her impeccable diction even more pronounced in the deathly silence. She placed a hoof in his hand. His fingers reacted instinctively; wrapping around her fetlock before he’d even considered if such an action was a good idea or not. “What I am about to tell you ‘as been a state secret for over three thousand years.”

A state secret? Was he going to be getting a visit from the pony feds if he listened to her explanation? And three thousand years… Was that how old she was? The questions were already piling up, yet she’d barely even told him anything yet.

“You ‘ave already figured out zat I am not a normal pony. I am immortal, but not an alicorn, and sometimes I ‘ave fangs, and luminous eyes. Not many ponies know about zose last two, but you alone ‘ave have seen more of zose traits than all of the ponies I ‘ave met in the last century combined. Zis, and only zis, eez why we are ‘aving zis conversation right now.”

A pause, during which Fleur slowly closed her eyes. She seemed to be steeling herself. “I am both possessed by, and a part of an ancient race of water demons known as sirens,” Fleur whispered, her eyes, unmistakably lilac at the present moment, searching his face for a reaction.

All Luke could do was blink stupidly a couple of times. It sounded like she was trying to tell him she was possessed by a fucking demon. Flashbacks of the movie The Exorcist played over in his mind. Was she going to start speaking in a demon voice and pissing everywhere?

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” he said, half wondering if she was just pulling his leg. He kind of hoped she was, actually. “You’re… possessed?”

“In laymare’s terms—yes. She and I are like two ‘alves of an ‘ole. Normally she eez content to stay in the confines of my mind, but she eez drawn to you for some reason, I… I do not know why. She… She likes you a lot,” Fleur finished, her ears flattening against her mane, her eyes breaking contact. An unmistakable blush formed on her cheeks as soon as she got the words out, and Luke got the impression it had taken her a fair bit of courage to admit it.

“She… likes me?” Luke repeated. He was starting to sound like a parrot, but the things she was saying were flying so far out of left field that he couldn’t help it.

Fleur nodded, and Luke didn’t miss her eyes over analyzing his reaction again. “Sometimes, she can take control. Zat eez when ze fangs come out, and my eyes glow.”

“Okay…” Luke trailed off, placing his free palm flat on the table. Coolness invaded his skin. The amount of sweat that accumulated on it in the five minutes or so they’d been talking was quite alarming. “What about the singing? Why did it make me feel like…” he began, but ended up stopping himself. Why did it make me feel like I had just tripped and fell in love with you? He finished in his head. That was probably the best way to describe how it had felt, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say it out loud.

Fleur’s ears flattened even further, pressing into her silky mane. Luke felt the tiniest little tremor through the fetlock still grasped in his hand. Her eyes were as huge as grapefruits, and she gave him the same look she had before she had teleported in the royal dining hall. “There eez a reason my true race eez a state secret, mon cher. Sirens ‘ave a bad reputation for two reasons. The first eez because of what we must do to survive,” she explained, her voice gaining an uncharacteristic tremor to it that Luke didn’t recognise. He gave her fetlock a little squeeze without any thought.

“Sirens depend on the attention of others. If we do not feed upon zem, we grow weak, and fade away to something unrecognisable.” She gave a shudder, her ears flicking for a second. “Abstinence will not kill us, but we become shadows of our former selves. Of course, many ponies interpret our need of attention as vanity, which eez why we ‘ide our true identities. What you saw earlier was a breakdown of control on my part.”

“So… You were… feeding on me?” Luke began, unsure of whether or not he should feel violated somehow. It certainly shed some light on the sudden infatuation… Then again, blaming his whole underlying attraction to Fleur on some freaky ‘siren’ effect seemed kind of cheap. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying just sitting close to her, talking to her, and this ‘siren’ was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

Fleur slowly nodded. Her ears were still flat, eyes still scanning his face. It was like she expected him to be mad, or something. “Are there, like… any negative effects to this ‘feeding’?”

“Non, but… some ponies have labelled it ‘brainwashing’ in the past. It eez not, but misinformation—especially negative misinformation—spreads like wildfire in Equestria,” she added, subconsciously massaging his palm with her fetlock.

“Ze second reason sirens ‘ave a bad reputation eez because of an event zat ‘appened a little over a thousand years ago. As you ‘ave rightly guessed, sirens use zeir voice to placate zeir prey in order to feed. Well, back in ze age of ze Pillars, three sirens that ‘ad an un’ealthy thirst for power took zis ability one step further, and attempted to enslave ze ponies of Equestria. Zey even tried to recruit other sirens in zeir betrayal, myself included. I, of course, never strayed from Celestia, but I believe zey managed to rally a small number of followers before zey were ultimately banished by ze Pillars. Ever since zen, ze ponies of Equestria ‘ave ‘ad an in’erited distrust of sirens.”

