Where Angels Fear To Tread (PoisonousIvee/Mr.Aznable)

PoisonousIvee

PoisonousIvee

Cluster
Joined
Nov 28, 2017
Cliff had had a long day. Since he woke up this morning bright and early at 7am to the time he clocked out at 3pm, it was a long day. He had more homicide cases on his desk than he knew what to deal with, and his partner was of little help. Dean was a good cop, but he was old and left Cliff to do all the work. It was after the War, in the year of our Lord and Savior 1947; Cliff was the son of a war hero who lost his life at Okinawa. Sure as shit made joining the police force easy. Hell, they even threw him in Homicide division without so much as second guessing themselves. Imagine being 23 years old and you're already sitting cushy in Homicide. He couldn't count on all his fingers and toes how many old detectives were pissed off he got in so fast. But that was neither here nor there. He did his job and earned his pay like the rest of them, though that isn't to say how well he kept his hands clean doing it. Cliff liked helping people find justice, don't get him wrong, but he hated the politics and protocol. Couldn't stand it. So, he usually did things a little dirty, and Dean didn't say much about it nor did he really care. "As long as some psycho is locked up, I'm happy."

But, I digress. It was a long day, and Cliff just wanted to go home and relax with a nice bottle of whiskey when Dean stopped him.
"The boys and I are gonna hit that jazz club out near the boulevard, have a drink or two to unwind after all them cases. You should come along." He said. As long as I don't have to pay, was the first thought that crossed Cliff's mind.
 
"Jazz club? I dunno, Dean, I'm not much of a jazz fan.." he said. "Besides, my dogs are barkin', I wanna head home."
 
"Would it kill ya to have just one free drink before the shame of being seen with a bunch'a old hounds sets in?" He smirked before pushing him along, not even allowing him to answer.
 
He smirked. "Well, if it's free." He said. He made it sound like a joke, but a free drink was hard to pass up.
 
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Dean chuckled and walked to his car with him, climbing in the driver's side and taking off once Cliff was in. "Even if ya don't like jazz, Frankie tells me the booze is real smooth over there. Not bad food either."
 
"Frankie swears by it, so it must be good." He said, and after some driving the pulled up to the club. Frankie and the other older Homicide detectives were waiting outside, already half a pack of smokes in.
"What took you guys, huh?"
"Oh, sorry, had to break his arm practically." Dean said as he walked up with Cliff.
 
Cliff laughed a bit and moved over to them, shaking their hands one by one. "Yeah yeah." He said.
 
"C'mon, c'mon, before all the good tables are gone." They moved in and the bright afternoon sun was immediately swallowed up by the dimness of the club's entry. A young black man stood at the podium by the door, smiling warmly at them.
"Good evening, detectives," Frankie and the boys must be regulars, "you're just in time. We have a table waitin' for you."
"Thanks, Elroy." Earl said as they all shuffled through the door. The club was huge; there was a large stage across from them with tables decorated everywhere, there was even an open bar in the far wall. They all moved to a large table closer to the stage and once they all sat, Frankie offered Cliff a cig from his pack.
"Wha'cha wanna drink, kid?" He asked.
 
He nodded and glanced at the waiter who was already bringing scotch and whiskey over, "Negroni, for the kid."
"Yessir." The waiter nodded and set down the last whiskey before leaving to the bar.
 
After a short minute, his drink was placed in front of him and the house lights went down a bit. There was movement on the stage but he couldn't really see. Wouldn't be a jazz club without a show, he guessed.
"You had plenty money 1922~" the back of his neck tingled all the way down his spine as he watched the spot light move slowly up the frame of a rather beautiful young woman. Her dress hugged her body so tight, black off the shoulder with matching elbow gloves, pale skin glowing with a necklace of pearls around her neck. Her long blonde hair hung down her back and over her shoulders. She was something else. The tempo was slow and alluring as she sang, swaying her hips slowly to keep in time with it.
 
She sang slowly, languidly, holding the microphone almost intimately as she swayed oh so temptingly.
"Get outta here~" her eyes landed on him briefly, her voice holding a soft purr before she looked away, "get me some money too~"
 
"Elaine." Earl suddenly said, and when Cliff finally looked at him, Earl was grinning at him, "Her name's Elaine."
 
She finished her song and she moved to take a drink of water from a glass on the piano before moving back to the microphone and singing a new song. It was a little faster this time but he couldn't hear the words. It was almost like he was under a spell, he couldn't look away from her.
 
When her sets finished, she walked away from the mic slowly, running her fingers over it gently like she was petting it - and the audience - goodbye.
"Man, what I wouldn't give to be twenty years younger." Muttered Stephen.
 
"She's just somethin' pretty to look at, kid. Don't get your hopes up." Frankie said. What was wrong with trying though? He could get back there easy if he flashed his badge.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom