The soft notes drift through the door, drawing my attention to a normally quiet part of the Detroit landscape. It’s barely noticeable at first and Im suddenly question if I’m hearing a distant memory. A sweet, happy memory of simpler times. It’s enough to draw me towards the dimly lit sign hanging above and to the left of the door that reads a simple, Piano.

Pushing through the doorway, a light haze from cigarette and cigar smoke hangs in the air, not over powering but noticeable. A well dressed man sits on the bench across the room, his Boulder hat moving along with his fingers as he played a slow, soft song. Most of the tables were filled with relaxed individuals, chatting along happily, sipping at their drinks.

The atmosphere was calm, serene. It seemed any and all problems were left at the door, drawing a smile from me. It had been a while since I could let things slide for a little while anyways. This seemed just like that type of place.

I let the music wash over me as I moved towards the large bar covering the entire left wall. A few bartenders worked behind, occasionally pausing to tap their fingers atop the bar in time with the beat.

I settled in at the bar, tapping the smoke I pulled from my pocket lightly a couple of times before bringing it to my lips. I gave the bartender a courtesy nod along with a folded bill as he placed my drink down. I took a deep breath, drawing in the place before I flicked my lighter alive, pulling a smooth inhale before exhaling with the song.

I felt the tension that had built up in my shoulders begin to wane. It happened gradually but before I knew it, the knot that had been locked up underneath my shoulder blade had all but dissipated. It was growing increasingly harder to find a place to shut out the noise. A place that I wasn’t worried, that I didn’t care for an hour or two.

It felt good to be just another face in the crowd again.

The minute Elle caught wind of the place, she dropped what she was doing and found a cab that would take her down to DickGrayson 's newest venture, 'Piano'. 

She heard it before she saw it, even through the taxicab's open back windows. An easy, sensual tune played on a... well, the sign over the door put it succinctly. Piano. 

Elle paid the driver and walked inside. The smoke from countless cigars and cigarettes tried and failed to envelope her as she made a beeline for her husband there at the bar.

"There he is." Smiling, she gave him a kiss, one that grew a bit heated before she remembered herself and reluctantly pulled back. From her pocket she pulled a blue rosebud, one she quickly pinned to the lapel of his jacket.

"A little something for the entrepreneur. It goes with the wife." Removing her own coat, Elle revealed the new silvery-blue dress she'd bought for the occasion. 

"How are things so far? You already have a little crowd here, and it's only noon on a Thursday!" Elle leaned into him excitedly, it was always such a pleasure to be involved in Dick's ventures. Her hand reached for his drink, found it empty, and politely waved at the nearest bartender, holding up two fingers indicating a fresh drink for the both of them. 

Wrapping my arm around her, I laid my head softly on Elle_E_Ott’s shoulder. Closing my eyes, I breathed her in as I let the music fill the empty spaces. “I’m glad you’re here, Elle.” I wasn’t really in the mood of hiding emotions at the moment, “I’ve missed you, Love. Like a lot. Even with everything to do and everything going on. It’s not worth it if you aren’t around.”

I forced a smiled as the bartender placed our drinks down, “I knew this whole distance thing was going to be a bitch but I didn’t think it would be this difficult, ya know? I’m supposed to be the strong stoic type.”

After a moment, I waved the thought away, turning my focus to my drink, “Sorry. Momentary weakness.”

"Holy fuck boys, this place needs to be pumped up!! Let's fuckin' go!"

Shoresy storms in and goes to the bar and orders 4 beers and 2 shots.

"Let's fuckin' party!!"

Everyone looks over at Shoresy annoyed.  Other than the alcohol, it would appear that this is not the place for a guy like Shoresy.

Elle winced as one of the more rambunctious patrons shouted close to her ear. His call for half a dozen drinks made her smile, though. When the place finally closed its doors tonight, the cash registers were going to be quite full.

"The fact that you're complaining makes me feel a little better. It means you miss me, right?" She smiled over at DickGrayson for a moment, then the smile began to slip away. 

