“Finally,” Moira sighs. “They’re all gone.”

The five of them are scattered around the giant sitting room, all of them slouching as much as possible now that all of the nobility had left.

“I thought they would never leave,” Willow muttered.

Everyone hummed in agreement.

Ian for one, had imagined the aftermath of them saving the world would be a lot more fun.

The previous day had been mostly spent finally putting an end to the corrupt royalty that had sat on the throne for so long. With lack of better options, the five of them had taken on the role of rulers for the time being.

They had been ushered to the royal estate and allowed to stay and get some rest. They all slept better than they had in years with the best mattresses in the kingdom paired with blankets made with the finest silk.

They had hoped to kick back and take a breather at the very least when morning came around but they had found themselves talked into giving a number of speeches and parading around town spreading the story of their victory.

Then they had been told that it might be nice to throw a party. They agreed thinking that it would be a nice, fun, enjoyable way to end the day.

They were wrong. The party, if it could even be called that, was mostly filled with important people from the kingdom who had various political suggestions which ensured there was no spare time to engage in the sort of mrambunctiousness a party usually entailed.

Now in the aftermath, the five of them are exhausted from having to act so formal.

Ian closes his eyes and relaxes into his spot on one of the armchairs, fully content to just sit there and enjoy the ability to not have to appear as a pillar of professionalism.

“You know, the night’s not over yet.”

Allen’s words cause everyone to look at him in confusion.

“What does that mean?” Willow asks it with a tone of cautious curiosity.

“It means,” Allen begins, “that there’s still time for us to ditch the sophistication and spend a night on the town.”

There is a moment of silence following Allen’s words.

“Allen Locke.” Ian sounds like he’s just as much in awe as he is in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that we go spend a night finding the best bars in the Kingdom?”

Allen just smiles. “If you three put your hair down and Ian and I shave, I bet we could go unrecognized as well.”

He pauses, waiting for a response. When he doesn’t get one he asks, “well? What do you guys think.”

Evelyn is the first to speak.

“I think that you, Allen Locke, are a goddamn genius.”