"And it is with great pleasure that I welcome you to The Rusty Spigot!"

Before me lay a bar, constructed entirely from sheets of steel, with a cast iron hanger supporting a sign stating The Rusty Spigot in bold lettering.

"A bar? Can Automatons even drink?" I asked. I couldn't see how it could run through their system, or why they would even want a bar if they couldn't taste.

"Can they drink?" Oliver mimicked in a mockingly high voice. "Of course they can, although they more use this as a place to unwind. Literally." He broke into a short burst of laughter at his own joke. "Honestly, there isn't all that much they can't do, but I'll let you see for yourself." His hand was on the top of my back again, and he ushered me inside.

I was immediately greeted by the sounds of song and laughter, and an Automaton girl with cornflower blue hair, if it could be called that, right in front of me. She was dressed in a thin black dress, a tall navy top hat, adorned with pipes spewing smoke, and an apron clinging to her steel frame. Her eyes, looking almost too human for the rest of her silver body, glanced between Oliver and myself, dilating back and forth until she appeared to recognize him, breaking into a smile.

"Oh my goodness! Oliver, it's been such a wind since I've seen you last. You've grown so tall!" I was taken aback at how smooth her voice sounded. I had always heard that it was short and metallic in sound, but it was actually rich, and seemingly heartfelt, although I knew that that was impossible for anyone of her... type. "Well come come. Let's get you two situated, and then you simply have to tell me where you met this charming young fellow."

"Well, it's actually a funny-" But she was already off, the two hinged doors to the back rooms flapping back and forth. Instead of being frustrated however, Oliver started chuckling. It was almost cute, the way his skinny shoulders shook from his little bursts of laughter. "She always does this. Come on. I know a good spot in the back." He grabbed my hand and started to lead me there.

"Why is it a good spot? Shouldn't every table in a restaurant be the same?" They all appeared the same to me. Short, crude cut wooden tables set with copper stools. Some were empty, some were filled with Automatons, in pairs, large groups; it seemed almost no one sat alone.

"This isn't just a restaurant Eva." He turned his head over his shoulder to smile at me. "And I would hate for you to miss the show."

Show? What kind of show would weapons put on? Certainly nothing safe, I couldn't help but think as we sat down across from each other at the table Oliver had chosen.

With the center of the large room filled with a boxy peninsula of a stage, this table, being in the front, and just slightly right, was indeed a good viewing point. But for what?

"Oliver? Are you sure we should be here? What if-"

"Shhhh!" he whispered fiercely. "It's starting."

And sure enough, the stage was being lined with Automatons. A sharply dressed golden-man and woman took the center, with three more rusted-looking fellows sat in the back, one with drums, one with a piano, and the other with a strange instrument, like a horn with buttons. The golden one assumed a large stick, with a wired ball attached to the end, and with a short countdown they began to sing. Actually sing, and play, like Humans. The girl danced to the lively tune, all while the man belted out:

The North always made machines

The South always worked the lands

They worked together until they couldn't decide

If a man should own a man

And soldiers fought out in the dust

America's numbers goin' down

If they didn't make up soon

We'd work our way into the ground

And when Lincoln himself famously said

A house against itself cannot stand

That was when they decided to make

The world's first metal man

American casualties were goin' down

The South filled with metal and rust

The war was ended soon

Leaving us in the dust

Now we're left sitting around

Nothing to do or to be done

They shove us into our little district

So we might as well have our fun!

"I see we're listening. So!" The blue-haired girl from before slid into a seat next to me, plopping down a tray of small pastry puffs and cups of tea in front of the two of us, with nothing for herself. "What do you think? I'm curious. Oliver tends to be a bit of a regular, but you're new!" Her bright green eyes got to be an inch from my own face.

"It... it was amazing! The man's singing was so rich and passionate. And the girl, I've never seen anyone dance like that. Oh! Oh! And that... the instrument... You know the one that goes bwaah..." I began to hear Oliver's chuckle again, and a blush filled my face. What was I even saying? I quickly took hold of a tea cup and began to sip.

The flavor was very different than any I had ever tasted, with a heat to it more than just the temperature, and a heavy dose of cream. I wasn't sure if I enjoyed it, or not, forced to continue to taste in order to determine my feelings on it.

