He chuckled, mirthsome in it's tone, as she spoke about understanding his worsts. Even more so as she asked about him for dessert, a smirk dancing it's way back across his features as those sparkles slowly started to return. He nodded in answer to -that- question, he was certainly putting himself on the menu for Isabeaux Duquette, the Duchess of Diamonds as one of those playbills had mentioned. And then her real question. That was a tough one. But, he knew what he needed to ask now...

"Do you believe in magic, like that in a young girl's heart? The kind that can set you free?" Some would think he spoke about the magic of love, but no... J. Thomas O'Malley was speaking if true, honest to God, Magic. The kind you used a wand for, the kind that set houses and people ablaze, or simply started a campfire. The kind that transmuted rags to riches... The kind that charmed people into falling for you when you danced on stage, cast without even knowing it...

"So that's the one thing I really want to ask you, and it's also my question to you... So do you believe in magic, Isabeaux Duquette?"

Isabeaux blinked, a little unsure how she wished to answer. She'd giggled when he nodded, but now her giggle transited to something uncomfortable and awkward. It took her a minute to formulate an articulate answer as the wheels in her head spun in endless circles. 

Of course... he HAD to have something wrong with him right? He couldn't be as perfect as she'd hoped. But... how bad was it really? People believed in a benevolent creator that put innocent souls in a world of suffering. People believed that life just HAPPENED to spring up out of the blue in a sea of primordial happenstance and random evolution. So... how much MORE crazy was it to belive that magic... real magic... existed? In a way, she thought... the more she thought... it almost made more sense for that miraculous power to BE in the hands of regular mortal men. At least THAT story accounted for the tragedies and attrocities of life... how the rich stayed rich, and the underdogs turned mafia kings. 

Slowly, Beau realized how long she'd been silent and, afraid to offend him, she waded into the flood of confusion that had settled over her thoughts. "Of a kind... I suppose. I've never really considered it. But... it's less insane than some beliefs, I suppose. It's a far easier pill to swallow than God, I would say. And, there is a certain magic inherent in life, to be sure. Though... beyond that, I'm not sure." 

She took a deep breath and decided to rip the bandaid off. It would either go well, or the cabaret would have one more name on it's watchlist. What was the worst that could happen? "I take it you do," she continue, "belive in magic? Belive that people can DO magic?? Is that what you're getting at?"

Thomas nodded, smiling. "Oh I do. I very -much- do. But it's more than believing..."

He grabbed his napkin and placed it on the table, then pulled one coin from his vest pocket... The vest she'd grabbed from the back that he'd put nothing in... The vest she should have known there were coins in... But there hadn't been. That was besides the point though, and he thought nothing of that. He placed the coin in the center of the napkin.

"One coin, right?" She nodded and he folded the four corners together and gave it a shake... The napkin bloated immediately and looked like a coin pouch (get your heads out of the gutter!) full and about to burst. He sat the napkin down and let it unfold, a mountain of coins spreading across the table.

"That's certainly not -one- coin... Anymore..."

He grinned, figuring she would have some explanation for it and waited.

Beau watched silently, her mind pulling apart his con at the seams... at lease as much as she could. Coins up the sleeve... trap compratment... there were a LOT of ways for this to go. She could explain them all, if she'd wanted. But she was growing tired with the charade. She like him. She'd liked him since he chose NOT to mark her on the street. And it was RARE for her to like anyone. So... either he was crazy or he was a liar... or he wasn't. And there was one quick and dirty way to find out. 

Taking a deep breath and chugged what was left of her glass of water. Drying it out with her napkin, she checked it METICULOUSLY before holding it up, away from the table. "Okay... fill my cup, magic boy." 

Her eyes glittered with the thrill of her challenge... a tinge of fear dancing in their depths. This was a moment of truth. He'd either come clean, prove himself NUTS... or he'd turn her whole world upside down. And honestly... she hoped for anything but nuts. 

Thomas blinked... "That one's a bit more tricky... Hold on."

He stood, spun around a few times like looking for something with his hands wiggling, then paused as he turned back to the table. He grabbed his water glass and quickly tilted it over in hers with a giant smirk gracing his lips...

"There you go. Full! Well, almost... Let me fix that..."

He reached behind himself and pulled a slender, wooden rod from his belt like one carried a knife hidden across their back and whispered a word, then tapped her glass and his...

Her glass filled to the brim with water and began to overflow... "OH! WAIT! NO NO NO!" he tapped hers again to stop it's flow, then tapped his just before it did the same.

"WHEW!" he sighed... "That could have been a big mess... Newt and Kat would have yelled at me, then we'd have to erase everyone's mem...ory..." He looked at Isabeaux.

"Please believe me, I don't recall ever having met you before, so I highly doubt your memory has ever been erased... At least by me. That's not really my thing. I like muggles knowing magic exists. It kind of... Makes them more, wonder-stricken and inspired!"

