Dance with the Devil

Lost Society

A dark womb of black and varying shades of blue encompass the Lost Society nightclub. The room is a fair sized club area, well lit with neon tubing, but arranged in such a way as to cast it's bright glow against the darkly colored walls giving off the illusion of being under water. Walls have a three dimensional facade, created to look like the fallen ruins of Atlantis. To further the effect, a thin, wispy fabric has been stretched across the large geodesic dome that makes up the ceiling, giving it a wave-like pattern. Hanging from interlocking chrome pentagons behind the fabric are small rubber fish and other aquatic life forms that seem to come alive as the lights within flash. A ring of black light surrounds the ceiling, causing the lighter colors in both the club and on the patrons to fluoresce.

Spreading over the dance floor are black iron rails holding state-of-the-art varilights and floods which reflect off of the large disco ball that dangles from the ceiling, splashing the LED dance floor with light. The dance floor itself flashes and pulses to the beat of the music, continually changing colors in a neonic frenzy.

Thick silver chains come down through the 'waves' and hold large, translucent 'bubbles' that are trimmed around the outer edges in complementary shades of silver and blue. These bubbles are actually globe-like chairs with thin, but very comfortable cushions inside of them. Set between each pair of bubbles is what appears to be a fallen column right out of Greek architecture, atop of which is a glass table top. The main attraction is at the back of the club, where both the stage and the bar stand out as full-sized crumbling ruins. Heavy blue curtains of varying shades with seaweed strips hang on either edge of the stage, while the bar has a high-tech, mirrored area behind it.

The music here is blisteringly loud, but startlingly clear. Heavy bass notes throb, speakers buzzing slightly when the volume reaches its peak.


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Aidan Celia (npc) Corrie Connor (npc)

It's been three days since Aidan's been back from Cairo, and he's been so busy playing catch up that he hasn't had a chance to relax. Really relax. Yes, he and Celeste have gone out after the restuarant closes to grab a late night snack, but there's been no all night prowl, no decadent joint hunting that leaves him appeased and well sated for days.

Aidan thinks that he's holding it together, until Celeste drags him out of Flare, back to his flat to change, and alternately teases and badgers him into taking her someplace "fun" where she hasn't been before. It only takes an hour of dancing and drinking, and watching Celeste play off the affections of three uni blokes who don't seem to care that they are vying for the attention of an older woman. Of course their interest could have a good deal to do with the clinging silver dress that just barely hides the matching thong beneath, that hugs her curves and nearly has her spiiling out of the bodice. Whatever the case, she looks good; Celeste revels in playing the prowling cougar, and it is something of a pleasure - a pride really - to watch his child at play.

Not that Aidan is lacking for company: money and membership do have their perks, and he has a VIP table, and a delicately petite cinnamon skinned beauty on one side, and a leggy, buxom brunette on the other. Neither of whom seem to mind sharing him, and all he's needed thus far is a his typical charm and a bit of alcohol.

It's shaping up to be a good night.


Fun seems to be the name of the game this evening. As much as Corrie is good at hiding how she feels from those that are close to her, one person can read her all too well.


Grabbing Corrie the minute she said she was finished work, and tossing her some 'fun' clothing to wear, he dragged her out to dinner, then to a club with the boys. They've been out all evening, and unlike other women in the club she's not having to fend off men or attentions — she's no slouch for that with three of the four band members dancing at her side.

Connor nudges her side as he spins her around. "Isn't that your boyfriend over there in the VIP lounge?"

"I don't have a boy — oh, no. That's my boss." She was almost expecting to see Rhys there, but when she spots Aidan, she shrugs.

"You should go say hello."

"Con-nor! It's my bloody night off!" There's a beat when she spots Celia dancing nearby with a bunch of boys just a little older than Jean. Laughing, she shakes her head. "Come on then. There is someone I'd like to say hello to."

Winding their way through the crowd, she glances down at her own gold outfit and laughs. "Great minds," she says with a nod to Celia. Although Corrie's outfit is perhaps not quite as showy.


"Corrie!" Celeste gives a genuine smile and cheer of delight that manages to be both quietly, southernly demure while gushing enthusiasm. She reaches out and gives the red head a hug, planting a friendly, southern hospitality sisterly kiss on Corrie's cheek. "What a surprise, seeing you here!" Her playtoys are temporarily ignored, though Celeste does blow the nearest of them an air kiss as her attention shifts to the pretty witch… and beyond to the dark haired, light eyed beauty Corrie has with her. Well, if that isn't a theme, Celeste thinks.

Her dark eyes give Connor an appraising once over, before she turns back to Corrie, "And you brought a friend."

There's no glance back to Aidan at the table; Celeste doesn't have to look to know that the older vampire is well aware of Corrie's arrival, and is probably watching them intently without looking as though he's doing so.


Corrie is good at playing the professional, even when on a night off, but there's just something about being hugged by someone who's books you've read cover to cover so often that the edges are worn, that makes it utterly impossible to maintain that air. Laughing, she returns the hug, and smiles. "It's not my usual haunt on a night off."

Connor runs his hand through his hair, glancing between the two women. Another nudge is given to Corrie.

"Sorry! Celia Collins, this is an old school mate of mine, Connor Finlan. Connor this is the author I was telling you about."

Offering his hand out to the woman, he grins. "Charmed." Beat. "Geeze, Cor, and you're letting Tristan miss this?"


"Why not?" Celeste asks. She waves a hand around, indicating the club and the handsome young uni blokes who are still hovering near the queen bee in the hopes of being the lucky drone. Or, would that be unlucky? "There's so much fun to be had here." She punctuates the words with a wink.

There's a good bit of perfect southern demurity in the blush that Celeste allows to grace her cheeks at the reference to her writing career, "Don't believe a word she says, I'm nothing more than any other dime a dozen romance author out there."

