"You didn't have to put in any work for me at all," Simon teased further, though with helmets on and te purr of the bike between his legs, anything further would just be garbled if spoken out lout. He didn't think too much about Judas' lack of clinging the way he didn't think about Peter's death grip. On the road, Simon just let his mind clear.

They arrived at the same club Peter was trying to sneak into the upstairs private rooms of just after eleven, and Simon laughed and hugged his way through the line inside to pounding music and all kinds of writhing bodies on the dance floor and ar the bar.

"Drinks are on me," he yelled into Judas' ear and whisked him away to the bar where one of the bartenders who had known him for years plunked down two tumblers of scotch and soda.

"Simon! Wow! Great to see you! On the house!"