Somehow musicians just seem to know where to go and when. Klause hadn't been in Rhydin for two days when he felt the itch. More than an itch, more like an urge to be somewhere. Drum sticks tucked into his back pocket, as always, he found himself lured towards a small club on the outskirts of town. In his heart and head, he could already feel the pulse of the music. As he drew closer, the feeling of everything being just right and as it should be settled over him. It was comforting, something he'd not felt since the night that he'd been abducted. Klause truly believed that he'd been abducted by a Tennessee Volunteer staff or fan who saw him pissing in a drunken stupor upon the infamous checkerboard end zone at the University Stadium. Go Vols!

He brought his mind back from wandering and found himself standing in front of the club. The bouncer opened the door and in he stepped. The crowd was electric, bouncing and dancing to the rhythms being laid out by the musicians up on the stage. And then he saw it. He saw what had been drawing him to this place. The object in question was a brand new drum kit. Two bass drums, high hat cymbal, a snare, tom toms, and reverb cymbal. It was all a drummer really needed before becoming pretentious. It sat empty, alone; beckoning him to come play. The sign said Jam Nite! - it was an open invitation. He took that invitation. His sticks grabbed from his pocket as he went to the stage. Landing upon the stool, his sticks hit the snare as he double bassed the rhythm the other musicians were laying down. And it was all natural; the sound, the rhythm as if he had been playing with the group for years.

Not only was it a jam night, but it was one of those rare occasions where everyone attending was either regularly working in the industry or just beginning to break in. Which was always a relief for Esme; at least tonight she could relax without being pestered for autographs or having songs requested. The others in her band, Taboo, were strung out through the club, doing their own thing. The bass player was on the stage, grinning as a brand new drummer she'd never seen before joined in, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the guitarists were trying to pick up a couple of dates for one another. As for herself, she was sitting on the edge of the stage, drink in hand, her head bobbing back and forward as she simply enjoyed the beat. It was wonderful to have a night off every now and then.

Klause kept his head c*cked to one side to listen to changes the other musicians were making as they played their song. The tune didn't seem to have a way, it meandered and wandered all over the scales. He set his mouth and with a crash of stick to brass, and a thud of velvet to a taut skin, he garnered the attention of his fellow musicians. Now he led the way. A smile came to his face as the others tuned their playing for his energetic solo. His hands moved more rapidly than the eye could catch, moving from toms to snare to cymbal to toms and then snare once again. His feet were pounding in opposite rhythms from each other, making a unique and syncopated thud da thud thud. His head began to bob up and down as he closed his eyes and allowed the music to flow through him.

Now that was impressive. It had been a long time since Esme had come across a drummer who could take charge of a jam just like that, without preamble or invitation, and not have a fight on his hands. Feeling a foot prod her in the back, she looked up and found Tomas, her bass player, looking down at her with raised brows. The message was clear - they should see if this drummer boy could follow as well as lead. She nodded, and in the midst of his playing, Tomas let out two dischordant rhythms - just two, and just enough to get Dick and Dom, the guitarists, out of their search for cleavage and onto the stage. Guitars were transferred with the minimum of fuss from one player to another, without much loss in the music, as Esme rose to her feet. There was no keyboard set up, so tonight she was just a singer. Mic in hand, she glanced to Tomas, who began the subtle change of tempo and tune to introduce one of their better known songs.

Klause was sure something was afoot, but not exactly sure what it was. The new players seemed to know where they were going, what they were doing. Easily, he let up and caught on quickly to the road they were paving for him. He watched them intently for any nuance, any change. When he saw Tomas the bass player looking at him, Klause nodded and followed along. It was a great night and Klause was having the time of his life.

Esme could tell just from the sheer vibrancy of the playing that they seemed to have hit gold with this drummer. He was enthusiastic, but above all else, he was good. The heartbeat of a band had to be able to take it and give it out, and he'd already proved he could. The song they'd chosen was deliberately dynamic in tempo, slowing down and speeding up at irregular intervals, keeping the muscians in the crowd entertained with the technicalities while Esme's wicked lyrics amused everyone else. As the song rolled to a halt, she heard herself cheering down the microphone along with the crowd, turning to applaud the group while the organizer of the night took the mic out of her hand and put out a call for a new group of random players to move the night on.

