Saoirse was having an interesting evening. Interesting in the sense that she was playing manager for the first time ever, and not really caring for the experience. Her boss had been invited to that party at the Moriarty's, and low and behold, Saoirse ended up being the one put in charge. She was one of the only actual vampires working tonight as anything other than eye-candy for the tourists. No way any of them were gonna lift a finger if she got backed up.
And why oh why did humans always feel the need to bark their drink orders? Fucking drunks! She'd put up with them as a human, as a vampire she found them slightly ridiculous. The two seconds it took to politely order your poison wasn't going to fucking kill you. Barking at a vampire? That might kill you! Saoirse scowled and got his drink, having flashbacks to the day Graham had walked in here. He'd ordered a drink, pissily, and Saoirse had fired some snark at him. Should have fired back a lot more. Should have-
When she turned to her newest patron she actually dropped his fucking drink. BAM! Right to the ground. It was the most un-vampirely thing she'd done in a long time. She'd been that damn shocked. "Ambrose?" she blurted out, wondering why the Twilight Zone had her on speed dial. His eyes had changed, they were so-
Oh shit. It clicked all at once. He couldn't see her. He was blind. How had that happened? When had that happened? Was there someone out there she needed to kill? And what the fuck was he doing here? She looked up at the ceiling for a minute. Really, God? Anyone else you want to throw at me while I'm at my worse? Would he recognize her voice? Did she have time to get the fuck out of here and go find some corner in which to cry like a little girl?