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It was a crowded night at the Lock and Key and Destiny was up to her chin in drink orders. It seemed every chair had a body on it and even some of the spaces without chairs. She hustled back and forth down the bar mixing and serving drinks, taking cash. The only upside was the the tip jar was filling up and that Karma was out on the floor helping. Honestly, they could use more busy nights like this.

Things weren’t also so good.

“Karma!” She called out to her partner. “Hey, these margaritas are ready!”

There was a rowdy table of soccer moms in the corner making Destiny cringe every time she heard some reference to 50 Shades of Gray. It was almost enough to make her want to pitch them out of the bar AND steal their energy but she didn’t. Only because they were spending money. After hours they were free, and likely to be drained, game. She slid the glasses onto the counter toward her lover, giving her a quick wink as a thank you.

“It’s a jungle out there, isn’t it?”

The bar was crazy busy. So crazy. But Karma loved it. The most unique characters came in when it was busy…. And Karma… Karma could get away with s**t. s**t that would normally be shut down under the watchful eye of Destiny. Like….. Testing out one of the new appetizers she had been planning. She grinned at Destiny as she whisked the margaritas away to their awaiting drunkards, and slipped back behind the counter to where the likes of fried delicacies were usually made.

She had a blowtorch. The fact that Destiny had not seen or questioned it meant that they were indeed BUSY.

Flame toasted Smores it was. Which meant there were copious amounts of napkins being slid to patrons who spent enough to be gifted one of the experimental monstrosities. Because if Destiny knew, that s**t would have been shut down fast. Smores were sticky. They did not do sticky. Drunk people did not need melting marshmallows.

But as they whirled around the bar, people leaving, licking sugary roasted bits from their fingers would toss napkins into trashcans, or on tables, or on the floor.

And one… one had somehow made it into the infamous ******** Bucket. How long it had been there, no one knew. But as Karma walked passed, her eyes spotted something in the bucket that was ordained to always be empty. She stopped in her tracks, margaritas delivered, and tray of smores in her hand now forgotten.

She narrowed her eyes and the offending napkin.

“ALRIGHT. “ The usually cheery Karma’s voice cracked over the background noise of the crowd.

“ WHO THE HELL GAVE A ********. “ Karma literally stepped onto the counter so she could pluck up the ******** bucket and hold it aloft, like a pet parent shaming a dog who had gotten into the trash. It didn't occur to her that she was now standing on the bar, or that she was advertising her secret smores, SOMEONE GAVE A ********, AND THAT WAS NOT ACCEPTABLE.

Destiny was busy trying not to argue with a drunk who refused to believe he’d been rightfully cut off from ordering anymore drinks. She had offered to call him a cab but he belligerently replied that he was just fine and had even dared to call her a b***h for suggesting otherwise, not a wise choice in her own establishment. Especially not if one expected to survive the encounter.

The heavens opened up and shined down on him, for the exact moment she was reaching back her fist to clock him one was the moment Karma chose to make her own query, effectively distracting her from her chosen course.

She quickly whipped around to see her partner standing ON the bar and shuddered, shaking her head. It was one of those nights, was it? Goody…

“Karma, get down.”

Though, well, she didn’t like anyone giving a ******** in her bar, either. The ******** bucket was symbolic and literally never contained any ********. Never. That was the whole point of the thing: to sit there empty so that if someone complained she could point to the bucket where she gave her ******** and showed without a doubt that it was empty. The second thing she spotted were the S’mores, suspiciously toasty, considering. And then the torch.

Sweet Jesus.

“You’ve been playing with fire again, haven’t you? We had a talk about that last month when you singed the curtains and they almost called the fire marshall on us.”

She took the bucket and delivered it empty back to it’s chosen place, trying to coax Karma off the bar while simultaneously making her own voice heard on the subject.

“The ******** Bucket always remains empty. No one here gives a ********, right?”

“NO!”