"What about that other thing? That other thing you've gotten yourself involved in that we don't talk about?" Elle continued to look at him knowingly, of course she would know when something was up, even when he hadn't outright told her. Dick didn't necessarily look for trouble per se, but it certainly had a way of finding him. And even when they were separated by six hundred plus miles, Elle could sense whenever it came close to succeeding. 

I leaned my shoulder against her for a moment, “Of course I miss you Elle_E_Ott. I always do. You know that.”

Letting out a sigh, I folded my hands as I rested on my elbows, “The word cluster fuck comes to mind.” I forced a smile. Brace face and what not. I wasn’t quite sure if I should let her know a random family man put a gun to the back of my head under orders of some shadowy organization, “I met an interesting fellow at the chapel at the train station in Philly. The priest there. Guy is clearly out of his mind but he seems to know things. It kinda...feels odd I guess. Like it’s something bigger than a dead girl in an alley.”

A silence washed over us despite the music playing. Luckily I was next to Elle so it didn’t feel terribly awkward. Still, the air suddenly felt heavier, crisper.

Elle took a long moment to ponder everything her husband had just said, the lower part of her face hidden behind the drink poised at her lips. Her eyes began to search his face again, more carefully than they had when she'd arrived at the bar. Pensive demeanor aside, everything seemed in order... except for the faint, fading remains of what could have once been claw marks at his throat. 

Whatever had transpired, Elle was sure DickGrayson hadn't caused the death of the girl in the alley, whoever she might be. She, therefore, hadn't caused the marks. So unless Dick had taken up a new... no. He'd have most certainly included her in anything like that. 

"Did... did the bonkers priest assault you?" It made zero sense, but then again, what made sense anymore? The last priestly person she'd been in any kind of proximity to had married them, and been the spitting image of Frank Sinatra. Elle reached up and stroked gentle fingers over Dick's throat.

"And did you get anything worthwhile out of him for your troubles?"

“Well...” I shrugged, “The squirrelly bastard only has one leg! Swung his crutch at me! Truthfully, Love, I haven’t the faintest fucking clue what I’m going to do. I can’t tell his angle. There seemed to be a general hatred for whatever the hell this whole “The Church” thing is but I don’t know anything about this guy. And he is a goddamn character, that’s for sure. I mean, they sent a fucking civilian to try and kill me. Why couldn’t they use a priest?”

That heavy fog that was hanging over our heads grew a thousand times heavier as soon as I realized that I just let that little tidbit slip.

”I-uh-@Elle_E_Ott...”

Elle closed her eyes and took in a slow, deep breath, the let it back out again just as slowly. The music was loud enough that it went unheard. When her eyes opened again, she smiled her best 'everything's fine' smile, then drained her drink, slowly, in an order to buy a few more seconds of time before she spoke. 

"It's fine. I mean, it's not fine, nutjob clergymen, civilians, no one should be making attempts on you, but it's sort of part and parcel of what we've both chosen to take on, I just wish..." How should she even finish that thought without sounding pompous, emasculating? This was her spouse, after all. Why didn't her status buy him more insulation? At the end of the day, that status really amounted to nothing, and the frustration of it all had her thinking more and more about Monkey Island and things that actually might mean something in the end.

"I wish I could help more, that's all. Unless I can throw money at it or shoot it in the face, I suppose my hands are tied. Right?" Elle signalled for another drink. Was it the second, or the third? Did it matter? 

“That’s the problem, Love, I don’t have any fucking clue what so ever where it’s coming from. All I know about this whole goddamn thing is coming from the gimpy clergyman!”

I slammed my fist hard enough on the bar top that my drink jumped and I hadn’t even realized it. “This is different, Elle. This is something more than randoms taking shots at a fresh bold suit. The favor being asked. The girl that passed. There’s- there’s a lot I haven’t told you, Elle. And please, for the love of god, don’t ask me why I didn’t. Chalk it up to my stupidly ridiculous chivalrous side. I’m sure in my twisted logic I was protecting you or some bullshit like that. I know, I know.” I waved my hands defensively, “Youre built to survive long after I am.”

Aside from the jump resulting from the fist hitting the bar, Elle didn't move. Chalk it up to too much sensory overload, but for an eerie moment she felt as though she'd somehow consumed some of the shit her guys peddled. Her eyes flashed to her empty drink glass, but, no. Couldn't be loaded, she'd watched the bartender pour it. 

