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"Next time?" She echoed gleefully, taking the water with a grateful smile as she gazed up at Elliot. "I would love there to be a next time. And I will stick to the mic. I'm not used to performing indoors, you see." She drank down the glass of water and set it gently on the bar.

Canting her head, she looked out over the waning crowd and a small shiver crept over her. The sweat she'd worked up was beginning to dry and making her skin itch. And as was the way with such things, once she noticed one small annoyance, she began to notice others. Her feet ached, throbbed really. She could feel that her socks were moist with sweat and she wanted to kick her boots off. Her shoulders were tight and her eyes were gritty. She was hungry again, too. But she didn't say a thing, she simply hid a yawn in her sleeve and blinked owlishly.

She listened to the clink of glasses, the whir of the dishwasher and the muted conversations, simply letting the noise wash over her in a strange music of it's own. A symphony found in every bar, in every town, in every country. Places like this were the closest thing to a home she ever really had. Each pub was different, but they all shared comfortable similarities, which lead to Dhara dropping what little guard she had.

Turning back to the bar, she folded her arms and leaned forward, holding herself up sleepily against the polished surface. Elliot had a job to do that was far more important than catering to one lone traveling minstrel, and so she would simply wait until he finished his duties before asking about a room. Though she did hope that room included a private tub or shower. She didn't mind sharing a common bathroom with fellow travelers, but having a private one was a luxury she rarely got to enjoy. Hiding another yawn, she gave Elliot a sleepy smile and contemplated ordering another black coffee as she waited for him.

Elliot glanced at his watch. It was nearing that time of night that he had to move – he had to go and attend to all his other business, perhaps vent his always-hidden rage on a few hunters, before retiring for the night in the crypt with Pi. As the crowd was dwindling it became easier for him to finish the jobs he needed to get done behind the bar; he slipped into the office, too, at one point, to make sure that all the orders and paperwork were in order, before returning to the bar out front.

Dhara was still there. He had not forgotten about her. He remembered their previous conversation; that she might need a place to stay. He tossed the tea towel onto the sink and washed and wiped his hands. When he returned to Dhara he was next to her, on her side of the bar; a set of keys jangled in his hands. He would take her upstairs and give her a quick tour before slipping away. He held the keys up in front of her face after dangling them beside her ear. She looked as if she might fall asleep right there on the dirty, sticky bar top.

”C’mon. If you’re still wanting that room, follow me,” he said. If she didn’t follow, that was fine. He had to go upstairs anyway – the Backpackers was part of the other ‘business’ that he had to check up on. When he reached the stairs he took them up two at a time. At the top, there was a door that was open to the public. The common area was left, maybe too trustfully, open. It spread out in front of them, a mish-mash of sombre, traditional colours and bright, new ones. To his right was a big television with both a Playstation and an X Box underneath. Around it were scattered beanbags and large, comfortable sofas. Beyond, in the back corner, there was a small kitchenette with all the amenities needed for the basics. A fridge, a microwave, a kettle.

There rooms all had bunk beds in them, and there were about five of them. They were small, and each door had its own lock. Down the back, down a smaller hallway, were the bathrooms. There were three of them, all with lockable doors.

Elliot waited at the top of the stairs, glancing over his shoulder to see if Dhara was following.

She heard the jangle of keys, then blinked sleepily as a set was suddenly before her eyes, making her go cross eyed. With a grin that never seemed to fade, she slid off the stool and followed him, rushing a bit to keep up with his longer strides. She hiked up her skirt to bolt up the stairs after him, thankful she was in such great shape already.

Once they reached the top, she gazed around at the amenities provided. This place was a lot nicer than most of the ones she routinely stayed in. She followed him in silence, taking in the details. She then eeled around him to wander down a hallway. She nodded to herself as she peeked in an empty room. Several beds, but that was okay. She always carried every thing she owned when she left a place. Even if she intended to come back. Three bathrooms was really nice. Popping out from that hallway, she poked down the smaller one and grinned again. Three bathrooms meant she could hog one and be selfish for an hour and not have to worry over much.

Making her way back to Elliot, she looked up at him, then began to rummage through her satchel, having to peer through the strands of her pink and auburn hair. At last she found the tiny pouch that carried her meager savings. All the money she had in the world, kept so trustingly in an easy to steal shoulder bag. It didn't bother her any.

