Characters: Bette and Ken NPCs: none Timeline: 11am, Thursday, December 15, 1978 (backdated) Location: Bette’s apartment Description: Ken comes to pick Bette up for a day out. There is chatting and teasing. Just a glimpse at Bette and Ken’s friendship to date. Rating: PG-13
Bette was running a little late, as usual, and she was sitting on the shelf of her vanity, propped up on one hand as she looked into the mirror and did her eyeliner with her other hand. From that position, she could reach the radiator with her feet. She had to stretch a little awkwardly, but at least it allowed her to warm her cold toes a little as she finished up her makeup and began finishing up her hair. Her hair was getting so long now. She’d kept it around shoulder length while modelling for diversity purposes, but she hadn’t cut it in months. It was the longest it had been in many years, that much she was certain of.
The knock at the door wasn’t surprising. She was expecting Ken to show up, and so she called out that it was open so he knew he could come in and wrapped another lock of hair around her curling iron. She was already dressed, and she only had a few more curls to do.
“I’m almost done, I swear. Make yourself comfortable,” she called, assuming he’d let himself in. Her apartment was a large studio apartment, but she’d hung curtains in luxurious materials to separate the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, and her vanity was right between the window and the bed, so she couldn’t see the door from where she was perched, though she could see the couch. She usually kept the curtain pulled back a little.
Ken was used the haphazard treatment she gave him, giving himself the luxury of sighing a little as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His babysitting duties had been keeping him busy for a few months now, on orders from Sebastian to keep an eye on the girl to attain a good feel for her intentions and abilities. It was easy enough to convince her to accept the company, considering her situation. Fear of being found went hand in hand with the paranoia of being somewhere unfamiliar and alone. Playing chauffeur and shadow were part of his job description anyway. At first it was fairly run-of-the-mill, and despite the woman's talents she seemed more likely to break a finger nail than plan against the Hellfire Club. The thought brought the corner of his mouth up in a near-invisible smirk as he got himself comfortable by the door.
At any rate, after determining she posed little threat to Sebastian, which had taken some dedicated effort on his part due to her potentially worrisome powers, he'd actually grown to mind his chores a bit less as time went on. Introducing her to various parts of the city, as it turned out, was a little entertaining for a number of reasons including the fact that the company really wasn't that terrible. Still, no matter how much he enjoyed the change of scenery, returning to the club always brought him back to his old, familiar state of mind. After all, he had a real job.
"Take your time," he called in return after a moment, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited, soaking in the room a bit. At first it had been purely professional, scanning over certain items, attaining a better idea of who his target was, but now it was all so familiar that he could note when certain things were out of- hey, where did the mantle clock go?
Two more curls and a quick slicking on of lipstick and Bette was ready to go. She stepped into some attractive, stylish brown pumps, grabbing her large leather purse from where she’d dropped it on her bed. She stepped around the curtain, smiling brightly at Ken as he came into view. He was wearing a suit, as usual, and though her somewhat victorian style apartment made him stand out, he didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable in it as he used to. He was looking around and waiting patiently and didn’t seem frustrated with her for not being ready. When they’d first begun spending time together, she knew it probably had more to do with Sebastian Shaw keeping tabs on her than it did with him fulfilling her request for an occasional body guard. It had been purely business. But now, it was starting to feel more casual, and she was starting to notice a few differences here and there between how Ken was with her when they were out together and how he was in a professional environment back at the Hellfire Club.
She liked him better when it was just the two of them.
“So I was thinking we could go to Saks. I kind of want a little retail therapy,” Bette said breezily, which was her way of letting him know she wasn’t shopping for anything in particular. Fair warning, she figured. Shopping just to shop could be frustrating for some people, but Bette loved it. It was fun to act like her biggest concerns were which handbag and shoes best complemented the adorable dress she’d just purchased. Maybe it was shallow, but it made her feel normal. She would try not to make it unbearable for him.
Setting down her purse at his feet for a moment, she pulled on her new trench coat and reached for a scarf from her coat rack, fingering two and turning to face Ken. “Which do you like better, the midnight blue or the gold?”
