Chapter Twenty-One - Author's note: The title is a quotation from "Ode to a Nightingale", by the way. It's a lovely poem, and I thought it was fitting for the story. Google it, listen to someone read it, if you want to know how pretty it is. Of course, votes and comments are always lovely!

Nightingale was lying back on the sofa, listening in bliss to the sound of Clarence and Robin reading aloud to her. Their voices played off one another as they alternated stanzas of "Ode to a Nightingale". Clarence's low, baritone voice contrasted Robin's high, smooth tenor and made for a very pleasing, melodic mix.

At that moment, David slunk into the room. Immediately, all three of them looked up. His already irritated expression seemed to curl further into churlishness as he glared at Robin and Clarence.

"What in the name of God are you doing?" he sniped at them.

Robin smiled but Clarence scowled.

"Reading to Nightingale," he said, his low voice an elegant, angry growl. "She had this poem with her and Robin and I agreed to read it."

David snorted disdainfully. Nightingale rolled her eyes at his temper.

"Oh, pardon us for being gentlemen, David," huffed Robin, the only indication that he was not actually angry with David being the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "But Miss Nightingale here was bored, and we were trying to entertain her."

"I'm not sure that's Nightingale's idea of entertainment," retorted David. When Nightingale's jaw dropped in astounded anger, she noticed that he shot her only a quick little glare, his eyes cold as ice. Immediately, he went back to pointedly ignoring her. It was strange. Before, he'd had no problem staring at her - as a matter of fact, he'd been the only man to whom her looks seemed to mean nothing.

Now, he was making a deliberate attempt not to stare. It chafed at Nightingale's already raw nerves.

"David, would you please attempt to be a little less of a horse's ass?" snapped Robin, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes disapprovingly at David.

Clarence seemed surprised at Robin's impertinence with David. However, Nightingale could see that he was secretly pleased by it, based on the way he shot her a conspiring smile.

David simply glared. Nightingale could practically see David imagining murdering Robin brutally from the way his eyes flashed and his hands clenched.

"I'll stop when you and Clarence stop being so ridiculously besotted with her," he growled, gesturing sharply at Nightingale without looking at her.

"Jealous," murmured Clarence, though he never denied David's claim.

Nightingale pressed her lips together to prevent herself from laughing. Hearing her give a strangled, most unlike-Nightingale giggle - perhaps the first giggle she'd ever given - Clarence flashed a very charming smile.

It only earned him a glower from David - the kind of glare that could curdle milk.

When Robin laughed, David simply shook his head. With his nose in the air and a haughty frown on his face, he stared down at the seated Clarence.

"You. I have things to discuss with you," he said.

Clarence winced a little bit and stood up, nodding. "Of course."

"Robin. Entertain the light-wingèd dryad elsewhere," snapped David when Nightingale and Robin made no move.

Robin smiled at the quotation from "Ode to a Nightingale", though from the way he winced, he did not appreciate how David mocked the beauty of the poetry with his scornful tone.

"Come along, Nightingale," he said, smiling impishly. "Before David reveals why he's read that poem."

David's expression went from irritable to murderous with a blink of the eye. But Robin quickly retreated to a corner of the room, next to one of the giant windows, tugging Nightingale along with him.

Nightingale gave a sigh. Robin glanced over at her and she smiled at the way his dark eyes glow with equal parts sweetness and wit.

"What the fuck has gotten into Detective Beckett?" she asked, sneering the title. If David would not use her name, she would not use his, either. It was childish, but she was too bitter to care.

Robin laughed as though she'd told some hilarious joke. When he was done laughing, he turned to her. "Oh, you're so funny," he said.

She gave him a flat glare. "I wasn't messing around, Robin."

Robin's eyes widened with surprise, causing Nightingale's, conversely, to narrow with suspicion.

"What?" she snapped coldly. Some of her former cool anger, that anger she'd lost over the past little while, that anger that was so familiar to her, seeped into her tone.

"Oh, Nightingale," said Robin, his eyes rolling as he smiled. He seemed unfazed by her tone. "You're so very intelligent. How could you possibly be so stupid about David?"

It was only because of the affection in Robin's voice that Nightingale did not glower. As it was, all she did was raise her eyebrows coolly.

"Stupid about David? How so?" she enquired, allowing iciness to slip into her voice.

He smiled even more brightly, one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other. "Nightingale, don't be daft. Can you really not see why he's angry with you?"

She stamped her foot angrily. "Robin," she said.

"Don't behave like a bratty child, Nightingale. Just think," said Robin.

Nightingale scowled, frustrated. She glared over at David, surprised to find his eyes on her. The moment their gazes met, David's face coloured with anger and he looked away.

"Don't you see?" murmured Robin in her ear. He'd approached her and was standing behind her. Their frames nearly touched and warmth seemed to crackle between them. "You're such a fabulous judge of character, Gale. You can read anyone, so look at him. Don't you see?"

She turned her face and watched David speaking to Clarence, their heads bowed together. As she watched, David looked up once again, sneaking a furious glance at her. As he looked on, Nightingale was aware of Robin placing a soft kiss on her cheek. The moment she saw David's hands clench and his eyes flash, she knew.

"I see," she whispered, her heart seeming to seize up.

"He's in love with you, that poor, besotted fool," said Robin.

But the moment Nightingale realized it, she denied it. "But, Robin, that's impossible. He's always trying to get away from me!"

"A proper Mr. Darcy," said Robin, his dark eyes widening with sadness.

"I can't believe it," she said, though she did not truly believe those words, either. Watching as Clarence threw her a smouldering look over David's shoulder, she sighed. That was something she recognized. Clarence's interest was perfectly comprehensible to her. But David...