Luke had thought the prejudice the nobles had shown themselves capable of was bad, but he quickly came to realise it probably paled in comparison to the shit Fleur had probably dealt with over the years… all one thousand-plus of them… hell, maybe even more than that. “What are these ‘Pillars’?”

Fleur's face took on a slightly forlorn look, and she closed her eyes, dipping her muzzle somewhat. After a moment of two, she gave Luke a bittersweet smile. “Ze Pillars of Equestria were a group of remarkable ponies zat lived all zose years ago. Zey protected Equestria in times of need, proving themselves time and time again,” she added, her voice a lot quieter than usual. Luke was already wishing he’d kept his stupid mouth shut.

“Forgive me. One of zem was ze best friend I ever ‘ad. She was the sweetest pegasus you would ever meet, and a fiercely loyal friend. Above all else, she gave ponies ‘ope, ‘ope for a brighter future. I… I ‘ave not thought of ‘er in quite some time,” she trailed off.

“Fleur, forget I said anything, really,” Luke muttered, gently squeezing her fetlock. He felt like an idiot for asking, even though he couldn’t have known. Being immortal probably got old real fast after watching a few dozen friends die.

The sapphire gem in her collar chose that moment to softly illuminate. Luke threw it a glance, but paid it no mind… for a few seconds, that is. After about ten, the impulse to reach out and touch it grew too powerful to ignore. The fact that he was supposedly fearful of it never even crossed his mind. He caved, his hand lifting from the cool wood of the desk, tracked by violet eyes as it made its way closer and closer to the titanium spiked collar. A faint afterthought pointed out that this was probably a stupid idea and could potentially result in a pair of fangs being embedded into his flesh, but Luke barely heard it over the soothing sound of waves that had inexplicably filled his mind as he stared into the gem. He didn’t even question the auditory hallucination, if that’s even what it was. Likewise, Fleur appeared to be a passenger in her own body. Whilst her eyes were violet, she made no move to stop him, instead watching with idle curiosity.

After a perceived age, his fingers made contact with the sapphire. It was cold. Like, ice cold. A sharp intake of breath cut through the silence like a knife, and Luke’s gaze flicked up to witness Fleur’s eyes rolling up toward her horn, which had began to glow of its own accord.

The aura, though still pink, managed to knock some sense back into Luke. He was being a fucking idiot messing around with a demon. It was a wonder she was letting him get away with it. He quickly broke the contact, squeezing his damn-near frozen fingertips in attempt to chase away the numbness.

It took a moment or two for Fleur to regain her composure, during which Luke began to regret touching her. What if that gem was a huge no-go area? He’d never seen her not wearing it, so it was obviously very important to her. Christ, he was a fucking moron. He may well have just casually laid his sweaty fingers all over something that was precious to her. Yeah, she hadn’t stopped him, but maybe she was just too polite to say?

Fleur’s eyes were fixed to Luke as though he was the most interesting thing in the world to her. “Not a soul ‘as touched my sapphire in over seventy three years,” she said, a look of mild bewilderment on her face.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Luke began, once again cursing his stupid curiosity.

Fleur didn’t even appear to be listening to him. “The last being to do so was a warlock by the name of Gronag…”

Luke blinked. “A warlock? Wait… those are a thing here?”

“... She killed ‘im for ‘is boldness.”

Luke opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. Did she just say that this “siren” killed what was presumably a sapient being? Or were warlocks just like animals in Equestria? Either way, a sense of dread was slowly beginning to build up in Luke’s chest. Was Fleur a psychopath? Because it was sure as hell starting to look that way.

Fleur smiled, chasing away some of the panic. “Luc… You ‘ave nothing to fear from ‘er,” she reassured. Fuck. Was it that obvious he was a little freaked out?

“What? I’m not scared,” he blurted out, his free palm now back on the desk. It was perhaps even sweatier than before at this point… “I just… you… she killed… Wait, are you winding me up?” he stuttered, half hoping this was some ill-conceived joke.

Fleur’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “I am not proud of what ‘append, mon cher. I fear that if Celestia ‘ad not stepped in to smooth things over, I would ‘ave been driven out of ze city for good,” she sighed, adjusting her collar with a forehoof. “Every siren ‘as a collar or a chain about ‘er neck, with a gemstone attached to it. Zey can take the form of either a ruby, an emerald, or a sapphire, like my own, but zey hold a momentous power within zem in comparison to a common Equestrian gemstone. A siren cannot feed without ‘er gem, so she will not take it very lightly when others interfere with it.”

