Dancing with Danger

The Vortex Underground

One of the trendiest nightspots in London, the Vortex Underground has sleek, modern look to it. Lots of blue and magenta neon lighting, black and chrome decor, and a variety of levels surrounding the dance floor make it an ideal 'meat market' for a party night. Add to it the gimmick of the dance floor itself - a large milky-white square gridded off by black bands. Screens are installed under the dance floor, allowing for a play of light and images to appear beneath the dancers feet. In any other club, it would be seen as 'trying too hard'. But, somehow, the Vortex manages to pull it off.

The music in the place is loud. Loud enough to be heard down the block, in fact. And it always carries a heavy beat, to encourage dancing. There's a regular rotation of DJs, most of them well-known throughout the city. The wait staff dress all in black - the men in black silk shirts and dress trousers, the women in little black dresses.

The menu is sparse, but just as trendy as the rest of the place, with exotic names for even the most common of dishes. And the prices are higher than middling average, but lower than high end. Still, it's considered the place to be among its demographic? which tops out somewhere around age 25.


aidanboyle08.jpg ds01.jpg
Aidan Corrie

Fast cars, sleek cars, expensive cars, valet parking and pretty little rich kids and up and coming generation Xers are the bread and butter of Vortex. Aidan turns his silver BMW convertible over to a barely out of school kid, who at least looks as though he's been doing this for a while because he doesn't gawk at the car, nor does he grind the gears as he pulls it away from the curb. Good thing too, because if that had happened, Aidan would have had to get his name and come back later… and it wouldn't be pleasant for the kid at all.

Vortex is busy tonight, but Vortex is always busy. The line winds out the door and down the block, expensive clothes, jewelry and perfume on living and breathing vanity ads waiting for their chance to step inside and shine for a little while. Because this is one of Aidan's favorite haunts, he does recognize a few faces as regulars, and a few he might would have recognized if he cared about the women he wined and dined on; but he's not even a memory in their minds and they're easily forgettable, and Aidan likes it that way.

The VIP line and entrance is short, and those who step into it are given either looks of envy, looks of hate, or some combination of both. Aidan is one of those, and the looks don't bother him at all.

"Evening," the well dressed man at the door greets Aidan, with a smile of familiarity. He leans forward to lift the red rope, but Aidan gives a shake of his head.

"Not yet, mate. I'm waiting for someone," Aidan says as his eyes begin to track the crowd.

Will she, or won't she?


That's the question of the night, isn't it?

Is Corrie upset enough to actually consider a date with Aidan? Oh, it wasn't voiced as though it were a date. A mere evening at a nightclub she's never been to before. One with a large enough crowd that she could lose Aidan if she really wanted to, she's sure.

Truth is, when Corrie saw the vehicles she very nearly turned back. Disappeared into the night. She considered going home to wallow her mood in a tub of ice cream and a sappy movie.

Instead, she parked herself around the corner and walked toward the entrance, stopping every so often to peer through the crowd to find Aidan — her way in.


Aidan actually spots Corrie before she spots him, but of course, she's looking in the wrong place. That auburn hair though, peeking in and out of the crowd, is hard to miss when one is looking for it. He doesn't move from his spot right away, instead watching the witch move through the crowd, secretly surprised that she didn't take the opportunity to run. Of course, she is upset and she does have a bit of a need to court danger, so maybe it isn't so surprising.

Aidan is trying to get a beat on her mood, watching her mannerisms, in the way he does when he is hunting prey. He's not so much hunting the witch, however, as he is luring her in … which is a game that will last as long as he doesn't lose his patience.

Still, from this vantage point Aidan has to admit that she's a pretty little thing, and he's not the only one who's noticing it; she's receiving several interested looks as she walks along, and Aidan decides it's time to stake a claim. Because as much as he is playing nice, he's not here to watch her go home with some loser bloke.

Pushing away from the wall, Aidan walks towards her, a smile on his handsome face, blue eyes twinkling. "You made it," Aidan says when he reaches her side.


"I did tell you that I would," Corrie points out quietly, not at all surprised when he's able to find her in the crowd. She figures that it's one of those vampire-things.

There is a little nervous fidgeting and she takes a deep breath. "Are you certain we can get in? It looks as though the place will be absolutely packed, and I still feel as though I'm ruining your evening."


"I am positive we can get in," Aidan promises her. "And if I thought you were ruining my evening, I wouldn't have asked you to come along." He steps up beside her, pressing a hand gently to her lower back as a point of contact to guide her. It's a light, innocous touch, and his hand doesn't try to stray anywhere else.

He smiles as he guides her past the line over to the VIP entrance, to nod to the same gatekeeper who greeted him earlier. "Might we?"

The man looks over at Aidan, then at Corrie, his gaze giving her a frank appraisal before he gives Aidan an appreciative nod. "Enjoy yourselves." The rope is lifted and Aidan motions for Corrie to proceed before him.


There's a slight jump when Aidan's hand settles against her back and guides her along. Corrie smiles at the bouncer and manages a somewhat happy, "Thank you," as the rope is lifted.

Stepping in front of Aidan, she makes her way into the nightclub proper, staring at the blue and magenta lighting trying to get a feel for the club itself.

For an instant, Corrie feels… old. The general crowd here seems to be quite a bit younger than she is, but she ignores that. She's done feeling down with herself tonight. She's going to dance, have a spot of fun, and head home. Everyone else be damned.