The offered hand is taken, and Celeste casts her eyes briefly down to catch Connor's gaze beneath thick dark lashes, her grip lingering a few beats longer than necessary. "Equally delighted, Connor." Beat, and dark eyes turn curiously to Corrie, "Who's Tristan?"


"Because it's too much like work," Corrie points out with a laugh. Keeping Amber out of trouble means quite a few nightclub visits during the week — though most of those run Thursday through Sunday. "Besides, Jean would kill me if I wound up with one of her classmates."

Connor winks when Celeste catches his gaze. "Either of you ladies care for a drink?"

"I'm good," she replies, "And I'm hardly exaggerating."

"You always exaggerate, luv."

Elbowing Connor in the ribs, she shakes her head and laughs. "Just a friend." Beat. "My best mate, actually."


Celeste nods and sighs, "I actually don't do much of this back home." Beat, and again her gaze drifts to Connor, "I let my hair down when I can."

Her tongue peeks out to subtly wet her lips, "I would actually love a drink, cherie. Surprise me?" She played this game and played it well when she was human; it still comes with the same ease as it ever did.

Lowering her voice, Celeste leans in and speaks into Corrie's ear, "Nothing wrong with stepping outside the box, though if you like them a bit older…" There's a not so subtle tilt of Celeste's head toward where Aidan sits, "I know a guy whose definitely got you on the mind."


"I'm on it." Connor gives Celia a definite once over and then winks at Corrie. "Be back in a second, luv. Behave yourself."

Rolling her eyes, the redhead lets out a little 'heh'. "I always behave myself." It's their typical banter.

Once Connor has disappeared into the throng of the crowd, she blinks as Celia directs her to Aidan. "You know Aidan?" Beat. "I mean, Mr. Boyle?" Beat. "I mean, I was aware you knew the restaurant. Of course it makes sense that you'd know him. "Yes, I suppose he's definitely older…"

Her head is given a shake, and she laughs. "That's just a bad idea waiting to happen."


Connor is given an approving appraisal as he makes his way toward the bar for drinks, and Celeste gives a hum of ardent approval. "My oh my, please tell me he really isn't yours?" Because Celeste can feel the menu shifting, and evidently her earlier admirers have figured out that they're not going to catch this particular cougar tonight as they've started to wander to more hopeful pastures.

"Mr. Boyle?" Celeste laughs. "Oh, wow. That's just … Mr. Boyle, really?" There is true amusement in Celeste's tone; Aidan mentioned that the little witch had taken to this perverse professionalism with him, but seeing it in action? That's something else entirely.

Linking her arm through Corrie's, Celeste begins to lead her toward Aidan's table, "Yes, I do know Mr. Boyle. We met a few years back when he was stateside. We hit it off, kept in touch. He's really got a head for business, to be so young." Beat. "And smoking hot to boot."


Corrie is about to protest when she realizes where she's being lead. "Oh, we really shouldn't bother him. He's only just returned from a business trip, surely he'd like to spend the night without worrying about business matters…"

Damn it, Connor, why did you have to wander off?

"Wait, what? Connor? Mine? Hardly." There's likely some sort of story there, but she's not really up for sharing at the moment. "He's a good bloke. Probably the most level-headed of the band, really. Could've been their manager if he didn't have such a penchant for the bass."


Oh, Aidan, are you sure that you want this? Celeste is willing to go to great lengths to assist her maker, but there's a moment where she wonders if the witch is worth the effort he's going to have to put into her. Women throw themselves at him, some of them so far gone that they often don't even care when he breaks out the fangs, but he always did like to make things difficult.

"Then we're just not going to worry him with business matters," Celeste says simply. Corrie isn't going to be able to escape, even though Celeste doesn't have her in anything stronger than a human arm link. "Why did you say it was a bad idea waiting to happen? Sometimes the most wicked ideas are the most fun and memorable."

From the distance, Celeste watches Aidan lean and whisper to each of his little playmates, both of whom smile indulgently at him before vacating the table. Inwardly, Celeste sighs, Oh, Aidan, what am I going to do with you?


"Only in the romance novels," Corrie says with a shake of her head. "Honestly, Celia, involving oneself with one's boss is just generally a bad idea." A quick glance over her shoulder has her trying to locate Connor or Tristan in the crowd. Tristan she spots right off, chatting up some voluptuous blonde. Connor's a bit more difficult to find and before she can track him, she's got to turn around to keep an eye on where she's going.

"I've also had my eye on someone else." Which would explain, at least partially, why she's not simply throwing herself at a 'younger' man who's interested.

How she'd love to say 'He's a blood sucking fiend', but one, they're in public, and two, the chances of anyone believing her are nil. Besides which, she promised not to say a word to anyone else.


"Who said anything about getting involved with him?" Celeste asks cheekily. "I was talking about sleeping with him." It's a bold statement from a woman who manages to be flirtatious while radiating southern softness, and there's a mischeivous glint in her eye. "I hardly think that anyone will think you're trying to sleep your way to the top." After all, Corrie isn't a chef, or even waitstaff. Her position doesn't go up. Also, given Aidan's reputation, no one would be surprised if she subcumbed to his charms.

Celeste cuts a curious glance to Corrie. "Someone else? Is this someone else currently … courting you?"



It comes quickly with a vehement shake of her head. "Regardless, as a freelancer, it's just poor business." Corrie peers over her shoulder again, then bites her lip. She is so not drunk enough for this.

"Courting me?" She laughs a little, trying to force herself to relax. "I swear you just took that from one of your novels." Beat. "No. This someone else is not currently courting me. It's a rather complicated situation." A grin. "Romeo and Juliet, though I've no intention of drinking poison."


At the next glance over Corrie's shoulder, Celeste laughs a little. "I'm sure Connor will find us. If not, I promise to go hunt him down and drag him back to us." Because really, it would be an absolute shame to let that one get away from her.