Klause rolled the cymbals as the song came to a stop and he held onto the brass to stop it from vibrating. He grinned his thanks to the band and the organizer before sliding his sticks into his back pocket and jumping off of the stage. He was sweaty and thirsty; the bar seemed the perfect place to go at a time like this. He quickly found himself straddling a barstool and ordering a beer.

It took a little longer for Esme to get to the bar. She had to get the rest of the bands' opinions on the drummer first, and then make her way through a crowd where pretty much everyone knew her. When she finally got there, she was laughing merrily, leaning onto the counter to catch the barman's eye and order herself another drink. Pale sea-green eyes wandered along the length of the bar to rest on her newest favourite person in the world, and pretty soon the rest of her followed, sliding along to offer him her hand. "Hi, I'm Esme!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head with a laugh. "Just Klause, I'll let you know my real name later. My phone's on the fritz and I just got here. Don't have a number or address to give to you." He truly looked apologetic.

"I kinda guessed that," she nodded, scribbling on the back of the card before handing it over to him. "That's the address of a cheap inn that'll take you on credit if you drop the name of the band - which is Taboo, by the way - and underneath it is the address of the studios where we're setting up tomorrow. Starts around 7 am."

He took the card from her and gave it a good once over before sliding it into his front pocket. "Good thing I'm an early riser." He laughed and reached to shake her hand. "Most musicians believe in the anthem of rock'n'roll all night, party every day."

She squeezed his hand, laughing at his comment. "Hey, when we're touring, that's the way of it," she promised. "In the middle of recording the new album right now, so early mornings and promotional appearances abound."

"Sounds excellent. There'll be a washing machine at this cheap little inn, right' The aliens didn't give me another set of clothes. After tonight, they're going to be pretty rank. Wouldn't want any ....distractions."

"Just let them know on the desk that you need a change of clothes, there'll be something there in the morning." Esme slid down off the bar with a cheeky little flip of flirtation. "C'mon, let's see you get your freak on again." Her hand took his, and whether he wanted it or not, Klause was likely to find himself being dragged through the crowd back toward the stage by a small bubbly redhead.

Who was he to argue with that sort of logic" He tagged along, grinning like a monkey at the pats to his back for a job well done earlier. Somebody did make the mistake of trying to grab his sticks. That person found their hand smacked soundly by the same sticks that they were trying to steal. He did this without missing a step behind Esme. "One more time, just be sure I can really play?" He chuckled and lifted her onto the stage before pulling himself up and going straight to the drum kit.

There was a round of good-natured laughter as he lifted Esme up onto the stage, answered with an equally good-natured poke of her tongue as she took hold of the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, how do we feel about a little improvisation?"

The crowd cheered loudly to her suggestion. Klause sat down behind the drums and rippled his sticks across the flattened heads, ending with a roll across brass that sent a shimmering vibration through the crowd.

Grinning, she started to pick random players out of the crowd - a bassist, a pair of guitarists, a fiddler, a posse of singers - each of whom began to join in with the rhythm and beat Klause set for them while Esme boogied around at the front of the stage, fiercely creating lyric and melody lines to go with the music being played.

Klause grinned as the crowd gave back as much as the musicians on stage poured out to them. It was a wild session, tempos and keys changing in the beat of a heart. His head was bobbing and he kept an eye on the bassist and rhythm guitarist. They kept their eye on him as well and between the three, they laid down the foundation for what the organizer would later say was the best Jam Nite in the club's history.

When the proprietor finally managed to empty his club, the moon was high, and the night startlingly quiet in comparison to the throbbing thump of the music they'd been making for the last five or six hours. Esme welcomed the freshness of the air on her bare shoulders and legs, shaking her hair out as she danced herself out through the door in time to the beat in her head.

Klause and the others followed not far behind, each of them talking about what a great night it had been. They each had their own little stories to tell and they were laughing at them all. "Hey Esme, wait up for us!" It was Klause that called out to her, jogging to catch up with the dancing queen. "How about coffee and doughnuts" It's too early to turn in."

