"It's easy now," Lazarus said, settling onto a stool. Kurby's good cheer was catching.

The living had one life of experience worrying about vampires. Lazarus had that thrice over that to get used to it. Maybe Kurby Bagnold needed more time, thinking about what was easy or not for Lazarus, having a mind about his back. Or maybe Kurby knew something Lazarus didn't. The vampire took a moment to consider, looking over his shoulder at nothing, then back at Kurby.

Lazarus chuckled. "Easy for me. I'm not causing you trouble, am I? Maybe a little paperwork'll calm everyone down."

The vampire, wise in some ways and naive in others, was having a hard time following. He wondered what it was Kurby Bagnold thought he'd want. His involvement went against the grain, and maybe it'd caused some unintentional friction.

"Half of getting along with people is avoiding people you don't get along with," he said with a fade in his grin.

The werewolf hunter shrugged, raising his glass of gin and tonic water to take a sip.  “The other half’s not givin’ a damn if you do or not,” he retorted.

In the end, he didn’t really care what anyone else at the Ministry thought about this, nor did he care what kind of storm he might personally have to face.  What mattered most was keeping people safe.  Tawse had raised the stakes with the direwolves, and the WCU’s old tactics were no longer enough to accomplish their goal.  If Lazarus was willing to join with them to help, then Kurby would willingly take whatever heat he needed to in order to protect the vampire and permit his assistance to happen.

He took another swallow from his drink, and then set the empty glass back down on the counter.

“Well, the offer’s open,” he said, looking over at Lazarus.  “You decide it falls in with your idea of civic duty and you want to talk about it, then let me know.  But no hard feelings either way, mate.”

      “The other half’s not givin’ a damn if you do or not."

Bagnold's response hit the languid vampire like a smack and he held on his hat as if it would fall off. Mortal life was a swarm and swell, constant movement, violence and joy, eating, screaming, hating, loving. But you exist long enough and things slow down and the solitude of night life mutes the furor.

"Ooof."

He scratched his chin, thinking. He'd been feeling accomplished having done what felt like net worth good for them who yet took breath, but any goodwill could be rapidly lost. The coincident of his sulking about with the German muggle on the same night some other ghoul had a wild time[1] would be enough for any wet-blooded wand-waver to polish a pitchfork. If Bagnold knew about either incident, he didn't let on, unless this exchange was a kind of response. A late prevention or an early intervention.

Lazarus's voucher stopped half the vampires in the room from leering at Bagnold. Seemed that what Bagnold was offering was the same arrangement. Reckless maybe, leaving doors open this part of night, but not feckless. Bagnold wanted to make good.

"Could be worthy. Worthy a thought or two."

He stood up from the counter and tipped his hat back again then extended his hand by way of parting.

"I'll let you know."

1.	25 Dec 2011 - Dry Christmas

Giving it a thought or two was the most that Kurby would ask of him.  He rose to his feet and reached across, returning Lazarus's grip firmly.

He'd shaken a vampire's hand before -- with Lazarus when he'd seen him at the zoo, and with Hooker just a bit ago -- but somehow, this time, the otherness was what stood out.  Skin that was too cold to be natural, not a single sign of a pulse pumping blood beneath the surface.  Vampires might look human under the right set of circumstances, but it was a stark reminder that whatever they looked like, they were truly something else.

But that wasn't necessarily the same as being malevolent.  Laz had faced down a direwolf with him twice now, and the vampires had been perfectly hospitable to his visit.  The undead clearly had a different culture than their living magical kin, but so did Muggles and Muggleborns.  Half the time, he felt like he was navigating some unknown foreign landscape even when he was just walking through the Ministry.

"Cheers," he said, as he turned to go.  "Happy New Year, mate."

With a polite flick of a salute in Hooker's direction, the werewolf hunter headed back out into the night.