"You can't really think that?" Celeste gives the red head a considering look. "Sometimes it has nothing to do with expectations and simply what matters between two consenting adults. It's whatever you agree on, and then nothing else matters."

The reference to Romeo and Juliet earns a brow lift and a chuckle. "Considering that they both died at the end, I'd think not." Beat. "There's always room for a quick tumble, anyway. Just … as a distraction…" Celeste trails off as they approach the table, though she knows that Aidan can, or has, heard every word if he's been listening.

"You look lonely," Celeste greets her maker, a slight cant to her head, a playful smile on her lips. "What happened to your little friends?"

Reclined back in the round booth, Aidan's eyes and voice practically smolder and crackle across the table as he takes in the two women, "I got bored."

"Well, it's a good thing we're here to keep you company." She nudges Corrie into the booth beside Aidan, an innocent smile on her face as she wonders if the woman will notice how easily and carefully Celeste placed their bodies. She figures she can always use the excuse that she wanted to sit next to Connor when he returns with the drinks.


"Right. V.I.P. table. I'm certain he'll spot us." Eventually. She was really just hoping he'd catch up a little sooner and whisk her back to the group.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to play matchmaker." Corrie lifts her brow, giving the woman a slightly odd look. "There's hardly a thing wrong with a good tragedy. It was slightly romantic." Beat. "Even though they were both bleeding idiots."

Corrie's last chance to bolt is now, if she can stay on the edge, she can see herself out with Connor finally finds them with that drink. She's about to twist herself to the outside of the booth when Celia slips in right beside her affording absolutely no escape.

"Mr. Boyle."


"Aidan. Your business trip go well?"


The moment the witch slides into the booth, Aidan realizes that this is a supremely bad idea. He regrets sending away Monica and Tara, and he wonders what the hell his child is thinking. He's in a particular sort of mood, and Celeste knows well what that means; she brought him here - or had him bring her here - because of it, and now she's practically teasing him with the red head witch. There's a drink near his hand, and meeting Celeste's gaze over Corrie's shoulder, he tosses it back quickly.

"Splendidly, Corrie," Aidan answers. "But, it's good to be home." The words are moderated, careful and pull a slight frown from Celeste, which disappears as quickly as it appeared.

"Aidan's been sulky," Celeste chirps. "Too much work is making him all cranky." She lowers her voice as though confiding in Corrie a super secret, "He's a bore when he's cranky."

Aidan rolls his eyes and wishes for another drink. "Thank you, Cellie." Said dryly as he lifts his hand to attract one of the roving servers.


"Good. I'm glad it went well." Corrie knows they're not supposed to be talking business, so she refrains from telling him about the plan to have the book signing with an authentic French Quarter type meal, along with a whole Mardi Gras party theme. It would work well at the restaurant and show off just another facet of what Flare is capable of.

"I enjoyed the book you leant me." Beat. Glancing to Celia she shakes her head. "I can imagine. Too much work makes us all a little cranky. But I can hardly see… Aidan… being a bore."

Come on Connor, where on earth are you?


"Me too," Aidan replies and that is genuine relief. There were so many ways that things could have gone another way, and he's just happy to have that little sojourn behind him and be back in London. Still, there is something ever so restrained about his mannerisms, as he taps a single nail against the side of the now empty glass.

He blinks at Corrie and shifts in his seat, actually angling his body a bit away from the witch, "It's not a loan. You can keep it."

With the arrival of the server, Aidan orders a scotch and motions for the ladies to order whatever they want; Celeste declines with a wry smile and a comment that she has a drink coming.

"I can be so many things, Corrie. Doubtful that you'd even scratch the surface imagining half of them." The words are laced through and through with his familiar, slow lazy drawl, but Celeste can see that there's still something off about her maker.

Celeste snorts, "Will you please stop being grumpy, Aid? You really are no fun."


"Vampire's Kiss," she tells the server, with a horribly cheeky look toward Aidan. See? She's not actually told anyone what he is, and yet in her own way she's letting everyone know.

That he's leaning away from her though, that's new. He was keeping his distance before, allowing her to decide how this work relationship (and possible friendship) was going to work out, but that? "Are you certain? It's quite old and valuable." At least to her it is.

Corrie bites her lip, finally catching sight of Connor and waving to him. Just a simple little finger wave. "I think your drink will be here soon, Celia."


Celeste almost laughs at the cheekiness of the order. "I've not heard of that one before," Celeste remarks as the server departs, "I might have to try that one myself someday." She thinks about taunting Aidan a bit with it, but thinks that might be a little too obvious, so she lets it go.

"If you're interested in exotic, off-beat drinks, Celia, you may want to try a Frisky Witch someday, too," Aidan comments dryly, the only hint of humor being the slight upcurve of his trademark smirk. "Though it is something of a teasing drink. Leaves you wanting more."

The elder of the two vampires does not look at Corrie as he says the words, rather focusing his gaze somewhere across the nightclub, though there is still an unmistakeable suggestive lilt beneath every word spoken. Celeste is positive that she's missing something, but it seems that Aidan might be coming out of whatever state he was in, so she's not going to question it.

It's only with the mention of the book that those faded blue eyes swing back around to Corrie. "It is, but I'm sure."

His attention shifts again with the arrival of Connor, giving the other man a polite nod as Celeste gives Connor a welcoming smile, "And Corrie was worried that I was going to have to go out and search for you." She makes that sound far more interesting than the words would suggest.


"Vodka, Peach Schnapps, and if I'm not mistaken, something raspberry." There's sure to be other ingredients as well but at the moment, those are what Corrie can recall.

She nearly chokes on her next words at Aidan's dry comment. Her eyes shift to him quickly, then away. "Sambuca will do that to you." Though she manages the words without them sounding oddly halted, she can't actually hide the blush.

