"Have yall ever tried swamp water before?" Moxie pondered.

"Like, when you mix a bunch of tonic together and drink it? Yeah."

Axel's answer was immediate, as to be expected from the group of four sitting inside the dark but lively New Orleans bar that Cruella had taken them to. The live jazz music was electric, the Sazerac was free-flowing, and the company was wonderful. But, despite what should have been a winning formula for a perfect night out, Moxie found her mind drifting in and out of the conversation, still stuck with Patrick playing on a loop. She had been eyeing that candle in the center of their table a little too much as if it would somehow make it less obvious that she had a lot of other shit on her mind.

Cruella had noticed immediately the first time it happened, and Moxie was sure Axel was perceptive enough to have picked up on it as well, but they were both doing her a solid by pretending they hadn't. (Axel mostly because he was paying a whole lot of attention to Eddie.) (Also as expected.)

"Well... no. But how much tonic are you drinking, dude?"

"I think he means pop," Cruella translated.

"Oh." Moxie wanted to blame the misunderstanding on Axel being a man, but unfortunately knew it was a regional thing.

He looked at her, head tilted to the side like a puppy having his first play date. "... What's your version of swamp water?"

"Well, Stevie's version is a... Midori Sour, basically."

Axel's eyes lit up. "Oh, you mean Shrek's Piss."

Eddie choked on her drink. Moxie wanted to throw hers at him for no apparent reason. Cruella looked like she was second-guessing her solidarity with said man.

"What?" Eddie managed.

"... Swamp Water," Axel answered quickly. "Like she said. That's swamp water."

"That's not what you said," Cruella corrected.

"Think it is. Music's loud in here."

Moxie leaned back. "Sounds fine to me."

"Don't think so!" He raised his voice in distress. "Might have to yell!"

The bar certainly wasn't quiet enough for him to get away with that unnoticed. The group's server walked over then and looked them over. "Everything alright over here?"

"We're fine," Eddie replied immediately. "Thank you, sorry. Unless you want to order a Shrek's—"

"We're fine!" Axel said, still panicking. "Thank you!"

Their server accepted the confusing consensus and departed. Moxie found it equally as amusing as it was embarrassing, mostly for him, but she found Eddie's reaction to him even more intriguing. While Eddie clearly found him embarrassing as well at the moment, it was paired with more of that kind of he's my dork sort of admiration.

"So, Eddie," Cruella redirected, "how is it? Being back in the ring?"

Her eyes lit up like they had in the ring while the whole world screamed back at her, champion! "Kind of like waking up Christmas morning as a kid."

"My... my dad used to bring Ursula and me to fights when we were younger. He had a friend who worked at this venue who helped sneak us in. Made us wear earmuffs but, god, it was the coolest thing. I used to want to become a fighter."

She looked as lost in a daydream as she had while watching the fight earlier. It was also the first time she mentioned her father, which Moxie understood wasn't a coincidence.

"What stopped you?" Eddie inquired.

"Dad... moved away," Cruella answered. "We stopped going. Kind of got sucked into the whole theatre kid thing and never left. And then, well, my mom discovered that putting her kids into show business was kind of fun so... here we are."

There they were. Moxie had a sense she could guess the story, a familiar tale spun all too frequently in the land of show business.

"For whatever it's worth, For The Kill and Bones And All are fantastic," Eddie said. It's on my workout playlist."

Cruella laughed, twirling the tiny straw around the sides of her drink. "Thanks. Definitely some good release-your-anger kind of albums."

Moxie always found it interesting to analyze the construction of an album. The sound, the lyrics, the visuals. It was easy to read it all as a concept, an aesthetic. But sometimes, when listeners and fans looked a little closer and read between the lines, they were often much more revealing, and not even necessarily in the way that an artist wanted anyone else to know. It felt like a cat-and-mouse game, trying to find the right balance between being honest and creating art. Sometimes they had to tip the scales further one way or another, but that risked either becoming too distant or too invasive.

For The Kill was anger as a fresh wound. Still bright, fluorescent red, still pulsating with adrenaline. Bones And All was anger embedded in one's skin. Calcified into place, an old scar fighting with ghosts.

"Pop perfection," Eddie said.

"Deserved the other one too," Moxie said. Cruella Queen losing out on her second Grammy award was criminal, biases aside.

The blonde starlet smiled at them both. "How'd you first get into boxing?"

