"I will not have a Silver Fang living on the streets. It is shameful and dishonourable."

Even a luxurious hotel room can become very dull after a few days' residence. The television has been on a great deal, and Cedric and Mathias have been showing signs of mutual annoyance at their continued sharing of the space. Right now, Cedric has gone to take a bath with the local paper, while the TV is burbling inconsequential news bulletins at Mathias. The room's telephone rings.

Mathias grumbles a moment, then looks over to Cedric's bathroom for a moment, then goes over to pick up the phone. Lifting it to his ears, he says simply, in a deadened voice to try to help mask his identity. "Hello, this is room 207, how may we help you?"

The voice on the phone has a British accent, akin to Cedric's but a good deel less genteel-sounding. "Is that Mr. Ambermere?"

Mathias pauses a moment, then looks over to the bathroom. "Sorry, but I'm afraid he is currently busy. May I take a name and message to be delievered when he is free?"

The voice's owner sounds inexplicably pleased with himself. "Who's that speaking?"

Mathias pauses a moment, not seeming sure, before he says simply, "My name is Mathias Sorrendale. And as I've said, Mr. Ambermere is currently occupied."

"Sorrendale," repeats the voice on the phone. "And you're a friend of Mr Ambermere's? An employee?"

Mathias pauses a moment again, trying to order his thoughts with the voice on the phone. "I would believe the description fitting. Is there something I could help you with?"

"Which description?" comes a question fired back. "Friend? Employee?"

Mathias responds quicker this time to the voice on the phone. "Both. While we both continue our professional careers together, we have also become friends."

"I see," says the voice, now sounding smug. "So are you close friends?" Meantime, Cedric shouts out from the bathroom, "Who's on the phone?"

Mathias holds his hand over the speaker a moment, "Some british sounding person that was asking for you." he grumbles a moment, then removes his hand, "If by close you mean getting to enjoy a meal together after a hard week, then sure. Romantics ain't a part of this."

Nothing from the phone but a click and the buzz of a dialtone. Cedric emerges from the bathroom, dripping and clad in a towel. "British person?" he demands crossly, pushing wet hair out of his eyes.

Mathias looks back up and just hangs up the phone. "Bastard hung up. Was asking for you. Had a british accent, and then wanted to know if I was your employee, or friend."

"Hell," swears Cedric. "British people after me on the phone means one of two things. Either my family, or... not."

Mathias pauses a moment, "I told them that you were currently busy, and unable to come to the phone for the moment. It just...doesn't feel right somehow. If I didn't know better, I'd bail now."

Cedric shakes his head. "I doubt it's anything to panic about. For the first year or so I was over here, in Canada, the British press were still sniffin' at my heels. I sang pretty small and didn't get into any public dust-ups, wasn't seen with any young debs on my arm, and eventually they gave up. Wonder if they're after me again for some reason." He slips back into the bathroom and comes out in a dressing gown this time.

Mathias just looks at Cedric. He pauses a moment, "That's even worse. If I was to leave, they'd jump all over it. I don't need my pictures in the papers again." he looks about, "Well, just means we can't have hot and raunchy sex. Seeing how hard that would be."

A look of distaste spreads over Cedric's face. "No-jolly-old-thank-you," he says firmly. "I'm not havin' my name in the papers again, never mind linked with yours. How old are you anyway?" He looks piercingly at Mathias.

Mathias rolls his eyes, "Guess I'm not even worth associating with? Well..." he pauses a moment, "Actually, since my picture appeared in the paper before...gah." he taps his chin, "Can't even remember too well, birthdays aren't well...kept track of. 17 I think."

Cedric gives a very hollow laugh. "I bet that's it. I bet some low scoundrel on the hotel staff who knows my name and knows I used to be newsworthy, has tipped off the press that I've got... got a pretty rent boy stashed away in my room with me." He gives Mathias a thunderous, and most unfair, look.

Mathias looks up a moment, "I can't help being pretty you know. To some of us, it's natural." he looks over, "Well...what do you want to do then? I've sorta stoped caring what people say about me. You on the other hand..."

Cedric gives Mathias another glare at the hint that the theurge is naturally pretty. Certainly Cedric himself doesn't look his normal handsome, dashing self while clad in a bathrobe, dripping wet, and fuming in rage. "Got to get you out of here," he says. "But where the hell can I put you? That'll be safe? While we wait for Blackriver to be ready to see you?"

Mathias gives a look to Cedric for a moment. "I can disappear. I'm used to it, and I've lived in the city for nearly three months on the streets. However much time it takes, I don't mind. It'll be back to the normals."

"No," Cedric almost barks. "I will not have a Silver Fang living on the streets. It is shameful and dishonourable."

Mathias holds his hands up. "Then, well, I don't know. I could just return to clemency house and all."

Cedric nods. "I'll check out of here," he says, "and come with you. If we leave carefully, and at night, hopefully we'll evade any paparazzi. I don't want to have to outrun them in my car -- remember what happened to poor old Diana."

Mathias ahhs and hehs. "I didn't think she was driving though? Besides, paparazzi are plus ten points each. If you can hit them while they are taking the picture, it's triple score over time."

Cedric laughs, at that, and some of his bad mood dissipates. "Okay. I'll feel all the better for not being cooped up here any more. Hotels are the most frightful borin' places. And soon I hope we'll have you sorted out, and me with a house of my own."

The two garou pack up their belongings -- which takes Cedric a lot longer than Mathias. The fostern calls down to reception to advise that he'll be checking out late that night, and after a few hours waiting rather nervously, they emerge with their cases and sneak down to the reception desk where Cedric pays off the room on a gold card. Then they head to the parking lot and burn rubber, reaching Kent Crossing and Clemency House without obvious mishap.