A deathly chill travelled the length of Luke’s spine. There it was: proof that he had pretty much been unknowingly prodding a dangerous beast with a stick.

Fleur’s grin returned, along with a short snippet of musical laughter. “Luc, you look like you ‘ave just seen a ghost,” she chuckled, gently running her fuzzy fetlock over his hand. “Think of it like zis: if she ‘ad taken offence to it, you would ‘ave ‘ad no idea.”

Luke grimaced. “Because I’d be dead?”

Instead of answering, Fleur leaned in close, brushing the soft hairs of her cheek against his. The heavenly scent of her mane permeated his nostrils. Strawberries and cream. He was too mesmerised by her forwardness to even consider how ridiculous that was. She was sweet enough without clichéd hair products, that was for sure.

“She could never ‘urt you,” Fleur whispered, and Luke felt a soft forehoof brush over his chest. “Now, let us order. I’m sure Saffron will be growing tired of waiting,” she happily chirped, her horn flaring with the pink aura and levitating a menu in front of them.

Luke blinked, his own menu lay on the desk, forgotten. Maybe Fleur was aware of what she was doing, maybe not, but she was practically sitting in his lap… Not that he minded, of course… He should mind, though. She was his boss, and a unicorn, not to mention she was harbouring a fucking she-demon inside of her.

POP.

Sound burst back into life, bringing with it the background conversation of ponies having their lunch, the clatter of cutlery on pottery, and the occasional bang of a pot or pan from the kitchen, all of which now seemed about five times louder seeing as they had been absent for the past however long… Luke wasn’t even sure how long he and Fleur had talked.

“Luc?”

Oh… she asked a question. “Yes, my dear?” He grinned, perhaps emphasising the last two words.

Fleur raised an eyebrow. “Pensez-vous que vous êtes drôle, mon amour?”

Luke mimicked her, raising one of his own eyebrows. He’d picked up a little Prench from her, but not that much. “Umm… What?”

“I said, ‘ave you decided what to order, no?” she asked, flashing those pearly whites.

Luke frowned. “No you didn’t.”

Fleur smiled. “You accuse moi of dishonesty?”

The curtain glowed for a second, before sweeping back to reveal Saffron Masala, who had an even larger grin on her face than usual. “Have you two made up your minds, then?”

“I’ll have the usual, please, mon amie,” Fleur replied.

Luke studied her face, still half-trying to figure out what she had said in Prench. She usually said ‘mon ami’ or ‘mon cher.’ ‘Mon amour’ was a new one, and he wasn’t sure what it meant. He hadn’t heard her use it when talking to anyone else, that much was certain.

“The house special soup, of course. And for your strapping young stallion?” Saffron prompted.

Luke rolled his eyes. “The same, if you don’t mind.”

Saffron gave a nod, bowing out with a grin.

The food arrived surprisingly quick, Luke putting it down to Fleur being a high profile regular of the restaurant. Saffron Masala was never too far away, it seemed, always popping over and offering to refill the wine glasses and bread plate, or otherwise finding some excuse to linger. The soup was delicious, and not quite as spicy as he was expecting, which was a bonus. He’d rather not have the shits at work… Oh, shit… work. Luke wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fly the ship after three glasses of wine.

His boss was a bad influence. She had drank four glasses.

Once the empty bowls and glasses had been taken away, Luke requested the bill from Saffron, if only to get her to go away and stop cracking jokes about the ‘date’ they were having. It wasn’t a date, it was just lunch.

“So, you like ze food here, no?” Fleur asked, her lithe frame still practically pressed against his side.

“Yeah. The food, the company. It’s all good,” Luke chuckled, before realising what he’d said. That had been a flirt, sort of. With his boss… That third glass of wine was really proving to be a mistake.

Fleur didn’t seem to mind. Hell, he wasn’t sure if she even noticed. “I know, right? Zesty Gourmand can go and shove ‘er three hooves up ‘er tailhole! Zis place does not need zem,” she chuckled, loud enough to draw the attention of some of the other patrons. They glanced through into the booth, eyes peeled and ears stood to attention.

“You’re damn right we don’t need them,” Saffron piled on, seemingly appearing from thin air once again. The waitress set down a small tray with a piece of parchment and a couple of mints on it, before flashing a smile and disappearing again.

