Rarely does Zev find himself behind his own bar, but he understands the value. Practicing his skills as a bartender and mixologist is important for maintaining the persona he's honed over the past few years, as is speaking with his patrons. And so, without any assignment to stalk and kill for his real career, he inserted himself into the schedule that night, working alongside his full-time bartenders. The shift had gone well; enough customers filled Howling with bodies and conversation to stave off the late hours. But it is past midnight now, and only a few patrons remain, most having stumbled out already, their spirits as high as their blood alcohol content.

Zev is pouring a glass of water for one of his more inebriated regulars when the newcomer catches his attention with the slight raise of her chin. He'd watched her entrance from the corner of his eye. As his habit is to take in the unique details of a person to make memorizing them easier, he'd observed the manner with which she carried herself, her style of dress, her angular facial features. After he hands off the water, he steps up to take her order and notes her accent when she speaks. Alolan. Her tone is confident, her smile enigmatic.

Zev grins at her as if she is letting him in on a secret, the kind of smile that draws dimples in his cheeks. "I have just the thing," he replies, almost conspiratorially. Then he turns and pulls a bottle of champagne from the fridge beneath the bar. Not one of the costly ones, no — something middle-shelf, affordable but with a complex flavor that elevates it above common stock. A thousand tiny specks of edible gold leaf swirl within the champagne as he pours it into a flute; they catch the dim light of the bar and twinkle like stars.

"What are you celebrating?" Zev asks as he gently places the slender flute of bubbly in front of the woman.

Neffatari Nzingha

NOTES
+ Mission: Sleepless in Slateport
+ Howling's Interior

As the woman introduces herself — accomplishments only, no name, Zev notes — he takes a moment to appreciate the self-assurance and elegance with which she moves. She sits at his bar as if she owned it, not he. As if she belonged exactly there and had, in fact, always been there in front of him. He finds himself staring, the corners of his mouth curled ever-so-slightly in a grin, partly amused, partly amazed.

"Senior Astronomical Observer," he repeats, channeling a small amount of that wonder into his voice. "I would toast congratulations to you if I wasn't on the clock, but that's a remarkable feat. You must work at Mossdeep Space Center, then. Though judging from your accent, you're not originally from here, are you?"

Zev leans in again, feigning curiosity about her work but not feigning the unexpected desire to continue talking with her. At her question, however, he glances at the champagne flute in her hand. "It's Périgord, their 24-karat special. Périgord is Kalosian-born but moved here to Hoenn twenty years ago and established a vineyard near Verdanturf, so the champagne still has that unique Kalosian flavor without the added expense." Then he meets her even gaze again and his grin widens. "And I'm Zev, the bar owner. It's a pleasure to serve you tonight, Madam Observer," he teases her, expecting her to supply her own name in return.

Neffatari Nzingha

NOTES
+ Mission: Sleepless in Slateport

Zev shakes Nenet's outstretched hand. Her grip is firm, an extension of her confidence, but also warm and inviting — like her smile, like her golden gaze. His hand lingers in hers for a moment before he lets her go. The twinge of reluctance at their lack of contact is odd, but not alarming nor unfamiliar. He's hungered for women before.

And if he's not mistaken, she's hungering a little for him, too. He almost laughs at her suggestion to bend the rules, not because it's stupid but because he's ready to agree. There are only a couple of other patrons in the bar, both seated at a table on the other side of the room and moving to leave. The chefs have already gone home. Only one other bartender remains and, seeing that her boss is engaged in rapt conversation, she's already started to balance the register by herself.

"Tell you what," Zev says in a low voice to match Nenet's, his grin suggesting mischief. He rests his hands on the sink in front of him and leans his weight upon it. "We're about to close. Sit easy here and enjoy your champagne for a bit, then after we've locked up, you and I can celebrate your success together at my place. If you don't have any other plans for the night, of course. I have a decent selection of alcohol at home. I've never been to Ula'ula Island, so you can tell me all about it. Or…"

His grin turns into a smirk as his blue eyes stare intently into hers.

"We can spend the remaining hours of the night another way."

Neffatari Nzingha

NOTES
+ Mission: Sleepless in Slateport

"Good thing I'm not much of a conversationalist either," Zev shoots back with a chuckle, before pulling away to help his bartender finish with closing. He waves goodbye the last two patrons, but his employee heads him off before he can disappear into the kitchen to wrap up the last few tasks.

"Go home, boss," she says, stealing a knowing glance at the woman still seated at the bar. "I'll take care of the things in the back. You have a good night."

Zev smiles at her gratefully and bids her goodnight, too. Once the girl has gone through the kitchen door, he makes his way to Nenet at a nonchalant pace, trying not to appear overly eager. Truth be told, it's been a long time since he's slept with somebody, and the way Nenet's gaze alone pulls him toward her, like some irresistible force, is driving him crazy with want.

"My apartment isn't far. Just a couple of blocks," he says coolly, fishing his keys out of his pocket so he can lock up the front door when they leave through it. Then he extends his other hand to her to help her off the high barstool. "Shall we?"

Neffatari Nzingha

NOTES
+ Mission: Sleepless in Slateport

As soon as Nenet's lips press against his, Zev loses the rest of his dwindling composure. He kisses her back with a fervor that betrays his need, his arms wrapping around her body, pulling her close. His hands roam along her curves, stealing a squeeze of her backside before they begin to grope for the zipper of her dress. All of him burns with the heat of her against him. Every thought of his points toward Nenet, to yanking off their clothes and tasting every inch of her beautifully dark skin before he takes her for himself.

When she speaks, that single word becomes a directive. Like a planet pulled by gravity to its sun, Zev finds himself totally obedient, all too eager to surrender himself to Nenet's wishes for the rest of that night. "This way," he replies, his voice thick and rough.

The bedroom is clean, tidy. The soft glow of a lamp makes it all the more inviting. Zev lowers himself to sit on the bed, gently pulling Nenet down beside him. No words are necessary now. Cupping her cheek with a hand, he tilts her face toward his and kisses her again, this time with a hint of teeth.

The night is still young, and as they say, Slateport never sleeps.

Neffatari Nzingha

NOTES
+ Mission: Sleepless in Slateport