Qaymu eyed himself in the mirror, making sure his uniform was perfect - creases sharp, no pendants, ribbons and insignia straight, nary a wrinkle or a spot. 

Carefully, he slipped on his trench coat on, then gave himself a final look in the mirror. He let his human face appear, his elegant black whiskers turning as white as the hair now appearing on his head, no sign of his proud dragon crest. In short, he looked like an old human male. 

He turned to take a look at his apartment, slender marble pillars rising up to hold up the balconies and the ceiling above, the chandeliers, the tables and bookcases that held books and other trinkets picked up in his travels. The windows that let in the light showed a grayish sky beyond, belonging to some other world or dimension. 

His eyes darted to his cat, watching him preparing to leave. 

"Watch this place," he told her. Picking up his briefcase, he strode out the door, closing it carefully behind him. As the lock clicked, he smiled and whispered the locking spell that would secure it.


As he strode out of the elevator, he heard Velvet's call for "volunteers." From the look of her, the bartender had had a hard night. It was a wonder she hadn't slipped up and tried to tap one of her bar's regulars. Perhaps it was self-preservation? Not wanting to become a second-hand alcoholic. Those AA meetings would be interesting - and short lived.

"Ladies," he said, nodding.

"Going to the VA hospital," he told Theris as he strode past her desk. "Visiting a sick friend."