The bar was far from packed, seeing how it was Tuesday and most people had **** to do tomorrow, but considering before now Paige was only playing for tips in the park, it was the best gig the spork-shifter could book. The girl needed to get out more, especially after that incident with her former neighbor. She hoped the brat was doing okay though...no one deserved a life that totally sucked...

All of that vanished from her mind as she fired up her amp on the small stage. Wearing a bright purple shirt and a pair of black jeans, the girl closed her eyes. It was just her and the music now. And whatever tips she could pull in over the next two hours.

Her fingers danced over the frets of the purple electric guitar as her eyes opened and she began to sing.

"This is my life, it's not what it was before
All these feelings I've shared. And these are my dreams that I'd never lived before. Somebody shake me 'cause I, I must be sleeping. Now that we're here, it's so far away. All the struggle we thought was in vain, and all the mistakes, one life contained. They all finally start to go away. And now that we're here, it's so far," At this moment, one of the drunken patrons decided to grab at Paige's leg, but the blond didn't miss a beat, or a single note as she met the guy with a kick that sent him stumbling back over a chair. "Away..."

Clay was bored and restless, it was that simple. He'd wrapped up a few cases and nothing new was in sight. The ghostly population of New York were quiet for once and no-one had called his office/apartment in days. So with nothing to occupy his time Clay had stewed, paced, read and finally gave up. He craved human contact, to be part of a group or at least among people. Living people if he could find them.

So that was why on a Tuesday evening he was sitting in a bar quietly observing the people as they drank and talked. Clay himself was sitting at a table facing the little stage. His particular table was in shadow, owing to a bulb that had suspiciously broken a few minutes after the skeletons arrival. As such he felt comfortable enough to remove his face scarf and sunglasses while he sat although his hat was strategically tipped forward, deepening the shadows around his skull and rendering all but invisible. On his table rested a glass half filled with whisky and a single cube of ice. He couldn’t drink it, but he could smell it and remember the taste.

The girl on stage started singing, playing her guitar in accompaniment. His mind wandered back to the late forty’s and early fifty’s. Of music played on vinyl records and people sitting around the radio in the evening. Listening to Sinatra and hearing rumors of a young man called Elvis who would one day take the world by storm. It was the early days of rock and roll. Big bands, wild dances and men playing their hearts out for the Blues. The skeleton listened to the girls song and remembered and smiled without a face.

He laughed softly when the young singer casually kicked away a potential distraction. Her playing never faltered and her song didn’t skip a beat. Clay nodded with approval and watched, and listened and remembered.

To be honest, this gig sucked. Not Paige, she was playing and singing her heart out. But a Tuesday night bar crowd was small, and tough, as noted by the guy whose chest the feisty shifter had dang-near caved in. Finishing her rendition of So Far Away, she looked at her empty tip jar, and heaved a sigh. Oh well...you do what you can. Stopping for a sip of water, she re-tuned her guitar, turning each tuning peg until she had it readjusted just the way she needed it.

Some of the crowd started to get restless, but Paige noticed the one guy in the corner. He was just...sitting there. Actually listening, and not touching his whiskey. Though she couldn't see his face because of the conveniently burnt-out light and his tilted hat, the girl thought the least he could do was tip. Again, oh well. The crowd silenced as her fingers again danced over the fretboard, pick gliding across the strings as another riff filled the air. It was slower than the original, by just a bit. But Paige's female voice did Sweet Child o' Mine some justice.

"She's got a smile, and it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky. Now and then, when I see her face, it takes me away to that special place. And if I stare too long, I'll probably break down and cry." A smile spread across her lips as in her mind, the bar crowd disappeared. "Ohhh--whoa-oh sweet child of mine...Oh, oh oh oh sweet love of mine..." After this bit though, Paige stopped singing. The song returned to its intended tempo, and her picking became more elaborate and the song turned into an instrumental.

Anyone paying attention would have noticed the stray tear streaming down the girl's face as she put in the emotion, pouring her heart and soul out over the guitar, onto these undeserving drunks. But to Paige, music was her heart and soul. An audience was just people who happened to be there, and sometimes paid for it.

One of the mixed blessings of being somewhat displaced in time was the fact that some things which were old and familiar to most were new to Clay. The next song was one of those things. Looking around the bar he could see that he was the only one who didn’t know the song. He really needed to invest in a seed dee player at some point. But for now he continued to sit and listen reptly to the music.

Clay watched in amazement at the skill and dexterity the woman displayed. Her fingers fairly flew over the guitar strings. Her singing was fantastic filling the bar and washing over the mostly drunk patrons. It was rich and full of emotion and Clays focus shifted from the guitar to the girls face. He was both surprised and unsurprised at the depth of emotion there. She was in a world of her own tears falling down her cheeks, lost in the music. The slow start to the song seamlessly transformed into something faster and even more complicated and Clay found himself tapping his foot and loosing himself. Good music was like that. Everything else fades, leaving only the music and the performer.