Aidan follows behind, admiring the view with an upward turn of his lips. When she stops, looking around, Aidan stops as well, waiting for her to get her bearings and adjust in whatever manner she needs. After a few moments, he leans in - mostly because he has to in order to be heard by her over the music, at least until they move to a quieter spot - and asks, "Would you like a drink?"

He's sorely tempted to ask if she wants a shot of tequila, but bites his cheek to stop the words from bubbing forth.


Another jump when he's talking right in her ear. Corrie laughs at herself, then shrugs. "Whatever you're having," she replies, pointing at a small standing table across the dance floor. "I'm heading over there."

She fully suspects that he'll find a distraction on the way to the bar, but she doesn't care. She's got every intention of dancing her way across the club to get to that table before anyone else can claim it.


His eyes track to where Corrie is indicating and Aidan gives her a nod. "I'll meet you there," Aidan promises, and makes his way to the bar, which is far easier said than done. It's a dance all of its own to navigate the weaving flow of bodies, and he won't say that he doesn't let his gaze stray once or twice to a nicely formed body that is wearing a skirt too short, dress with not enough back, or top that's too tight. Still, there's no encouragement when eye contact is made, Aidan having the single goal of reaching the bar to order the drinks.

Once there, Aidan signals the bar tender and actually waits his turn, twisting around to find Corrie again in the crowd of bodies gyrating to the pulsing music.

The vampire wants to keep an eye on her.


Corrie is having little luck getting to the aforementioned spot, the bodies on the dance floor shifting her this way and that until she nearly gets turned around.

She feels her elbow grabbed as she's directed off the dance floor. For a moment she thinks it's Aidan, and she laughs when it's not. She immediately throws her arms around the man and gives him a very friendly hug, striking up a conversation with him and leading him toward the table.


The interaction on the dance floor is not unnoticed, not when Aidan has his gaze locked onto the movements of the red head witch. He straightens, eyes narrowing with annoyance and a hint of fury. That was not in the game plan tonight. Aidan knows he's playing on a very narrow field, and has to tread carefully; he really neither wants nor needs the competition. He doesn't want to remind the woman of what he is, and how much he isn't human.

"Your drinks, mate." The 'tender sets the drinks on the bar, pulling the vampire from his thoughts.

Aidan turns, the coolness in his eyes fading as quickly as it appeared, replaced with affable humor. "Thank you," Aidan replies, taking both drinks and leaving a healthy tip for the 'tender. Then it's a careful navigation, across the club to the far table. A graceful dance when balancing two drinks without spilling either of them.


"You've got to be kidding me. They actually did that to you?"

"I'd rather you not make a huge deal of the matter, Connor. It is what it is." Beat. "Just don't tell Tris, okay? He's a bit irked that I'm not working with you lot these days, and I don't want to set him off. It's not Mr. Owens' fault, and he'll ensure you have the best representation."

When Corrie spots Aidan, she waves him over rather cheerfully. "There's my escort. Stay at least for introductions? I can't say that you'll… like him, but he's been nice enough to try and break me from this funk."

"You know Tristan's here, right?"

"Tris is here? Seriously? This is definitely not his scene."

Connor snorts, sweeping his hand through his hair. "It's not, but the dark haired beaut on his arm is his scene."


The music is loud and pounding, thrumming and driving all around them. The poor mortals either can't talk, or have to raise their voices a bit to be heard over the driving sound. Aidan is fortunate in that not only can he hear without straining, he can also still hear a good distance away. Therefore, he's able to catch the tail end of Corrie's conversation as he approaches, and something of the annoyed tension curling in his shoulders and gut uncoil.

By the time Aidan reaches the table, he has a broad, friendly and non-threatening smile on his face. He hands Corrie one of the drinks with a teasing, "Aren't you the little social butterfly, Corrie?"

A polite lift of his glass is given to the man with Corrie, "G'evening." Drink is switched so that the right hand may be extended, "I'm Aidan. Friend of Corrie's?" Again, the vampire is able to be as charming as a prince.


"Hardly," she scoffs with a laugh. She glances at the licorice in her glass and blinks at Aidan. Stirring the drink with the licorice 'straw' she glances over at Connor.


"Connor Finlan," the man offers, shaking Aidan's hand without any reservations. "S'pose you could say so, mate. Known'er since college. Right little brat she was then."

Looking innocent, Corrie shifts her foot just enough to kick Connor on the shin.

"Ouf. Can't say she's changed too much since then."

"Oh be quiet. And keep Tristan out of trouble, yeah?" Beat. "Actually, I'm not representing you lot now, so what do I care? Go make a right bloody mess of your lives for all I care."


"Pardon my manners. Connor, this is Aidan Boyle."


Aidan is able to make a great leap and inferences from the conversation. This Connor bloke must be one of the members of the band that Corrie represented, before they signed on with Reese Entertainment. He really did do his homework. Or benefited from the homework that others did.

"Well, some things do seem to never change," Aidan says cheekily, pointedly not looking at Corrie.


"Pleased to meet you, Connor. Will you be joining us?" Aidan has no problems being friendly and cordial, particularly if the bloke isn't the threat that Aidan thought he was. He might be a threat still, but charming Corrie's friends can't hurt Aidan in the long run.


"Nope," he says, popping the 'p'. "Just thought I'd rescue a damsel in distress. She looked out of place."

It earns Connor another shin kick, to which he laughs. "Maybe we'll catch you later in the evening?"

"No!" Corrie glares at Connor, and clears her throat. "What I mean is you're welcome to come back if we're not dancing it out, but don't bring Tris around." Fidget. "I don't want to explain the whole situation to him. Not when he's having fun."