He smirked... It had to look bad... It had to look REAL bad. He was nuts. He was absolutely fucking nuts... But not a liar.

Beau rolled her eyes as he dumped his glass into hers, of course a street rat would find a way around.... 

She flinched as he reached into the small of his back, fully expecting a pistol, and blinked at him blankly when, instead, he produced... a stick?! This day was just getting stranger by the... Beau gasped and squeaked as water spilled over into her lap. Her blue eye flickered between his face and her glass before her head whipped around to check if anyone else had noticed. 

Thankfully, they hadn't. 

That happened. It really happened. Now she just had to decide how to handle it. 

Turning back to his smiling face, her brain worked overtime trying to wrap itself around what she'd just witnessed... and what it meant for her. She looked at him as if he were an alien... a beautiful alien... the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on, in fact. The air sizzled as that piercing indigo stare picked him apart, the world around them seeming to slow nearly to a complete stop as she struggled to unravel the meaning of it... of how it unquestionably and irrevocably changed her entire life. All the possible implications stretched out in her mind, like fraying strands of some thread-bare persian rug that disintegrated under the weight of eons. All the ways she could react and how they would decide her fate played out like embroidery thread on the underside of the universe. 

With a shake of her head, everything snapped back to normal reality as her thoughts caught up with themselves. Setting the glass on the table quietly, she nodded slowly. "I'm listening," was all she said in a calm and dediceded tone... the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of her mouth as she beheld him with all that 'wonder-stricken inspiration' he claimed to adore.

Thomas slipped the 'stick' back into it's holster on his belt and grinned wide; goofy wide. He sat his glass back on the table and took a seat. He'd already started to whisper something under his breath as his rear came in contact with his seat... With a wave of his hand, the water that had soaked into her dress beaded up and rolled off onto the floor as if her dress had been waxed before she wore it... She was dry again... Well, he couldn't speak for everywhere, but at least her dress was dry...

"Glad to hear you're listening now..." He looked around at all the people in the restaurant and loved how they hadn't noticed. The waiter approached and started to ask about refills then paused, noticing the full glasses but water on the floor.

"Ah, I apologize my dear friend, we seem to have made a mess. Could you please gather me something to clean it up with?" The waiter, slightly baffled, nodded and went to retrieve some towels.

Thomas chuckled and looked at Isabeaux. "We should get our dessert, tip him really well, then get out of here... However..."

He looked around again, then waved his hand... "Muffliato..."

His gaze fell back on to Isabeaux and he spoke very openly. "Magic is real, obviously... And not the sleight of hand, misdirection crap we did to each other earlier... Real magic, fireballs, creatures you can't see, charmed items, enchantments... Pretty much anything you can think of." He chuckled. "And don't worry, no one can really hear us unless they can counter my spell."

Thomas leaned back in his seat and smiled at Isabeaux. "And let's be honest, if they can, they're like me." He smirked. "Which means it doesn't matter," he laughed. "So, would you reconsider that charm might come easy to you? My theory is that you're not entirely..." He frowned and his lips pursed before he sighed and continued... "... human."

He watched her face for reaction to that comment, and waited to hear her thoughts.

A soft puff of disbelief escaped  Beau's lips as she watched the newly-formed droplets of water roll to the floor. Her face, unlike other no-majes he'd met, held no trace of trepidation, disbelief or fear. Instead,  her bright eyes marveled at the world around her with sheer wonder and fascination. Like a child first beholding something magnificent, she smiled at him with exuberant glee and elation... like he really was the single most beautiful and marvelous thing she'd ever seen. 

As the waiter scurried away, Beau glanced around, wide-eyed  at the rest of the room. She felt special on stage... all eyes on her, gaping at her... but this feeling was something else entirely. Beyond  having a simple secret, beyond  having every eye in the room on you... this experience of knowing... of HAVING - at least for the moment being - something so monumental, without a single glance from anyone in the entire building... it made her cheeks buzz and her toes tingle.

Looking around at everyone else absorbed in their utter cluelessness suddenly struck her as immensely entertaining, and unbearably humorous. A bashful snicker worked it's way up from her chest, erupting in a fit of giggles... which, to her utter amusement, of course NO ONE else heard. 

'Spell'... she mouthed the word with eyes of childlike wonder, giggling again. But the laughter died from her lips as he continued. Thoughts spun behind her eyes like clockwork figurines as the gears slid in and out of place like a waltz with too many steps. That familiar expression of confusion and reconciliation played across her plump, delicate features.  Slowly, her thin fingers found their way to her cheeks; patting her face, neck, bosom, and eventually her hips in turn, as if to check that everything was the right shape and really 'there'. 

