"Not my teeth?" Jack grins, trailing his tongue over one of his fangs.

Jack sighs in that hug and just lays against the angel reluctant to move. "Tips?"

In Jack's world this offer meant a little different than Balthazar intends. He's seen this though in establishments on the fringes. They brought in street rats, usually prostitutes, to run the bars because the right one had sway with the locals and tips was a fancy euphemism for turning tricks. Jack milled it over.

"I'd need to bring the kids here and spend a lot of my days at home, in my universe. I don't know if I could spend all my nights working here. I have things to do at home, Balthazar."