“What's up, Princess Tinkerbell?”
“Abby!” I shouted as I ran through the crowded living room, elbowing extinguishers out of my way, to hug my friend.
“Hey, Count Tightass,” Abby chucked Tiernan in the shoulder after she got free of me. “How's it hanging?”
“Everything hangs as it should, thank you,” Tiernan smiled at her. “Torquil is around- ah,” Tiernan smiled wider as Torquil came up and handed Abby a can of soda. “And here he is now.”
“I was getting the lady a drink,” Torquil said stiffly.
“Thanks, Torque,” Abby kissed his cheek.
“Extinguisher Abby,” Torquil sighed. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me by my whole name?”
“Two-thousand-five-hundred-sixty-eightand a half,” she said with stone-faced sincerity.
“What?” Torquil gaped at her.
“She's joking,” I whispered to Torquil as Tiernan chuckled.
“Oh, I'm a joke to you,” he said to Abby as he straightened. “I understand,” he turned on his heel and tried to leave but Abby wasn't having any of that.
“Relax, I only tease men who I like,” she huffed as she grabbed his arm and swung him around.
He started to protest again but then she took his face in her hands and laid one on him. Tiernan and I gaped, in fact most of the room stopped to stare as Abby committed social suicide in front of us. What was so wrong with kissing Torquil? Well nothing, if you were anyone other than an extinguisher. Extinguishers married other extinguishers. Period. You didn't date anyone outside the group, you didn't sleep with anyone outside the group, you didn't even kiss anyone outside the group. To do so was a declaration of dissent against centuries of tradition. It was a slap in the face of our ancestors. An act of insubordination that could get you into serious trouble. And Abby had just done it at the worst possible moment.
The thing was; nobody did anything. No one shouted for justice or cursed her for being a traitor. Nothing happened except a lot of staring and the most aggressive response I'd ever seen from Torquil. He picked Abby up, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the elevator.
My mouth dropped further.
“I don't know what surprises me more,” I finally said. “Torquil running off with Abby like he's Conan the Barbarian, or Abby letting him do it.”
“Yes,” was all Tiernan could get out.
“I definitely need a drink now,” I headed for the bar in the corner of the room.
“Make mine a double,” Tiernan said.
“She's been waiting months to do that,” Councilman Karmen Simmel sidled over to us and started pouring the drinks. “And she stole the name I was gonna call you,” he pouted.
“You're still here?” I grinned, unbelievably happy to see a familiar face that wasn't kissing a fairy, grim with anxiety, or spewing venomous words at me.
“I asked to stay,” he shrugged. “I know it's cliché, a gay man in SF, but I'm happy to be home. And how are you, you silver-eyed fox?” He asked Tiernan.
“Tired but otherwise fine,” Tiernan smiled and accepted the drink Karmen handed him. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Sweetie,” Karmen purred.
“Brandon just called him a fairy fag,” I blabbed.
“Oooh a fairy fag?” Karmen straightened. “Do you know where I could find one of those?”
“What the hell is going on here?” I gaped at him. “Did Murdock decree that extinguishers should now date fairies?”
“Not exactly,” Karmen shrugged. “But after you became princess, people started to talk, saying that mixing our blood might be a good idea. Look what it did for you after all.”
“So that's why no one has commented on Abby's ardent display?” Tiernan asked.
“Yep,” Karmen came around to the front of the bar and leaned against it casually. He batted his long lashes up at Tiernan and flicked a thick lock of dark hair over an ear. “No one's come out and made a statement but the wholemarry an extinguisher thingwas never really a law anyway. Not that it's ever mattered to me, being a councilman, and a Simmel, and agay,” he said the last word with a flourish.