Not human? That was ludicrous. Of course she was human. He was insane... he had to be insane. But then... she had just watched water materialize out of nowhere... and move on it's own... and she could scream as loud as she wanted ans she was sure no one would hear. And suddenly that latter thought terrified her a little bit. Almost more than the next. If she wasn't human.... 

Her gaze slowly cleared, ever so slightly, as she finally looked up at him again and whispered... in the faintest of almost-fearful voices, "What else could I BE??"

Thomas grinned at her reactions to the magic around them... She was certainly an interesting anomaly. How would he answer her question: what was she? He didn't know. He wasn't even entirely sure how to find out! But he was certain that -someone- could tell him... Newt might have an answer.

"Hones~" he trailed off and held up a finger to signify she not speak on it as the waiter returned and he released the spell for a moment.

"Here sir, let me clean up this mess!" Quickly the younger man dropped to his hands and knees, soaking up the water that had poured out onto the floor. Jokingly, Thomas rolled his eyes and pointed at the man on the ground and mouthed - 'No Maj' -... Chuckling softly after his joke, he stopped and realized it was only -really- funny to him because he understood what he'd said. Again he held up a finger. He'd tell her what he could shortly.

As the waiter finished mopping up Thomas' accident, he apologized to the couple and turned to walk off. Thomas called after him, "No no! I'm terribly sorry! It was my fault. A slip of the wand if you would."

The man turned back and looked at Thomas... "Of the wand?"

"Of the wand? That's preposterous! Does my hand look like a wand? That's children's games! A slip of the hand, lad. Of the hand! Get your mind out of fairy's tales and that dribble!"

"Y-yes, sir... Sorry sir?" The waiter ran off hurriedly to leave them be, thoroughly confused.

Thomas grinned and winked playfully at Beaux before, again, waving a hand and repeating... "Muffliato."

It became obvious that people could no longer hear them again as Thomas made some odd noises. A bird call, a cow's call, even a pig's call... And not the oink oink kind, but SOOOOEEEEEYYYYYY!

Nothing.

Absolute ignorance of the situation at hand.

And Thomas loved it.

"Okay kitten, where were we. So... I've truly no idea -what- you are, but I'm certain there are ways to find out... We might have to meet up with my..." He paused in thought yet again. That seemed to be a habit for Thomas. "Boss? I don't really know if he's my boss, my friend, teacher, mentor, all of the above? Maybe. We can meet with him, or simply study through some of the libraries we have. I'm sure we can figure out what you are from one of those alleys."

He smiled. "We should get out of here before these 'No Maj's' start to get suspicious of strange happenings. You thought cats were curious? Watch them."

He pointed to a table on the other side of the restaurant.

"People like them are worse than cats. They make things up to explain the unexplained, and blame magic that they can't even fathom. There are rules, laws, it's like any science..." Thomas grinned. "And then it's also not."

He smirked mischievously and laughed. "Also, I'm going to guess you're bright enough to understand 'No Maj' means a non-magical human or creature. That's at least what they're called here in America... Apparently the puddle jumpers call them 'Muggles'..." He shrugged. "No idea what other countries might say, don't really care. It's all the same. They use magic or they don't." He laughed again and then sat back in his chair. "We should pay and go visit 'Scat'... And before you ask? He's a 'No Maj' which means no magic talk around him, even if he talks about how magical the soul of the city is, or how his music is the magical soul of swing... It's not the same, I promise you. Though it could be, it really could. That boy can play his horn and arrange music like no one else."

Thomas stood and threw cash on the table. "You ready? Or still want that dessert?"

Isabeaux struggled to maintain her composure as the whole world seemed to go topsy-turvy. Partially, she appeared entirely bewildered. And yet, there was something about her expression that cautioned him to be more careful... and quiet. 

"Okay... um... okay," Buea blushed as she tried to articulate all of the thoughts racing through her mind. The rational part of her SCREAMED that it was a scam... somehow this was all a trick or a set-up. But she couldn't deny or discount what she'd seen with her own eyes. And convincing this many people to all go along with it...

She glanced around at the bustling dining room once again before nodding with a slow, deep exhale. "Okay..." it almost seemed to be all she could say as she slid herself carefully from the table as Thomas threw down enough cash to cover the meal three times over. "Okay," this was the last time she was going to say that, she thought to herself as they moved to the door. "I'm always down to meet a fellow entertainer, and if he's as good as you say I might even have some use for him." She breathed deeply again, plastering a playful smile over her mildly bewilderment. Grinning at him, she crooned, "Besides... you might be crazy, but you're awfully cute. And what other cat is gonna show such a good time?" It was fluff. He knew it was fluff. But it was a good front, none the less. 

Slipping her arm into his, Beau rested her cheek on Thomas' shoulder as he led her outside and guided her toward Scat's part of town; glass from the busted street lights crunching underfoot. She was quiet for a long while, her cutting blue eyes carefully scrutinizing the expressions of each person they passed; returning their smiles and nods with growing suspicion. 