"Er, well, thanks." When Connor actually arrives, she smiles. "Did you find the boys? What are they up to?"

"Typical Tristan things." Which means, 'they've found girls'. "Here you go, luv," he says, sliding the drink toward Celia. "No clue what it's called but it tastes a bit like chocolate and banana."

"Are we supposed to meet up with them then?"

Connor gives her a look that very plainly says, 'yeah right', as he slides in beside Celia.


"Mmm, thank you, Connor," Celeste practically purrs, accepting the drink. She lifts it and takes a sip, closing her eyes as she swallows and fully savors the drink. There's another soft purr as she licks her lips. "I do like chocolate covered bananas."

It's so blatant and over the top, and so Celeste that Aidan has to chuckle softly. It truly is a rare pleasure to watch his child in action, and though Corrie will probably hate him for it later, if she should clue in to Celeste's true nature, Aidan has no intentions of stopping the American vampire from staking her claim - in whatever way - on the witch's friend. He'll simply chalk it up to living vicariously.

"Are you tired of my company already, Corrie?" Celeste mock pouts. "We haven't even done a shot yet and danced circles around these boys."

Aidan shakes his head, a faint smile lingering on his lips. He shifts, stretching his arm along the back of the booth, "I don't think that Corrie does shots."


Corrie leans back to give Connor a look of caution, reminding him that she needs to work with these people. In return, Connor simply laughs at both Corrie's concern, and the absolute over-the-topness of the response.

"No, of course not, Celia." Corrie offers a smile to the woman then glances out at the club again. "I'd just hate to wander and not let my friends know what I'm up to is all." Her protection, actually.

"Pfft. I'm here, Duck."

"Good lord, not you too?"

"What? It's an amusing image and Tris relays it well."

She'd kick him if he weren't on the other side of another person.

"I do shots when I feel like it." Beat. "Just not tequila."


"Oooh, I sense a story," Celeste sing-songs, her eyes dancing. She's in a particularly good place, almost positive that she can get the yummy Connor back to her hotel room, so long as Aidan doesn't intefere. Given how well she can read her maker, Celeste is pretty certain that he has no plans to interfere; on some level, she knows Aidan will likely consider it some deviant sort of one uppance against the witch.

"Nothing wrong with wanting your friends kept abreast." Another long, slow swallow is taken, Celeste making the act of drinking look slightly suggestive. She rests her hand lightly on Connor's arm, "You've got Connor here, though, and …" Celeste leans in again, "Even when he's grumpy, Aidan doesn't bite." Oh, how carefully she planted that one.

A pretty questioning frown graces Celeste's face as the server delivers Aidan and Corrie's drinks, "What's wrong with tequila?"

Aidan looses a low, smoky chuckle, "Yes, Corrie, what is wrong with tequila?"


"Not a thing interesting," she says in regards to the nickname. "It has to do with bright yellow Mac and Wellies, and wandering around campus like a drowned rat. Hardly all that enthralling that someone needed to bring it up now." A dirty look is shot toward Connor, who just laughs it off.

"As for tequila, not a thing is wrong with it. It just causes flushed skin." This time, the dirty look is given to Aidan.

Connor glances down at Celia's hand, and runs his hand through his hair again before he takes a long drink from his glass. After which he settles his hand gently on Celia's knee. "How'd you like to Get Laid?"


"Chill, Cor. It's a shot."


Aidan likes the band member. The man has a sense of humor, and anyone who can enjoy hassling Corrie has to be good for a spot of entertainment, never mind Celeste's all too ready and apparent interest in the man.

"Are you offering?" Celeste asks with a coy batting of her eyes. Beat. "I'd love to … have a drink." She nudges Corrie with her elbow. "How about it Corrie? You up for it?"


As if the situation couldn't be any more uncomfortable at the moment, Corrie half suspects that Aidan is amused by her friend, which may not really bode well for Connor. It's not as though she doesn't recall what Aidan mentioned to her in the past — it's good for him to be entertained, but if he grows bored…

"I don't make offers I don't see through," Connor replies with a wink as he signals to the waitress.

"Hmm?" Corrie was a tad lost in her thoughts that she's not been paying attention. "Still waiting on my drink." Shifting uncomfortably as though she's just gotten a sense of something, she nods. "Just one. I've got to finalize the book signing plans tomorrow morning."


The server arrives to drop off the previous drink orders and to take the new ones. She's a pretty thing, with bright blue eyes and a dark mane of chestnut hair, and Aidan's wondering why he didn't notice it before. He's noticing now however, and in the brief exchange of drink delivery and orders, a few words and smiles and the woman is repeatedly looking back over her shoulder to smile at Aidan.

"Subtle," Celeste accuses with a fond smile.

Aidan gives his child a look that clearly reads 'You're one to talk.' Then he raps his hand lightly on the tabletop. An elbow is rested there and he props his chin in his hand, looking all the world like a bored social partyer. "C'mon, Kavanaugh. There'll be none o' that. It's a night out, not a business meeting."


Polite as ever, Corrie thanks the server. Then she takes a small sip from the drink. It's overly sweet, and decadently red, but she's choosing to focus on the drink rather than the server or those around her.

"There's a lot to be said for lack of subtlety," Connor points out. "Lay all one's cards out on the table. Less suspenseful but leaves no room for confusion or indecision."

Corrie shoots him another dirty look and then shifts her gaze to Aidan. "Fine." It's not like she's on a schedule, or has to do things by a certain time. Provided that she does what she needs to do, and that she's not sick if Amber has need of her tomorrow night…

Another sip is taken from her glass and she grins mischievously at the vampire. "Best Vampire Kiss I've ever had."


