[b][u]1:35 PM, O'Mallory's Irish Pub, Gotham City - November 3rd, 2019[/u][/b]

The wails of woe from the gathered Fae and the mortal patrons were deafening in the bar as Ives went down like a sack of bricks, and Clayton couldn't help but grin as he watched Hayes standing triumphant in the ring while the announcer declared him the new champ. He felt a twinge of pity for whatever poor son of a bitch was managing the Fae Queen of Gotham's chosen champion, thinking of the torments an hexes that Queen Barenziah would throw his way.

[i]"Well,"[/i] he though, downing the last of his mug of Miller before he started toward Gillespie, who was fuming at the towering Human lumbering towards him. [i]"That's his fault for getting involved with Elves."[/i]

"Don' ye look at me all smug an' superior, boyo." The Leprechaun growled out at Clayton, teeth clenched together so tightly he might have been making diamonds out of that crooked scowl. "Yer fookin' boy got lucky. It ain't gonna happen again."

"What, the Queen gonna break his legs? Toss an impotence hex on him? Wouldn't be very smart of her to go after a big, public figure like that." Clayton said, his deep, rumbling voice giving away no hint at the satisfaction he felt. "I'm sure The Master would just love to have an excuse to deal with her. Or hell, maybe that supernatural FBI task force."

That wiped the scowl off the Fae's face, though he still grumbled angrily under his breath as he started to fish around under the counter. Most of the smaller Fae never quite got used to their glamours, the way it so drastically increased their size, made it hard for them coordinate. A moment later Gillespie practically slammed the small lockbox down on the counter, pulling out a thick wad of bills and slapping it down on the counter before Clayton. The big man pocketed the money with a smile.

"Hope ya choke an' die on it."

"Not likely. Be too clean a way for me to go, with my job." He paused for a moment, fishing the coin out of his pocket again. He looked over that worn, battered surface for a long moment before he spoke up. "Barenziah know this came up?"

"Why the fook should she? It's jus' a tricket, lad. Little bit left over from t'e old days. Ain't not'in' to ruffle her feat'ers over."

[i]"Or a sign that the most evil bitch the Unseelie ever had is back."[/i] Clayton thought to himself, stuffing the coin back into his pocket and starting out the door. Tommy would be waiting back home, and he needed a little help with the calculus. Playing the role of father was almost as hard as being a supernatural gumshoe, but it was far more satisfying. 

He decided they'd need some ice cream before they got started on the boy's math.