"This place is really nice, Elliot." Her voice was warm with the compliment and she looked around again. This place also seemed deserted. "I'd love to claim a week long room, but I think I'd be better off going night by night just in case. I would hate to end up in debt and working it off chained in some musty old cellar." She was teasing him as she extracted a handful of bills. "Is any one else staying here? Or do I have the run of the place? Don't worry, I won't paint the walls or any thing like that."

She turned her head and brought up her arm to hide a yawn in the crook of her elbow. Shower, sleep. Those were now her only priorities.

The Backpackers had its slow weeks, and it had its busy ones. The business turned a significant profit; Elliot was hardly gasping for money. As it was, tonight, it wasn’t completely deserted. It looked it, from the outset. There was a group of four staying in one of the closed rooms. They hadn’t come back yet. There was also another girl, alone, like Dhara was. Just passing through – she was in another of the rooms with a closed door. Elliot had seen her come back an hour or so ago, while Dhara had been performing. She was probably in there on her laptop – she looked like she was a writer. Elliot had seen her down in one of the booths, tap-tapping away. Maybe she was sleeping.

”You should know what it’s like. Backpacker’s joints… well they’re just a place to sleep mostly, aren’t they?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically. When he had travelled, when he had made use of places just like this one, he was always in and out. He rarely left his belongings behind; he slept, he showered, and then he would slip out again, spending his time out on the town. Sometimes he would meet like-minds at the backpacker’s. Sometimes they’d sit around on their beds, invading each other’s rooms and spaces. Sometimes the places were falling apart, sometimes they were done up. It never mattered. It was a place to sleep. And a place to meet other people. He took the neat stack of notes. He counted them, and gave a couple back. He wasn’t expensive. He tucked the notes into his pockets to put through the register when he got back downstairs.

”It’s only nice because it’s new. Recently refurbished, recently re-opened. Two of the rooms are taken,” he said, and then gestured toward one of the rooms with an open door. ”That one’s yours,” he said, loping over toward it. He flicked on the light. The beds were all neatly made. He handed the key over to Dhara.

”But it is quiet. You can have the room to yourself – unless we get inundated with youths,” he said with a grin.

Her eyes lit up as she took in the simple room. Empty, quiet, and for now, all hers. She accepted the key with a smile, clutching it in her tiny hand like it was the crown jewels. "Thank you, Elliot. A quiet room is just perfect." She nodded at his words and picked out a bed, carefully laying her lute on the mattress and her satchel on the floor. She turned back to him and then moved to stand before him again. "And yes, I've stayed in a lot of places like this. I always take every thing I own with me. And it's safe to assume there are more keys to this room, given the beds and all."

She paused and hid another yawn, blinking up at him. "But honestly, this is really the nicest one I've ever been in. I can't believe your rates are so reasonable. Downright generous even. Not that I'm complaining!" She added hastily, giving him a tired smile. "I think a bath and a good nights sleep are in order. Thank you so much for the opportunity to perform. I hope I get another chance."

Another glance at his watch assured Elliot that the night would not last too much longer. If she wanted to sleep for a long time, she would have to wake half way through the next day; and when she did, she would not see Elliot. Elliot himself would be dead to the world, probably beside Pi in their crypt. Pi might not be dead to the world. Elliot knew that she didn’t have to sleep during the day if she didn’t want to, but he did. There was nothing that would wake him, bar severe pain.

He nodded his head and bowed, backing out of the room. He was a generous man – he always had been. He’d travelled so long with no money and now he had so much he had no idea what to do with it. Of course he was going to be generous – more so to those who he cared for, of course, but he would always be generous to those whom he felt some connection to. The one connection to his past that he would not give up; he would watch those come and go who were free to do so. He would live, in some ways, vicariously through them, and would remain aloof, aloft, watching over them like some shadowy guardian angel.

”Don’t go spreading the word otherwise you might put me out of business,” he laughed. Sure, more people might come stepping over this threshold if they knew how generous he could be, but his competitors might lower their prices, too. And then what? He shook his head. He was only really just beginning to learn all this business stuff, and his generous prices might, could be a result of his own inefficiencies.

”Have a good sleep, Dhara, and I will probably see you tomorrow,” he said. He didn’t clarify that he might see her tomorrow night rather than during the day. It wasn’t something that needed to be clarified. ”If you need anything, there’s a phone by the door. Just call down, and someone will help you,” he said, before saluting and heading toward the exit.