Luke glanced at the bill. Just under seventy bits. Not bad for two mains, a side, and a decent sized bottle of wine. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the coin pouch he always carried around. Wallets weren’t a thing in Equestria—neither were credit cards, for that matter. It taken quite a while to get used to this method of carrying cash.

It was only after he’d fished out four twenty-bit coins that he noticed Fleur had went deadly silent.

“Luc… What are you doing?” she asked, in a tone that suggested he’d just pulled an AR-15 out of his trousers.

“Paying the bill. What else?”

“Put zat away!” she whisper shouted, glancing at the other ponies in the restaurant. They had long since lost interest, but Fleur had apparently become super self-conscious all of a sudden.

“I get that you own shares in this place, but I’m pretty sure we still have to pay,” he chuckled, dropping the coins onto the parchment.

“Ze newspapers will tear me a new tailhole if they find out I let a stallion pay a bill!”

Luke blinked, shooting her an incredulous look. “That’s ridiculous, besides—I’m not a stallion,” he quipped. These ponies and their matriarchal tendencies, man.

Fleur’s horn flared, the deposited coins and the coin pouch disappearing with a flash. Luke felt them instantly rematerialise in his pocket. He sighed. “Fleur, come on-”

“I am ze third oldest pony in this city, and zat damn well earns me ze right to be old fashioned. An honourable mare never allows a stallion to hoof ze bill,” she harrumphed, turning up her muzzle like the true noblemare she was. Another flash of her horn left a shiny one hundred bit coin sitting on the parchment instead.

“Way to one up me,” Luke muttered.

Fleur shook her head, her beautiful pink locks falling about her face. “Ugh… You don’t know Saffron like I do. I would never ‘ear ze end of it if I did not overtip,” she sighed.

“It’s funny you should mention the papers, though. Y’know they’re already ‘tearing you a new tailhole’ just for hiring me, right?”

Fleur, who had been halfway through finishing off her fifth glass of wine, almost did a spit take. “You know about ze article?” she squeaked, after swallowing so fast her cheeks turned a rosy colour. “‘Ow did you find out?”

“Luna left a copy of the Herald on the dining table in the Castle.”

Fleur let slip a long, drawn out sigh. “She ‘ates zat paper, as does Celestia. Zey only read it to check if zose parasitic ‘journalists’ have written anything about zem. If Celestia ‘ad not sent a copy to me zis morning, I would not ‘ave even known myself that zey ‘ad mentioned you.” A soft white hoof landed on his chest again. “Luc, please do not take anything zey say to ‘eart. Ponies like Top 'At are ze scourge of ze nobility.”

Luke snorted. “You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve been itching to lay a beat down on ol’ Turd-face since I arrived in Canterlot.”

The corners of Fleur’s mouth twitched, but only for a second. “Now now, it eez not proper be’aviour for stallions to fight. It eez better to leave any disagreements for ze mares to deal with.”

Another snort. “You really are old fashioned,” Luke chuckled, just as a cuckoo clock on the wall announced it was two o’ clock. “Anyway, we’re now over an hour late… Why are you still sitting in a restaurant with the hired help?”

Fleur scoffed somewhat, shifting a little against his side. Once again, Luke had to bat down the urge to put an arm around her… he really had to watch that. “Luc, you are ‘ardly just ze ‘ired help. You are ze First Officer of Le Tesson, and… dare I say, my friend?”

She smiled, her tongue running over her teeth again and her eyes glimmering like huge violet supernovas. Luke cleared his throat. Damn, those eyes. She really knew how to turn on that pretty pony charm. “Oh, I don’t know about all that. Wouldn’t want to get a reputation for brown nosing the boss now, would I?” he teased, cracking a grin.

That earned him a nicker and a small hip check. “Ugh… Typical stallion. Come, mon cher, Photo Finish will ‘ave my ‘ead impaled on a spork if we turn up much later zan zis.” With that, Fleur rose up from the bench, leaving a noticeable emptiness at Luke’s side. Her long legs gracefully navigated around the table with ease. You certainly wouldn’t believe she’d just drank nearly half a bottle of wine.

Luke got up himself, with quite a bit less finesse than Fleur had. It was hard to ignore the playful flicking of her tail, which was near enough at eye height as he clambered out of the booth. She was probably doing it on purpose. Well, either her, or the she-demon riding shotgun in her mind that had apparently taken a liking to him.

Either way, that shit was distracting.

I'm back from holiday (vacation) now, so updates should resume a better schedule once more.

As always, let me know of any typos/editing errors in the comments below.