Celeste lifts her glass in a toast to Connor, shifting just enough in her seat to press her thigh against his. "I like your philosophy. It's better to be frank and upfront than leave room for misunderstandings." She trails the nails of her free hand lightly up his arm, and takes a sip from her glass, giving him a wink.

Aidan shakes his head, smiling indulgently at Celeste's antics. He really has missed having his child around, and he is glad that she's here, even though it looks like her night out to distract him is working far better to her advantage. Though, the night is still young, and there's the cute server … and really, when has Aidan ever gone home alone if he didn't chose to do so?

Corrie's grin and words draw a speculatively look from the vampire. Lounging back in his seat, still taking care to keep a polite and discreet distance from the witch, he takes a drink of the scotch. Blue eyes watch her over the rim of the glass, and there's the barest hint of friendly, polite flirtation - nothing akin to his usual heavy charm - "The night is still young." Aidan is really not in the mood to play games tonight.


"Come on, Boyle. There'll be none o' that. It's a night out, not your own personal sulk." It's hardly a perfect mimicry of the accent he used earlier, but she's trying to lighten the mood a little. Corrie is ignoring the other two for the moment, trying to figure out what's wrong with Aidan. She's quiet as she sips from her drink, figuring that he's just not fed tonight or something, and she really doesn't want to wind up on the menu. "We can…" A glance over at Connor and she knows that it'll take a great deal of effort to pry him away. "I can go. I know you'd rather it be anyone else here." Her voice is quiet, but she knows the vampire can hear her.

Connor clinks glasses with Celia and then winks back at her. "It's the best philosophy to have. No worrying about strings, no worrying about calls, just call it what it is — a good time."


Celeste is in prime form, and though it provides Aidan a bit of sideline amusement, he's easily able to focus on the woman beside him just as well. There is then, a genuine lift of a smile at her attempt to mimic his native accent, accompanied by a wry, "Don't go into impersonations."

Changing position, Aidan takes another drink from his glass and rakes his hand through his hair. "I'm not sulking, I'm merely …" He trails off and leans closer, just on the inside perimeter of her personal space, fixing her beneath an intense cerulean stare. The vampire's voice drops, a low, soft cadence that won't be heard by Connor, and is really meant for Corrie's ears only. "Isn't this what you wanted Miss Kavanaugh?" After all, she's the one who's made it abundantly clear that she's not the least bit interested, so he's simply giving her what she wants - he's off her back and out of her hair, and in pursuit of other pastures and past times.


"I know, I'm an awful actress." Corrie wrinkles her nose, and finishes her drink, just in time for the arrival of a tray of the shots. Grabbing one before the tray is even set upon the table, she tips the shot glass to her lips and tilts her head back. When Aidan leans closer, she's setting shot one down on the table, and reaching for another ordering another of the drinks she was just having.

"The distance…" Exhaling slowly, she nods. "Yes, of course. Anything else is too… dangerous." Her voice is kept low so that the other pair don't overhear her. Biting her lip she looks slowly away. "But as you've said, it's a night out, and our friends are getting along, and I've already offered to leave if you'd rather I not be here." Beat. "Though I think despite you keeping your distance, you're actually enjoying the company." She considers downing the second shot, but slides it toward him instead. "Go on. Get Laid. It'll probably put you in a better mood."


"Is that what you think?" Aidan challenges, but there's no bite to the words. His voice is still soft, louder than a whisper, but certainly meant to be heard only by her. He draws back with an odd smirk, and accepts the offered shot, though he doesn't drink it immediately.

Lifting the shot glass, Aidan holds it between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it idly. Those blue eyes are still fixed on the witch, sparkling under the flashing lights of the club with a secret that only he knows and isn't sharing yet. "Doesn't getting laid put anyone in a better mood?"

The smirk broadens right before he throws back the shot and returns the glass to the table. Aidan's chin returns to his propped hand, "Would you like to know what would really put me in a better mood?"


"That you're dangerous?" Corrie nods. "That you're actually enjoying the company?" A shrug is given to that. "Though I'm betting you'd be having much more fun with the server." Because, as Celia said, that was hardly subtle at all.

"Yes, I suppose it does…" Which is why she grabs another shot and quickly downs it. The second glass is placed atop the first, and she nods at him once again. "Yes." Beat. Leaning in toward him, she whispers, "Unless you say that it's blood. I'd really rather not know that."


"That's hardly fair. I'm not dangerous to you," Aidan reminds her, but then he hand waves it away before they can ride that carousel again. "You're right. I would be having more fun with the server." Aidan's not going to deny it, because he really doesn't see any reason to pretend otherwise. "I actually have a chance with her." More than a chance, really, that much is clear by the looks the young woman keeps shooting in his direction.

He quirks a brow as Corrie downs another shot. "You probably want to take it slow. I can't guarantee your virtue if you go off the rails. That isn't part of my agreement." Warning delivered - and it is a warning despite the teasing smirk dancing on his lips, despite the brightness of his eyes - Aidan slumps back and watches the witch.

As she leans toward him, Aidan leans in as well, meeting her halfway, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. "That's a given and goes without saying." Beat. The smile morphs from playful to sly, the mischief replaced with something a bit darker, "That's a secret that you're just going to have to figure out."

"What secret things are you two whispering about over there?" Celeste asks, earning an uplift of Aidan's eyes.

"Well, if we told you that, it wouldn't be a secret anymore would it?" Aidan asks in response.

With a roll of her eyes, Celeste tosses back a shot and returns to happily ignoring her 'parent.' Turning to Connor, she offers, "Would you like to dance, Connor?"


"It's extremely fair. You won't kill me, but that hardly makes you any less dangerous." Corrie nods about the server though. "Just ensure you don't kill her," is the only request she makes, because really anything else is his business.

"My virtue?" Snorting, she reaches for a third shot, although she doesn't drink it just yet. Merely sits it in front of her on the table. "You're about fourteen years too late to worry about that."

