It was a typical Friday night at the Old Saxophone, one of the few jazz clubs in London that had an amateur night.  Every Friday they allowed the patrons to come up and perform; it was like jazz karaoke without the machine.  Most of the people who got up to sing or play were predictably terrible.  Occasionally someone would get up who was good enough to make the entire room stop and listen but they were few and far between. 

Michael fell where the majority did; he was okay but not great.  Still, he enjoyed the music.  He enjoyed having the chance to play in front of a crowd of people who appreciated the same music he did.  When his turn came, he pulled out his saxophone, got up to the microphone and let it[1] rip.

1.	http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXvT05mrADk

Kia had been nursing a cocktail in the back booth of the club for over an hour now, wondering why she was even there. It was months since she had run into Archie at High Hat Harry's and she had been avoiding Jazz club amateur nights ever since, which had been harder than she expected. The rush of adrenaline she had gotten singing as Miss Scarlett at Harry's was intoxicating and she had been feeling the withdrawals since she hung up her red dress. But the part of her that longed to be on stage was eclipsed by the much stronger fear that she would be ridiculed off of it, which was silly considering that some of the acts up there were downright atrocious to the point of leaving bleeding ears. Many of the patrons were elderly too, longing to live in the simpler times of their childhoods, so she doubted they would judge her as harshly as she did. Nevertheless, the idea of venturing up there left her stomach reeling.

That wasn't the only problem. The other problem was the person taking the stage now, an alto sax slung around his neck. His name, she was almost positive, was Micheal. She didn't know him well since she normally stuck to herself and was probably hated by her other coworkers, or at least that was what she assumed was why no one really talked to her. Not that she was complaining, just that she felt pretty out of place and unwelcome at times. Which was why when she overheard him talking about going to a Jazz club to play tonight, she hadn't had the guts to outright ask him where and when. Instead, like a stalker[1], she had looked up the place and had shown up right before Amateur night started.

She had planned to bump into him and act all cool, like it was just a coincidence they ended up at the same club. But when she saw him there, confidently playing a rather good solo on stage, she felt herself lose a little nerve. She wasn't Kale. She couldn't just pretend to be a social butterfly and crack bad jokes that people still, somehow, found funny. She couldn't flirt either, though she wasn't sure why that even came to mind. In a nutshell, when it came to social interaction, she was about as effective as a bacon and ice cream diet for a diabetic. But when someone who had at least some of the same background as you (Muggle family members and hunting werewolves) announced that they also liked one of your favorite past times, you shouldn't... no, you couldn't pass up a chance to connect. Kia just hoped that if she managed to work up the nerve to speak with him that he wouldn't deduce that she had stalked him here and think she was a creeper.

Uh oh, the music stopped. It was now or never. Either she went up and congratulated him on his solo, or she left like a coward. Kia finished off her watered down cocktail and made sure to toss some muggle money on the table before she headed towards the bar. No one in the Ferris family was a coward. Not her mother Celestine, the auror who died in battle. Not her father Sean, the dragon tamer. Not her brother Kale, the healer who nearly died by a werewolves claws. And most certainly not Kia, the werewolf hunter. She let this train of pep talk, and probably a good amount of the alcohol, fill her with confidence as she made her way over to Micheal.

"Hi... Hey... um... don't I know you from work?" She said as she took a spot next to him at the bar and spoke in such a confident manner that she even surprised herself, "Micheal right? Beautiful improv there... I didn't know you were a sax player" Merlin, she was even smiling.

1.	which she totally wasn't.

Michael smiled.   He'd given one of his best performances and was feeling quite pleased with himself.   "Thank you,"  he said.  "Kia, isn't it?  Fourth floor?  I didn't know you were into jazz.  I would have asked you to come along one of these nights."

He didn't know Kia well, barely well enough to recognize her.  It didn't surprise him that he hadn't known she was into jazz.  "Can I buy you a drink?  I'd ask if you came here often but it would sound like too much of a come on, so I'll just say that I haven't seen you here before.  First time or have we just been missing each other?"

He ordered a gin and tonic, then looked at Kia to see if she was going to order.  "Are you an old school jazz fan or do you like the new stuff?"

"Thank you, Kia, isn't it?  Fourth floor?  I didn't know you were into jazz.  I would have asked you to come along one of these nights."

"It's okay, most people don't know..." She said lightly, surprised he even knew her name considering that most of her coworkers knew her as that 'angry girl who glares at everyone and broke that one guys nose waiting for her interview'. She wondered what he had heard about her, which she assumed was mostly bad things, but when she looked up at him, he didn't seem to be looking at her with prejudice or dislike. Her shoulders loosened a little.

 "Can I buy you a drink?  I'd ask if you came here often but it would sound like too much of a come on, so I'll just say that I haven't seen you here before.  First time or have we just been missing each other?"