Ken wasn't a fan of shopping, though not so much for the act in itself. Nearly every time they stepped into a store it was generally assumed that he was either a husband, a boyfriend, or a sugar daddy. Leaving his sunglasses on indoors, making sure his clothing was suitable, and remaining back from the action a little took off some of the discomfort. People were more likely to mistake him for hired help of some sort that way. It was at least better than attempting to explain to perfect strangers without sounding completely lewd that he wasn't any of the above. At least she'd stopped teasing him so much about it. And hell, all in all at least it gave him something pretty to look at.
At her question he glanced down, his eyes drifting from one scarf to the other, then back up to her, one brow raised slightly over the other. "Hm, yes, nature's call to the fashion sense I don't possess." He folded his arms over his chest and appeared to be considering it before he replied again, "Blue is closest to black, and apparently black goes with everything. The color wheel isn't my forte."
To emphasize, he thumbed at the lapel of his long leather overcoat, which was black, and currently matched his slacks and shoes. Monochrome was just... safe. He occasionally delved into browns and dark blues, but really, with no taste in hues he didn't really want to come across a time where the person he was supposed to be interrogating laughed at his lack of color coordination. Style was easy in comparison considering how versatile a good looking black suit was in all of the occupations he'd had, but hues? Seasons? Clashing? Might as well have been speaking Esperanto for all he understood it.
Bette laughed and wrapped the beautifully embroidered navy scarf around her neck, flicking a hand through her artfully styled messy curls and smiled brightly up at Ken. She got a bit of a naughty look in her eye as she reached out and brushed a hand over his lapel.
“Maybe we should do some shopping for you today, too. Do you own anything casual, or do you just have eight of these?” she asked, tugging gently on the collar of his suit, letting her hand linger on his chest as she let her eyes linger on his clothing before meeting his again. She was comfortable enough with him now that she wasn’t all that bothered by his seriousness. In fact, she could now appreciate his wry sense of humour and his sarcasm. Her flirting was old news by now, she was sure, and she didn’t think he’d have much of a reaction at all to the hand she only now dropped from where she’d rested it against his chest to move it instead to the door handle. “Shall we?”
"Twelve," he corrected lightly. "For work purposes. There's an age old Japanese saying akin to avoiding embarrassment by not wearing the same kimono in public too often and I'd hate to have it reflect poorly on Sebastian. And I'm more than capable of 'casual'. Look, I'm not even wearing a tie today." He sounded slightly proud of himself in a playful way, the corners of his lips curving slightly upwards. His dark eyes stayed on her face as she played with his suit, waiting for her to tire with it.
When she moved back again, he straightened his coat over his suit jacket, preparing for that step back out into the cold. As per his job description, he would have opened the door for her, as he'd been planning, but it was her apartment. "After you."
“Ooh, twelve,” Bette giggled. There was something about the way he could hold her gaze while she flirted with him that just made it all the more intense. Most men looked at her chest or her lips or her body, but no one just looked at her eyes. No one except Ken, anyway. It was a nice change.
She waited for him to step out after her, then shut the door and locked it behind him. She got that he was gallant, and she didn’t mind letting him do things for her. He was the old fashioned sort, after all, and it made her feel kind of well looked after to let him open her doors and pull out her chairs and walk on the outside of the sidewalk. Besides, it was kind of adorable, so most times she just let him. Anyway, it got her out of carrying her own shopping bags. She had a feeling he only did that so he didn’t seem as much like he was there with her as he worked for her, but she did everything in her power to make it seem like the former. She really enjoyed torturing him.
“Is there anything you want to do today, Ken?” she asked as she headed for the elevator, pulling some brown leather gloves from her purse. It was chilly out, and she liked to be warm, and simultaneously stylish. The gloves were beautiful, and also Italian and almost two hundred dollars.
"Survive," he replied pointedly, sliding his sunglasses in place once they were standing in front of the elevator, though turned to offer her a quick, though somewhat half-assed smile. "A stop by the cafe might be called for at some point later. Aside from that my day is in your capable hands." That was one way of putting it, at least.
