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[tragic_mask]

Arriving at the Visitor's Center, Melpomene takes a look around.

"Well, this is it. In all its touristic glory. "

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[mechanicalswans]

"Can you, now?" he asks, faintly surprised. "I should like to see that, sometime."

[tragic_mask]

"Oh, yes. And not just oranges and scarves, either. I will show you sometime, if you want."

She grins. "It's one of my lesser known skills."

[mechanicalswans]

"Don't ever give away all your lesser-known skills," he murmurs. "Keep a bit of mystery. But I do want to see you juggle, sometime. If we're ever penniless somewhere and need to perform on the street for money, I think you may have your talent..."

[tragic_mask]

"Trust me, there's plenty of mystery left."

She makes a face. "I hope never to be penniless, at least to the point that juggling is my only hope."

[mechanicalswans]

"But it's good to know you have something to fall back on," he says. "Me, I haven't got many performance abilities."

[tragic_mask]

"Well, you can tango all right," she says with a smile.

[mechanicalswans]

"Mmmm."

He grins. "Not by myself, though. It needs just the right partner for that."

[tragic_mask]

"That's certainly true," she says. "Takes two to tango, right?"

[mechanicalswans]

"Generally," he agrees. "But I do know other kinds of dances."

[tragic_mask]

"See, I just knew you had the performer's spirit in you."

[mechanicalswans]

"And if you get me drunk enough," he says in a quieter, conspiratorial tone, "sometimes I sing."

[tragic_mask]

"So I hear," she says wryly.

[mechanicalswans]

"You never know. There could be karaoke in your future."

A pause.

"I feel like I shouldn't admit to knowing pop songs."

[tragic_mask]

"No, you shouldn't. Completely destroys the tough-guy image."

[mechanicalswans]

"There really aren't any tough-guy pop songs," he muses. "Not anymore. And possibly never."

[tragic_mask]

"Can't imagine what that would sound like," she says, with a shudder. "Did you leave anything in the room, or should we go straight for the car?"

[mechanicalswans]

"I think I'd like to go up and check, just to make sure," he says. "Do you need to go too, or do you want to take the car keys?"

[tragic_mask]

She shrugs. "Don't think I left anything valuable. I can start the car."

[mechanicalswans]

"As you like," he says, offering her the car keys. "I'll only be a minute."

[tragic_mask]

She takes them, and walks out to the car. She soon has the motor running, and her feet up on the dashboard.

[mechanicalswans]

He returns a few minutes later, fastening his backpack as he walks over to the car.

"I left the housekeeping staff a tip," he says, climbing in. "Brighten their day a little."

[tragic_mask]

"Sweet of you," she says. "I guess they'll be forced to believe that you can take it with you. Unless it's ghost money."

[mechanicalswans]

"...no, but the hotel manager will be getting the ghost money," he says cheerily. "Unless he has already run the card through."

[tragic_mask]

"I see," she says mildly, pulling down the passenger-side seatbelt and buckling it over herself, conscientiously.

(Once burned, twice shy.)

[mechanicalswans]

He tosses his backpack into the back seat and fastens his seatbelt as well.

"Keep people on their toes," he says, and starts out of the parking lot.