Jax's transport hovered silently in the pale dawn hours, waiting for Hercules to open the doors for them. The transport was as non-descript as possible, no glitz, no glamour, just sheer class. Angel was curled up in a huge fur wrap, drugged to the gills, skin damned near translucent.
Eighty-four planets in seventy-five cycles and Jax hadn't been sure Angel would be standing for the last concert. Still, they'd survived. Survived and paid the band and packed up and went straight on a forced sabbatical that Jax was purposefully not calling a retirement.
Of course, if he was going into seclusion and pseudo-retirement with the most popular singer in the galaxy -- the Glove is where he'd want to be. They had a fine suite -- four bedrooms, two living areas, two dining areas, five bathrooms, two playrooms and a recording studio. Hercules assured him total privacy and the type of lifestyle Angel needed.
Thank the stars for bottomless pockets.
The doors opened, Hercules coming to help him with their bags. "Jax. Welcome. I wish we were seeing you under better circumstances."
"Oh, my friend, I do, too. Do you have a chair or stretcher for him? He's not coherent." Jax wouldn't even say Angel's name until they were safely settled in their rooms.
"I can carry him if you can't. A chair would have aroused questions. A stretcher even more so."
"I'll carry him; I can't trust he won't panic on you." Jax gave Herc a wry smile. "There's nothing left inside him. He's exhausted."
Hercules nodded. "I'll get all the bags then. I've told the staff we've got a rich Top in, but I didn't mention anyone else."
"Thank you." He leaned in, took Angel's hand. "Come on, baby. There's a nice warm bed waiting for you. Come with me and Jax'll take care of you."
Angel shifted and leaned into him and he lifted, hefting the singer up and keeping the distinctive features well-covered with the furs. "Got him. Lead the way."
Hercules led him in and over to an elevator. "You've been here before so I was able to set the elevator and your rooms up with your palmprint. There are only five suites on your floor and only your palmprint and mine open your door."
Jax nodded, careful not to trip over Angel's covering. "The vidfeeds and commlinks are encoded, yes? The last thing any of us need are reporters infiltrating. I know you have been exceptionally helpful during this situation, Herc. I appreciate it more than I can express."
"Trust me, Jax. I know how to keep a secret and how to make sure my club keeps yours. My employees are extremely loyal. And besides, none of them knows anything."
Hercules led him out of the lift and to a door at the far end of the corridor. The door opened beneath Hercules' palm and then they were in their new home.
"Which door's his bedroom?" Jax smiled at Hercules gratefully as the man pointed the way. "I have spoken with Malachi, asking him to choose a permanent sub for me and perhaps, once my boy's on his feet, someone to... take him out of himself. Malachi recommended your physician highly and suggested not hiring an outsider."
"Doc's the best. Everyone I hire is." Hercules went back to the door. "I'll let Malachi know you're here."
"I appreciate it." He pulled the covers back and got Angel settled, the beautiful face not even twitching. "You've saved my ass, Herc. I won't forget it."
"Neither will I." Hercules winked at him and left, door closing quietly behind him.