Connor offers his hand out to Celeste. "Love to. You've got pretty decent moves."

Corrie shoots another glare at her mate, and says, "Don't you forget I'm over here, Connor."

"Not on your life, luv." Beat. "Worst case, I'll find Tris…"


"But I thought you wanted…"

"I do, just not Tristan, okay?"

Shrugging, Connor leads Celia to the dance floor for a little bit of fun.

"I'm not one for breaking secrets, Aidan. You know what'll make you happy, I suppose that's all that's important." Beat. Now that the others are gone, she feels free to say, "You make me nervous."


Aidan rolls his eyes dramatically and keeps his voice low. "It would be nice if you could get it through your head that simply because I chose to spend an evening … entertaining, it doesn't mean that I'm going to hurt or kill anyone." Beat. "I'm really quite civilized in case that has escaped your notice."

He quietly watches in interplay between Corrie and Connor before the younger man disappears into the gyrating crowd with Celeste at his side. Watching the pair walk away, Aidan tosses out, "You do realize that if Celia has her way, she is going home with your friend … or taking him home with her. I really hope that you didn't have designs on him for … less than platonic purposes."

Shifting in his seat now, Aidan leans toward her, breaching her personal space a bit, but not crowding her. Resting his head back against the back of the booth, he rolls his neck to pin her beneath a stark blue gaze. "I assume it's for more than the typical, oft stated and repeated reasons?"


She very nearly laughs at his emphasis on entertaining. Giving her head a shake, she twists the shot glass around with her thumb and index finger before sliding it toward him. "Your idea of entertaining and mine are far different, but I do believe you mean that."

Corrie doesn't pay much mind to Celia and Connor. He deserves the fun, and truthfully it's better than some blonde bimbo she'll have to hear about for weeks. "Been there, done that." Beat. "We honestly are just friends. I've got no designs on Connor beyond ensuring he gets home safely." Just because the Dynasty humiliated her doesn't mean she doesn't want what's best for her friends still. "My less than platonic designs are honestly on… someone else."

There's no edging away from him, no sliding out of the seat and running like she should honestly be doing now that she's got the chance. "It is." Reaching for another shot, she downs it just as the server brings by another round of drinks. She's almost tempted to toy with the woman, to play it up by leaning against the vampire.

Only, she doesn't. She just graciously, and perhaps a tad tipsily, thanks the woman and turns back toward Aidan.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to like the bad boys. You're pretty much the epitome of that persona."


"Again with the preconceptions and judgments, Corrie. Whatever are you assuming that I mean by entertaining?" Not that anyone would ever assume that Aidan is the type to host a cocktail party - unless he's responsible for the catering. He waits until her hand leaves the shot glass before picking it up and drinking it down.

"Really?" The vampire's gaze tracks toward Connor and Celeste again, finding them via the silver glint of lights off of Celeste's dress. "I truly didn't take you for the friends with benefits sort." She seems far too high up on her moral pedestal to deign to lower herself to such baser behaviors. The words and realization bring a slight frown to Aidan's face, a wrinkle in his brow and slight tightening around his mouth. For a moment, he almost forgot where he ranks in the scheme of things where the witch is concerned, and her words are certainly a timely reminder of how careful he has to play this one.

"I'm the epitome of the bad boy persona?" Aidan gives a flirty smile to the server as she leaves the drinks … and her number written on a napkin that she slides across the table toward him with a wink. Aidan carefully folds and pockets the napkin, "I think that might be the nicest thing that you've ever said to me." Beat. "Here I was starting to think that I'm simply an anathema to your sense of morality."

He's avoided saying anything, about her non-platonic interest, but really he can't help himself. Taking up another glass of scotch, Aidan swallows, studying her with quiet and far too observant eyes.

"I almost forgot. You're saving yourself for the sorcerer." Aidan snorts. "Owens. The bloke that stole your band and walked over your pride. Nothing like a little humiliation to warm the cockles of the heart and add a little spice in the bedroom." The words are harsh, and probably pick at a scab that the witch wants to ignore, but Aidan feels they are brutally honest. There's a good chance she'll get pissed off at him and walk away, or dump a drink over his head, but so be it.


"Considering the number you just pocketed…" Corrie slides over another shot. "I'm assuming your idea is not a dinner party, or a relaxing evening." She doesn't bother looking out at the dance floor again when he does. "There's quite a bit you don't know about me. As for Connor…" Shrugging, she grins. "A story for another time, perhaps."

A very small sip is taken from her drink. "Well you very much are." Which is why he's so dangerous. If she allows herself to just forget for even a second what he is… "The epitome of the bad boy persona, that is. You know very little about my sense of morality, except in how it pertains to you."

Without even thinking about it, Corrie's hand comes up to slap his face. In the back of her mind is the knowledge that she's not actually going to get the chance to hit him, but there it is.


"That would all depend on your definition of relaxing," Aidan says with a wry smirk. He pats the pocket with the telephone number. "I am simply a fan of keeping all my options open." He watches as the shot slides toward him, "Are you trying to get me drunk, Kavanaugh? You do realize it's going to take a lot of alcohol to do that?"

A disinterested shrug is given to her remarks. "Ah, so there are shades of gray in Corrie-World, just none where I'm concerned?"

The slap though, Aidan does allow it to connect. Granted, it doesn't hurt as it would have if he were human and mortal, but there is a brief warmth to his cheek where the flat of her palm connects. Aidan brings his hand up to his jaw, mostly for show, rolling his tongue inside his cheek. However, if she's expecting to see the vampire angered or annoyed, the witch is in for something of a surprise. The corners of his mouth curl up in a slow, lazy almost decadent smile and the simmering heat that flashes in his eyes has nothing to do with ire or frustration. Licking his lips, Aidan's voice is thick and dry as he asks, "Feel better?"


