Safe and Sane

Memorial Day weekend meant that most people had three days off and intended to spend it either in sloth or trying to cross off as many things as they could from their "to do" list. The club was prepared for both cases.

They'd cleaned and restocked all the rooms, put up some new decorations and made sure everything was bright and shiny.

They'd also stocked up on burgers, dogs, and other picnic essentials and put grills and tables in the back parking lot. There was a threat of rain but if that happened, everything could be hauled indoors to one of the fire-safe play rooms. (Of course, that hadn't stopped some wit from putting an "in case of fire" sign on the inflatable kiddie pool.)

The main lounge had tables stocked with drinks and finger foods for those who didn't do meat or simply weren't the picnic type. Friday afternoon rolled around and everything was set.

Cate had been out of town for a week working on a couple of articles that needed some on-the-spot type research. Frankly, she'd had a ball, and once she was home she only stopped to shower before going to the club in a short black and red dress with black leather thigh-boots. She felt like making an impression today, clearly. There was the munch later on, but for now she was happy to sip her coffee and watch from her stool at the bar, waiting to see who'd make an appearance.

Fade wandered into the club, grinning like a very satisfied cat. He headed behind the bar, got a towel and cracked ice out of an ice tray into it, then went to half sprawl on a couch, makeshift ice pack pressed against the spectacular hand print that was blossoming around his throat.

It was Wednesday again, and the weather wasn't quite so pleasant as the week before and everything was slightly less bright. Almost as if to make up for it, some strange concoction with too much caffeine and way too much sugar was being served as the special for the day for anyone that dared try it.

All in all, it was the set up for a pretty good day.

Stopping someone outside the door to the club, Cate was as direct as usual.

"Oh my God! Where did you get those shoes?"

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. A little cloudy, but still warm, in the nineties outside. The air was on inside and there was, for some reason, a slip and slide and a little wading pool in the garden.


There was a little spread of food; salads, chips, pretzels, hot-dogs, hamburgers, chicken, constantly replenished.

Cate was, frankly, horny. She was also antsy. She'd scened with Alexis a few days ago and didn't want to go an ask her for a scene on a Sunday night anyway.

So, Caitlin was at the club, sprawled out along a sofa and sipping something that would have alcohol in it if she wasn't hoping for a scene. She was watching the door with an almost predatory expression, and wondered vaguely if she was putting people off by seeming so keyed up.

Cate had called to check Alexis was home and showed up at her door ten minutes later, knocking and waiting with impatient excitement - and possibly some nerves. She grinned and pulled Alexis close for a kiss as soon as the door opened.

"Remember you love me," she said seriously, stepping back just a little and holding out a cat-taxi complete with kitten. "John said you needed one. I agreed. I have a bed and litter box and food and stuff in the car!"

It was a warm, cloudy day. The temperature hit 92 at noon and stayed around 85 into the early evening. There were cold drinks, hot drinks, but also, weirdly, a lot of chocolate.

A lot of chocolate. Chocolate biscuits, Chocolate cookies, cakes, lollypops, candies, dipped pretzels. Good chocolate too.

If asked the baristas rolled their eyes and explained "Over order"

Hey! Someone she didn't know. Cate flopped down on the couch and grinned at Bobby. "Hi."

At 9:30, right on schedule, John's house was opened up.

All the lights, inside and out, were blazing and the doors were standing open. The food and drinks were in the kitchen, there was lots of seating in the living room, and the guest rooms were open. The only room, in fact, that wasn't open was John's bedroom and the attached bathroom. The puppy was crated safely in that room, at least until people had finished arriving.

John wouldn't be there for a bit, but everything was there and ready to go at 9:30, and to keep going for as long as people wanted it.

John was on one of the sofas in the main lounge. One knee was bent toward him, the other stretched out along the length of the thing. He had his elbow on the arm rest, and his temple propped against his fist, with a book open in front of him. He was wearing glasses instead of contacts, jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He was also wearing black dress socks, and the pair of shoes sitting in front of the couch were also black, low heeled, and extremely shiny.

When the door open he glanced up from his book, and toward the door, with an easy smile. "Hey, you."

To: All Members
From: John Harper
Subject: Hey, world-

Saturday night, I'm throwing the house open to anyone who wants to stop by. Because of the concert, this is going to be casual and happen late.

Cate's volunteered to leave after my set to unlock the house and greet people, so if you're not going to the concert, arriving any time after 9:30 is fine. If you're leaving from the concert -- well, after my set.

I'm not doing a lot here. There'll be pizza delivered, some catered stuff (that Cate gets to set out in the kitchen - we love Cate), and wine/water/soft drinks. Basically, I'm just inviting you to come over, mingle and hang out.

Really casual, RSVP completely not necessary, and if people end up crashing out for the night, that's more than fine. As long as you don't do it in my room.

John.

It was cloudy, gray and ninety degrees in Boulder. The humidity and heat, in combination, were killer. The doors to the coffee shop were closed, to keep the heat out and the air conditioning it. There were still tables outside, and people sitting there, but most of the business was inside, where it was cooler. They were selling more iced caffeine and frozen, shaved, sugary drinks than anything that steamed.

There was talk about ordering ice cream and sorbet as well as baked goods, for the rest of the summer. Someone decided if they got it in, it would cool off and be 50 degrees. Everyone who heard them thought it would be worth the order, just to get the heat to break.

It was Friday evening; it was sort of a party. There was music in one room if people wanted to dance, food and drink in other rooms, the scening rooms had purposely been left unreservable that evening so the party-goers could claim them as the evening wore on. It was a warm night, but inside the temperature was nice. The garden doors were open, tiki torches lit.

"Hi," Peter said with a little wave, leaning against the bar and studying the person next to him.

Max offered a cookie out of a bag to the person who just sat down on the couch next to him, "These are amazing, really."

Sunday evening found John asleep at the club, again. Stretched out on one of the overstuffed sofas, arms pillowed under his head and face buried in the crook of his elbow. His T-shirt and hair were both rumpled, his glasses were on the coffee-table beside him and he was out.

Right up until the door swung open.

He pushed up on his forearms with a soft groan and blinked blearily at them. "I really have to stop taking naps here," he murmured.

He, frankly, sounded and looked like he'd just been fucked to within an inch of his life: lazy, satisfied, and exhausted.

Thunder rattled the windows of the coffee shop, but inside it was warm and well lit against the storms outside. It was slightly muggy, but not too bad and the manager had brought out the speciality hot chocolates for the evening.

Munch Wednesday.

Coffee and conversation at the cafe. The doors were blocked open to let in air, people were milling around and it was, as always, friendly and inviting.