"The gimpy clergyman." The second she'd echoed his description, she wished she hadn't. The need to start giggling was huge. Instead, she scooted a little closer to DickGrayson , ignoring the outright stares of the patrons close enough to them that assumed they were fighting, and further confused them all by kissing him. 

"I'm not going to ask that, Dick. I know better than to do that. From the day I met you, you've been trying to protect me from every big bad thing coming your way. It's how you're programmed. I kinda love that about you." She extended her index finger and lifted his chin with it until their eyes locked. 

"You're wrong about that last part, though. I'm not built to survive you. The end of you means the end of me, so let's not bring that up for discussion again." Her words were soft but her eyes were hard as her hand fell away from his face and she leaned her forehead against his. 

"I'm just... going to trust you to tell me if I can help you."

After a few hours at Elle’s Park doing little more than staring off into space, I shuffled into Piano. The last time I had been here was with Elle, before...everything that happened, happened. And it wasn't exactly the best of conversations. Not as far as we went anyways.
 

The soft music filled the space as soon as I pushed through the double doors. It was a welcomed sound to the usual loud, abrasive sounds I had grown accustomed to back home. It was calming, reflective. A chance to finally be able to take a deep breath and not worry about the next. Those opportunities were coming few and far between for a while now. 
 

I grabbed the first empty table, sliding into my seat before even slipping out of my jacket. Truthfully, there was little more that I wanted to do other than get drunk at the moment. I didn't have any plans. I wasn't even fully sure why I was in the city. Something was pulling me along I guess. Nothing tangible, nothing that I could explain. It was little more than a feeling, a familiar tug below the surface.

It didn't take particularly long for the first bottle to disappear and the second bottle was emptying just as fast now. Although it might have been my initial intention, I certainly didn't intend to end up in this state as fast as I was. A side effect of trying to forget large chunks of time at a rapid pace. 

Finishing my glass in one long pull, I nearly slammed it down as I pulled the cork free with my other hand. It was one swift motion, the type of muscle memory that only came with repetition. A habit that wasn't going to break any time soon. Or rather a habit that I wasn't going to try and break any time soon.

I filled the glass nearly to the top, the melting ice clinking its way up the glass as I did. It was a more calming sound than it rightfully should have been, to be honest. Another thing that came with repetition, I suppose.

By now, things began to slip away. Elizabeth’s trail had grown cold. Elle_E_Ott was gone. I grew ridiculously lucky that Von and Ally were my hands and, at this point, that was pretty much my only saving grace right about now. Sure, cash was still rolling in, through legitimate and illegitimate means but, it just...it just didn't feel the same. 

The majority of that might have been my fault though. I locked up, shut down, once she was gone. It changed the dynamic, it changed the world. The status quo changed. I had to change with it. If I didn't, all of this, all the time, all the things that were built, they would all be for naught.

None of this would mean a damn thing.

That's not the way it was supposed to be.

That's not the way I was going to let it end. There was still too much on the line.

Still, there wasn't much I was going to do about anything now. Elizabeth and Jimmy, The Church, whatever the hell that was, all of it was going to have to wait.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows atop the table as the smoke that filled the room enveloped me, the soft pain keys tapping lightly through the haze.

I don't know what I'm even doing in this dirty industrial town. I like staying in my own lane, my own neighborhood. 

Something called me here, though. So at a quarter past nine, I left the hotel room I'd booked and started walking. 

A female walking the streets alone, in any city of size, was probably just asking for trouble. I didn't care, though. I was tired, dehydrated, and still too wired from the flight to sleep. Walking would help, and the scalpel tucked into my leather boot would help even more, if someone wanted to make it an issue. 

One block, two, three. It's quieter than I'd thought it'd be. Quiet, until I hear a piano playing. I thought it was a radio at first, but no, it's coming from a pretty nice-looking bar up ahead. I veer off the sidewalk when the door appears. The man just inside it lets me in, even though I'm dressed in jeans and a light sweater.