Finally, after several blocks, she broke her pensive silence; glancing up at him to whisper softly, "You really don't think I'm normal, do you?" Her blue eyes combed his expression with an almost pained searching, "... that people don't like me for me." Her eyes fluttered wide for a brief moment, "What about you? Does that mean I've charmed you, too? I mean... if I'm not human... and I'm not sayin' I believe you yet, but if I'm not, then can I... I mean can we... I mean... Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, my life just got weird. I don't even know if I know what's happening right now." 

Beau swayed a little, leaning into Thomas for support as she giggled... somewhat maniacally. But, who could blame her under the circumstances? 

Shaking it off, she plastered that carefree, flirty mask back on as they sauntered along. "So... what else can you tell me before we get there? Can you show me more? What about these libraries? And what's your boss thing like? You really think he'll agree with you? What if your wrong? Oh, fuck me, what if your not? You think he'll know how to figure it out? Does this mean I'm like you?? Do you think I can.... y'know?" Beau wiggled her fingers at him playfully, her smile truly genuine for the first time since leaving dinner... genuine and utterly breathtaking. The twinkle that flashed in her eyes nearly knocked the wind from him as that smile slammed into his pounding heart like not just one but two tons of bricks; the sun seeming to shine a little brighter as the wind stirred the pollen around them in a romantic tableau worthy of the Hollywood's silverscreen. 

Thomas chuckled as they walked along, glass crunching beneath their feet and the sound of sweet, swingin' music coming from down the alley they walked through. Her questions had him pondering the best answers that would help her and not frighten her away. Arm in arm, he pulled her closer.

"Well..." he sighed out. "No. I don't think you're normal. Yes, you could have charmed me, which is why as soon as I got an inkling about it I cast a spell to release any hold and shielded myself. I must say, regardless, I'm just as interested." He smirked and looked down at her on his shoulder.

"I said you're not human... That doesn't mean there isn't a part of you that is. I think you are, and yet you aren't... If that makes sense?" he chuckled, realizing exactly how insane that must actually sound. Another sigh escaped his lips as he turned his head back to the path that lay before them. "I think that there is -enough- of you that is human, that you could... we could... I know what you meant. Yes, I think it's possible. But that also means it's just as possible to have another... Um... You?" He chuckled.

"See, magic is strange, and works in mysterious ways. Much like people say 'God' works in mysterious ways..." He smirked. "If they only knew how those mysteries worked..." Thomas shook his head as they pushed into Scat's little part of the world. Bombarded with the shrill sounds of horns and a quick beat swingin' through the night, Thomas took her hand.

"C'mon doll, let's catch a booth and wait for the band to take a break and you can meet Scat."

He led her off to the side of the room, keeping his back turned. "So what else I can tell ya, is I think Newt will like ya. He's a Magizoologist. His specialty is magical creatures. He even keeps many of them in his home to learn about them. Caring for them better than anyone I know." He looked at her and quickly added. "But you're too human. He wouldn't keep you there. Just might be able to figure out what the not-human part of yo-..."

He was cut off by a familiar whistle of the mic and turned to the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Thomas O'Malley... The. Alley. Cat!" A bright light turned, shining on him and Isabeaux. The familiar voice of Scat called out playfully, "Get on up here you cat! You know everybody want's ta be a cat like you!"

Thomas chuckled and shook his head. "Nah Scat, I'm here with a dame!" he yelled back.

"BRING HER TOO!" he yelled back. "You know you want to!"

The band struck up a toon and Thomas laughed, taking Beaux's hand. "C'mon dame, it's 'No-Maj' party time." He drug her out to the middle of the dance floor and spun her around, throwing her body around his with the swing of the beat before spinning her off to another fella and hopping on stage to take the mic... Singing along with the rest of the band...

Scat started off, chuckling and looking at Isabeaux as he stated...

"Well little lady, let me elucidate you here..."

As the band led into the first verse, Scat and Thomas sang rounds...

((Song Link, click me!))

Everything that was weighing on Beau's mind dissipated as Thomas pulled her to the floor. She laughed as he tossed her... rather roughly... about. His movements were sharp, lacking the smootheness of his words, but he still knew how to handle himself well enough to give her a run for her money... which is saying something when you're dancing with a show girl. She was almost impresssed as he twirled and spun her, never once losing grip or missing a step. But the euphoria was all too short lived as he passed her to another bloke and slinked his way onto the stage. 

The duo was entertaining enough... and Scat was every bit as good as Thomas said. Her new dance partner, however, wasn't. His hands were rough and grasping, his body language nervous and overly self-conscious. Somewhere around the first chorus... by third time he stomped Beau's toes, she was done. Winking playfully at the beguiled gentlemen, she spun herself away and hopped the stage with a flashy twirl. Blowing Thomas a kiss, she bumped him lightly out of the way and stole the second verse... ad-lib style... to the apparent surprise and delight of both the band and the audience. 