"Nightingale!" murmured Robin. "Nightingale, for the love of all that's holy! How could you not have seen it before? You're trained to read men!"

Nightingale gave a soft, wordless growl, and turned on her heel. She jabbed her finger into his chest, glaring up into his skinny face. "Because, Mr. Brightley, I am not meant to read love! My clients do not love me, and I am not meant to think they do. I was trained to see desire, not love," she hissed, her voice cold and her old cynicism creeping back into her tone.

"But you know that Michael loves you, darling," said Robin, grazing her face with just the tips of his fingers.

"Anyone can see that," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't take my skills at reading a man to see that Michael's mad for me."

"And you know that Clarence simply adores you," he added, now taking her face in one hand, a bony, scrawny hand the resembled a warm, fleshy spider.

"That's desire," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Not love. That's something I can recognize better than anything else."

Robin now leaned forward and kissed Nightingale's forehead. "And you know I love you to bits, Nightingale," he said, and his voice had all the shyness of Michael's but all the elegant swagger of Clarence's.

"Only because you so incessantly tell me so," she said. She smiled despite her poor temper.

Now it was his turn to scoff. "Hardly, darling. It's your skill at reading people that makes you so perceptive."

"I suppose," she said, and shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance.

Robin chuckled. "So, there you are, Nightingale. You've proved yourself an excellent judge of character. And yet you're so terrifically ignorant of David. Why?"

Nightingale's air of indifference was gone, for she glowered at Robin. "I was trained to respond to clients who pursue me. Men who drool when they see my body, men who want to be around me, want to touch me. Seeing that is what keeps me alive, Robin."

When he smiled sadly, she went on, her tone rising to an urgent whisper. "So of course I don't understand David! He shows no interest in me, or, if he does, it's inconsistent and entirely innocent. My body seems to hold no appeal for him, he even seems to hate me sometimes - you heard him call me a slut - but other times he respects me. Of course I was ignorant of him!"

And that was the precise moment at which Robin laughed. Nightingale was torn between abject pleasure at the sound of his trilling laugh and unhappiness that he was mocking her.

"You're laughing at me," she hissed.

Robin took both her hands in his. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm laughing because you're so perfectly miraculous, so human. It does my cause good to have Inamoratas like you in the world."

Any hurt that David had done her with his cruel words was gone at Robin's praise. Nightingale immediately smiled brightly and kissed Robin's cheek, trilling a laugh of her own to match his.

"Now, now, Nightingale. No kissing me. You'll make David glare," said Robin, smiling ruefully.

"Let him," Nightingale said, and threw her arms about Robin's neck. He lurched back a few steps at the ferocity of her embrace, but he quickly returned it. As Nightingale tightened her grip, a detached little part of her mind commented that, though he was rail thin, he was pleasant to hug. 

When she drew back, Robin turned her about. "Look now," he said, and nudged her face in the direction of David and Clarence.

Both men were gaping. David looked angry, Clarence simply looked shocked.

"I can see why you're worried she'll seduce him," she heard Clarence say. Though his words were quiet, her sharp hearing allowed her to make out what he said, and how David responded.

"Enough, Clarence. Robin's got standards, unlike you. He won't let her do anything. He won't let her practically fuck him," snapped David.

Though it made Nightingale grudgingly proud to hear David's trust in his friend, she found herself still furious.

 So she frowned at David in as frumpy a manner as she could manage before calling to him:

"Detective Beckett, did you really just rent me for the day - wasting so much of Robin's money - so that you could shout at me and then ignore me?"

Clarence and Robin seemed amused, David quite the opposite. However, he shrugged and grudgingly admitted:

"Well, if you're here anyway" - he seemed to shudder with distaste at her presence, though now Nightingale knew better - "We might as well go over the plan of appeal to the Council of the Western Union."

He motioned for all of them to sit. Clarence and David alighted on the sofa and Nightingale on a wide armchair across from them. Robin did not sit, but chose instead to stand behind Nightingale, his long-fingered hands splayed across the back of the chair, their tips grazing her shoulders.

"The Council is the legislative branch of the-" began David, but Nightingale quickly cut him off.

"Yes, yes, of the government of the Western Union, I know that," she snapped, waving her hand airily. "My conditioned knowledge and common sense extend that far, Detective."

He smiled acidly, the expression far closer to a sneer than a grin. "Then you'll also know about the fusion of law enforcement?" he mocked, eyes flashing.

She scowled, unhappy at being mocked. "Of course not. I'm not conditioned with useless trivia," she replied.

"It's not useless," interjected Clarence. David nodded along with him. "The fusion of law enforcement, the fact that the police department of the Western Continent is fused with the secret service, means that we can bring our case to the Council."

"And why is that beneficial?" asked Nightingale.

David surprised her with a smile. "Because the Council has the power to make law, and make law quickly. All we have to do is present our case and our proposal. If the Councillors vote in favour of it, it becomes law."

Nightingale raised her eyebrows. "And?"

"What David is saying, Nightingale, is that we're going to present evidence to the Council. That means that, all we have to do is convince them that the bordello business is wrong," explained Robin. He touched her cheek, a quick brush of his fingers that eked out a waspish look from David and a suspicious one from Clarence. "One very brilliant person will show them that Inamoratas have emotions, and they will then, if we play our cards right, abolish the bordello business."

Nightingale smiled scornfully, though her heart was pattering at the idea of freedom being so close.

"And who is this brilliant person?" she scoffed, using every one of her actress's skills to make her voice disdainful.

Clarence smiled roguishly, David rolled his eyes, and Robin kissed the top of her head, but they all said the same thing in unison:

"You are, of course."