"Why should I wait for you? You're the big strong guys, you should be looking after me!" She grinned and twirled; not drunk by any means, but her usual high on life attitude had been given a huge boost by the success of the evening. Her arm automatically slid itself around Klause's back, inserting herself under his arm to fall into step. "I like the sound of doughnuts. They won't let me have coffee, though."

"I can't imagine why." His hand fell onto her shoulder, lazily. "So where do we get decaffeinated coffee and doughnuts at two in the morning around here, anyway?" Behind them there were snickers and chuckles at how quickly Esme was taking to the new guy.

She flipped the sniggering trio behind them the bird, grinning herself. "Pick a street and walk down it," she suggested to Klause. "There's always something open this time of night." There was a snort of laughter from behind them, and she threw a cheeky glare over her shoulder at Dick and Dom. "I'm not talking about that!"

Of course, what quite a few people didn't know was that elven ears were incredibly sensitive to touch. Esme had just unthinkingly invited a near stranger to do something very intimate with her, and in response, she shuddered, color rising in her cheeks as she bit her lip. "Whoa's a good word."

"I'm sorry!" Klause took a step back when he saw her shudder. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. "Are you alright?"

Letting out a slightly shaky breath, Esme offered him a smile that might almost have been shy, but for the mischief in her eyes. "It's okay, it's fine," she assured him. "You didn't hurt me. Elven ears are, uh ....well, they're kinda sensitive."

Dick glanced back at them from the counter. "What she means, mate, is that you just gave her the elven equivalent of an intimate grope."

Klause had reached to touch her ear again, but fell short when he heard the explanation. His turn to grow bright red and a little bit shy. "Well, um, ok. Mocha frappe, anybody?" Yes, a frozen drink to cool down the flames in his cheeks.

"Decaf for her, or you'll never get to sleep," Tomas predicted, leaning over the counter to order a random array of drinks while Dick counted out silver and copper to pay for it. "Go and sit down somewhere and be awkward and embarrassed in peace."

Esme poked him in the back. "One of these days," she informed her bassist, "I am going to start sharing those stories about your first girlfriend."

There was still color in his cheeks and a bit of confusion that manifested between his brows, but all in all, Klause was truly enjoying the company and repartee of the fellow musicians turned brand new band mates of his. He did as ordered, going to sit where Dick and Dom had planted themselves.

Quite deliberately, the brothers made sure that there was no room on their bench for Klause or Esme to sit down, offering identical grins to them as they slid in opposite. And then Tomas slid in as well, squishing Esme right up against Klause deliberately. "Oh yeah, this is dignified."

Squished as he was between the wall and Esme, the only thing Klause could do was turn slightly and put his arm across the back of the bench they were sitting upon. With his right hand, he picked up his frappe and offered a toast. "To Taboo," Klause took a sip and put the drink down. "Thanks guys, really. I appreciate the offer."

"Taboo!" The various mugs clashed in the center of the table before everyone took a loud gulp of their random beverage.

"To replacing Jack faster than it took to find him," Dick added, to the hilarity of the established band.

Esme gently nudged Klause. "It's not an offer anymore. You're one of us now, better or worse."

"Who is Jack and why'd he need to be replaced?" He smiled, all dimples and sunshine in his happiness. "Better or worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as we all shall live?" He couldn't help but snicker.

"He's Judas, that's who he is," Dick declared darkly, and yipped as Tomas kicked him soundly under the table.

"It's not that bad," Esme insisted. "He just didn't want to be successful. Jack was our original drummer," she explained to Klause. "He was fine while we were struggling, but as soon as we hit regular gigs and promos, it was too much for him. He left without notice about a week ago."

"That's ....weird. What musician doesn't want their music to be heard?" It was beyond Klause's comprehension. "Well, his lack of common sense is my good fortune. To Jack!"

"Hey, you do know Esme's got a spare room in her apartment, right?" Dom suddenly piped up.

"Yeah, we can drop off some clothes for you in the morning when we pick her up," his brother offered, both of them utterly ignoring the fact that this might not be the most appropriate of ideas.