Faith, Trust, and Pixie Blood (1+1)

[Minibit]

Jude drummed his long fingers absently on the steering wheel as they cruised down the street. "I need a coffee, there's a little all-night cafe which also has some lovely teas if you're not feeling caffeine." he added mildly.

The place he was thinking of was an old haunt, but it had been forever since he'd actually had enough time to go out and just relax somewhere. It was a corner space, the walls were all windows and tall plants grew at intervals along the curb. The interior was spartan, a checked linoleum floor, with round, glass-topped tables scattered across it. A bar ran along the long wall and the space behind it was equipped with coffeepots, espresso, and several shelves of teas. A pastry case at the end had a few snacks, but it was not a location for meals.

It was also about three quarters of the way across town. They'd have a few minutes driving to get comfortable before they got there. There were other, equally pleasant places to get a drink which were closer, but the distance was an asset for negotiation

 

[XIII]

San listened as he explained where they were going, raising a brow slightly as she tried to remember the distance of their destination. She could definitely go for some tea, but most places didn't generally have the kind she liked. Perhaps this place would? Taking a breath, the fae looked his way momentarily, playing with her fingers nervously in her lap.
"So." She began, looking out the window. "I don't know what this whole date thing is going to accomplish, Jude. This just....makes me nervous. I don't think I'd be able to do the recording. Plus, I think it just wouldn't sound the same. Your music is one style. This would just, ruin it." Sansa inhaled sharply after rambling, realizing she was more or less making excuses on why she couldn't. Or didn't want to. Same difference to her.

 

[Minibit]

"Hey, don't worry about my music" Jude replied, glancing sideways at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road. "Zeppelin was a rock band, but Stairway to Heaven was one of their biggest hits, Ozzy was death metal, but 'Dreamer' is a crowd favourite and a top-seller to this day. Eminem makes just as much off of his Marshall Mathers productions as he does off the insane Slim Shady stuff, need I go on?" He spoke in a measured, easygoing voice which had the ring of a teacher breaking down a complex subject into simple parts.

"In any case if I want to take a small risk by switching styles a bit on the next album, that's on me. Your concern is on your exposure, and actually, that works for me better than you'd think." The light they were approaching switched to green, and he slid back up to speed, beginning to keep an eye open for the exit

"anonymous tracks can be a big hit - people are fascinated by them, and I won't go too much into demographics, but it's especially a good fit for my audience. I've got the resources to throw out a whole ocean of red herrings, if you're not bothered I can even hire someone to take credit for the voice and just have them refuse to perform live. Keeping you out of the spotlight is just an issue of resources, and resources I got."

Having finished his two-pronged argument, he left his inflection open for her to respond at her own pace, and signalled a lane change as he saw the exit coming up.

 

[XIII]

She groaned. Loudly. It was an excuse to get him to accept she didn't want to do it. And why not? Just because of the exposure? Or because she'd be working with him? Perhaps a bit of both. San didn't say anything for a long while, just pondered over her options in her head. He was right. All they needed were resources to keep her in the dark. But hire someone else? Eventually, people would start to ask questions. Whoever he hired wouldn't be able to keep a secret for forever.

Eyes watched the road as the vehicle began merging off the freeway, coming to a stop at the light before turning. The café wasn't too far ahead, and eventually, she'd have to give him an answer. Taking a deep breath as the car came to it's final halt, she closed her eyes, already regretting her answer before she even spoke it. "Fine." The fae exhaled, playing with the hem of her dress. "But on my terms. Humans can only be trusted so far, so if we're going to do this, I'm going to stay in the dark. No need to drag anyone else into this. I don't do shows, as you can well imagine, but I don't mind being at a couple of the concerts. Maybe we can do a show with me behind a curtain, only my shadow cast on it, to prove that I'm a living creature." Or maybe not. Perhaps that was a bad idea.

Sansa stepped out of the vehicle and looked up at the building, walking into the café before him. She took in the sights, the smells, suddenly smiling at the large array of jars that sat on one wall, all labeled as something else.
"Can I make my own tea?" The woman behind the counter nodded, smiling widely at her. "Can I have a sage, peppermint, and jasmine?" And just like that, the woman began working, whipping up a delicious smelling blend and passing it over in just a few short moments.
"And for you, sir?" The woman looked to Jude politely, waiting for his order.