On Friday night, an elf sat down next to the girl.

No one really knows just how long she’s been here, but she always has. The kid is like this permanent fixture at the place. Every night when we open, she comes in alone, sits at a table and watches everyone. Never talks, never orders anything, never dances or anything. Just sits. She’s this little wispy kid in blue jeans and black Docs, with a straight fall of blonde hair down to her back. Wide blue eyes like the round cut star sapphires Angie wears. Real pretty kid. Her driver’s license says her name’s Teresa. If her ID wasn’t so completely kosher, I’d never believe she was old enough to get in. She sure doesn’t look 21. It’s funny really. I’ve never ever heard her talk, but I like her just the same. Something in the eyes I think. You know, if it wasn’t for Ange, I’d probably give her a shot. But hey, you know me. Angie’s more than enough for one man to handle anyway. But the kid, she smiles at me sometimes when she comes in so I guess I feel like I ought to watch out for her, you know, in case someone gives her trouble. Like right now.

Now first off, let’s get something straight. I’m not prejudiced against elves or fairies - excuse me, the Fey - or any of the rest of ‘em. Hell, a good half my customers aren’t strictly normal. It’s not that I would take the human’s side if they were wrong. But still, Terri never bothered anyone. She just watches. And if anyone bugs her – human or otherwise – I’d step in. The Spiral Dance is my club and no one screws with my customers.

Over the band, I really can’t hear what the elf is saying to her but he’s definitely doing most of the talking, gesturing wildly, mainly at her. Terri is just sitting there, going back and forth between acting like he isn’t there and shaking her head at him. Then the elf points his finger in her face and she starts looking more scared than anything else. That’s when I pass the bar off to Ange and head over. As I get closer, I start to make out what the elf is saying. "-ones with mage talent, the bards, the scribes, the healers. They'll take them all out. Do you think you'll be able to hide from them, sitting in some club? I could find you right off, so could they. You're the Scribe; you've got to-" he stopped when I put a hand on his shoulder. With the annoying grace only the Fey can muster, he turned and looked at me with daggers in his silver eyes. "Excuse me, I'm trying to talk with the lady."

I ignored him, looking to Nicole. "This guy bothering you, Terri?" The look she gives me is so openly grateful that it makes her look like a puppy. She nods frantically, setting off an angry noise from the elf. He starts back in on her and I pull him away from the table. When he acts like he's going to start something, Tony takes his cue. The hulking dwarf is behind me faster than I'd think possible for his short legs. "Does Tony have to escort you out, pal, or will you be leaving on your own?" The edge of ice in my voice must have struck some bit of sense the guy had, cuz he looked down at Tony, smirked, and walked away. Never looked back at the kid. But the way Terri was shaking, it was like he was still there with his finger in her face, saying whatever it was that scared her so bad. I've never seen anyone shook up so bad before. "Hey kiddo, you gonna be okay?"

"No." Great. I wave Tony off and he drifts back through the crowds to the door. "Let's get you a drink, ok? On the house." I took her hand and she let me lead her over to the bar. "What's your poison?"

"Just a coke please." One of my eyebrows must have gone up, since she smiled just a little self-consciously. The kid must not be much of a drinker. I set a glass of dark soda in front of her and gave her a minute to take it in. Angie was still watching the bar, so I had a few minutes. Terri still looked a little out of it. And besides, maybe I would actually get more than two words out of her tonight. Wouldn't that be something?

Once she had drank about half the coke, I pulled up a stool across from her and asked, "So who was that?"

It took her a moment to look over both shoulders and all around to make sure the guy was gone before she answered. "Jacinthe." Typical. Give me any Fey walking the earth and you can bet he'll have some sort of freaky name. It's an elf thing. "H-he won't go away. None of them will. They just keep…finding me." A long visible shudder ran up and down her and her hands gripped the coke so tight I thought the glass would break. Jesus Christ in a wheelchair, what could a bunch of elves be threatening Terri with that would have her so wound up? I took the glass away from her, partly to refill it and partly cuz I was afraid she really might break it. This time, I filled it with coke and a good splash of Daniels; the kid really looked like she needed it. I watched her for another minute and said to hell with it. "C'mon Nikki." I guided her through the writhing mob on the dance floor, past the mini-stage and into the back rooms. The cement walls muffled the noise from the outside, seeming almost as quiet as a tomb. The office was pretty big, but overflowing with paperwork and junk. I needed to clean it up pretty badly. But there was a decent pair of chairs, so I sat Nicole down in one and dropped myself into the other.

"Okay Terri, I've been watching you come in here since practically the day we opened, and I've never seen you act like this. You want to tell me what's going on?" She looked at me for a long moment, real quiet.

Then she told me.

I love my house.

True, true, it's not quite a house per se, but it's home, and that's what's important, isn't it? Right-o. I love my home, my little apartment just a few blocks off Haight-Ashbury. This is my home: a three room apartment, bedroom, living room, half kitchen/half dining room, and a bath. It’s got big windows that are always open so there’s air and sun all the time. The living room is filled with chairs; big cushy ones rescued from a book store, a kewl purple one abandoned by Starbucks, and a great big wicker mama-san set in front of the window facing the bay. That’s my fave, the mama-san. Sometimes I use it to meditate when the others say I’m getting too energized. The bedroom is pretty small but I don’t mind. It has windows that open out onto the roof so I can climb up there during the storms and absorb.

I love storms. The bay gets all dark and the sky clouds up and you can really feel the moisture build up in the air. Then the lightning crackles and if you’re lucky, you catch it on your fingertips and oh sweet Moon what a rush! It fills you up inside so every inch of you can glow with the power. Every sense is perked up like the radar ears of a yap-dog. You could hear an ant crawling up the bridge or feel an earthquake out in Japan. It’s incredible.

It saved my life.

The lightning had just filled me up when I felt it: something else. Not storm power, but the man-made kind. Being all energized made me hyper-sensitive to power changes, so I was on guard when it happened.

Someone appeared in my window. I could feel it from the tips of my toes to the pointy ends of my ears. Before I could spin to look, the Power intervened. It pushed in between my body and mind, trying to separate them. The control, the surge of energy I had was starting to slip away. I fought it, but it wasn’t like anything I’ve ever messed with. Then it hit me. Realization.

~Oh shit!~ The elf stalker! The one that got all those elves over in downtown SanFran. Was this? ~No, no, no~ I’m not an elf~ I’m just a halfling…~ But maybe the guy was branching out… ~I don’t wanna die...~

Any control left fled my body and the muscles started laxing. I was falling.

Off the roof!

~Oh shit…~

I live on the fourth floor!

~Oh sh-woah! Coldcoldcoldcoldcold-~ I forgot. I live on the fourth floor… right above the pool. Deep end. Icy cold. Cold shock blanked everything out of my mind for a tic, then real thought popped in. ~Run, stupid!~ Oh, right. Grabbing hold of the diving board, I vaulted out of the ater and onto the concrete. ~Get out, call the cops- no, scratch that. Call Joel, then the cops. He’ll know what to do.~ A flash of Joelandel’s surfer-boy tan and silver eyes rose in my head and I ran.

The Spiral Dance is a great club. Three stories high, great round dance floor with a band every night. A kickass bar, nice people, good sound system. It’s a cool place, not like some of the dives on 9th, where if you go in it gets real quiet and you feel every eye in the place on you. In this place, at least half the crowd is Feyish. The people here know when they come that the place is never strictly human. And I think they like it that way. I know there are more than just silver eyes lingering on me. On any other night, I might just look into some of the offers those eyes make, but tonight is different. Tonight, I’m taken. Sort of.