“Master Erestor?”

It was too late in the day for anything formal. The library had been closed for several hours. Melpomaen tended to stay late – not as late as Erestor, but late enough. “Yes?” responded Erestor without looking up.

“I need a policy clarification.”

“Cataloging?”

“Uh...”

“Weeding?” Erestor moved the sheet he was writing on and began on a new page. “Acquisitions?”

“Sex in the stacks.”

There was now a streak on the page. Erestor looked up and then set down his quill. “Call security,” he suggested.

“Uh... it... sort of is security.”

Erestor narrowed his eyes. “With Gildor.”

Melpomaen nodded.

“In my library.”

Melpomaen nodded again.

The ruined sheet was wadded up and thrown into the fireplace. “Are they on the furniture?”

“No, sir. They are on the floor.”

“Are they being loud?”

Melpomaen’s cheeks were flushed. “I would not have known they were even there if I had not gone down the aisle to put something back.”

“Did they see you?”

“I doubt it.”

Erestor steepled his hands. “Which aisle?”

“In the sixth aisle.”

“Figures.” Erestor stood up slowly. “Feel free to use the back door, Melpomaen,” he said as he walked across the office and past Melpomaen, out into the library. On his way past the circulation desk, Erestor slid two items off and into the pocket of his robe.

He did not need to count the shelves or his steps to know which aisle Melpomaen meant. He was well acclimated to where things were, and he turned just at the right time, to see the pair sprawled on the floor. For the most part, they were still dressed. ‘Pity,’ thought Erestor briefly as he cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen.” Erestor gave them a few seconds to be suitably startled in the darkened room. “Is there anything I can help you find this evening?”

“Depends on what you are offering.” Gildor had quickly righted himself into a seated position, but Glorfindel somehow was caught terribly off-guard. His foot hit the books on a lower shelf as he struggled to sit up a little.

Erestor pursed his lips. “Books. Scrolls. Information.”

“No, no, not this evening,” answered Gildor back. “Though, there is something else in this library I might like to check out and take with me tonight.” He smiled – no, leered – at Erestor.

“It seems you have already found what you are looking for.” Erestor was careful not to make eye-contact with Glorfindel, which would have been difficult with how the blond stared at the floor.

Gildor smiled and ran his hand up Glorfindel’s leg. “Maybe I want to check out multiple items from the library.”

“I am sorry, but we have a late night policy of only allowing one after hours check-out per person.”

The gypsy gave Glorfindel’s thigh a squeeze, and Glorfindel let out a little pleasured sound that immediately had him turned away in embarrassment. “Pity,” said Gildor. “I suppose I must be content with one.”

Erestor withdrew something from his pocket and set it on one of the shelves out of sight of the pair on the floor. He opened something, picked something up, and a moment later stooped down with an object concealed in his hand. His other hand reached out to take hold of Glorfindel’s wrist. He somewhat roughly pressed the stamper onto the back of Glorfindel’s hand, and when he let go, there was a series of numbers displayed in red ink. “There you are. He is due back in the morning for council.” Erestor pointed to the door across the library.

“I thought you were supposed to offer me a nice day.” Gildor pouted as he helped Glorfindel up from the floor. “So, what would my fine be if I bring him back late... or damaged...?” purred Gildor, much too close to Erestor.

“Go now, before I damage you,” he growled back.

“Ooo. Love it when you get feisty.” Gildor pulled the silent Glorfindel along with him. “You know where to find us if you change your mind!” he called out when they reached the door.

“No shouting in the library!” shushed Erestor as he glared at their retreating forms.