Jeffrey awoke with a pounding headache, and a very strong feeling that he didn't know quite why he'd woken up in the first place. His entire body ached, his eyes lids felt heavy with sleep, and he could still catch the last inklings of his dream as it crept serenely from his memory. Biting back a groan he flung the bed covers back and slid off the mattress, staggering toward the door with one large hand clutching at his head. He ran his tongue over the grime collecting on the surface of his teeth and pushed open the door.
Shar and Cy were just barely visible from down the hall, talking in hushed voices to one another. There was a heavy thud near the vicinity, but Jeffrey could not see past the corner of the hall to see what the noise was. He suspected, even through the throbbing haze of a hangover, that whatever it was the source of his untimely wakefulness.
"What-ho, what-ho, what-ho! Jeffrey still in bed?" the unmistakable sound of McKale's voice floated down the hall.
"Yes,” said Shar. He was leaning forward curiously, his head cocked a little to the right.
Cy took no pretenses in being subtle and leapt up from her seat, trotting across the room and out of Jeffrey's line of sight.
"What are those?"
McKale let out a squeak, and there was the sound of rustling plastic,” You can't look! That'd ruin the surprise!"
"Surprise? What surprise? What's-."
McKale let out another squeak and took off across the room, he wheeled around the corner, clutching bags and hat to his head. He didn't even see Jeffrey lingering outside his bedroom door and crashed right into him. Bags went flying to the floor, some of their contents spilling out into the hall. Jeffrey quickly averted his gaze away from them, knowing, full well, what they were.
Christmas presents.
McKale didn't even bother picking himself up before turning to frantically scoop various knick-knacks back into his bags. He managed to wrangle everything into their proper places and shimmy, with no little difficulty, to his feet. He tried very hard to keep all the packages behind his back, but the sheer number of them made the feat rather impossible. Instead, he shifted his feet awkwardly and shot Jeffrey a grin,” What-ho, Jeffrey. Sleep well?"
Jeffrey's brow furrowed, sending another sharp pang through his head. He sucked in a deep breath and cradled his brow in his hand,” Indeed, sir."
"All the effects of dubious drinking thingummies worn off, what?"
"Indeed, sir."
McKale squinted at him, and Jeffrey stared back with the one eye that wasn't covered by his hand. He (being McKale that is, not Jeffrey), chewed his lip,” Are you quite all right, Jeffrey old thing?"
"I believe, sir, I am suffering a headache."
"Oh...oh! Of course!"
Shar appeared at their side, grasping a cup of water in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. He cleared his throat a little to capture the pair's attention.
"Ah,"said McKale, staring down at the proffered objects,” Perhaps it would be best if you went back to bed then, what?"
Shar nodded in agreement.
"Sleep off the headache, and all that."
Shar bobbed his head a second time, a smile teasing the corner of his scaly lips.
Jeffrey took the glass and cloth, pressing it to his brow. The coolness of it was a welcome relief from his own, burning hand,” Perhaps I shall, sir." Good god, did he ever want to. He was tired and hurting and every nerve in his body tingled from the excess residue of...whatever that strange, foreign drink had been,” Will you be requiring my services before I retire, sir?"
"No, no, certainly not Jeffrey,"McKale gave him a pat on the shoulder, pushing him gently toward the open bedroom door,” You rest, old thing, I'll be wrapping presents,” he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Very well, sir,” Jeffrey stumbled back into the room, and McKale eased the door shut behind him.
Silence descended around the little hall, broken only by the pitter-patter of Cy's feet as she trekked down toward them.
"Presents?” said Cy, craning her neck and letting a wide, toothy grin to stretch itself out across her muzzle.
"I say!" said McKale, hoisting the bags up over his forearms so he could properly plant his fists on his hips,” You mean to say Jeffrey's never told you about Christmas?"
Shar and Cy exchanged a glance. Shar cleared his throat a little and stepped forward,” No, but-"
McKale let out a crow and dropped the bags on the floor (carefully, this time, so all their contents stayed perfectly concealed) and flung an arm around each dragon.
"Christmas,” he started with a grin,” Is the most wonderful time of the year. You see, this jolly old German fellow with rosy cheeks and a big cherry nose comes down your chimney and-"
Jeffrey's bedroom door opened, and Jeffrey stood in the way, hair and nightclothes (as he'd bothered to change into them now that he had control over himself again) disheveled. He looked down to see three pairs of eyes staring back at him.
McKale frowned,” What-ho, Jeffrey. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"Indeed, sir, but I'm finding the activity rather difficult."
"Oh?" McKale cocked his head quizzically,” Why’s that Jeffrey, what can we do for you?"
