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Angelica closed her eyes as she leaned against the sink, listening to the sound of her own slowing pulse in her ears and the dimmed indistinct noise from just beyond the bathroom walls.
She really hated crowded places like this. Noisy, rowdy bars where people were constantly talking, where she felt like she had to constantly fight to hear her own thoughts above the din. She didn’t know how Argalia could like all of that. He’d probably like this place, letting himself get carried away in the din, covering up the empty, silent places in his own head where other things would fill the void against his will if he didn’t make the effort first.
Just another one of those little things that the twins so often ignored so as to keep the familiar, safe sense of cultivated harmony between them.
Angelica wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and silently counted back from five… four… three… two… one.
Angelica sharply clapped her hands against her cheeks, looked at her reflection, and moved her lips until the smile in the mirror looked just right.
Alright. Back out into the fray in order to return to the circle of other Fixers she had been with. Didn’t want to make them wait too long for her. It wouldn’t do to look too unsociable. Iori had always said that it was good to keep up these kinds of sociable working relationships with people even when not actively on the job.
Angelica was braced against the return to the noise of the crowd like someone prepared for a winter’s chill to sting at their face after they left their warm house. Her easygoing chatter went right back to what it had been, picking right back up in the conversations she had left behind when she excused herself to the bathroom. She laughed at the jokes at the right time, asked questions where appropriate, and kept interested in the stories that the others were telling as they talked in raised voices to be heard over the din.
Argalia always made this look so easy for him. Angelica envied that of him a little. Maybe she should try to ask someday how he made it look so genuine.
Eventually, the group migrated. Glasses had run empty, and instead of turning someone into an errand runner, they all migrated their way over towards the bar to get their own individual refills. Angelica weaved her way through the crowd with the rest of them, careful to avoid jostling past someone or catching a stray elbow or foot. She had become very good at that kind of thing thanks to her career.
She ordered herself another drink when she came to the bar, the same as what she had just finished, and contented herself to waiting. However, when one of her drinking companions suddenly jerked too quickly in her direction due to a slip, it ended up being Angelica who knocked into someone else’s space when her elbow connected with the arm of the person sitting at the bar beside where she stood.
“Sorry,” Angelica apologized automatically. She glanced to the side, ready to judge whether they’d take the apology and leave it, or if they might be the kind inclined to make trouble over it. However, that was when she realized that she recognized her bar neighbor. “Oh, hi, Olivier. Didn’t think I’d run into you tonight.”
Olivier, one of the Fixers who worked in Charles Office. He was the guy that Roland was always paired up with from what she’d been able to gather. She could see why. For someone who could be so surly and openly distrustful, a more personable sort like Olivier was the perfect counterpart. Two people in perfectly practiced balance, a little like herself and her brother, she thought idly.
“Oh, Angelica, hey there.” Olivier greeted her. He gave his arm a quick rub where she’d elbowed him, but she barely noted the gesture when she knew who it was. He wasn’t the type to make a fuss over all that from her experience with him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“Well, some people I know wanted to come here, and they invited me out,” Angelica replied smoothly. Speaking of that. Angelica tilted her head and glanced around Olivier’s back. No familiar gap in reality in the shape of a person. The rest of the bar stools were filled, but it was just a line of strangers she had no recognition of. “Are you here alone tonight? I don’t see your shadow hanging around anywhere. Though I’m guessing this wouldn’t be his kind of place anyway.”
Olivier had put his glass to his mouth, taking a long, savoring sip before he spoke again.
“… Yeah, just me tonight,” he replied at last.
“I’m surprised. I thought you two were glued at the hip from how you’re always together in the Office,” Angelica joked. She picked up her own drink, finally delivered to her by the bartender, and swirled it around a little in the glass. “What does a guy like that do on his nights off, anyway? He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d like going out much, seeing as he never wants to take off that mask. Does he just stay at home and try new recipes all night? Or does he just live in a closet in the back of your Office somewhere until you pull him out?”
“He goes out… sometimes,” Olivier replied with a slight begrudgingness that told Angelica she was at least half-right. “He and I meet up to drink in our off-hours and hang out.”
“That’s surprising. He didn’t seem like the type.”
“You’d probably be surprised about what else he does on his off-hours. But you’re also not wrong about the cooking thing. It’s how he got so good at feeding the people in the Office. You tasted what he cooks, so you know he’s gotten the practice in.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that.” Angelica absently ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip, recalling the taste from that first dinner, and the ones that came after it. “It’s too bad he doesn’t do that more often, I’d like to see what else he can whip up.”
“Well, you two seem to be getting along pretty well,” Olivier said vaguely. “I’m sure after a while longer, you might be able to ask him.”
“Oh, do you think so?” Angelica asked this more casually, unconsciously twisting her glass in her hands. “Well, I guess you’d know him best. Maybe I should try it sometime. I’d like to see what kinds of challenges the Office’s master chef can take.” Angelica might have tried prying a little more, but another voice said her name. She sighed inwardly, realizing he was being pulled back into her group of origin. “Sorry to cut this short, but I don’t want to keep them waiting. See you two at the Office, then?”
“I’m sure he’ll look forward to it,” Olivier replied casually. “Have a good night.”
Angelica left him with a casual wave, and allowed herself to be folded back into her groups’ next topic of conversation. Though at the back of her mind, she found herself thinking of various types of cuisines, and wondering what it might be fun to test that guy with.
Olivier waited until Angelica was a decent distance away, sipping on his drink to make it seem like he wasn’t paying attention. Until, when he deemed her suitably far enough, he smirked, and leaned over to his side. Where a gloomy-looking man wearing a black cloth mask that clung to his face from nose to chin had slouched behind his beer like it and Olivier’s shadow combined would be enough to hide him.
“You hear that? She’ll be looking forward to trying more of your cooking. Maybe you should start thinking up a menu,” Olivier smirked, giving his friend a teasing nudge in the ribs with his elbow.
“Shut up, Olivier,” Roland muttered, turning his face so Olivier wouldn’t see the faint tinge of pink that crept up his cheeks to peek over the edges of his mask.