Everything else goes ignored, because someone just had to rile the anger and hurt that was bubbling beneath the surface. Corrie is doing her best not to make a large scene, because that would be all she needs, to wind up in the tabloids again. But there's no hiding her anger and irritation. Her eyes hold much more moisture than necessary, her hand actually stings from where she's hit him, and her heart is beating rapidly.

"No," she snaps at him, just seconds before leaning forward to give him a bit of a shove. "Why'd you have to go there?" Beat. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You're a complete arse that takes pleasure in the misery of others." This accompanied by a sharp elbow toward the ribs.


The amount of bitterness and anger that surges out from the witch is unexpected. Oh, Aidan expected the displeasure at his words, but the change in her scent - acrid and sharp, leaving a tang in the back of his throat - is something he didn't account for.

Someone's been living in denial.

Too he allows the shove, though Aidan doesn't intend to allow her to abuse him all night. There is only so much he is willing to allow and overlook, particularly when there is little, if any, gain in it for him. "I am a complete arse, but I'm hardly finding anything remotely amusing about your misery." Mostly because it is boring and human and far more angsty than anything he wants to deal with tonight. The elbow is caught and deflected, quite a bit more gently than might be expected.

"Though, it's readily apparent that I said something that needed to be said." With that, Aidan pushes a shot glass toward her.



Corrie takes the shot, downs it quickly, then sets the glass back upon the table in an almost dainty manner. Her eyes are focused completely on the drink in front of her, and she mutters, "I hate being made a fool of. I hate being made a fool of even more so in a restaurant full of people." More to the point, she hates that she feels as though she were played.

Taking a deep breath, she exhales it very slowly. The alcohol is definitely taking its toll on her now and she's got to focus a great deal of energy into formulating what she wants to say next.

Which almost works. Because instead of coming out with the long-winded speech about how it's nice that he's not amused by the fragility of her wounded pride and feelings, she just stares right at him and says, "Why in the bloody hell did you have to be a vampire?"


Aidan can hear every word the little witchling utters. He can hear her heart pounding, and the deep, heavy offended breaths that are slowly working themselves into a slower rhythm as she calms herself. The glass of scotch is lifted to his lips, and a very slow, long drought is taken and swallowed before Aidan returns the glass to the table.

Over the course of his life, and most noticeably, his unlife, Aidan has played many roles and been many things. The role that he likes least is that of 'shoulder to cry on' because it is easier for him to empathize with the person responsible for causing the tears rather than the victim in the tears. He truly thinks that sorcerers played a good game; he can't imagine the reason why, but that's not really his concern. His only agreement was not to cross them, and with the shredded witch tossed to the side there is certainly no danger of that happening.

Yet, there is nothing but sincerity in his voice as he slides closer to frustrated red head. Lifting his hand, Aidan places it lightly on the back of her neck, slowly rubbing small circles with his thumb at the base of her neck. The touch is light, wary, lest she skitter away from him like a frightened animal. "Small consolation, but I don't think that anyone there noticed what was going on." Or cared for that matter.

The question causes his brows to lift. "I wasn't born this way, yeah?"


"Depending on your point of view, you could say I either fell in love with the perfect woman … or the wrong one."


Corrie tenses when he touches her, for the briefest of moments. Then she simply closes her eyes and falls silent. She could possibly have fallen asleep were it not for the fact that her breathing isn't completely even. She's no doubt that the sorcerers were playing some sort of game with her — just as she's positive that Rhys had no hand in it, because he is gentlemanly enough to have told her beforehand, or canceled the dinner. He'd hardly go out of his way to save her just to tear her down like that, so she's willing to wait it out to see what's going on. A chance to find out his side of things.

"I know," she says quietly. "S'just if you weren't what you are…" Beat. "Do you even remotely realize how hard it is to resist you?"

Her eyes snap open quickly and she covers her mouth as though she's just said the most awful of things. She gives it a beat. Then another.

"Yeah, I've not got a clue how that goes. I'd say sorry for your luck but we'd not be having this conversation if it didn't happen, I suppose."


Corrie's skin is warm and soft beneath his hand, and as he works the slow massage Aidan detects the gradual change in her breathing and heart rate. The sharp bitterness of rage seems to ebb, though it does still linger there just beneath the surface. Another shift brings him close enough to brush his shoulder and thigh against hers if he so desires, but Aidan does neither. He simply allows her to calm herself, to find her center, keeping the steady calming touch on her neck.

"No, I can't say that I do." The laughter is simmering and muffled, matching the subdued kindling in his voice that reflects clearly in the darkening blue of his irises. "Because you are doing a remarkable job." Aidan's smile is suave, touching his eyes as much as his voice does.

"It is what it is," Aidan gives a half-shrug. Almost four hundred years is far too long to fret and worry over it, and it isn't as though Catalina ever forced his hand. Ceasing the massage, his fingers feather across the base of her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. They pause briefly at the crook of her elbow, tracing a slow pattern there before withdrawing as he reaches again for his glass.


"Good," she murmurs. Corrie works hard to keep herself from succumbing to that which other women throw themselves at. Slowly, she runs her tongue over her lips and exhales a soft sigh when the massage ends.

"Celia says I should go for it, you know. No harm in a fling." Again, she realizes that her filter is perhaps gone and she clears her throat. "I mean, she's prob'ly not wrong." Beat. "You're hot."

Shifting her weight around a little, she shakes her head. "Sorry."


"I happen to think that Celia is a very smart woman. There is never any harm in a fling." Aidan takes a drink from the scotch, and then chuckles at the compliment. Now he leans toward her, arm sliding along the back of the booth behind her so that he can speak quietly in her ear. "Thank you, and you're quite the head turner yourself."

