Xaviers!

"So how melodramatic will it be to seal the deal?"

"Nothing so crazy as sealing in blood. Word is usually good enough on these sorts of things, though we'll need to adjourn to my office for me to produce the paperwork," she says.

The guard frowns at her briefly before Miriam's feelings of belonging get past his defenses, which he seems to have to Miriam's surprise. The flight of stairs to the office is short enough that she's almost in the office before she knows it. And it looks like pretty much any other club owner's office with a closed floor safe, a large and very high quality desk. A substantial window looks out over the dance floor.

Miriam glances out the window form a safe distance to make sure she's not putting herself on display before she heads for the desk to rifle through any papers she might find. She really wants to check the safe, but getting that combination would probably require her delving into Erica's mind and there's a decent chance she might notice.

The window seems to be one-way glass, so she's unlikely to be revealing herself. The desk contains assorted papers, mostly invoices for alcohol and receipts for payments to various DJs and bands for the last week, but only the last week. One of the desk drawers is locked, though the lock doesn't look particularly strong or complicated.

Miriam looks for a letter opener. She has no idea how to pick a lock but she figures she can probably force it open with some leverage. She's convinced Erica has to know something. She's too suave about everything and even if she's not entirely convinced it's fairy magic or whatever, she doesn't buy that she's legitimately concerned about what happened to Wanda in here. She just comes across as much too... slick. And Chelmsford is way too small to support this much tolerance for mutants.

Forcing the lock open doesn't seem to be too difficult, the desk being made more for its looks apparently. Pulling the drawer open reveals a long knife in a leather sheath with a handle made of some natural material though it's so polished it's difficult to tell whether it's bone or horn. Next to it a stake of brand new wood and next to that is a dagger made out of what looks like silver. Deeper in the drawer is a map of Essex refolded badly with what looks like lines drawn all over it. A quick glance out the window shows Erica, Sam, and Vivienne getting up from their table and heading towards the VIP area.

Oh come on... Her initial reaction is to roll her eyes, but she reminds herself that it doesn't matter what she believes. If Erica thinks that guy who messed with Wanda is a Vampire and she's got a map and a bleeding stake that's all that really matters. With no time to really look it over, much less commit it to memory Miriam just grabs the map and shoves it into her dress. Not that it's that well hidden but still better than nothing. She closes the drawer and hurries for the door, fumbling for the bouncer's mind to work on making him forget she was ever really there. Brains shunt unimportant memories away all the time, just a matter of making her presence slip into that same natural process. Not worth committing to memory.

She thinks she's skirted her memory out of the guard's mind and she manages to get seated back in the VIP room just as the small group makes it to the VIP area and passes her room. Erica glances into the room briefly before turning her attention back to the stairs to her office, leading Vivienne and Sam up into her office. Once inside, she shuts the door and pulls some blank paper out of her desk and laying it on the desktop. She presses her fingers to it and recites the terms of the agreement, the words now seeming to have much more force:

The Morrigan agrees that neither she nor her agents shall attempt to claim the singular person, currently named Erica Carlisle and hereafter referred to as the individual. The Daughter of the Lady of the Lake agrees to maintain her mother's contract with the individual and to permit the individual a single favor to be negotiated and approved by the Daughter, such favor being claimable for up to 80 mortal years. In exchange, the individual agrees to attempt, with all effort and to the best of her abilities, to unravel the oath or oaths currently binding the Daughter to the Grey Lords, to the extent that such efforts do not violate a prior contract.

As she speaks, the words write themselves in flowing handwriting across the page. After she finishes, she turns it around. "This will constitute the extent of our agreement. Does everything appear to be in order?"

"...this last clause. Is it too much to ask if there is a prior contract?"

"At present, I do not see anything that would get in the way. I have no prior contracts with the Grey Lords, as per my agreement with the Lady and they would be the most likely to interfere and I can't see any of the other parties wasting an opportunity to thumb their nose at the Grey Lords by stopping me from doing this. But I wouldn't want to leave myself open to cross-purposes that I have no escape-clause for, that's all that clause is for."