"Truthfully... I've always been good at fighting. Couldn't see myself going to college, or something, not that that's a bad thing." Eddie was overthinking her thoughts, but Moxie guessed that wasn't the first time. "But I knew I wanted to be in sports. Was shit at track, most other women's sports pay... not great. Always came back to fighting. And... I can't say I didn't get lucky when I signed on with Coach almost right away, but it felt like the pieces fell into place. Like they were meant to be, you know?"

Cruella nodded. "Yeah, I mean, you can tell. The way you move it's like..." She waltzed back into her memories of that fight. "It's not even just watching someone get lost in something they're good at. It's like watching someone go back to that place where everything makes sense, I guess."

"If you're ever in San Francisco and want to spar, just shoot me a message."

Cruella immediately lit up at Eddie's invitation.

"Coach would be happy to have someone in the gym who'll listen to him." Eddie elbowed Axel. "This one can even take photos."

"Sounds fun," he said. "Mhmm. Sure. Yeah."

Moxie nearly laughed. He malfunctioned nearly every time Eddie touched him. "Look alive, Axel."

His head snapped up. Totally acting cool.

"My trainer would be shocked to hear that I'm actually listening to someone," Cruella said. "And I'd have to find a way around my agent. They've never really liked the idea of me boxing. Said I don't know how to... enjoy a hobby without letting it consume me."

Moxie didn't even have to ask. Her agent was probably a man. They always had the most to say about women doing things they loved.

"Sounds like a dick."

"Sometimes it's fun," Axel said. Vaguely concerned. "To... let it. And nobody should stop you from that."

"Probably would be easier if I didn't have a whole team of people watching my every move." Cruella shrugged. "A little more anonymity would be fun. Not have to worry about what other people think of me and what I do."

"Amen to that," Eddie said.

What occurred then probably looked like a round of cheers from the outside, but it was something more depressing than that.

Axel took it upon himself to change the subject to something a bit less depressing for all of their sakes. "Favorite spot in New Orleans so far? Go."

"It's my first time here so..." Moxie thought for a second. "To be determined."

"Can't really go wrong with anywhere that has food and jazz, to be honest." Cruella looked over at the band. They were indeed truly spectacular.

"Yours must be the swamp tours, yeah?" Moxie looked towards Axel.

"Absolutely," he deadpanned. "It's definitely not when I came here for Mardi Gras with my mom. Swamp tour all the way, wanted to wrestle a gator. But they wouldn't let me off the boat."

Moxie would never admit it out loud, but she would bet on him lasting a few rounds with a gator. He was that much of a fucking anomaly.

"How else were you supposed to try Shrek's—" she started before Cruella interrupted. Probably because of her attention span. Possibly because she was the only woman in that room who wasn't sleeping with him and giving him the benefit of the doubt when he said weird shit.

"Ugh, I would love to go on a ghost tour here," Cruella bemoaned. "I bet they're so cool."

"That would actually be... kind of fun." Axel looked tempted. Kind of like when someone teased Maverick with a bet he was bound to lose.

Cruella looked in his direction. A little bit like the Stevie to his Maverick. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking..."

"Is this a safe space to say I don't believe in ghosts?" Moxie asked.

The bozos reincarnate stared at her. "... Don't you have a song named Ghosts?" Cruella asked. "A Grammy-nominated song."

"It's, like, metaphorical."

"I can't believe you'd mislead us like this," Axel chimed in.

"Says the man impersonating a lesbian," Moxie replied. He very noticeably added a flannel to his attire for the night.

"Huh—"

Eddie laughed hysterically.

"It's okay, though," Cruella said. "Blockbuster went out of business."

It was embarrassing how Moxie knew this and how quickly she corrected her but— "There's still the last one standing in Oregon."

"I'm from Massach—" Axel started.

"I'll explain it to you when you're older," Eddie interrupted. She did a terrible job of trying to hide her laugh.

"I—okay. Thank you." He looked desperate to be educated at that moment but accepted the offer. "Pretty sure I'm older than you. But that's fine."

"My birthday's in like twenty days," she replied.

"My birthday's March 22nd." Axel sipped his drink while the ladies all stared at him.

What the fuck was up with this guy?

"Do you mean... today?" Moxie asked.

He scoffed. "Pretty sure it's the 21st today."

Cruella shot her a concerned glance. "It's definitely the 22nd."

"Think the timezone hopping is getting to you. "I don't think so."

Moxie reached inside her pocket and turned it on before shoving it in his direction. "22nd."

"That's a cute dog." He smiled at Rocky. "What's their name? Are they in New Orleans with you?"

"That's Rocky Terrier the 22nd. And he's with our friend... assistant... stop changing the subject."