Connor nods, and tips his head as he starts to move off. But not before giving Corrie a thumbs up which causes an extremely deep blush.

"You shush too," she says to Aidan as she takes a long sip from the licorice straw.


Waiting until the other man is out of earshot, Aidan leans back against the table, propping one elbow there. His head rolls to pin Corrie teasingly beneath his gaze, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were ashamed to be seen with me." Beat. "Though I'm pretty sure your friend Connor approves of me."

Aidan watches her take a drink through the 'straw'. "It's a new drink that I just learned about. I was surprised the bartender here knew of it. It's a Frisky Witch." Aidan bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.


"Ah, no." That's part of it, but not all of it. "I'd told him about the contract with Reese Entertainment Media, and I don't want him acting like an arse on my behalf and lose his contract." Actually, Corrie would love if REM had to break the contract, but she wouldn't really wish that on her best friend. He worked hard to get where he is and he deserves the record deal.

"Connor…" Frown. "Connor is likely just happy because he thinks I'm bringing you home with me." She takes another sip and nearly spits the drink out.

"You're joshing. There's no way it's called that. Honestly."


"Well," Aidan lifts his drink and takes a swallow. "We all know that's not happening tonight." Another swallow of the drink is taken, as Aidan appears to be completely accepting of the situation and not even the least bit disappointed.

The near choke and spit do affect Aidan, however, and his shoulders shake with a light chuckle. He holds up his hand, "Scouts honor." Beat. "Well, I wasn't ever a scout, but I swear to you. That's what it's called."


Were Corrie in a more… challenging… mood, she'd likely say 'play your cards right', but they both know even if she did, she'd never follow through. "Not a bloody chance," she replies with a grin. "I tend not to do that."

Giving the drink a curious look again, she laughs. "I would never have thought a frisky witch tasted like licorice, but why the bloody hell not?" She pulls the licorice straw out of the drink, gently licking and sucking all the alcohol from it before setting it on the table. Then she throws back the drink in a big gulp, downing about half of it at once.

"I still feel a tad over dressed." Beat. "And old for this crowd."


"Yes, yes, well aware." Aidan rolls his eyes, and for a brief moment wonders why he is even playing this game with this witch again. Is it only a matter of pride and ego? The possibility of watching her slip and fall from her high moral perch? The delightful thought that with patience and time and the right amount of manipulation, she could be pulled from that pedestal and brought down to places oh so dark and twisted?

Probably all of the above.

"I wondered about that. I always thought it was more of a cinnamon taste." Beat. Aidan lifts a brow at her, "You had to know that I was going to go there, when you gave me such a lead in."

He watches her lick the licorice with a half-grin, but giving her no more satisfaction than that from the little show she's putting on. Aidan takes a few swallows of his drink, though the way she tosses the drink back does earn her an amused brow lift.

"You look bloody fantastic, and old is hardly the word I would use to describe you." Beat. "I know old remember?"


"You look what? Twenty five? Twenty eight at the most, Aidan. You hardly know old." Corrie turns a little red at the mention of cinnamon and then looks out at the dance floor.

Part of her wants to ask him if he's joking, or speaking from feeding on Gwen. Part of her really doesn't want to know the answer.

Sipping at the drink a little more slowly now, she blinks at him. "I do have club clothing, you realize. I tended to frequent them quite often with Dumnonia, and a few of the other clients I was working with." Beat. "Thank you though."


"Twenty-six, as long as we're talking age," Aidan admits. "In my day, I was already an old bachelor. Or was that an old bastard?" Wink. "Don't worry, I know never to ask a lady her age, though, if I had to guess …" Aidan trails off consideringly, his crystalline eyes coming to rest on Corrie for a long studious moment. He uses the licorice to stir his glass. "I would guess twenty-eight." Aidan knows damn well how old Corrie is, but he's going with his initial guess when he first met her.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." Beat. "Let me guess, there's not going to be a next time?"

Aidan sips his drink through the licorice straw, dividing his attention between watching the dance floor and watching Corrie.


Corrie wrinkles her nose at how old he was when he was turned, and finishes off the drink. "All done," she says in a playfully sing-song manner. "That's generous, though you do realize flattery will get you nowhere, right?" Quirking her brow, she hears the first synthesized beat of Cascada starting and she grins.

"I'm going dancing," she comments, not answering his question.

She doesn't move too far from the table before she starts to dance quite perfectly to the beat of the music, ignoring everyone around her as she reaches up to the ponytail and draws it out of the elastic to let her hair spill about her shoulders.


There's another overly dramatic eyeroll at her comment regarding flattery, but Aidan says nothing. His ever attentive gaze follows her on the dance floor, watching her with a mix of amusement and interest. He shifts his weight, laughing when she pulls her hair loose from the pony tail, and making quick work of tossing his drink back, Aidan smoothly dances his way out on the dance floor to join her. He stops just inside of her personal space, but broaches no closer, his movements a synchronous compliement to her own.


Shoulders shift back and forth as she moves and mouths the lyrics, Corrie sets her hands into her hair and just throws herself into the music. She wasn't joking about needing to dance out the frustration she was feeling at the events earlier in the evening. When Aidan joins her, she just affords him a little look, twirls so that her back is toward him and continues to dance. She's not really ignoring him, just letting loose and having a little bit of fun.


Aidan makes two observations: One, the little witchling can dance, and two, she looks good doing it. Not that he has any intention of letting on that he noticed either of those things. Ironically, the best way to get close to her seems to be in allowing her to think that he no longer has any interest in doing such a thing. It's reverse psychology in action, but Aidan is more than willing to do whatever works.

