He was glad that she'd kept some sense of normalcy in the fallout that had followed their departure. It was good to know she'd had the others to lean on when he husband hadn't been able to give her that.
Though he followed her, his movement was slowed, the apprehension he'd first felt when he looked at the club growing. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the establishment yet...to see the faces from the past and smell the old familiar smells that had once welcomed him.'
She didn't leave him a choice, however, opening the door and disappearing inside. He cast a final look at Eleanor, as if to draw encouragement from the beloved machine. His gaze flicked suspiciously on the Renegade once more, and then he faced the inevitable. He went inside.
Just as he'd suspected, the old smells hit him and transported him to a time far away from here. Booze, smoke, and fried food, mixed with that underlying aroma he'd never been able to place but had always found comfort in. It was coming home.
He nodded as she slipped away with her bag, moving to the end of the bar and taking a seat. He looked around, noticing the place hadn't changed too much. It disturbed him...this was like stepping back in time. He almost expected Sphinx to round the corner with a roughed-up drunk and toss him out on the street, or for Toby to waltz in, full of bright eyed good cheer.
She slipped beside him, and he removed a cigarette from his pack. He lit it, setting his lighter on the bar. The damn habit would kill him one day, he was sure...and at the rate he was smoking, it'd be sooner rather than later. "What's your poison?" He said finally, pulling an ashtray closer and ashing his smoke. He hadn't been in the mood for a drink five minutes ago, but being back inside this place had changed that in a jiffy.
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