Michael had seen Khaat go outside, and he had smelled the server's cologne too, and he knew exactly why it had triggered her. He decided to follow her outside and see if he could give Brian a hand. He didn't know if Brian would remember or not, but it seemed as though perhaps he had. He went outside and found she had encountered Robert and Kate arriving, but he could feel the humiliation she felt. It was thick enough around her that he could have cut it with a knife.
"Khaat," he called gently, coming up behind her. She turned and he saw her very frightened eyes. That prat server's cologne had brought her to be more frightened that he had ever, ever seen her be. This was not the Khaat he knew. Khaat Lupin could be a lot of things, but afraid was not one of them. If he ever caught Felix Barker, he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands. Hm. Pan had seemed as if he had an interest in such a mission. Perhaps he and Pan needed to hunt down Barker and give him a taste of his own medicine. He made a mental note to talk to Pan about that tonight.
He saw the look of relief come into Khaat's eyes as she realized it was Michael who had called to her. He simply walked up to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. "You alright, my dear?" he asked softly as she hid her face in his chest. She nodded. He could feel her deep gratitude that he was there tonight. "Come on. Its cold out here, and this idiot you're living with let you go out in that teeny tiny dress with a shawl in this bitter cold weather. He needs to be put in one of your father's jars for that. Come inside with me. We'll hex that server and put a stench on him or something." He turned her about and, his arm around her shoulder, he walked her back into the nightclub.
He saw the rather small gathering of friends and family, and he walked up to the bar, with Khaat in tow. "Come with me. Shall we get warmed up, Dear?" he asked her. She pointed to the firewhiskey up on the very top shelf. Jen's very best. The same her family kept at home. She had had a glass that Brian had bought her, but, well, if one glass was good, two was better. He smelled the Turkish cologne on a young server behind the bar who was looking warily at Khaat. MIchael was going to set some boundaries first with this young rude idiot before he hexed him. This was the lad's one chance.
"The lady would like a firewhiskey, please. And so would I," Michael ordered. The young man reached for the closest bottle of firewhiskey. The common, cheap blend.
"No, no," Michael said. "If I had wanted lighter fluid, I'd have asked for it. " The server glared at Michael. Michael reached in his pocket and put a number of sickles down on the bar, more than enough to pay for the bottle. "Let's try this again. Firewhiskey. And the lady wants top shelf." The server got down the bottle, and Michael snatched it from him, along with a couple of glasses. He handed Khaat the bottle and he grabbed the glasses. He walked over to a table and deposited the empty whiskey glasses on the table and took the bottle gently from her hand and put it with the glasses. He looked up at the stage where a young dark haired man with large doe eyes sat with a guitar.
"Hey, Celine! Know any dance music?" he called to the musician on the stage.
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