When she turns her back to him, Aidan merely smiles and gives a slight shake of his head, continuing to allow the music to move him, guiding his feet and body through the bass and tempo. He stays just close enough to make it clear that he's dancing with her, but keeps enough distance for her comfort.


When the song finally winds down, Corrie laughs and slowly starts to pull her hair back up into a ponytail. She's not certain that she'll follow, but she returns to the table and curses herself for finishing her drink so swiftly.

"God, I needed that," she comments, mostly to herself. Giving her head a shake, she leans in against the table and just watches everyone that's still dancing. She looks thoughtful for a moment, before that disappears and she turns to watch Aidan.

There's a conversation going on in her head, and she's quite certain it's due to the alcohol floating around in there. Especially when she can very nearly see the two participants, the conversation is that vivid.

Devil: Oh go on. You know you want to. Look at him. Do you really think you can do better?

Angel: He's soulless. You really shouldn't. Blood sucking fiend, remember?

Devil: Pfft. Throw caution to the wind and live a little, would you?

Angel: Corrie Amelia Kavanaugh! Do you realize what your mother would say if she knew you were even considering such things?

Corrie rubs at her temples and then shakes her head. Tristan is here, don't do anything stupid.


With the change of the music, Aidan is aware of Corrie's departure from the dance floor. He holds up his hands in mock surprise, gives her what is probably a far too devilish smile, and continues to move on the dance floor though he's his own dance partner now. Evidently it doesn't matter to Aidan, and he flows from one song into the next, shoulders rolling and hips moving. He crooks a finger to invite her back, but doesn't push the issue.


There is a look given to Aidan that says, 'you're kidding me, right?'. She shakes her head, looking to the glass momentarily.

Corrie should go get a glass of water. She'll have to cross the dance floor to get there though, so with a sigh she winds her way back through the crowd toward Aidan.

"Fine, but water after this," she says as she falls into the rhythm of the music.


"Promise," Aidan says, dancing closer into her personal space. "You have some moves there, Kavanaugh." Then with a step and a twist, he's dancing around behind her, his body swaying and moving lithely to the rise and swell of the music, hips, shoulders and chest rolling and gyrating. It's clear that the almost four hundred year old vampire is both comfortable in his body, and is enjoying letting himself go to the music.


Corrie has no issue allowing the music to take over her again. The beat, the constant movement required takes her mind off of her failed date and contract earlier. The morning will be time enough to dwell but for now? Dancing.

"Thanks," she calls over her shoulder. "I'd compliment you as well, but you've had many more years to perfect the skill."


Aidan slides closer, just enough so that he can drop his words into her ear. "But see, I'm going to take that as compliment anyway. So, thank you." Then, he's gone again, but only to move around to dance in front of her again. There's the temptation to work his way in closer, to put his hands on her hips and draw her into another level of the dance, but Aidan doesn't follow through. However, there might be a brief flash of something in those blue eyes as he licks his lips - something sensual and suggestive, blink and you'll miss it - before the only thing readable on the vampire is simply that he's enjoying himself.


Was there a flash in the eyes? Did she catch that? Corrie blinks at him, and then twists away from him again so that he doesn't catch the blush.

Damn it all, Corrie, get yourself together. If you run off to the loo here, you'll be in line for ages. There's a pause in the thought. Not that it'd be a horrible thing. It'd keep you from forgetting what he is…

When she spins back toward him, she smiles and laughs, playfully shoving at his shoulders as the song begins to bleed into the next. He did promise water.


The vampire doesn't need to be 'told' twice. He often is told twice, thrice and many times more, but it's because Aidan abides by his own rules and does what he wants, when he wants, as long as it doesn't upset the natural order or put him in danger.

"I promised you water." Aidan holds out a hand to her, "Just so we don't lose each other in the madness." Beat. "Or you can watch the table. No one has stolen it yet."


There's a moment of hesitation before she places her hand in his so that she can be lead toward the bar. Corrie has little fear of their 'table' being taken, there's empty glasses there now. Someone may lean against it, but she doesn't care. They can reclaim it when they return. As it is, with her hand in his she's every intention of dancing toward the bar with him.

Which is when she notes that someone is taking pictures here tonight.

Bloody hell. That's all I need now, to wind up in another tabloid, associated with another playboy.


Aidan too, has seen the flash of cameras. As much as he loves the spotlight and living on the edge, he does try to avoid being caught in it too often. It makes it easier to play loose and free with his age, to keep the questions away.

Still, he's nothing if not skilled at this, and it is a dance toward the bar, always carefully making certain that neither he nor Corrie ever faces a camera directly. Even doing so, Aidan keeps it fun, once even giving Corrie a little spin and drawing her in close to his body, but leaving a few inches of air space between them. He keeps a smile on his face, and a mischeivous glint in his eyes the whole while.

The bar is crowded, unfortunately, as the club is filling up as well as the night stretches on, and Aidan tightens his grip on Corrie's hand as they slide up to the bar, pulling her gently up beside him when they get there, and they wait for thier turn to order.


Honestly, with Corrie's mood right now, she'd have no qualms with posing for the cameras. As it is, she lets Aidan keep her from facing them, keeping the dance toward the bar light and fun. She places her order for the water and waits, knowing full well that actual drinks take precedence because they mean more income. Once she's got the bottle in her hand, she leans in to whisper, "Thanks for inviting me. I needed this."

That's all there is. No kiss. No sign of outward affection. Just the acknowledgement that he was there when she needed someone to distract her, and that she's quite pleased by that fact.

