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True to Dom's prediction, Zib is still cooling his heels when Sunday rolls around. Being arraigned is a pain in the neck, and it's not like Zib is going to have much luck paying bail unless he can get word to Mitzi, somehow.

They kicked Virgil out after he sobered up. Too much trouble to deal with, and it's not like he can pay a fine or be any use in a jail. Even the bulls have some sympathy with a cat down on his luck, every once in a while.

Not so with Zib. He’s definitely down on his luck, though. The scratches on his face itch with healing, and he could use a bath. A long hot one, with soap and maybe a towel he could use as a pillow, and-

"Daydreaming?" Dom's back, leaning in at the bars. Zib tries very hard not to jump.

"It's night, isn't it?" Zib shows his teeth. "Nice to see you again, Dom Drago of the Treasury. I thought you were too busy for me."

"Just came back to get some papers from my office," says Dom, nodding down the hall. "Thought I'd stop by."

"Chasing after Marigolds," says Zib, wisely. "Right. Good luck."

"And," continues Dom, "I was wondering if you happened to know anything. Anything that might help you get a boost out of here, like your friend."

Zib licks his lips, still catching dried blood from where his lip had been split. It kept reopening and annoying him. It’s going to be hell whenever he gets back to playing - lip injuries and wind instruments don't mix well.

"It wouldn't be anything about your people," says Dom, leaning in even closer. "You think I care much about Lackadaisy? All respect to Atlas' widow, but you're just not playing in the same league as you used to."

"Oh, really," says Zib. "So I just give you some information about our alleged competitors, and you let me fly away out of here?" Fat chance, he doesn't add. Zib knows how the system works, and it's never that easy.

"Something like that," says Dom, a smile playing over his face.

"Nah," says Zib. "I don't have anything to say."

Dom nods, still smiling. "Good luck with your court date," he says, walking away. "I'm sure you'll have someone looking out for you."

"You better believe it," mutters Zib. He thinks about calling something snappy at Dom's retreating back, but he figures he'll go with quiet dignity instead. It's not like Zib's got a lot of it to spare, this weekend.