With a hypnotic sway of her hips, Beau's saucy voice rang out over the mic, her presence blending into Scat's little stage as if she'd been born there. The lights dimmed and coloured playing over the dancefloor with professional precision as dust glittered down from the rafters in a dance of pastel rainbows. 

A simple glance over her shoulder, and the band fell into a perfect tempo change; the song slowly and gaining a sultry kind of swank that only a woman could pull off. 

With another wink at Scat, she twirled away from the mic and commenced a percussive tapdance in time with the band as the song picked back up; Thomas and Scat bringing it to a climactic, swinging close.

Cackling with pure glee, she melted into the crook of Thomas' arm as they sauntered offstage for the band's break; the crowd in the tiny bar parting noticably as he led Beau back to their little corner table. The euphoria and jubilation oozing off of her was physically palpable as she slid into her seat with a lighthearted chuckle. It seeped out of her pores and permeated the space around them; the mood of the bar lifting and lightening noticably as the people around them began to chatter, laugh, dance, and generally beam with a kind of joy that hadn't been seen on this side of town since the crash. 

No muggle could possibly be this enchanting. The perfection of her was spellbinding. She was too much; too pure, too lovely, too flawless, too captivating. It seemd she was an absolute impossibility. He... Thomas O'Malley... couldn't possibly be this taken by a plain no-maj stage girl.  The longer they spent together, the more he watched her, the more he felt her presence for himself and watched it wash over others... Thomas became even more sure that she HAD to be magical.

((Beau's version - song link here))

Thomas stared for a moment as he took his seat, quiet, as the other fellas smoked a cigarette by the bar. "Wow, doll. I knew you had to be good... But I didn't know you'd be -that- good!" He had a stupid grin in his face... You know the kind, the one boys have when they look at a girl that completely blows their mind and then they realize she's there with them... Yeah, that smile. He reached across the table and went to open his mouth, but Scat strutted over and slid in next to Isabeaux.

"Heya kitten! What was -THAT-!?" he turned to Thomas. "Where'd ya find this little minx, eh? She's welcome in -my- club anytime!"

Thomas and Scat chuckled before both looking at Isabeaux.

"Beaux, this is Scat. Scat. Beaux." Thomas waved his hand between the two.

Scat bowed his head to the lady and smiled, "Greetings, mademoiselle... A.C. here taught me that one." The younger gentlemen snickered a bit then turned back to her. "So what brings a pretty dame likes you ta this broken down part of tha city, hmm?"

He took a drag from his cigarette and a sip from his bourbon before offering both Thomas and Beaux a smoke. Thomas took one and lit it with a zippo he pulled from his pocket, looking to Beaux before winking.

"Want a drink doll? They're on tha house for me. Less Scat changed his tune..."

"Nah, for you, O'Malley? You fed me when I had nothin'. Your money's no good here."

Thomas smiled. "Sounds like a little slice of paradise... Almost nice as my alley." He hopped up and made his way to the bar, calling behind him. "You two talk, get ta know each other..." He spun and hopped up the one step to the bar and leaned against it, talking to the bar mistress and ordering drinks. Turning around, he rested his elbows against the bartop and watching Scat with Beaux...

Beau glowed and blushed a little brighter as Thomas smiled at her. Of course, plenty of men smiled at her... all the time. But never like that; never like they really saw her. Her nose wrinkled just a little in that cute shy-girl kind of way as she bashfully smiled back. You know the kind. The one girls get when a guy looks at them like they hung the moon... like their in awe of her soul and not just her body... like the first time she feels him play her heartstrings. Yeah, that smile.

She instinctively leaned in as he reached for her... every cell and atom in her body reacting to some unrecognized and insatiable yearning.  But they both quickly slid away as Scat scooched himself into their shattered little moment. 

Shifting away from Scat ever so slightly, Beau turned so that her back was protectively in the corner before chuckling lightly, " 'THAT' was a performace, Sugar. Or ain'tcha ever seen a REAL show?" She poked Scat playfully, sliding into yet another enchanting persona with disturbing ease. She bowed her head with a smile as Thomas introduced them properly, and listened intently as the two bantered... a familiar cascade of questions flowing her way. 

"Cabaret Capella," she admitted, and took careful note of the shadow that crossed Scat's features. "Tommy here nearly bowled me over runnin' from a failed mark. So... we split a lil tit for tat and he insisted I come spend the evenin' samplin' the finer secrets of the city. Your place included." She winked at him, her attention trailing off as her gaze fixated on Thomas and the way he pouted just so perfectly absorbed in lighting his cigarette.

...oh the things she'd do with those lips... 