"Let me grab a sip and return the bottle to the table. Your choice for the next song."


For all intents and purposes, the handsome vampire doesn't look as though he expected anything more. No, that's not precisely true. His eyes widen momentarily in surprise at her willing closeness and the whispered words of thanks. He wasn't expecting the words anymore than he would have a kiss or any sign of encouragement. There's no doubt in Aidan's mind that he'll be circling back around to the club for a quick 'pick me up' after he sees Corrie off tonight, but it's a small price to pay if he makes any leeway with the witch at all tonight.

After all, it's not like he ever goes long or wanting for companionship.

"You're welcome," Aidan says simply. The only hint that he's even remotely affected is the slow swallow he gives, and the quick lick of his lower lip. Then, that moment too is gone, as he playfully asks, "Think you can keep up with me?"

It's going to be another weaving gyration toward the table, but this time Aidan lets Corrie lead the way. If she can.


Damn it all.

That gulp, that lick of his lower lip, fleeting as it is causes Corrie to pause and bite her lip as she tries to figure out why he just did that. She takes a big sip of the water and sets the cap back on it before she leads the way to the table — never once letting go of his hand. There's not a chance she's losing her 'in' in the crowd at this point. She knows she's safe enough. Both Connor and Tristan are here tonight if she needs a lift back to her flat, so she's a bit more relaxed than she might have been.

"Hardly," she calls back toward him, her voice a tad louder than his to compensate for the beat of the music. "I've not got preternatural prowess…"


"Oh, yeah," Aidan says as though he might have forgotten that he's a vampire and she's a mortal.

Beat, and then he smirks, "That is my cross to bear, isn't it?" He's following her obediently, with a bemused expression on his face, though occassionally his gaze slips and focuses somewhere other than the back of her head, and sometimes that look flashes in his eyes again.

He's a hunter and he doesn't like restraining himself to get at his quarry. It's only worth it when there's a huge payout, and the jury is still out on whether or not this will be one.


"I suppose it is," Corrie says, sipping at the water again before recapping it. So the conversation will continue. Small sip. Recap. Small sip. Recap. All because it's easier to focus on that then to let the Devil-On-Her-Shoulder dictate the evening.

Techno music keeps playing, and she doesn't run out to jump into the fray. Until a slightly older song seems to be played by the DJ, although it's definitely a dubstep remix of the song.

Corrie tosses Aidan a grin. She sets the bottle of water on the table and reaches up to unleash her hair again. This time the elastic is tossed at him and she wanders to the black and white dance floor, just to let herself go again.


The vampire's hand goes up, reflexively and instinctively catching the hair elastic out of the air. With a wickedly appreciative grin, he makes a point of sliding it onto his wrist. He leans against the table, his gaze tracking the witch's every movement on the dance floor for at least the first two stanzas of the song before he works his way out on into the pulsing crowd to join her.

This time, Aidan does push the envelope a bit, sliding around behind her, his hands come to rest lightly on her hips. He presses in close behind her, but still the only point of contact between their bodies is where his hands touch her, as he rocks and teasingly grinds in time with her. If she pulls away, he'll allow her to go, but Aidan has never been able to resist nudging things just a little bit further.


Nelly's song isn't awful. It allows Corrie a bit of fun, relaxation, and teasing all at the same time. She catches a few eyes, but she's not really looking to catch eyes, so she just dances, unabashedly allowing her body to shift and twist to the beat of the music, not really caring that Aidan's got his hands to her hips. He's not touching her otherwise, so she's safe.

For now.

There's a slight drawing away of him while she pulls off her shrug and tosses it toward their table. Honestly at this point she doesn't care if she'll ever see it again. Tonight is about blowing off steam and throwing away the shrug she bought specifically to catch Rhys' attention? Well it says something.

When the song ends and starts bleeding into Beyonce's Naughty Girl, she shifts her demeanor, mimicking the moves in the music video and live show absolutely perfectly, teasing at Aidan. Grinding her body against his without any actual touch.


One song bleeds into another, and when Aidan expects Corrie to opt to take a break, at least to get away from him … she doesn't. Instead there is a not so subtle shift in her, the sway of her body moving from gyrating fun to something most definitely more suggestive and sultry than anything she's done before. Aidan freezes for a second or two, only because he doesn't know whether he should continue dancing, or stop and watch the show the witch is providing.

Corrie's next teasing hip grind makes the decision for him. His mouth lifts in an appreciative smile, and filling her personal space again, Aidan gracefully aligns his body with hers. It takes a beat or two until he catches her rhythm and can anticipate her movements, and begins to mimic and meet the sultry bumps and grinds with his own - always keeping that teasing pocket of air space between their bodies.


There is no running from this — Corrie is just allowing the music to rule her. She's shifting and swaying perfectly to the beat of the song, not missing a dance step. She's not as skilled as Beyonce herself, but she's able to easily mimic the movements and keep Aidan fairly close while doing so.

When the song comes to an end, she finds herself face to face with the vampire, her body pressed nearly against his, just barely touching him. Her eyes widen and it's the first time this evening she looks absolutely terrified.

She doesn't run off — not just yet. Her breathing needs to return to normal. Her heart rate needs to fall before she backs off. So she just keeps her eyes on him, not paying attention to the song that follows up.


Face-to-face with the red head witch at the conclusion of the song, Aidan's most primal and feral instincts want to take over. She is the perfect picture of ripeness for taking, a thin sheen of prespiration coating her skin, eyes wide in fear and breath coming in heavy pants. He can hear her heart racing and even detect the pulsing of all that sweet, delicious blood flowing beneath her skin. The pulse in her throat flutters madly, like a wild bird desperate to be free of a cage, taunting him, begging him to grab her and let his fangs sink into her throat and just taste her.

