Deidre and Harry walk together down the midnight street.  Each have their heads tilted to the pavement, hands deep in pockets.  They'd just left the pub after the show and are now walking back to their respective apartments.  The night is cool and still; a siren wails somewhere in the distance and Latin hip-hop drifts down from an apartment far above.

"Looks like we took in quite a haul tonight," Harry says.  He tries to chuckle lightly.  "I was actually afraid to take it all.  I don't think Flan's had any sort of crowd like that in a long while.  I'll count it up and put it in the bank tomorrow.  We can plan out the repairs from there, tomorrow night."

Deirdre nods.  "I have a meetin' t'morrow night with someone.  But yeah, we can start plannin' it out.  The specifics an' all.  Figger what we need, how much we have t' do what we want.

"I'm thinkin' 'bout formin' a band up.  I mean, I've had people t' play with an' such.  Nothin' permanent though.  I'll be postin' out an ad in the paper.

"I d'nae know if I'll have it all set up afore we open the club.  But I want t' start workin' on it.  'Haps start lookin' round fer auditioners while we're makin' the repairs."

"I had a feeling you'd be getting around to that sooner or later.  You've been writing music like a maniac.  Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'll give all the help I can.  I still know a few folks in the music biz, maybe I can pull in a few favors or something."

Harry reaches into his pocket and fishes out a cigarette.  He cups his hand around it as he lights then takes a long drag and puffs the smoke up into the night.

"I was thinking, if we have the money, to put in some new lighting as well.  If we can, I'd like to maybe run some DJs a few nights.  Draw in a bigger crowd if I can, open it up.  As much as I'd like to keep Thorns it's same old self, I guess I've come to the realization that it's not the same place, not after what happened.  And I think that might be a good thing maybe.  I mean, I don't want to seem like a sell-out.  I'm not really worried about that.  I still want it mostly to be a live venue.  But getting a few DJs in might be a good idea."

"Sounds like a good idea.  It'll help ye stay open a few more nights a week, instead of relyin' on when a band can play.

"I'm thinkin' we can have ourselves a little refurbishin' party, t' get people psyched up fer the openin' an' get the word out.  I've got about two dozen o' so people signed up wantin' t' help as they can.  We can have 'em come in an' help paint an' a few things.  Can start sendin' out the word 'bout th' auditions too."

They turn down a side street and continue walking.  A beat-up station wagon cruises by, and from an alley there's the sound of a raccoon or stray cat sifting through garbage.

"An' I been also thinkin', that mayhaps we need a little more security.  T' make sure nothin' like this happens again."  She pauses.  Her mind crosses to the conversation she had a few nights ago with Thomas Arturo, and the "solution" they had come up with.  She still doesn't really know if it'll solve anything, or if it will just create more deadly bitterness between her and the Sheriff.  But at least she and Harry will get some sort of justice.  "Not that I think 'twould," she says.

She's still worried about what this "justice" exactly means.  Her minds keeps going back to those hoods in the park she'd killed in a rage the night her brother had been executed.  This, on the other hand, is more or less calculated murder.  She's not quite sure she's ready to commit something like that.

Harry detects something in Deirdre's voice.  "Whaddya mean?  What's going on?"

Harry had already been looking in to security systems for the club.  It was something he'd always been meaning to do for years, the club not being in one of the best neighborhoods, but he'd never really had much money to spare.  Actually, one of the very first things that had crossed his mind when they decided to refurbish the place was a security system.  Hell, if some 7-11 convenience store could have one, why not him?  But he has a feeling that Deirdre has something a little else on her mind.

"Well, I was thinkin' perhaps that we should hire someone fer one.  A bouncer or some such thing.  'Twould only be 'round while the club was open, I know that.  We'd have t' rely on a security system fer any sort o' protection durin' the day.  But I think 'twould give the right impression that we're not fuckin' 'round anymore.

"We can pick someone who's loyal t' the club...one o' the regulars. Someone..." she pauses.  "Someone who was there an' heard th' speech I gave, an' signed up."  She doesn't say someone who was affected by my powers because as far as she knows, Harry still has no real idea that she'd manipulated that speech with her powers of magnetism.  She also doesn't really mention her own possible plans for this individual...that she may implement the same change upon him that she worked on Harry.  But she really doesn't know.  She hasn't come to that decision yet.

"I...talked with th' elder of me clan, th'other night.  About what happened at Thorns.  He will be making sure the culprits are...brought to justice."  She clears her throat.  "He'll be bringin' em t' us."

"Bringing them to us?  What do you mean?  What...what are we going to do with them?"  Harry shakes his head.  "Listen, I still don't understand how things work in...in your world.  Maybe I just need a little bit of an explanation.  I'm still rather confused about this whole thing."  He pauses and something crosses his mind.  "How..." he licks his lips, wondering if he really wants to know the answer to the next question.  "How many of...your kind...were there tonight?"

Deirdre smirks.  "From what I saw, 'bout two 'r' three tha' I knew.  Coulda been more tha' I d'na recognize."

She hasn't really talked to Harry any further about this new world she's brought him in to.  Other things have been on her mind, and more importantly she's been second-guessing her decision to pull him in to this dark milieu.

"The way...basically...it works, is that there's a hierarchy, with various ranks an' titles.  Generally th' older vampires are higher up than th' younger ones.  I turned t' one o' me elders, t' work things out with th' Sheriff -- he's essentially, the law-keeper in th' city as the name suggests."  The irony of course doesn't pass her, that the "law-keeper" is now responsible for breaking it.  "Keep in mind," she quickly adds as explanation, "tha' our laws are not mortal laws.  As long as we keep all o' our laws, we can break any mortal laws necessary.

"But in any case, I turned t' one o' me elders to work things out.  He will make sure that th' Sheriff turns in his henchmen tha' participated in th' vandalism.  What happens after is up t' us.  Though..." she hesitates.  "Though it's been impressed upon me tha' they should'na be left in any condition t' speak afterward."  She stops, a little uncomfortable with the implications that means.  She wonders if Harry has ever had to kill someone.

"Well, one thing at a time I suppose," he says, trying to divert the conversation a little.  He's not quite comfortable himself with the the thought of taking justice into his own hands, and he picks up easily enough on Deirdre's implications.  "I guess right now, all we should worry about is getting the club up and running again.  We can deal with that when it comes to us.  With the money, I can get the repair supplies, and we can start the job within the week."

They continue the walk down the street mostly in silence, a silence that hangs as weighty as any angry words.  And when they finally split, it's to the silence of their own respective, empty apartments.