"Can I meet him?" Axel asked. Moxie wanted to strangle him. "Has he met Dewey? Dewey's a sweetheart."

"He has not."

"But back to it being the 22nd—" Cruella added.

"Eddie has a dog," Axel said. "His name is Peter. St. Bernard suck up."

"Don't rope me into this," Eddie protested.

He pulled out his phone instead since his diversion wasn't going according to plan. "I might have a picture of him—" An audible sigh could be heard from one of them. Maybe all of them. "Somewhere..."

(Moxie did not let his casual slip of having his own pictures of Eddie's dog go unnoticed, despite the ways in which this m*n was torturing them.) (Nor did she miss the not-so-subtle drink Eddie took while he searched his phone.)

"If you think I won't yell for a server to confirm today's date—" Cruella threatened.

"If we tell them it's a birthday, they could sing—" Eddie was a bit of a shit, wasn't she? And Moxie loved her for it.

Axel looked utterly mortified. "Don't you dare—"

Because Cruella was nothing if not an award-winning showgirl at heart, she put Eddie's mischievous charm to shame. No amount of mood lighting could hide the flush of embarrassment that rose to Axels' cheeks as he watched in horror while Cruella placed her drink aside and stood up on her chair. He looked ready to yank every strand of hair out of his head.

Nobody in the world stood a chance against a woman like Cruella when she wanted attention. Moxie should know. Cruella had her wrapped snugly around her finger.

"Hi! Excuse me! Today is my friend Axel's birthday. We would love if everyone could join us in wishing him a happy birthday if you don't mind!"

"This is so unnecess—" Axel protested to no avail.

What Cruella wanted, Cruella got. The entire bar enthusiastically broke out their best version of Happy Birthday. If anyone could sing the same old tune and make it feel completely new, it was a bar down in New Orleans. Axel may have looked as if he wanted to toss himself straight into an actively erupting volcano, but he was there to stay, and Cruella made sure of it. She stealthily maneuvered herself around so she could shove him forward into an already blazing spotlight. And when he wasn't paying attention, she stole his camera off of him so she could snap a few pictures of his spectacular embarrassment, all in loving nature.

Once the singing stopped—Axel only looked mildly relieved, still reeling in the moment prior—their server walked over with a giant slice of cake in their hands.

"Happy birthday! Should've told us earlier, hon."

"He's such a silly goose, but thank you," Moxie said. "And happy March 22nd to you too."

"Yeah." Axel looked queasy. "Thank you."

The server left. They didn't get paid enough to care that much.

"You're all eating this," he said. "This is all of your faults."

Moxie was halfway to a fork before he even opened his mouth. There was one thing she never needed, and it was someone telling her that she was welcome to cake. If it was there, it was hers. "Don't mind if I do."

Cruella snatched a fork from the table and used it to hold a bite up for the guest of honor. "First bite for the birthday boy!"

"I don't think we need to—" His protest was blocked with cake. The only thing he had going for him was that he waited until he had swallowed it before speaking. "—do that. Thanks?"

"That would be thirty!"

"Oh, cute!" Cruella cheered. "Thirty, flirty, and thriving!"

"Something like that. Sure." Axel did not look in the mood to be thirty, flirty, or thriving. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. (As long as that anywhere else included Eddie.) (He probably would have already booked it out of the bar if she weren't there.)

"Wishes for thirty?" Eddie asked.

"Uh—Dining room table?"

"That's it?"

"Well, that's number one," he replied. "Um. I didn't think past that."

Cruella nodded. "Dining room tables are very important."

Moxie snuck a look down at the phone in Cruella's hand, Notes app pulled up. REMINDER: DINING TABLE FOR AXEL.

"Are they?" Axel asked.

"Yes," Eddie answered incredulously.

Moxie pondered his response as she swallowed the delectable bite of cake to which she had helped herself. As a lesbian who knew many other lesbians,

"Do you normally eat on the couch of your kitchen floor—"

His guilty expression was already an answer. "Is this rhetorical—"

"He definitely eats cereal sitting on his kitchen counter." Cruella nodded.

Eddie laughed behind her hand. Moxie would bet she had already seen that in person at least once, if not a few times.

"Is it that important where I eat if I live alone—"

Moxie's sip of her drink was deliberate.

"Do you wear your shoes inside your apartment to—" Cruella looked horrified by that thought, but not confident enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I would never."

"He lied about it being his birthday today so—" It was Moxie's Sappho-given duty to call him out.

"That is not something you lie about."

"Neither is your birthday," Eddie said.