Shaking her head, Beau snapped back to full focus, "No smokes for me, Sugar. Gotta save my singin' voice." She grinned, her eyes devouring him like a hungry lion, "I'll take a drink, though. Nothin' too stong. I'd like to keep my wits about me around you two heathens." She chuckled at her own joke beofore calling after Thomas, "Surprise me!" 

She watched him for a breif moment, reveling in his... we'll everything... as he leaned casually against the bar, taking her time to frink him in like a cool glass of water before turning her attention back to Scat. The look on his face was priceless. You know the kind. The one when a friend know just how bad you got it. Yeah, that look. 

Beau blushed a little, lowering her gaze to pilfer ther dusty floor so that she didn't have to meet his gaze. And Scat laughed like that was the funniest joke he'd heard in all his life. "Don't hide your face, Doll. Your not the first kitten to be smitten by our Alley Cat," he reached gently to turn her face back to the sun. "I will say you are the prettiest though," he admitted with an air of that familiar hunger so many men seemed to have for her. To her surprise though, he chuckled and it was suddenly as if she had no effect on him at all. For the briefest of moments, Beau marveled at him like he was a priceless gem for being able to shake off her charm so easily. But just as quickly, a thought ripped through her and jerked her attention back to the bar as she shot Thomas a questioning glance. 

Scat continued as if he'd noticed nothing at all, his tone suddenly a touch more serious. "You know, normally I'd tell you to be careful around Thomas. I love him, but he is a rascal," Scat smiled bashfully as he nodded toward his friend. "There's somethin' about you, though... Somethin' that makes me think you might just be able to match him." The younger man turned and regarded Beau, really LOOKING at her for the first time. "I haven't known him all that long in the grand scheme of things... but we've shared enough that I know him... and I've never seen him look like that. Not with anyone. And he deserves that, y'know. He's good people, our cat. Even if he is a hellion. He's a good heart. And good hearts deserve a little... well, you know...." Scat trailed off, giving Beau a meaningful look, "You could be real good for him. So just... You be good to him. That's all." 

Beau nodded, remaining silent, though her smiled said everything in the world. Scat, equally silent for a moment, smiled and nodded. "I thought so," he chuckled and nudged her. The two exchanged pleasantries as they waited Thomas to return to the table. And, while there was plenty of frivolity, Beau couldn't help but sense a kind of heaviness that seemed to linger in the silence between words. It made her suspicious and uncomfortable. But, as Thomas returned to the table, drinks in hand, all be came clear. 

Scat, giving Thomas one of those 'inside' looks between friends, turned to Beau as his buddy returned as asked - pointedly - "SO, you're one of Vinnie's girls...?" 

And there it was. They'd be having THIS conversation tonight. No wonder Scat seemed so fidgetty. Turning her face away from the conversation, tears stung her eyes as she stared down into the drink that Thomas slid across to her... giving him only the briefest of shame-filled glances. There were no words for a long while as Thomas glanced between the two, neither one offering up any explaination just yet; Beau's gaze set intently on her drink as if trying to scry a portal away from the table and Scat maintaining his tell-tale expression at his friend. 

Well, if everything both men had said tonight was right, then she supposed - at least - he deserved to understand as Scat seemed to. As she glanced up at him once more - his expression more concern than judgement - the tiniest flicker of hope sparked behind her vibrant blue eyes. Softly and flatly, her voice finally found its way from its hiding place behind her ruby lips, "Yeah, Scat. I'm one of Vinnie's girls." 

That was it. Plain and simple. No explaination, as she turned away again, struggling to regain her shattered coposure. The facade of ideal perfection melted away as a single tear trickled down her cheek, leaving them with just the raw girl-next-door underneath. 

Thomas smirked as Scat had shrugged off Beaux's charm. That was the one magical part about him... You couldn't charm that schmoozer. As Beaux looked to Thomas, he shook his head then turned back to the bar. Taking a last drag from his cigarette, he put it out and blew a plume of smoke overhead. The bartender delivered the drinks, and Thomas made his way back. A cocktail for all three. A little bourbon mixed with some soda, and two pieces of ice in each drink...

"Here ya are, doll... Hope the drink goes smooth. It's Scat's favorite... And mine too." He chuckled and took a seat, noticing the tension. It was thick like fog over the harbor, and he blew softly over their heads... Almost as he did so, like he'd lifted the fog, Scat turned to Beaux.

"SO, you're one of Vinnie's girls?" he'd asked... And she'd frozen. Thomas watched her carefully, watched Scat carefully... His gaze swam between the two of them, but Thomas looked at Beaux almost pleading for her to say no... Not because of any judgement, but no one deserved to be stuck with that low-life scum. Scat looked at Thomas and gave him "the look"... Thomas nodded and looked back at Beaux, the tear down her cheek enough of an answer... But when she looked into his eyes, she admitted it aloud.

Scat nodded and stood. "Thomas, I'm gonna go make a call... I'm gonna leave you to talk with her. But tha trash gotta go. I'm sick of it."