"Oh...Haha..." She forced a nervous laugh and tucked some hair behind her ear in an awkward gesture while she tried to think up a good excuse of why she had never been there before. Saying 'I was eavesdropping on you at work and stalked you here' sounded not only like a come on, but an incredibly creepy one. So she instead gave a half-hearted shrug "No, it's my first time... I heard around the office there was going to be an amateur night and thought I would check it out. I guess you were the one who told them... haha..." God, she was bad at lying. But, technically, it wasn't a lie right? She did hear it at the office, after all.

"Are you an old school jazz fan or do you like the new stuff?"

"Um... uh... Long Island Ice Tea" She listed off the first thing she saw on the drink menu, figuring something with tea in it couldn't be too strong, before she turned and tried to give him a warm smile, which came out more like a flash of a smirk "Mostly the old stuff. Old Jazz standards... I prefer lyrical rather then strictly instrumental. Although, I did enjoy your solo. Improv isn't my favorite type, but there is always a piece or two I enjoy..." She trailed off a little here, surprised at how freely she was speaking. It had to be the longest string of words she had strung together in front of a coworker since she threatened to neuter Archie.

"Ah, the dreaded forced nervous laugh,"  Michael said as he paid for the drinks.  "Don't worry Kia.  This is a place where we can both let our hair down.  We're away from work, so nothing from work matters, especially considering who we are surrounded by.  Now, are you talking Ellington/Basie/Goodman classics or more Armstrong/Holiday/Morton classics?"  He chuckled.  "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm a bit of a jazz fan.  I play because I enjoy it and I'll play just about anything."

He picked up the drinks, juggling the saxophone with practiced ease.  He navigated to a free table and sat down.  "I'm going to assume that you sing, rather than play.  Are you going to get up or are you just here to check the place out before you decide?"

Kia's mouth was parched. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling it was because he saw right through her attempts to hide her nervousness. Perhaps it was the lightness of his eyes (which, like her own, were difficult to read) that was making her nervous. It was like he was looking right through her. When her drink came, she thanked whatever god was watching over her and took it, taking a long gulp of what she assumed was going to be soothing, lightly-flavored tea. What she got was alcohol, copious amounts of it, that burned its way down her throat, nearly sending her into a coughing fit. "Ahem...Wow... that's... strong" She said softly to herself, blinking slowly as she tried to focus. Kia wasn't much of a drinker, having been turned off of it watching her brother nearly drown himself in liquor, so the cocktail had been enough to give her a buzz. This was doing much more.

It was then she realized that Michael was still talking to her, inquiring about her tastes in Jazz. It wasn't that she didn't have them, just that she was having a hard time thinking straight enough to explain. So she was thankful when he followed it up with a different topic. That is, until she heard the topic.

"I'm going to assume that you sing, rather than play.  Are you going to get up or are you just here to check the place out before you decide?"

"Oh.. No no... I... don't si--" She started to say rather too quickly, suddenly aware that if she told him the truth, he would probably peer pressure her into going up there and making a fool of herself. Again. However, before she could finish, a clearly drunk man[1]sauntered up to them with a big grin on his face and a napkin in his hand "Oh...'Ey... Yer Miss Scarlett, right? The girl who sings at 'Igh 'At 'Arry's?"

Kia, realizing she was going to fail at bluffing her way out of this one, simply flushed. The man took this as an admission of guilt and shoved the napkin at her "I know you ain't no celebrity or nothing, but I would like yer auto...automagraph..." Licking her lips, Kia kept her eyes off of Michael, assuming he was laughing at her, and accepted the napkin as well as a pen the man fished out from the recesses of his thematically correct pinstriped jacket. She signed "Miss Scarlett" with a flourish completely alien to her handwriting and handed it back to him with a curt smile. Beaming, he stumbled off and she finally looked over at Michael, rather flustered.

"I guess you won't believe me now if I told you no, eh?" She said with a weak smile.

1.	Or perhaps she was tipsy enough to think that he was the one wobbling around, rather than her

"Well, when an adoring fan comes up and asks for your autograph, it's generally a dead giveaway,"  Michael replied with a chuckle.  He hadn't heard of Miss Scarlett, so he assumes that her fame was local, rather than more widely spread.    "Would I be wrong if I ventured the opinion that you are here, rather than there just for a change of pace?  Maybe planning on sitting incognito and enjoying the music, rather than singing?"

He held the chair for Kia, then sat down himself.  To have encountered a co-worker that was also a jazz fan was in intriguing coincidence.  He wondered what Vivian would think of it.  Kia had a quirkly charm, a shy vulnerability that made him want to protect her but if she was a member of the WCU, she certainly didn't need his protection.  The shyness seemed out of place, when placed against her obviously well known Miss Scarlett persona.  Perhaps singing was how she came out of her shell.