The drunk who'd gotten a little too handsy earlier passed Clays table. He was swearing and grumbling much too loudly for the skeletons liking. It had pulled him out of his reverie which was somewhat annoying. The detective stood, wrapped one hand around the drunks neck and pushed him over an outstretched leg. The drunk fell banging his head into the bar, he groaned once and passed out. Much better. Clay sat back down seeking that idyllic state again.

Paige had to smile when she saw the drunken lover-boy taken down. Stopping to retune her guitar again, she felt her smile drop as she spotted the money in her tip jar--a handful of change and three ones. If she was lucky, there was about five bucks in there.

"Last one tonight," she spoke into the microphone, as if anyone really cared, except for that one listener. The others seemed to be there just to gawk at her. Hopefully she wouldn't be scraping the bottom for long, but knowing her luck, she'd be playing in front of drunk guys with four teeth for a long time...

Her fingers began to dance along the frets one last time, slowly and gracefully.
"...Just like a crow chasing a butterfly, dandelions lost in the summer sky. When you and I were gettin' high as outer space, I never thought you'd slip away. I guess I was just a little too late..."

When she finished the song, she unplugged her guitar, putting it in its case as she pocketed the all-of five dollars in her jar and grabbed the amp.

The song changed again after a few minutes with just a short pause for the musician to glance down at the tip jar and flex her fingers. Clay felt a stab of disappointment when the girl announced that this would be the last song. The song was slower and softer than the last, roaring up faster and more forceful during the chorus. The skeleton resisted the urge to nod his head to the music, fearing bobbing his skull in and out of shadows.

The song ended far to quickly and the girl packed up without a word. Clay stayed sitting for a few more seconds before shaking himself out of his thoughts. He stood wrapping his face back up in his scarf and putting on sunglasses He stepped in front of the girl. Clay pulled out a ten dollar bill and held it out to her.

"The least I can do for such a performance." Clay shrugged. "Well that and my thanks. You give a good show." He pointed down to her amp. "Want a hand with that?"

Paige looked up and smiled at the stranger, pocketing the ten with a nod.Okay, fifteen bucks. That wasn't great, but it was much better than five. "Thanks," she replied, picking up the guitar case. "Glad I found someone here who actually appreciates the music and isn't looking to score with a nineteen year old." The shifter gave a small giggle, though she noticed the man was pretty well bundled up for one indoors. "That'd be cool of you. I mean I'm just going to end up taking a bus, but I appreciate it." Looking around, she thought a moment.

"What brings you to this dump full of lowlifes and drunks anyway? You don't seem the type to drink."

"Ooh I am much to old to be seducing nineteen year old's." Clay chuckled as he picked up the amp for her. As he straightened he noticed her eyeing his covered face. "Ahh, don't mind my suspiciously covered face. It's only suspiciously covered because I have a somewhat memorable face." Or lack there of. "Most people don't enjoy it so I try to stay covered. Just one more service I do for society at large."

He followed her gaze looking over the bar. It was a seedy little place full of drunks which were fast becoming rowdy now they had no music to soothe their troubled souls. Or maybe it was just because they were drunk as all hell and unrepentant about it. Clay figured that soon there would be at least one drunken brawl. Ahh well it wasn't as if it was the Ritz or anything. "I'm between work with an annoying amount of spare time. Really, really annoying. As in so annoying I was actually considering painting my office mauve. So to save myself I decided to surround myself with people, find a drink and some music. Extremely good music as it turns out. So thank you, for the music and for saving my office from the horror that is mauve."

"And so to show my thanks I'll give you a lift home if you like." Clay gestured to the door. "My car is just outside. If you dont mind rideing with a complete stranger. I'd understand if you didn't. Even if he is well dressed and somewhat charming."

Paige gave a small laugh, looking at the stranger. "Good. Seducing me doesn't often end well." The blonde listened to his every word, and had a comeback for almost each and every one. "Memorable? Honey, my roommate's a dragon. Like, literally part dragon or something. Try me. And this is my work. I used to work at a coffee shop, and play in the park for tips on the side. Then I got fired from the coffee shop, and got invited to play here awhile back. Honestly, I think I did better in the park." Flashing a smile, she shook her head.

"I'd appreciate the ride, but charm doesn't quite have a positive effect on me. Between you and me, let's just say I'm not into...manly charm." With that, she grabbed her guitar case, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and made her way to the door, waiting for the stranger to catch up while allowing him time to chew on her comment for a moment.