Abandoning his hold on the cool glass of scotch, Aidan sweeps his fingers over the back of Corrie's hand, up her lower arm and down again. He considers pointing out the obvious - that the witch is sotted - but decides against it for the moment. She's fun like this and he's dying - figuratively speaking - to see where this is going.


"Plenty of harm in a fling," Corrie points out slowly. She's definitely struggling for words, what with the alcohol in her system, and the distraction he's so easily providing. She lifts her glass to her lips, a very small sip taken before she sets it down again, blushing profusely.

"Especially with you."


"In what way?" The hand of the arm resting behind her drops to gently play at the ends of her hair. Another subtle shift and there's that decidedly teasing touch of their bodies, his arm against hers, the muscle of his thigh pressed to hers, but still with enough space that a simple shift from either of them will put distance between their bodies.

A tilt of his head, and Aidan gives her a smile that is a cross between encouraging and coy, "Why especially with me?" The hand on her arm gently turns her wrist over and fingertips play there.


There's no move to get away from him, for one she's safe enough — they're in public. For another she's honestly too sotted to care that he's touching her in an overly familiar way. For the moment, it's just nice to have that feeling of being desired — so long as it doesn't lead to her becoming dinner.

"You're a… you-know-what." Beat. "Plus, technically my boss." Beat. "Plus I really like the bad boys."


Aidan lifts her wrist to his lips and places a light, teasing kiss there. "To the first, that just means that I have years of experience."


"To the second -" Another kiss, this one placed directly over her pulse point. "You won't be the first person on the planet to have ever slept with the boss."


Aidan's face pulls into a charming frown for a few moments before he gives a dismissive half shrug. A grin replaces the frown as he shrugs it off, this time pressing a kiss to her open palm. "I'm failing to find a reason why the last one is an argument against."


"What if," Aidan leans in closer, his mouth nearly touching the shell of her ear, "I promise not to bite." They're not just words, no, they ripple instead with an undercurrent of sensuality and desire, silken sheets and unspoken decadent promises.


"Point," Corrie replies with a bit of a shiver. "Sto — "

There's another kiss, this one causing a slight lilting whimper in the back of her throat. "Okay, point…"

The kiss to her palm gets a blink. That's almost… sweet. There's something wrong with it being sweet that makes her shake her head to try and clear it. "I fall for the bad boys. Hardly conducive to a fling…" See, the last argument made sense, at least to her slightly addled mind.


She reaches for another shot, downing it really quickly. Swallowing and licking her lips she's barely able to whisper, "Up the ante."


"I'm a royal arse. Hardly conducive to falling for." This time his lips do brush her ear, but only just. The arm across the back of the booth drops down, his fingertips grazing her shoulder and dancing playfully over and under the edge of the material of the dress to butterfly against the bare skin before retreating.

Aidan's free hand temporarily ceases the dance on her arm, reaching out to push the shot tray out of reach because he's relatively certain that Corrie has had more than enough. When the fingers return, they crawl up her arm to trace her cheek and her lips.

"My cards are on the table, Corrie. S'not my turn to ante up."


"All the bad boys say that," Corrie points out. Yet she's had relationships with at least two of them. Not that she's looking for a relationship. She knows that'd never happen. She knows for a fact she'll kick herself in the morning when she recalls what happened.

Which is why, when she mock-bites at his fingers, she says, "No glamouring."

If she remembers what happened, she's not likely to repeat it.


It's like Christmas morning and that toy that he's been wanting all year is waiting beneath the Christmas tree.

Unfortunately, it's not only missing parts, but Santa forgot the batteries.

The witch is so very, very drunk. Normally that wouldn't matter to Aidan, but he just knows that if he beds her when she's this sotted, it's going to come back and bite him on the arse - if Corrie doesn't decide to fireball him because she's decided that he took advantage of her in an inebriated state. A little bit buzzed would be acceptable, but he's wondering if she can even stand or walk a straight line at the moment.

Aidan laughs at the bite at his fingers and leans in to press a teasing kiss to the corner of her mouth. Drawing back, he catches her gaze, "You are completely in your cups."


"No biting. No glamouring," Aidan agrees with a smile that manages to be both indulgent and risque. A single digit traces a line from her jaw to her neck and then along her bare shoulder as he leans in and kisses her, testing the waters as it were.


"Told you. You make me nervous," comes the reply in regards to her being in her cups. Corrie damned well needs to be to actually be talking so openly to him. When he agrees to her terms, she nods once. It's a slow nod, and when she lifts her head she meets the kiss with a great deal of previously held back passion.

Even so, she draws back before it becomes something more than a kiss to seal a deal with the devil.


As Corrie breaks off the kiss, Aidan's tongue darts out to lick his lips tasting her lingering there. Crystal blue eyes study the witch intently as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He gives a slight cant to his head, stroking her cheek lightly with his knuckles.

"As horribly cliche as it sounds, your place or mine?"


Corrie's eyes are still closed as he tucks the lock of hair behind her ear. She bites her lower lip, allowing herself just a moment of forgetting what he is. How much easier this would be if he were human. The thought swirls around in her head, before she slowly opens her eyes.

"Yours." That'll keep her own flat safe for the time being. Or should.


Aidan is paying very close attention to Corrie's reactions to him. He doesn't doubt for a minute that the source of her lack of resistance is the alcohol, and while he will take advantage of that, he will only allow that clouded judgement to carry him - and them - so far. It doesn't stop him from paying a teasing bits of attention to her to gauge her receptivity.

He doesn't have to go far to lean toward her, brushing his lips across the shell of her ear. His fingers continue to play up and down her arm, teasing the skin there with feathery light touches meant to sensitize and rouse. A fleeting, tempting kiss is dropped directly behind her ear, where the skin meets her neck.

"Dance with me?" It's a murmured invitation into her ear, a low whisper and purr suggestive of so much more than dancing. "And then we'll go…"

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