"I had no idea immortals could get so drunk," Fenella said. "Or sing so many lewd Scottish ballads. I don't remember them from when I was working back home."
"They make up new ones as they go." Din walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the recently vacated barstools. "You were amazing tonight."
Fenella rewarded the compliment with a broad smile. "I had fun."
"Evidently." Din leaned over the bar and kissed her cheek. "Ready to go home?"
She shook her head. "There's a lot of cleanup to be done before Atzil and I can call it a night. But you don't have to stay and watch me cleaning." She grabbed a rag and walked around the bar.
"No, but I can help." Din started rolling up his sleeves.
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to. The sooner it is done, the sooner you can go home."
Atzil returned from depositing two particularly inebriated patrons outside.
It was good that no one was driving home, or it would have been dangerous to just kick them out like that.
Fenella wouldn't be surprised if she found them sleeping on benches along the way.
Might actually do them some good.
"Finally." Atzil flipped the sign on the door to 'Closed.' "Successful first night, I'd say."
"Indeed," Fenella agreed. "But I'm going to be feeling it in my muscles tomorrow. Being immortal doesn't help with that."
Atzil started collecting empty glasses and beer bottles from the tables. "First night's always the hardest." He turned to Din. "I don't remember hiring you."
"I volunteered."
Atzil grinned. "I won't say no to free labor."
Fenella watched Din with a mix of appreciation and fondness as he worked in tandem with her and Atzil.
They'd gotten into a rhythm, with Atzil clearing tables, her wiping them down, and Din piling the stools on top to clear the floor for mopping.
For an archaeology professor, he seemed remarkably at home with menial work.
"Your mate's handy to have around," Atzil said as Din ducked into the back room to grab a mop.
"He's not my mate," Fenella said automatically, then reconsidered. "We are just getting to know each other."
Atzil raised an eyebrow, but before he could come up with a retort, Din appeared with the mop and went to work.
"How much did we make tonight?" Fenella asked. "If you don't mind me asking."
"More than usual for a Friday," Atzil said. "Your psychic act was quite the draw."
"It wasn't an act," Fenella insisted with mock seriousness. "I was merely communicating vital information from inanimate objects."
"Right," Atzil drawled. "And I'm a hobbit who's very tall for my kind."
"The look on Karin's face when you 'revealed' her secret underwater knitting hobby..." Din chuckled, pausing in his mopping. "Priceless."
"She does have very pruney fingers," Fenella said. "The evidence was right there for anyone to see."
"And Marcus with the ballroom dancing?" Atzil added. "He nearly fell off his stool."