"You're funny. I like you..." She stopped suddenly to loudly whisper to Oliver, "What's his name?"

"Actually, her name is Evangeline. Like I was trying to say before, it's kind of a funny story."

"Oh!" And just like that, she moved out of my personal space, instead propping her head on the table with her hands. "Well, you're a funny girl Evangeline. I'm Narsi, nice to meet you." She then stopped for a moment, turning to give Oliver a disappointed look. "Wait a moment, you brought a fine young lady to the Rusty Spigot, and didn't offer her a dance? I knew you were a street rat, Oliver, but really now, I ashamed."

"W-wait a moment. I don't need... I don't dance-" I started, but I was cut off again.

"Aw don't be so short-circuited. Oliver is a mighty fine dancer. Go on now, get up."

"Narsi, we really don't have time for a dance. This isn't just a visit this time."

I watched her green eyes narrow very quickly, a rose-gold tongue sticking out from her mouth. "Fine. You don't have to be a gentleman, same as you don't need the pastry puffs I brought out especially for you. You know..." She paused, starting to lightly scrape her finger back and forth across the table. "Your favorite..."

"Fine then! Just one dance." With that he was grabbing my hand, tugging me away from the table and on top the open floor in front of the stage. I heard cheers from other Automatons as they watched him make his way over. He didn't seem to mind the attention as much as me though, as the band started to play another quick-paced song.

He began to grab my hands, when a thought occurred to me. "Oliver," I whispered, trying not to draw too much attention. "I'm still dressed as a man. Am I supposed to lead, or follow? Would that break my cover, or should I just sit back down?" I had never been much of a dancer anyways. Not even when I was invited to a schoolmate's diner party as a child. I had sat alone in a corner, too tall for anyone to even want to ask me to a dance, and when I had tried to dance alone, I only managed to trip on my own skirts.

"If you sit back down, I don't get my food. So don't worry too much. The Automatons are not the judging kind of crowd. As for leading or following, you have the option to do either one. I fill in whichever you don't pick." With that, he took a step closer to me, and bowed. "Are you ready?"

The music started, and though I knew the music was much different to what I was used to, even the moves were different. With no skirt to trip on nor corset to hinder my movement, I found that I was able to move much more freely, and in time. I neither fully lead, nor followed. I would grab Oliver's arm, and he would swing out dramatically as I held him in place for a moment, only for him to fall back and twirl me around his back. It was a funny sort of thing. All improper and mismatched, but I could see in between swings and spins around the floor, that he has this huge grin on his face. Just enjoying the sporadic rhythm and moves, and surprisingly enough, I was too. We were grinning, silly as fools, in a room of rowdy machines and rambunctious music, and it was fun.

Finally, I met Oliver at the front again, and I decided to go for it, since we had already done so much already. I stuck out my leg, and let him lean back on it as I pulled the opposite direction to form one final, striking pose. The song ended and we stayed there, panting like dogs, him spread out across my leg, arm held out at full length, and I doing the opposite on the other end. We made eye contact, and just couldn't stop smiling. It was contagious.

"... And you said...you didn't... dance," Oliver managed to get out between breaths. I didn't even answer, I just looked out, to the crowd of Automatons around us, all watching with wide eyes. Then they burst into cheers as we returned to standing, and headed back to our table.

"That was amazing you two!" Narsi started as soon as we sat back down. "The best performance I've seen in months. Not to say we Automatons can't dance, but it's just not the same. And really, Evangeline, I didn't think you had it in you. Just beautiful."

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it," I responded politely. I went to reach for one of the pastries I had seen on the tray before, the one's Oliver had worked so hard for, but instead my hand just brushed metal, and I looked up to find that every last puff had made it to Oliver's own mouth, his cheeks as puffed as a squirrel's.

"Oh, don't expect to actually get any of those." Narsi laughed. "It's just peach-flavored brioche bread filled with creme, but Oliver's obsessed." She laughed again. "Anyways, now that I've had my fun, what brings you here? I thought Finch was too interested in the ladies to watch the kids for you to come hang out here anymore, and you brought a lady yourself now. What's happening out in the big world?"

"Have you at least heard about the Lexington district manager being murdered by his heartsmithed wife?" Oliver began abruptly.

"I mean, of course I have. How could I not? It's been all over the radio."

"Well... she's the Heartsmith's daughter."