"I do not wish to speak brashly, Sir, but...I believe it would be easier for me to sleep if there was not quite so much...noise, directly outside the room in which I am trying to sleep in ."
"Oh. Oh!" McKale flushed and scurried to his feet, snatching the bags up as she went,” Right-ho, Jeffrey. Terribly sorry about that,” he turned back to Shar and Cy,"Why don't we bung off to my room and I'll tell you all about old Saint Nick whilst I wrap presents?"
"Saint Nick? Who's Saint Nick?"
Shar opened his mouth, ready to speak.
"Santa Claus of course!" McKale chortled,” No objections, Jeffrey, old thing?"
"Certainly not, sir."
McKale shot him a mock salute and marched off toward his room, presents, and dragons, in tow,” Saint Nick, or Santa Claus, rather, is the jolly old German fellow who gives you all the presents. Well, not all of them, obviously, but most of them. He goes all about the globe, Earth that is, in his bright red sleigh, pulled by eight- Is it eight Jeffrey?"
"Nine with Rudolph,” said Shar.
"The most famous reindeer of all!" McKale chuckled again and sauntered into his bedroom.
Shar shot Jeffrey a look from over his shoulder, grimacing. Jeffrey shook his head, offering a minute smile before sinking back into his own room. Shar turned away, sucking in a deep breath, and strode onward after Cy and McKale.
.:.:.::.:.:.
When Jeffrey woke up for the third time that day he knew immediately why he had done so. The doorbell rang. His headache had subsided to nothing more than a dull pain behind his eyes and he felt...rested (and sober, which was a great relief, although it did nothing to help his mood. Whether McKale wanted it or not he would have to turn in his resignation). He waited with his hand folded neatly on his chest for someone to answer the door.
Neglecting his duties as a valet. There was something else to add to said resignation form when the time came.
There was a patter of feet and he watched out of the corner of his eye as a shadow slunk passed the door and down the hall. The main door was wrenched open, and he could hear Shar's quiet voice mutter a note of greeting.
A deeper voice replied, muffled and hard. He couldn't hear what the stranger said, nor tell who it was, but, out of the muffled garble of words he did catch his own name.
"Is Mr. Eldon here?"
Jeffrey felt Shar's mind ease against his own.
.:Jeffrey?:.
Jeffrey answered with a general tone of acknowledgment, no words, simply a feeling.
.:There's a not-so-jolly looking German here to see you:. his mind-voice was tinged with no little amount of sarcasm.
Jeffrey blinked up at the ceiling, brow furrowed.
It could not be Erich Bishop. Bishop was back on earth, managing his duty as a diplomat and ambassador with one hand, and faithfully keeping his brothel in perfect, working order. Bishop was not, and had no reason to, be present in Star City. The man hated cultural mosaics, finding them hard to navigate, and, what's more, harder to manipulate as a whole.
Erich Emmanuel Bishop would not be caught dead in Star City.
"Shar?" McKale's voice swiveled down the hall way, followed by his footsteps and Cy's,"Who is it?"
Silence descended, and Jeffrey finally managed to coax his body out from under the covers. He grabbed his robe as hurried toward the door. He didn't get a chance to open it.
It swung open with force, smashing against the opposite wall. Jeffrey leapt back just in time to keep it from adding a broken nose to his list of current ailment. He stumbled backward, regaining his poise only when his calves were pressed back against the mattress.
Two very large, bald men stood in the doorway, both wearing long, fur coats made of tiger pelt. They scowled across at him, their chunky arms curled over their thick chests, bright eyes narrowed just enough to give them a pinched and dangerous look. Jeffrey held firm and lifted his chin, frowning.
What he wouldn't do to have a suit on.
A smaller man, though no shorter than Jeffrey, managed to slide between the pair and saunter into the room, followed by McKale, who was wagging a finger animatedly and "I Say"-ing quite loudly for all to hear. Shar and Cy scampered in behind them both and made their way to Jeffrey's side, Shar reaching up to grasp his bond's hand.
"Mister Bishop,” said Jeffrey, locking eyes with the other man.
He was tall, pale, and dark haired, sporting a white suit, opera gloves, and a long metal cane, the tip of tarnished silver, formed into the intricately detailed shape of a dragon's head. He curled his fingers around the thing's maw and let a smile curl his pale lips,” Jeffrey."
The German accent was unbearably thick.
"I say!" said McKale, finally managing to twist his body through the thick wall of Bishop's body guards. He stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet until he reached Jeffrey, clutching his arm momentarily as he gained his balance,” I say, Jeffrey, do you know this,” his eyes flit up and down Bishop's form,” This chap."
"He does,” said Bishop, smirking,” But vhat he doesn't know is why I'm here, is this not correct?"