"Just a tonic water, thank you." The bartender got to me so fast I didn't have time to think. I take a seat at the bar, and surveil the room while doing so. Mostly full, and mostly people with money, and time, to burn. I try to look like I'm one of them, relaxing my shoulders and even trying to smile when my tonic arrives. It probably looks just as forced as it actually is. In my 30's, I already have frown lines.

The piano player is pretty good, but what do I know. I'm trying to suss out what song he's playing when the aggressive crack of glass hitting wood makes me turn my head. There's a man back there, alone at a table in semi-darkness. Everything about him radiates unhappiness, but it's the empty whiskey bottle that I find most alarming. He's finished one, and is working on another. 

Not your business, Tara. Just let it go. I pick up my tonic and try to listen to the piano again, but my brain has latched on to the fate of a stranger's liver, and I can't focus anymore. I pick up my glass, swing my legs off the barstool, and walk purposefully to the man's table. I don't even ask if I can sit, I just do it. 

"Tara Knowles." I stick my hand out, he's got no choice in shaking it. 

"I don't know you. I'm not from around here. So, you know, if you need to talk to someone with no strings or obligations, I can be a pretty good listener." 

I wait, casually staring off into the distance and swinging my foot to the beat of the song I still can't identify while DickGrayson decides what he wants to do. 

It was an unexpected moment, but if be lying if I said it wasn't welcomed. I took her hand in mine, shaking it firmly, or as firmly as I could anyways, “Evening Miss-Miss Knowles.” I stumbled over my words slightly as I pushed the chair beside myself with my foot slightly. 

“Dick Grayson, at your service. You're wel- you're welcome to take a seat if you'd like.” I reached forward, topping off my glass once more. Maybe not the best choice but, a choice none the less, “Cant guarantee I'll be any fun though. Or-” I caught myself before giving way to the drink after not much of a fight, “Or if you'll be safe.”

ahhhh Master Grayson, how is Master Bruce?  we have similar rodenty fancies.

I would like to play but must insist on playing a Bechstein, as do all the gods, we simply won't settle for anything less.

also, do you have nuts?

Olivia liked music, she found it exciting to dance. Thats why Velvet's club was such a magical place for her, those ladies did all sorts of dances she had never ever seen before. Plus they were all so sparkly. But she wasn't in Philly today, she found herself in Detroit, drawn to a small place that seemed welcoming from its open door and the notes drifting softly out of it. 

She managed to get inside and with the help of Mr. Bear she got on one of the barstools. Smiling broadly at the person behind the bar, "Hello! My name is Olivia and I would like a Shirley Temple please!" she said loudly, "and extra cherries." she paused for a moment, tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth, "Like, take what you think would be an ok number and like quadrillion it ok?" she said with a nod. 

She didn't know anyone in town, not really. It wasn't like Chicago or Philly where she would run into faces she knew. Sending her slight unease, Mr. Bear let out a soft growl and nudged her leg with his nose. Absentmindedly she reached down and gave him some scratches. "Don't worry, Mister Bear, I'm sure we'll meet people here!" she said sounding a bit more confident than she felt. 

I was a bit rattled after leaving the Police Headquarters. By a general rule of thumb of mine, I didn’t go toe to toe with a detective, especially not one I was meeting for the first time but, rules were generally made to be broken. Even getting out of there when I did, didn’t give me any ease.

I was lucky when I wandered upon Piano. I could hear the soft music before I even saw the building itself. Something that somehow sounded completely out of place but exactly where it was supposed to be at the same time. I doubted many people knew about the place and from the look of the crowd, it was the quieter, wiser, more mature crowd that frequented here often. That was exactly what I was looking for. Somewhere that I could slip into the crowd, and blend in with the rest.

I paused for a moment as I stepped inside, trying to spy an open seat through the cigar and cigarette haze. There was an empty chair at a small table to the left of the piano player. Seemed like the perfect spot to me. Close enough to the bar so that I won’t have to wait long on a drink but not close enough to the piano that I can still hear over it.

Draping my jacket over the back of the seat, I sat down, enjoying the tune already. I signaled for one of the servers that were moving around, “Whiskey neat, water back, please.” I slid them a folded bill as I turned my focus back to the soft music.