"Everyone lies about their birthday—"

"Mine is January 28th," Cruella inserted. "I just turned twenty-seven."

"I turn twenty-nine on September 26th," Moxie said.

"Libra?" Cruella smiled at her. "Nice."

"April 12th," Eddie added. "Unfortunately thirty."

Axel looked too surprised by the turn of events considering he was the only man present, and therefore was bound to be proven wrong.

"... Well then. Huh. Am I supposed to know what kind of... Libra thing I am?"

"You don't know?" Cruella looked ready to dump her newfound bestie. (God, Moxie both missed and needed to spend some time away from Stevie.)

Moxie rolled her eyes. "Men..."

"Is it meant to be common knowledge?" Axel asked.

"Aries men are so messy."

"I'm not that hairy—"

"You are—" Eddie said. (Moxie laughed.) "—and she said Aries. That's your zodia—your Libra thing."

"Oh. Someone should eat the rest of this cake. Please. It's Aries day."

"Season," Eddie corrected.

"Season."

"Did you know Aries is ruled by Mars—" Moxie started before realizing her mistake in forgetting that she was sitting across from a cishet man. A cishet man from Boston. "—actually, of course you didn't."

"I think Jun is an Aries too, so you're in good company," Cruella offered.

"Honored." Axel looked toward his guiding light. "What are you?"

Moxie wanted to rip out her hair and find the nearest lesbian bar, even if it meant not being able to take Cruella and Eddie with her. "Oh my god."

"Also an Aries," Eddie answered.

"Good company." Axel cleared his throat. "What thing is January 28th?"

"Aquarius. We're—" Cruella looked between Eddie and Eddie's friend. "—observant."

"It sounds watery. Aquaaarius. It's a vibe."

"Aquarius is an air sign," Moxie said. Stern. Disappointed. Not at all surprised.

"Just like Libra," Eddie crooned. "That's... interesting."

Moxie squirmed in her seat. Cruella looked charmed. The former had never felt less like a Libra than at that moment. So-called people pleasers who liked to keep the balance and liked being the center of attention. Axel would probably have something to say about that characterization if he found a way to speak without tripping over his own tongue.

"In honor of Axel's birthday, we should definitely go on a ghost tour tomorrow if you're both still in town" Cruella offered.

Oh, great. Just what they needed. Another scenario in which Axel would likely find a way to trip over himself, this time in a much more physically embarrassing manner.

"We can go after the show." Moxie subscribed to the same rule as Stevie in that men did not get to see her shows for free, but Eddie and Axel appeared to be a two-for-one deal. "Stop by there too if you want."

"Really?" Eddie asked. "Thank you."

"Ghosts and ghosts." Axel laughed at his own joke. "Double whammy. Sounds amazing."

"Call us the Ghostbusters," Moxie deadpanned.

"Who is Mick going to be?" Cruella asked.

"Sigourney Weaver."

"Could be the secretary—" Axel suggested.

"If you're Bill Murray in this scenario, I think he'll be fin being Sigourney Weaver."

"I love Garfield," Axel said. "Sure."

Moxie King, Toronto Film School dropout and daughter of world-renowned movie producer Milena King, wasn't sure how to respond to that revelation. "Do you know of Bill Murray because of... Garfield?"

"I like Space Jam too. Not Space Jam 2. The first Space Jam. Also." Moxie was even more offended that he thought she needed that clarification.

"Maverick is screaming somewhere in the world for the Lost in Translation erasure."

"Bill Murray sand that song with him?"

Oh. My. God. Even Eddie looked embarrassed by that.

"This is infinitely worse than when Stevie told me about how Jun knows of Rachel Weisz."

Cruella gently placed her hand on the arm of his chair. "Axel, honey—"

"Yes, queen?" He snorted. "Ha, queen."

Eddie and Moxie stared in queer-women.

"Don't bring any of this up around Stevie or Maverick." They would probably be more offended than she was, and that was saying something.

"Sure. Noted. Thank you for the guidance and the tickets to the Ghostbusters concert."

"Normally, I'd have to charge but this one is on Mick." That was the only way she could let herself go through with allowing him in the venue.

"Tell my Sigourney Waver I love him for it."

"Oh, he'll love it right back," Moxie replied.

"I'll buy him a drink for the ghost tour as a thank you."

He needed to buy Moxie another round of drinks after tonight.

"What do I owe you for—" Eddie started.

"Oh, no. You can always get in for free, babe."

Eddie blew her a kiss. "Thank you, lovely."

"Anything for my favorite Aries."

Axel sat there, blissfully unaware.

"Too good to me."