Aidan's own eyes are a darkening blue, where the pupils haven't completely overcome the irises, and he slowly licks his lips and swallows, his gaze dragging to her mouth before he pulls it away and takes a step, then another back. Such a simple action, but enough to allow him to step back from that slippery slope, to keep playing this game on her terms.

Aidan motions to the table, "After you." Turning to head that way himself …


Corrie stops him. Oh, he takes a few steps back, but she advances. Until they're back to where they're almost touching. Just seconds before he spins away toward the table. She grabs for one of his hands, and eyes wide she leans in for a quick kiss to the cheek.

It's really such a simple, innocent movement, and yet at the same time so much more.

"Thank you," she whispers again, while still holding his hand she leads the way to the table.

Then it occurs to her that she should really run at this point.

"I should call for a car," she mentions, once they get to the table.


The little witchling has no idea how much danger she is in at the moment. Two hundred, two hundred fifty years ago, there would be no question of how and where this would end. With fangs, and blood, and possibly a bit of pain. These days, he'd let her live and just glamour the memories away, but mostly because killing is messy and the clean up is costly.

Aidan is a hunter, and when he plays these games, he doesn't typically restrain himself in this way. There are always dark hallways and alleys to feed those first stirrings of hunger. Lust and hunger, blood and sex are so closely intertwined for him that's it's amazing he can separate them out as often as he does.

For a fleeting moment, Aidan's not even sure why he wants to keep her alive anymore until that innocent kiss touches his cheek. Then he remembers that he has plans for Corrie.

It's enough for him to cover all those darker urges with a lilting half smile and say, "You're welcome."

"You know, if you're not sober enough to drive, I can drive you." Aidan doesn't expect that she will accept, but it would be rude of him not to offer. He lowers his voice and smiles at her, one of his boyish, hand-in-the-cookie jar smiles, "I haven't had too much to drink."


Corrie never doubts for a moment that she's in danger. He is what he is. Just like Gideon and Rhys are what they are. The only safe ones in any of the equations that run through her mind are Tristan and Conner, and even they have their own particular dangers.

Corrie pinches the bridge of her nose and whispers, "Aidan, if you drive me home your face will be plastered all over tomorrows tabloids, while they try to suss out who the red head is."

She finishes that bottle of water and takes a deep breath.

"Stop that. I can't forget what you are," she mutters to herself.


Aidan gives her a point and nods. "You're likely right, but I would have been remiss not to offer." Aidan folds his arms, one over the other on the table. "You wouldn't be here if I hadn't invited you, so it seemed only right."

He's wishing for a drink at the moment, though really there's nothing in the club, that is served from a bottle that's going to quench his 'thirst.' "What about your friend, Connor? Couldn't he drive you home?"


"Yes." Beat. "Yes, of course he could, but I'd be an awful friend if I spoiled his evening." Really, the same goes for Tristan. Either one of her 'boys' could get her home with no issue. Less than a blip on the radar that is tabloid reporting.

"What's wrong," she asks somewhat obliviously.

"I'll be fine. I'll find a way back to my flat, Aidan…"


"Nothing's wrong," Aidan answers, though he's not sure if Corrie is talking to him or to herself. "You were the one who suggested a car, so I thought that you were interested in leaving." Beat. "Which, if you are, at least let me get you a car."


"I am." Beat. "I need to…" Corrie whisks her hair back, holding her hand out for the elastic that's at his wrist.

"… just take me home, Aidan. You can always come back afterward…" She bites her lip and glances at him. "Of course you can always come back afterward…"


Truly, the elastic had been forgotten about. It takes a few seconds to know what Corrie is asking for when she sweeps up her hair and holds out her hand. "Oh," Aidan remembers. He slides it off his wrist and hands it to her, watching her with mild interest as she puts her hair back up in the ponytail.

The request to take her home garners a lifted eyebrow of surprise, but nothing more. Aidan gives a nod, and straightens, "We can leave whenever you're ready." Aidan retrieves her shrug from where it landed on a chair, and every the gentleman, holds it open for her. "I know a back way out of here, too." Of course he does, for a myraid of reasons, and more of them having to do with the tabloids than with being a vampire.


"A back way out — "

Corrie cuts that thought off and merely nods. A back way out, without tabloid notice? That would suit her far better than making the headlines.

"By all means then, after you." Grabbing the shrug, she tosses it over her shoulder and smiles at him.

"I really do owe you one. I don't think I've had quite this much fun since Ilfracombe…"


"Glad to be of service," Aidan replies, and there's no innuendo wrapped up in the word. "Whenever you need a distraction, you know where to find me."

The hand is at her back again, that light gentle pressure guiding her along beside him. Aidan leads her down the corridor toward the toilets, but then veers off sharply to a corridor that's settled on the corner so that it's almost hidden until you've gone past it, unless you know where it is. It's a short one, ending a door with a sign that warns that it's for fire and emergencies only and that opening it will sound the alarm.

Aidan takes a quick look to make certain that no one is watching and gives Corrie a sly grin, "And here's what management prefers that most people don't know." The door is pushed open with nary the sound of an alarm.

Aidan holds the door and motions Corrie through.


The doors open to the backside of the valet station, coming out right where the valet workers to — to a plethora of keys that could mean any one of a number of vehicles.

"Aidan, you really shouldn't have…" Corrie is by no means sotted — she's had her bottle of water, the sobriety is hitting her. It's slow, but she's not seeing two or three sets of keys when she looks at the rack before her, just one.

