Re: Elevator
"You want me to meet your mom, Sam?" He licked the name off his lips, thought about its possible derivations. "Samantha." He tested it, looking at her, matching the name to the face. He was not typically partial to blondes; he thought them strangely washed out, like looking at a salt flat where there used to be an ocean. The distinctly Francophone look to her appealed to him a great deal, however. Daniel liked being places that he was not. "Samantha," he said, softer. And then he shook his head, putting off the decision for later on whether to use it.
"Daniel hasn't had enough to drink to even think about that excuse for dancing," he said, jerking his chin at the floor of writhing bodies that had absolutely no rhythm or skill. "If you want to screw with our clothes on while standing, that's different."