Jeffrey pressed his lips together, stepping forward just enough to just his hands out in front of both McKale and his bonds. It was a subtle gesture, but Bishop caught it and gave a deep-throated chortle, pressing his finger to his lips as he did so.
"Come now, Jeffrey. We are old friends, are we not?"
Swallowing hard Jeffrey...nodded his head,” Why are you here, Mr. Bishop?"
"Mr. Bishop!" Bishop laughed again,” Erich, Jeffrey, please."
"....Erich."
"I am looking for someone,” said Erich, trailing into the room and crooking a finger at the two men to follow him. The end of his cane 'clinked' each time it hit the carpet,” And, more than that, I am looking to get away from someone.
When I heard you were staying here, I thought what better place to begin my search and find refuge." His eyes, dark and blue, flitted over each figure in the room, before finally landing on McKale,"Your employer, I presume?"
McKale stepped forward, passed the protective barrier of Jeffrey's barely-there hand. He offered a hand to shake before Jeffrey hastily pulled him back. McKale let out a sharp squeak and stumbled back onto the mattress.
Jeffrey stepped forward,"Mr Bishop, Erich, I don't believe it would be wise for you to stay here."
"Oh?" Erich arched an eyebrow, smirking,” Why not, Jeffrey?"
McKale leapt to his feet, eyes wide,” I know who you are!"
Erich's gaze returned to McKale, and his smirk softened,"Oh?"
"You're Erich Emman-"
In an instant Shar had shifted into a taller, humanoid form and wrapped his arms around McKale, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth. He shoved him toward the exit, jerking his head at Cy to follow them. Neither Bishop nor his body guards attempted to stop them, and Jeffrey let out a sigh of relief at their retreat.
Erich, too, craned his neck at his bodyguards, signaling for them to leave. With a half-bow each they left the room, easing the door shut behind them.
Erich planted himself on the bed, grinning and toying with the end of his cane,” Now, Jeffrey, why do you think it's so improbable for me to stay here?"
Jeffrey stiffened and backed away from the bed until his felt the heels of his feet press against the opposite wall,” I don't want anything to do with you, or your business, Erich. Either one of them."
Erich pouted a little, just a little, before letting his smirk encompass his lips again. He slid off the bed and moved toward Jeffrey. He pressed a gloved finger to Jeffrey's collarbone, sliding it up his neck, across his chin, and resting it on his lips,” Come now, Jeffrey, it vill only be for a few nights."
Jeffrey's heart hammered in his chest, his breaths were coming in short, gasping spurts now. He willed himself to calm down, refusing to let himself press back any further against the door. Refusing to allow himself to look away. He knew Erich too bloody well to let himself do that.
"No, Mr. Bishop, he raised a hand and gripped Erich's wrist, forcing him away,” It is not only improbable, but impossible."
"Oh?" Erich grinned and leaned forward, not enough to make them touch, but now Jeffrey could feel the body heat pouring off of him. Erich hadn't tried to remove his wrist from Jeffrey's grip, and Jeffrey' hadn't bothered to let go.
Yet.
"Miss...sir....McKale would never allow it."
"Oh," Erich's brow arched and he cocked his head a little. He eased his wrist from Jeffrey's grip and turned toward the door,” In that case, I believe I shall have to ask your employ-"
"No!" Jeffrey slid across the wall, placing himself between Erich and the door.
Erich feigned surprise, stepping back a little and pressing a hand to his lips,” No, Jeffrey? Vill you allow me to stay then?"
No. He couldn't. He didn't want anything to do with Bishop. He didn't want him anywhere near McKale or his bonds. Although, he trusted Shar to be able to take care of himself, and Cy was too smart to allow herself to be manipulated by Erich Bishop. But McKale...
McKale was little more than a sitting duck with him in their house.
"Jeffrey, I dislike waiting,” Erich cooed in a sing-song voice, running a finger back and forth over the curved horns of his cane.
Jeffrey felt his muscles go lax and he looked away.
"Mm,"Erich smiled.
"Stay away from McKale, Mr. Bishop, and my bonds."
"But not you, Jeffrey?" Erich sauntered closer, breathing warm air over Jeffrey's neck,” You don't want me to stay away from you?"
Jeffrey turned back to him.
Their lips brushed.
Jeffrey's breath caught in his throat and he pressed himself against the door, inching his hand toward the doorknob.
"Of course not you,” said Erich, swooping closer until there was nothing more than a hair's breath between them. He lifted a hand, cupping Jeffrey's cheek,” How could I be so silly."
A groan tore itself from Jeffrey's throat and his hand flew from the doorknob to the back of Bishop's head, shoving him forward and crushing their lips together.
Bishop chuckled gently against Jeffrey's mouth.