"Would I be wrong if I ventured the opinion that you are here, rather than there just for a change of pace?  Maybe planning on sitting incognito and enjoying the music, rather than singing?"

"Yes... and no... Kinda both?" Perhaps the alcohol had taken control of her mouth or she was just that much at ease with him, but Kia found herself admitting more than she would normally have told anyone, especially someone she didn't know well "... Originally I had wanted to join in, but honestly... I'm kinda scared." Wait, did she just admit that? What the hell was in this drink? And why couldn't she stop talking? It was as though her mouth had a mind of its own, and it was bent on embarrassing her "... I am not Miss Scarlett tonight... I can't just go up there and sing. People would probably laugh me off the stage...That's like... one of my worst nightmares"

Apparently her minds mind decided that was just enough humiliating for one day and with that, she fell silent and stirred the remainder of her tea with an intensity it probably didn't warrant.

Michael nodded.  "A lot of people get nervous in front of crowds.  I probably took several attempts and a lot of courage when you got up and sang for the first time.  Is there a prop you use when you are Miss Scarlett?  It's like Dumbo's magic feather.  You need it at first,  just to build your confidence.  Then, when you have some experience under your belt, you don't need the feather anymore.   Believe me, I was nervous as hell when I first got up to play.  I just lost myself in the music and when I was done, there was some polite applause."

He applauded a reasonable rendition of Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World but sat a little straighter when the next singer moved towards the mike.  "Pay attention to this one.  She does an absolutely amazing job of covering Shirley Bassey's History Repeating."  He half turned in his chair to get a better view of the stage, his fingers unconsciously seeking out the keys on his sax.

"Pay attention to this one.  She does an absolutely amazing job of covering Shirley Bassey's History Repeating."

Kia nodded, turning to watch a somewhat dumpy older woman take the stage. She didn't look like she was an exceptional singer who had the lungs to take on History Repeating, but Kia had barely formed this thought before she found herself being proven completely wrong. The woman's range and clarity was on par with many professional singers and even better than some. A bit rough around the edges, sure, but a few lessons with a voice coach and a makeover, she could be a star. It filled Kia with trepidation (Who could follow that?) and envy (Why couldn't she have that confidence?) but also a fair bit of inspiration.

As the song went on, Kia remained still and silent with the exception of her foot twitching in beat with the music. Her expression was largely unreadable as she drifted away in thought, considering her options. Part of her was daunted by the task of getting up on stage without her Ms. Scarlett persona to hide behind. So daunted it made her feel a bit ill, in fact. But the other part of her felt like she had to get up there to prove something. What and to who, she wasn't sure. She knew she didn't owe Michael or anyone else anything, but she felt like she did. Perhaps she needed to prove it to herself that she could.

It wasn't until the room burst into applause that Kia shook herself back to attention. She managed to get a few claps in before the applause died down and the singer left the stage, smiling sweetly as she accepted the applause quite humbly. It was like she hadn't nearly gotten a standing ovation at all. Kia felt that confusing surge of envy and admiration, and made a rare split second decision. Slamming her drink onto the bartop, she took a deep breath and readied herself "I'll do it...I'll get up there and sing..." She stated firmly before her resolve weakened somewhat "... If you get up there with me..." She didn't know why she felt the need to have him up there, but she did. He was a comrade she could trust during times of great danger, so why not on stage?

"Deal,"  Michael said.  "We'll just need to figure out what you can sing that I can play.  It's probably easier to go off your list, because a lot of mine is instrumental."  He grinned.  "Give me a name and I'll tell you what of their music I can play or you can just shoot for the classics.  Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald maybe?"


Michael was curious to hear her sing.  If she was recognizable by one of the regulars, then she had to have some kind of pipes.  Her nervousness spoke more of a lack of confidence than a lack of skill.  There were thousands of people who stood up and sang with no skill whatsoever.  To have skill but not confidence was a terrible dilemma to be in.

"... Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald maybe?"

Kia brightened up at his question, though the closest she got to showing it was the curling at the corner of her lips. Ella Fitzgerald was a favorite of hers, Billie Holiday being close behind, and she already had a song in mind. "I am thinking 'Making Whoopee'... I know it well and it has a great Sax solo for you... If you are up to it." She tried to hide her excitement at the prospect of taking a stage alongside someone, rather than alone. It made it seem a bit less terrifying, though the alcohol was helping with that as well.

 

Michael chuckled rakishly.  "I'm always up for 'Making Whoopee'," he said with a grin.  He was thinking of Vivian when he said it but there was no way Kia could know that.  "I can play it.  I'm not sure if I'm going to ace the solo but I can certainly give it a try.  I'll sign us up."

Michael's memory was pretty much photographic so he knew the song.  Whether he could get the notes from his memory to his fingers was another story.