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, Scat, I know. I'm with ya..."

He turned his gaze back to Beaux, and he saw her face, quickly adding... "Scat doesn't like Vinnie... Nothin' ta do with you, doll. He wants Vinnie outta town. We been cookin' up ways to get him gone, but... Nothin' legal ever sticks. I think you're Scat's last straw... He's gonna go ta war for ya, love. If I know that cat, he's gonna put his club against Vinnie somehow."

Thomas chuckled. "He must really like your style. I know I do."

With a sigh, Thomas reached across the table and grabbed Beaux's hand. "Talk to me about it... How is he? Does he treat you okay or is it as bad as Scat's told me before?"

In an instant Beau shattered and melted all at  once, lifting Thomas' palm to her cheek she sank into him like a safe harbour. 

"It's not so bad for me," she admitted in a shakey voice, "He's always been softer on me than he is on the other girls. But it's still not great. I usually make enough off the evening shows that he doesn't make me work any 'extra'... if you get me. But even with things picking up, my cut isn't enough to pay off what I owe." 

Beau took a deep, shaking breath and a LARGE gulp of h er drink. Blinking down at it in pleasant surprise, she gave a small 'hmph' and nodded approvingly before continuing the very serious conversation. 

"That's how he works, see? He houses us, feeds us, pays for our clothes and our costumes... training for the stage and in ettiquette. The opportuinty is GLORIOUS at first. Beyond what most of us could dream of when we start out. It seems so simple... too simple. We're offered the foundations for this amazing life... to finally make something of ourselves. And all we have to do is dance to work off the laons. But they stack up so quickly. Every little thing is tacked on at an extra fee. And the interest is EXORBITANT. Most of the girls can't make their fees month-to-month. And when you fall behind, he tacks on late charges and more interest. It's like a never ending hole that you can't dig yoruself out of." 

Beau shook her head, rubbing her temples. "And what's worse... if you can't pay, he 'lets' you work it off on your back. The worse a client treats you... the rougher and more twisted they are... the more Vinnie deducts from your debt. And he's the worst of them. You wouldn't believe some of the things he's forced those girls to do... for nothing more than his own perverse entertainment." 

Beau shook her head, the words flowing out like the hoover dam just broke, "And, of course, if he hurts you... or one of his clients do... then the doctor's bill is tacked on to what you owe, no matter how bad it was." 

She finally stopped to breathe, looking up at him with utter hopelessness and despair etched into her face, "The whole mess is designe so there's no way out. He owns us, Thomas. He owns us for life. And it's not so bad for me... but... the others... god, Thomas, if you could see the way Betty comes home some nights..." 

"It's awful." 

"The girls he picks... they're all like me... well not like ME. Not...." she paused and wiggled her fingers with a sardonic chuckle, "But... like me... Orphans, run aways, single mothers... the absolute MOST vulnerable. THOSE are the girls he preys on.  And he KNOWS it... he LIKES it. He's a monster, Tommy. A real one. Worse than anything in your world." 

Thomas snorted in a maniacal, derisive sort of way. "They always are... 'No-Maj's' are the worst of all. With no magic, no wonder in their world, they stoop to all sorts of means. Don't get me wrong, we have people like that in our world too but, nothing's worse than a human. Ever."

He sighed and looked at Beaux.

"How much..."

His eyes were dark. Sparkle was gone, but they were burning in a sense... She would be able to feel the way the shadows shifted and pooled in his eyes. The darkness of what ever his thoughts were laid hidden behind those glassy looking, black orbs. It wasn't often that Thomas was filled with hate and anger, but he certainly oozed a heavy energy from every pore along his body. Every inch of him teeming with an electrical energy that you could practically feel. So much so that the seething feeling was affecting nearly everyone around him.

Scat made his way back to the table and placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a pat. "Calm down, K.C...  Don't sweat it. We'll take care of this kitten. I got a place she can stay, and we can pay her debt off..."

Thomas didn't move his gaze from Beaux. "How much..." he repeated, pulling a certain coin from his pocket and setting it on the table. Scat smirked, knowing full well how Thomas worked, and that coin was going to somehow draw in enough money from people to take care of any financial problems they had. What came after that? Well... That depended on Vinnie, didn't it?

Beau smiled, but shook her head. "I couldn't possibly. Then I'd just owe you." Her eyes sparkled a bit, despite her trepidation. "I'd owe you nearly 55 thousand," she admitted with a mischevious smile that said she knew she'd answered without telling him directly, "and with no way to pay it back. I mean, I suppose I could work it off, if you'd let me. But besides... there are plenty of women who need that help FAR worse than I. Truly, if you want to do something for me, help them. I have it comparatively easy." 