"I can just as easily have called for a taxi," she points out with a stern look. "I still can if you don't mind making the call…"


"It's not a problem, really." Aidan doesn't even look at the keys, just steps further out and down, and then holds out a hand to Corrie. "Watch your step."

A valet hurries up to the pair, and from the rather accepting look on the young man's face it's clear that Aidan isn't the only person to use this exit when the need arises. "You have your ticket, sir?"

Aidan reaches into his pocket and hands the young man the car tag receipt. The kid takes one look, goes directly to where Aidan's key is hanging and then jogs off promising to return shortly with Aidan's car.


Taking Aidan's hand, she glances back to the valet. Tipsy she may be, but watching the vampire actually searching for the valet ticket has her giggling.

Perhaps she's just a little bit more than tipsy, despite the fact she hasn't had all that much to drink.

"Really, Aidan. Public transportation would have suited me just as well. I will have to pick my vehicle up anyhow." Chances are that she'd likely should have just gotten a taxi cab from Flare.

"You are such a liar. Honestly, go back into the club and have fun."


Corrie is either more sotted than she appears to be or she's messing with him. The former is fine, the latter Aidan will find just a little irksome considering he's been playing perfectly nicely all. Night. Long. Every action has been a response to her, every step forward and lead has been taken by her. As much as he's willing to indulge this, he's not willing to be made a fool of.

Aidan faces her, and uses his index finger to gently lift her chin so that he's staring directly into those pretty blue eyes of hers. There's no malice or threat when he speaks, his voice is sotto and amused, "Corrie Kavanaugh, are you messin' with me, lass?"


Aidan rakes his hands through his hair, leaving it messily tousled and makes a 'tsk' noise as he steps away from her again. "Too late to change your mind, now. They've already gone for the car, so we'll be taking you home."

Another beat.

"I'll make arrangements for your car to be picked up and dropped off."


"Of course not. I just thought…"

Staring directly into those haunting icy blue eyes of his, thanks to that chin lift, Corrie tenses. She's not doing it intentionally, but there may just be something in them that she's seeing and doesn't want to. With a slight gulp and a quick closure of her eyes she takes a deep breath.

"… that you'd want to find someone to…"


Too late now? That breaks the spell, and she nods.

"Thank you. I do appreciate that, though it's hardly fair to interrupt your evening." That 'evening' obviously being his hunt.

When the vehicle finally arrives, she drifts to the passenger seat easily enough.


The valet holds the door open for Corrie, and Aidan slips the kid a generous tip before circling around and sliding into the driver's seat. "Taking you home is hardly going to ruin my evening," Aidan tells Corrie as he pulls the car away from the curb, and gives her a quick glance and amiable smile. After all, the night is still young for him, and there's a lot of it waiting ahead before the sunrises. Of course, there's a good chance he'll go back to this club, or another one, to scratch the itch to feed and shag, but he's not going to share that with Corrie, no matter how much she is trying to nudge the knowledge of that door open.

"Remember," Aidan says with a lopsided smile, "I don't do anything that I don't want to do, Corrie."


"True, I suppose."

Corrie shifts comfortably in the seat, turning her head so that she can gaze out the window for a few moments. Collect herself. Once she does that she seems to calm down once again, and she laughs. "Though I do wonder why you decided to be so nice tonight." Beat. "Not that I don't appreciate it. I do." She needed a friend, and she needed to let loose, and in accepting those things she knows she's played right into his hands — though he's not actually asked for anything.

"I had fun."


The vampire looks momentarily put out by the statement, but he shrugs it off easily enough. "I'm an arse. I admit it." Beat. "I'm a terrible arse to you because you like to push my buttons, and … I like getting a rise out of you right back. But …" Aidan glances toward her briefly before turning his attention back to the road, "You're not so bad when you're not pushing my buttons."

Another glance, actually more of a lingering look is given to the woman in the passenger seat of his car, "I've never lied to you about this, Corrie. When you're not being a pain my backside, you're interesting." Beat and Aidan focuses on the road again, another grin dancing on his lips as he shrugs. "Hell, you're interesting when you are being a pain in my backside." Another beat. "I like you. I really am capable of liking people." Mostly dependent on how well they can used for his pleasure or entertainment, but that's beside the point.

"I'm glad you had a good time. You needed it, I think." Aidan switches lanes and makes a turn. His eyes flash near silver as he tips a flirtatious, but non-threatening grin in her direction. "Anytime you want a dance partner, you know where to find me. You looked pretty good out there."


No, he's never lied to her about that. He likes the challenge. So if she stops being challenging, he'll grow disinterested. Corrie's not decided if that's actually a good thing, considering that disinterest for him likely means her being killed… except that he won't do that because of Gwendolyn.

"No," she says quietly, "No, you've never lied about it." There seems to be a shift in her demeanor again when he mentions liking her. She looks a little uncomfortably flattered by that.

"I attend a lot of parties with Dumnonia." Beat. "Well I used to." And they weren't typically that type of dancing either. "You weren't so bad yourself. But then you've had eons of practice."


"Eons?" Aidan laughs. It's a warm, smoky, happy laugh with no trace of sarcasm or snark. "God, Corrie, I am not that old. I was born after the invention of fire, and I never rode a dinosaur."

Sobering, the vampire looks straight ahead, his brow wrinkling a little as he bites the inside of his cheek and mulls over something inside his head. When he glances to the witch again, the gaze is half-wistful, half-reflective. "I do think that we got off on the wrong foot, you and I." Shrug. "Hind sight is twenty-twenty, right?"


