MC/Mal date day

A/N This is part of the Baron tier shorts

There was a place midway up the Eternal Staircase that jutted off into its own district. An alley that was easily missed unless one knew what they were looking for, was etched into the side of a wall, blending in with the dim light and the rest of the flagstone walls all around. It dipped downwards, plunging into darkness, and most who even ventured within the alleyway had to measure their steps with faith. Confident in the knowledge that they would not fall into eternal darkness. 

It was what I was doing now. I had checked and checked again and was suddenly cursing myself for not having agreed to walk here with Malcolm. Instead, I was meeting him. Because I wanted it to be more of a date. Not just the two of us leaving the house together. There were a few things about our relationship we had skipped, given who we were, and now that life had settled, I wanted to set them right.

Blinking, I tried to peer through the dark, hoping that I was going the right way. I kept my hand on the wall, walking until there was nothing before or behind me. In a rare twist, Malcolm and I somehow had more than two nights off together at the same time. We had spent those days resting, barely leaving his house, and recuperating from having far too much to do. But on the morning of the third day, I realized I had never taken Malcolm out on a date. He had taken me on plenty. A picnic in the middle of the Emerald Pond. Dinner and a show down in Vaudeville. And even tea on the rooftop terraces that overlooked the market. But I had never done anything for him.

He had mentioned a spot once. Back when we had first gotten together. A little music hall that was on the Eternal Staircase. After asking around, I found it still functioning. Albeit, a little slower than before.  But I had set my plan into place then, requesting it be cleaned up. Renovated. And for the band to play loud tonight. Then, I had told Malcolm to meet me there. Dress in his nicest clothes. The light that entered his eyes was one I had never seen.

And now I might be late because I was somehow stuck within eternal darkness, trying to find my way to a spot I only vaguely knew the location of.

Hours, minutes, maybe even seconds later, the light began to glow on my behalf. Maybe the market sensed me, or maybe I had chosen the right path. Either way, the light was faint at first and I assumed my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was blue. The same color as my skin. I had to wave my arm around just to see if I had somehow put my hand in front of my face without knowing. But this had a certain tinge to it, and as I walked closer and closer, the alley became alive. Bright neon signs lined the walls, while the lanterns above were strung in tiny green and blue musical notes.  Each one pulsed with a beat. One that I could hear if I listened close enough.  And the people. There were so many people. Individuals of every variety, milling about in their finest, dancing in the streets and disappearing inside open archways down into small clubs below.

I spotted Mal’s almost immediately. The Broken Tune.  Stepping inside, I was met with an arena. A wide open dance floor in the middle with large leather booths surrounding it. A band was playing high up on the rafters and off to one side sat a wrap around black bar, backlit so each bottle on the wall shone green, amber and violet.  Malcolm was easy to spot. He sat in a booth near the back, eyes closed as he listened to the band. It was something big and brassy with a loud beat. A small smile was on his face. I walked over to him, standing and just staring at him for a long moment.

When he opened his eyes, he grinned. “Hey, Lamplight.”

“Hey stranger,” I whispered, feeling my words catch in my throat. “Can I buy you a drink?”

He laughed a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  “In a minute. Sit with me. This song is good.”

I sat down next to him, the leather creaking as I slid close. Wrapping my arm around him, I felt him lean back into me. It was uncharacteristic of Mal to partake in public displays of affection. Especially when he was on the receiving end. But the music wrapped around him so tightly that he didn’t care.

“I can’t believe they are still her,” he murmured. His foot was tapping in time with the beat.

“The club?”

“Yeah. I thought for sure it would have disappeared while I was gone. Don’t know why. I just thought… I don’t know.”

He had been afraid to look. It was precious to him. A sanctuary. And it would have broken his heart to see it gone forever.

A woman came up to us as we sat and listened, setting down a bottle of something fizzy. Malcolm looked up at her, but she only smiled. “Compliments of the Night Market,” she said.

He turned to me, eyeing me as he reached for the bottle. A snort of laughter escaped him. It was placed in a wine bottle, but was a pressed cranberry tea. Malcolm rarely drank, but liked to keep up the social appearances of doing so. 

“You?” he asked.

“I called in a favor of to. For example,” I took him by the hand, my eyes ticking up towards the band.

A song startled playing. Something soft and sweet. It was a yearning tune, weaving throughout the room in a gentle sway. Next to me, Malcolm tipped his head to the side. It then hit him, all at once. 

Back before I was here, back when I had been nothing more than the lights, Malcolm had sat on a rooftop, playing this song to me over and over. Telling me that I could become real if I could just listen to music. That music made up a soul. He had been young and lonely, and had desperately hoped that the sentience he saw in me was more than just hope on his end.  I had never heard the song again.  Not until now.

“You remembered,” he whispered.

“How could I forget.”

I wanted to pull him to the floor to dance. To take him in my arms. But I knew that was not how Malcolm listened to music. No. He listened to it with his entire body. Transcending time. Leaving the present.  With his eyes closed, he swayed next to me, lips slightly parted. He was the most beautiful man I think I had ever seen.

The song ended too soon. The band nodded towards us before switching back to their Big Band set. Malcolm turned to me, however, a light shining in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Reverently.

“You do so much for me. I wanted to give you something in return. Make another good memory here.”

“This tops them all.

We didn’t dance that night. Instead, we sat with our heads bowed close, listening to the sets play. As the band finished, and the hall began to close for the night, we sat, watching the cleanup. Listening to the employees laugh and the band pack away their instruments. Malcolm nodded to a few of them, their click of surprise at his presence lighting their eyes. I couldn’t help but feel warmth as they came over to us, expressing their delight at his return.

But what I remembered most of that night, what I would always take with me, was the fact that Malcolm held my hand. When people came near, when a few sat and chatted with us, he never moved away from me. He pressed himself close. And I could feel his happiness.

It made me feel alive.