Beau shook her head, burrying her face in her hands hopelessly, "I wish there was a way to just be done with the whole of it. I've really thought about just offing the fiend... it wouldn't be that hard. But another monster would just take his place. And even if the feds finally closed us down, someone'd just take the business model and run to another district. It's like there's no good way to run... them... all...... out....." 

Beau's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Thomas with an expression of pure epiphany. "How much... do you think? How much would it take to buy off the whole place? Run it right? We could put a speakeasy in the back and lofts up top. Why, we could even make it hub for..." Beau cut herself short, realizing almost too late the company they were in. But she shot Thomas one of 'those' meaningful looks, trusting that he would know exactly what she meant. 

Chuckling softly, Beau blushed and shook her head, turning her gaze back to the table. "What am I saying. There's no way I could ever come up with THAT kind of cash. And I certainly don't expect you blokes to. We just met!" She laughed and lifted the remainder of her drink for a toast, "Here's to fool's gold, pipe dreams, and wishful thinking." Tossing her blonde curls back, she downed what was left of the drink and slammed the empty glass onto the table. 

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right? So, I'm just gonna let you gentlemen follow your consciences and not read too far into the future here. You doing you is on you," she glanced at Thomas, her self-assurance melting a bit as she met his gaze, "Right?" 

Thomas almost laughed and shook his head at the ball park figure of fifty-five thousand. To most of the world that was impossible. And for Thomas it would have LOOKED impossible considering the clothes he wore... But he didn't even balk at the price.

"That's nothin' sweet. Fifty-five thousand? That's chump change for someone like me..." He grinned at Scat then looked back.

"And you'd owe me nothin' doll. I don't deal in that kind of debt collection. Not when it's someone I like." He winked. "Hows about we go have a chat with Vinnie? I think we can come to an arrangement of sorts."

Thomas hopped up ready to go RIGHT THEN... But Scat grabbed his arm. "In the mornin', O'Malley... Let's do this in the mornin'. We can let the dame go in there and handle things first, then we'll go in an' rough'em up some. Then you can do your thing. That... That thing you do... Where those jerks see things your way and don't bat a lash. I still don't know how ya do it, K.C. Not one fuckin' bit. But ya do. Every time."

Scat released Thomas' arm and made his way back to the stage. "Stay here, enjoy the night. Tomorrow, we free us some Cabaret Kittens!" He cackled wickedly happy as he hopped on stage and grabbed his horn. "A ONE! A TWO! A ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" The band struck up with him and they started playing a hot swingin' tune.

Thomas, calming and finally sitting, nodded. "Scat's right. It'll be best if we do it in the mornin'. Give us some time to handle things and get prepared. Get tha other cats together and take the whole crew... Then we can take you to meet Newt and Kat, the -other- heads of our little Order. Newt's in charge, and Kat's his right hand kitten... Then there's me, Left hand of the Order of Merlin and First Class wizard." Thomas winked and smirked. "Ain't much we -can't- do when it comes to 'No-Maj's'." He laughed and tossed back his drink.

"You okay with that plan? We'll take out the trash if he don't agree to the money we offer'em. You don't have to get your pretty little hands dirty. Less ya just want to." His eyes were no longer dark and wicked, but they were mischievously mirthsome in the moment. He -wanted- to do this. And it seemed Scat did too... Like the two had wanted to shake down the cabaret for a while, but just didn't have a good enough reason. Maybe now they did...

Isabeuax grinned with gleeful, almost avian glint. With any other man... any other person at all, really... she would have hidden it. But there was enough craziness between the two of them already, that at this point she believed her own honesty to be the least of their worries. With a wicked grin she met his gaze, her perfect pearly teeth almost looking sharp as they glinted in the dim stage lights. "Honestly," she admitted, her smirk growing murderously mischevious, "For the sake of that sicko, I wouldn't mind getting my nails a little dirtly." 

Beau clawed the air between them with a crackling cackle, an electric tingle dancing across his chest. Leaning in across the table she rested her chin in both hands and batted her butterfly-blues at him in innocent admiration. "I think that all sounds perfectly fine. And the morning is probably better. But, where do you suggest I stay in the meantime? Going back tonight probably isn't the best idea for me. Vinnie's good at reading girls. And I ain't the first to try and fix him. I'd rather not risk it." 

She leaned in a little further, giving him 'that' look in a way that made his whole body tingle as time in the bar slowed a fraction of a second. Underneath the table she wiggled her toes free from her well-worn tap shoes and slid a smoothe, stockinged foot up his thigh like a silverscreen siren. "You can keep me safe, can't you? Promise me?" she crooned with a perfect pout that veritably begged him to seal that promise with a kiss.  

She was good. She was real good. With the right training she'd make a damn fine partner in crime... if he could just get her to focus those talents on the mark and not on him. And as things stood... time warped like saltwater taffy around them... it seemed that would prove a monumentous feat. But... an enjoyable one, to be sure. That is... if he chose to take it on...