"My mother once told me of another human female, gifted with human magic and very keen on survival at all costs. It is a human trait that the fey have been far too eager to adopt."

"Surviving's all well and good, as long as it doesn't come at the expense of living," Sam says, an odd tone creeping into her voice.

"Look around you, do I look like I have a problem with 'living'?"

Meanwhile Miriam has collapsed into her seat in the booth a little, giving herself a moment to calm down before figuring out what to do next. She should probably tell Sam about her find, but she also kind of wants to bail out right now before there's even a chance for Erica to catch on. She probably won't check the drawer while Sam and Viv are in there with her, but she might notice that it was forced open. Ultimately she decides it's not worth the risk and makes her way out of the VIP area and towards the exit as casually as possible in a club where you have to bob and weave around people.

Getting out doesn't seem to be an issue as it doesn't appear anyone's really looking for her. She's just another patron done with the club for the night.

Sam looks back down at the contract and quirks a ginger brow.

"I don't know, do you?"

Erica's expression becomes cold, but she leans forward on her desk. "Are we here to discuss my desires for a continued existence as if that's some sort of problem or are we here to make a deal?"

"Oh, you'll get what you've asked of me," she smiles sweetly.

Erica Carlisle wrote:"Look around you, do I look like I have a problem with 'living'?"

"To me, it appears that you are too attached to it."

"That is remarkably easy for someone with an immortal's blood in their veins to say," she says, scooping up the paper and rolling it tightly in her hand. "Now, if you're just going to insult me, you can get out of my office and out of my club."

"You asked the question. I gave my opinion, if it is your wish to take offense and disregard all the offers previously verbally agreed upon..."

"Now now, it's always an option to walk away from the table."

"I didn't scoff at your requirements. I offered my services willingly and at obvious risk to myself. It is deeply insulting and generally bad form to scoff at my requirements."

"Since the perceived insult was mine then you need not concern yourself with my potion of the contract. I will not revoke what you have with my mother and for your collection of knowledge, I am not immortal, no fey is. We simply live much longer then humans and mostly reside in a location where the laws on the passage of time are flexible. Just as any human I have a set lot of years and baring outside influence, I shall live them and once they are spent, they are spent."

"My deal with her," Erica says, gesturing with the paper at Sam, "is currently contingent on my deal with you. You really are *all* of the contract. The Morrigan was paying your way, so now that you're done attempting to apologize to me, you should likely apologize to her."

"I believe I misunderstood the terms. I believed them to be, she gives her word and you give your aid to my bonds, my terms with you were I give you one favor and you give me information. Am I mistaken?" She looked to Samantha.

Erica just raises an eyebrow at Sam, obviously displeased with the turn of events.

"I am still paying her way in terms of your loosing her bonds. If you simply can't stand to be around her, then I suppose you'll have to find something else that interests me before you get what you ask."

"Or is your life worth a little of your pride?"

"Thankfully, I don't have to be around her for the beginning fact-finding," she says, glaring at Vivienne. She blows into the paper and unrolls it again. All the parts about Vivienne's favor are gone. "Do we have a deal?" She asks Sam.

"We have a deal," Sam says as she signs.

Erica blows on the signature and rolls the paper back up. She walks over to the safe, blocking the access panel with her body as she opens the safe and tucks the contract into the safe. Inside, it looks like there are several old books and several metal boxes with their own locks. "Then I believe that concludes our business," she says, shutting the safe, "It will take me a few days to look into the nature of her oath and then I'll have a better idea of what I'll need to deal with it."

"I will postpone my active search for my mother until then." Vivienne stood, business concluded.

"For what it's worth, I hope you find her intact," Erica says, "She's one of the few who actually care about relations with the mortal world."

"Indeed, very much so." She bowed her head politely.

"Well then, let's..."

She trails off as she steps out into the VIP room.

"...see where Miriam got to."