"Eons," she says again, her reflection in the side window showing the grin on her face. "In fact, I believe I'll start to call you Methuselah." Biting her lower lip, she gives her head a bit of a shake. "That's a misnomer. I don't think anyone actually rode a dinosaur."

Corrie shifts her gaze toward him when he mentions that. She knows he's up to something, but for now she'll accept it. "Perhaps."


"Methuselah?" Aidan echoes. His hand snakes out, attempting to find the ticklish spot in her side, while not taking his eyes off the road. It's as flirtatious as he's gotten with her tonight, beyond the dancing, and he doesn't persist for long.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye. "You don't believe me." Beat. "That I think we got off on the wrong foot."

Aidan gives a slight shake of his head, "We crossed each other the wrong way, Kavanaugh. I'm not going to say that I wasn't a total prick, because I was. I still am, I'm just keeping it under wraps, because we were actually having fun. I'm not a kind and gentle teddy bear, and I'll admit, I rather like the barbs we get going with each other. But not always pulling your claws out of my back? That's quite refreshing as well."

Rolling his shoulders, Aidan's smile turns devious. "I tell you what. If it makes you feel better and more like the world isn't going to spin off its axis, I'll be a complete and total arse the next time you see me." Pulling to a traffic light, he lowers his voice and leans toward her, "Though really? I'd like not being that way all the time." Straightens up. "I know we can't start over, but maybe meet somewhere in the middle?"


"Methuse — eek!" Corrie squirms when he catches her ribs and swats at his hand. "Pay attention to the road, you. If I recall correctly only one of us would be liable to survive an accident, and seeing as how I don't have a death wish…"

It's such a childish, human thing for him to have done. Another one of those things that makes it almost easy to forget what he is. "Bloody hell," she mutters under her breath, quickly turning to stare out the window again.

"No, I do believe that you believe that. I just honestly don't trust you." Beat. "Which I've never once lied about." There's a laugh to the last part, and she shakes her head. "You're on. I'll be expecting a complete and total arse. You'd best not disappoint me."

She pauses for consideration to his meeting in the middle, and shrugs.



"I can see that. I haven't exactly been entirely trustworthy." Aidan is more than willing to take the blame, so to speak, and show that he can admit up to his … faults. As for the rest, Aidan nods, "I'll take a maybe."

The vehicle pulls into the car park at Corrie's building and Aidan puts it in park and kills the engine. He leans back against the seat and draws a breath, and then releases it. His head rolls to look at the witch, and he seems on the verge of saying something, but then he rolls his shoulders, and reaches for the door handle. Stepping out of the car, he walks to the passenger side and opens Corrie's door. "I'll walk you to the door, at least?"


He'll have to take that maybe, since it's all she's giving. Tonight was definitely a good step toward better relations, but it was still just a step. She's not going to base everything on him trying to perk her up due to the ass of a thing Gideon pulled.

Corrie's got herself unbuckled and is already starting to open the door when he reaches it. She allows him to open it and carefully slides out of the vehicle. "You really don't need to, it's just a flight or two of stairs. I can manage."

Though she's really not going to argue with him if he insists on walking her to the door like a gentleman.


"It's after dark, and you're a single woman all out on her own. Who knows what sorts of dangerous men might be lurking to take advantage of you? I'd hardly be a good … escort if I didn't see you safely to the door." The words are said with a dancing grin and teasing humor, because the irony of them is not lost on Aidan, and probably not Corrie either. He is one of those dangerous men, except that he's currently no danger to her.

Aidan closes the car door behind her, and uses the remote to lock it. Aidan falls into step behind her, but doesn't place his hand on her back as he has done previously. He just waves toward the building with a grin. "After you."


The irony of his words definitely don't go unnoticed by her. They do, in fact, cause her to laugh.

"I hardly think having one of the most dangerous men walking me to the door is any better than running into George in the hallway." Shaking her head, Corrie moves toward the door to unlock the entrance to her building, and stands there with her foot in the door, not actually going in as of yet.

"I think I'll be safe enough once I'm inside, don't you?"


The vampire laughs at her assessment. He's far more dangerous than anyone she might encounter. "I do indeed think that you will be."

Aidan studies her for a few heartbeats, and then admits, "I had fun tonight, Corrie. Thank you for letting me help and for giving me a chance." He leans in then and places a quick, chaste, feathery light kiss on her cheek. "Have a good night, Corrie."


Every part of her wants to scream at him to stop screwing with her. To stop being so… so… human.

As he leans in, she's honestly quite prepared to push him away. To keep that kiss from landing on her… cheek? Blinking, she just stares at him for a second. Then another.

Then, thanks to a combination of her mood, the alcohol, and the tension that's been in the air since the nightclub, Corrie's hand reaches out to set to the back of his neck and draw him in for an abrupt, somewhat teasing kiss before she steps back as quickly as possible to try and get the door between them.


The hand pulling him toward her, the press of her lips against his, it comes as a surprise. A good surprise, but a surprise. One that Aidan's barely wrapped his mind - or his lips - around, barely responding to her before the little witch is retreating, trying to use the entrance door of the building as a body shield between them.

Aidan takes a half-step to try and follow her before catching himself and reigning in some control. Following her would only be a good idea if he wanted to finish this completely here and tonight, because there would be no other outcome. With a thoughtful look given at the door, Aidan merely licks his lips, catching what he can of the taste of her, and turns away.

"Good night, Kavanaugh," is given over his shoulder as he heads toward his car.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License