As she slipped her gloves on, Ken reached for the elevator button, taking a step back just in case anyone was departing. It always seemed as if no matter when in the day it was or how much time had passed, it was always waiting on the top floor. When the customary 'ding' came and the doors opened, he stepped in first, positioning himself in front of the floor buttons and waited for her to get situated. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for at Saks?"
“A new bathing suit,” Bette answered immediately, watching him for a reaction as she stretched and trailed her hand down over her side. “I don’t need one for any particular reason, but I’ve just realized I don’t have one. It seems like the sort of thing a girl should always have, just in case. I wouldn’t want to have to go skinny dipping.”
She smirked as she spoke and angled a look at Ken, stepping into the elevator as soon as the doors slid open to reveal it empty. She had to tease to take the focus off of his somewhat depressing response of ‘survive’. It was such a Ken thing to say, and while she appreciated his devotion to his job, sometimes she just preferred to forget about it. He was there to protect her, so she didn’t have to worry. Not that she ever stopped worrying. It felt sometimes that the constant stress was eating away at her inside. Perhaps the certainly existent ulcer, however, helped her in keeping her girlish figure.
“Lack of fashion sense aside, I’m going to need your assistance choosing one,” Bette continued. “Are you up to the challenge? I’m an incredibly attractive person, after all, and you’ll have to judge my attractiveness by such small degrees of variation... it’ll take incredible attention to detail, Ken. I take bathing suits very seriously.”
There was no real reaction to her statement other than to push the down button on the wall, then he simply took a step back. "Seems a little out of season to be worrying about that so much. You might be better off trying when the weather improves." He couldn't imagine there was much of a selection of swimwear anywhere in the middle of winter, really, but what did he know. Maybe swim suits were in fashion or something.
"Then I'll do my very best." He promised as sincerely as possible, turning briefly to her before looking slightly thoughtful. "Now, are we judging on my personal tastes, or what's in fashion?"
His own personal tastes, right. The only time he saw bathing suits nowadays were in catalogues. He wondered just how long he could really look bored sitting there watching her parade around in them though. Considering it was Bette, he was certain that was probably her mischievous little question as well.
“Well your own personal tastes, of course. I already know fashion, I’d just like input as far as appeal goes. But perhaps you’re right about out of season,” Bette said contemplatively, pursing her lips for a moment as she pretended to think. “Do you think I would get more use out of some new lingerie? We could shop for that instead.”
She was really pushing it now, she knew, but she still had the opportunity to laugh it off if she needed to. Which she was sure she would. It was how they did things. She flirted until she thought it was going too far and then pulled back just in time, just before the line was crossed. Bette didn’t want anything in particular to come of it beyond it providing a means of distraction from the darkness that had followed her life around for years. Modelling had provided that for a long time, and now all she had was the Hellfire Club, the tasks Sebastian Shaw set her, and Ken.
Ken was her favourite distraction, and she watched him now, not quite realizing the naughty edge of amusement had faded slightly from her face, leaving gratitude of a sort, and perhaps some fondness there. As much as she hadn’t been planning on investing herself in anyone or anything within the Hellfire Club, Ken was quickly becoming the only person she might call a friend instead of an associate. It was both dangerous, she knew, and also desperately satisfying.
Bette was so viciously lonely, and she hoped deeply that Ken didn’t realize quite how much. If he knew how she looked forward to their time spent alone together, the only time she could even remotely relax, she worried he might shy away from her. Bette knew she could be a little... intense. She always had been, perhaps because of her isolated childhood, but she worked hard to conceal it.
Yep, he should have thought that's where things would lead to once the bathing suit idea was nullified. With an actual lingerie store there was little he could do to explain his presence and imagined that no matter what he said in that kind of situation it wouldn't matter one way or another. Why did he have to say anything at all? Thank god Shaw wasn't there. The last thing he needed was his boss laughing at him. In the end Sebastian would probably only make sure events like this happened more often just to get a giggle.
He knew he was being watched, and made a show of looking at least slightly affected by the idea, releasing a slight sigh to appease her teasing nature. It was the least he could do, honestly, without giving away too much. With how much they interacted he found that staying serious was growing marginally more difficult each time. At least he had his pride. "Well, I suppose we'd have to consider just what kind of audience you're going to be showing off for." There was a pause before he glanced back at her, looking a little playful. "Shall I call the club for a consensus?"