A bunch of drunks roared back in answer, pleasantly tispy and completely devoid of ******** give a ********.” A weak voice called from the back of the room.

“Well, yeah, but that’s when we decided that the Beauty and the Beast theme Night was better off WITHOUT a live candelabra “ She paused, looking at the smores and back to Destiny.

“ Besides. This... “

She unhooked the little butane blow torch from her belt, holding it in her now empty hand as Destiny took the bucket away

“ Is a Torch, not a match “ She flicked it on for a moment, giving one little marshmallow a cursory hit, and flicked it off. She grinned, pleased with herself, if she were a puppy, she would be wagging her tail.

And then some poor fool spoke, her rising mood at the lack of ******** given by their patrons halted.

-INSERT DRAMATIC GOPHER-

“ Then you “ She emphasised her word by pointing her little torch and flicking it on at the client “ May take your ******** and leave “ She gave a pleasant and serene smile that said his name might as well be marshmallow, and he should flee. She was also still standing on the bar.

“That’s not how this works, Karma. That’s not how any of this works.”

Destiny shook her head gently, trying not to deflate all of her lover’s bubble.

“Fire is still fire. You can’t play with fire in the bar anymore.”

Which, of course, didn’t specifically prohibit playing with fire in their home but she was too scattered to notice that omission. She plucked up one of the marshmallows and took a taste, waiting for her to take care of the one customer stupid enough to give a ******** in their bar. Things worked ever so much better when the patrons kept their heads down and followed the rules. That was the good thing about owning their own business - their word was law.

She nodded to the one bouncer that they had in on nights like this. He was a good guy, quiet, built like a horse and they were able to pay him in beer. He swiftly picked up on Karma’s justice and grabbed the guy around the waist, tossing him none too gently out the front door.

Everyone cheered.

Destiny put down the sweet treat, finding it to be one of the better experiments she’d been forced to try through their relationship, and moved to tug at Karma’s hand.

“Ok, he’s gone. Now will you get down? Or are you going to start leading a bar wide karaoke version of My Name Is No?”

The soccer moms would probably join in.

Karma was smirking as their loyal ( and secretly a cinnamon bun ) bouncer toss out the foolish ******** giver. Destiny tugged on her hand and she peered down at her, and flicked the torch off before hopping down, landing with a fluke of grace on her feet, and giving Destiny a nose nuzzle.

“ Maybe, I do like Karaoke. And I do like that song. Though I was wondering if you were going to notice the new addition to the art collection “ Karma and Destiny often quoted the song when snarkily voicing their disapproval or refusal of something. The bar was littered with many signs, usually strange art pieces, or even some street signs that had been… donated… to their collection. And a small one, a non descript brown on the wall, nestled between some others, was a plaque that simply had “is no” printed on it in solid block print.

My sign is no.

Few would get it. Those that did would get a free shot.

That song was quoted almost as often as “ ******** this s**t Im out “

Or “Move b***h, get out the way.”

You know, things that were applicable in everyday life. Destiny scanned the walls of the bar looking for Karma’s new addition in their ever expanding “art” collection. The legality of half their collection was always somewhat in question but, thankfully, no one had ever decided to ask. Which was good, both for the bar and for said curious customer’s energy. They had ways of dealing with nosy clients. Anyway, it didn’t take long for her eyes to find the new piece in question. She immediately got the joke, knowing Karma’s sense of humor which was shockingly similar to her own.

She chuckled, returning the nuzzles and letting the waiting customers ******** off for a short, cute second.

“I adore you, you know that? You’re a whirlwind of chaos in my life but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

When she finally allowed herself to focus on the present more people were staring at them than she was comfortable with. Despite being a strong willed woman that made her presence known, she did not like being the center of attention. Not even on the outer rings of the center of attention. She gave their bartender a look and shook her head.

“Alright, nothing to see here. We’re back to giving no ********. Drink up or Leave.”