“No, no, your opinion is enough for me, baby,” Bette said, laughing aloud then as the doors opened and she winked at him and then breezed out into the lobby, being sure not to go too fast so he could catch up and grab the door for her.
She tossed her hair as she looked back over her shoulder to take a peek at him. She was still learning to read him, but she approved of his more playful side. It was evident he was becoming more comfortable around her as he grew more casual, but she wasn’t quite sure how he’d handle lingerie shopping, if she did decide to take him after all. She’d started the joke, but she wasn’t sure how well it would go over in practicality.
"Well, that's a relief," he mused lightly, his eyes grazing up to the glowing numbers atop the closed elevator doors. Chances were, even if he had contacted Sebastian, he ninety-percent sure that the reply would have been something along the lines of 'naked'.
Luckily Ken had long legs, so following her wasn't much of an issue. It took even less effort to get ahead of her by the time they got to the door, opening it and waiting for her to pass through. He looked slightly smug, though contemplated just how he was going to get to the car parked out in front before her. There was always teleporting but he never made a show of using his abilities unless he needed to, or if it was requested by Sebastian.
Lucky for Ken and his chivalry, Bette squinted into the cold winter sunshine and paused, wrinkling her nose in discomfort, to go through her bag and find her large, wide rimmed Versace sunglasses. Just because it was winter didn't mean it wasn't bright out, though Bette certainly associated sunglasses far more with summer just as, she was sure, everyone else did. That didn't mean she wasn't stylishly prepared.
"Coffee first, or coffee at Saks?" she asked him as she approached the car, letting him open the door for her before taking his hand and climbing in, lookign up at him with one long leg still extended out the door towards him. She waggled her eyebrows at him and spoke as though confiding a secret in him, "And you know, you can request activities too, Ken. I'm open to suggestions."
Ken's eyes went to her leg momentarily before sliding up to her face, letting her hand rest in his open one until she got situated. The question made him sigh again, though not in a particularly negative way. "Sadly, the zoo is largely closed this time of the year, so I'm perfectly fine with the cafe being my contribution this afternoon."
His gaze moved to her leg again, then to her face, this time to relay a question of her readiness to continue on, his hand prepared to close the door whenever she was finished. "Coffee first would be appreciated. I have a feeling you plan on squeezing every bit of me as far as you can today. Per usual."
"Oh," Bette said, barely holding back a laugh as she used her very sultriest voice, "I will squeeze you."
She pulled her leg into the spacious back seat of the car, crossing her legs primly and watching him as he shut the door. She felt oddly giddy, and she was suddenly very glad she'd come here. She told herself it was because she'd surrounded herself by powerful people who could keep her alive and out of jail, if it came to that. The Hellfire Club was not to be taken lightly, but all of the risks she was taking associating herself with the club were worth it, she thought. She also couldn't deny that she was enjoying every single minute she spent with Ken. It was nice to know he could take care of her in any situation she couldn't take care of herself. She hadn't allowed herself to connect with anyone in... well, ever it seemed like at times. But with him, she hadn't really thought about it. She just knew then that she kind of had. If she were honest, there was nothing particularly trustworthy or exceptional about him. He was sarcastic and funny and he had a sort of honour to him, but he wasn't some perfect man who she had a cosmic connection. She thought probably it was out of desperation and opportunity, really, but whatever the reason, it worked.
"Hey, driver, take me to your favourite coffee shop, pronto," she teased.
Her statement, of course, barely got an outward reaction from him, though at least part of his mind went straight into the gutter. Even as trained in composure as he was, it was getting more and more difficult for Ken not to play along more often. The last thing he needed was to falter when Sebastian was around, knowing he'd never hear the end of it.
He waited for her to slide in fully before closing the door behind her, taking the opportunity to shake his head a little as he made his way to the front of the car, pulling the driver's side door open for himself. At her request, he glanced at her in the rear view mirror over the rims of his sunglasses while starting the car. "Yes, Ma'am." With that, he pulled away from the curb, doing his best not to think about what the day had in store for him.