fucking demelza robins, bitches! (foralover) wrote in lifeor, @ 2008-11-10 08:44:00 |
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Life continued for Moss as it usually did that day, getting up, going to work, and heading to the Silver Tongue afterwards. He had plans to meet a couple of friends later but in the meantime, he had to wait for Demelza to show so he could give back her bra. It seemed as if their encounter created problems in her life, which never was a good sign. He had the privilege of meeting a member of The Banshees and having her angry at him didn't sit well with him. Maybe now he was able to make amends with her and see her yet again. Trying never hurt and if it wasn't meant to be, then he just had to deal with it. He ordered a pint of lager and received it a minute later, taking sips of it as he scoured the club for any sign of her. Just waiting around was boring and so he got up from the stool to the dance floor, drinking every so often as he danced a little to the beat. It was all about having a good time, and he zoned in on a pretty lady, dancing towards her and wiggling his hips in the hope to make her laugh. She cracked a smile and that was good enough for him; he blew her a kiss and continued to dance, downing a quarter of the drink in his glass. Oh yeah, he still had it. More of his drink was soon gone and his confidence rose. Dem was late on purpose. For one thing, she wanted to look good, as much as she didn't want to see him at all. If she had to see him, she would be sober and gorgeous, so she found a plain, medium gray heather off-the-shoulder sweater with offset buttons and coupled it with her tightest dark skinny jeans. It made her look sexy and feminine and it helped her pretend she had curves, pretend she didn't have the Robins women curse. Also, she didn't want to be on time, to be at his beck and call. And she wanted to catch him off guard maybe dancing or flirting. It would help cement her bad opinion of him, the opinion she wanted to have, but as she walked in he was in the middle of getting another drink and not dancing. She'd caught him at nothing. purse swung over her shoulder - a big one she'd nicked from Cordy to fit her journal in case she needed to contact someone and to easily hide her bra once he'd given it to her. She sat at a barstool and the bartender instantly set her favorite drink in front of her, the Green Eyes. She laughed and he told her it was on the house, in celebration of another song hitting the charts the week before. Her cheeks colored prettily just as Moss noticed her. Excellent, another pint. He took a sip and raised his eyes as he did so, catching sight of her. There she was! His drink set down slowly, Moss gave her an acknowledging nod. "Hello there," he said and slid his hand into his left pocket where it was. "How're you doing? Planning to have a good night out?" Why else would she be drinking? Of course, she had other mates to join her in drinking fun. Normally he might have dragged things out by delaying the return of her bra even longer, but he felt guilty. He dug into his pocket and withdrew the orange plastic carrier bag that contained her purple bra; he knew how to be discreet, especially if he was in a public place like this. "Here you go." His statement was casual and brief - it was obvious that was how she wanted things and that was fair enough. "I hope you stay here for a little while longer. You have to see the crazy magical light display in an hour. It's something to see." He smirked. "And then there's the dance music. Wild." She grabbed the bag and shoved it in the purse, trying to get rid of the lingering blush in her cheeks. She wanted the upper hand with her outfit, her sobriety, even her hair was a tamed color with sophisticated makeup. And now she was blushing and embarrassed right as he walked up, putting her totally out of her element. "Actually, I wasn't planning on staying at all, but the drink is free, so I'll take it." She sipped it and turned to him. "Look, Moss, I don't-" She stopped. "I need to ask-" More drink was sipped - gulped - before she finally spit it out. "How can I trust you that I wanted it?" Slight disappointment arose as she told him that she intended to leave had the drink not been free. He understood the temptation of the free drink - oh, how nice it was! Then she asked him something about her wanting it and he cringed inwardly. Did she now have the impression that he forced her into having sex with him? Oh boy. Moss had some form of this situation before and it easily veered off into dangerous territory. He had to squelch the idea and he had to do it now. "Look, I may not be exactly in my right mind all the time when I have sex, but I am no date rapist," he answered in a somewhat quiet tone. "You approached me first too. If you made it very clear that you didn't want it, then I'm pretty sure I would have remembered," Moss continued. "But if it makes you feel better to leave and forget about me, then do it." It was difficult for any man to forget a refusal of intimacy, he was sure. He'd laid everything on the table for her and that was that. He took his drink and had another couple of sips, gaze flickering out to the crowd on the dance floor before returning to her. Of course, he hoped that most people remembered him in a positive way although it was difficult for him to be certain. She had approached him first, that much she knew at least because of her journal comment to Jazz right beforehand. She sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry. It was my sister getting me all worked up. And me holding out hope that I didn't throw myself at a man even though I always knew I had." She lifted her right leg and tucked it beneath her on the barstool, now sitting half cross-legged. "Can I..." Well, he had a drink already. "Do you wanna dance?" she finally asked. He sounded rather upset by the question - with good reason, she acknowledged - and she wanted him to feel better. "One song?" He listened to her explanation and supposed it made sense considering what had happened the other night. Conflicted emotions were powerful and if they persuaded her to drink and accept a piece of hard 'candy' from him, then it was no wonder she did what she did. "I see," said Moss. There seemed to be little he could say that would help her in that regard, but he offered her a sympathetic look. He waited to hear her question and his mood lifted. One dance he could definitely do and Moss got to his feet, extending his hand out to her before they headed to the dance floor. A moderately fast song played and Moss started to dance conservatively - with the company he had, it was only wise. A smile appeared on his face, shining at her. Despite all the awkwardness that went on between them, it was good to relax like this. He enjoyed dancing, which was unusual for a guy, he knew, and he wanted to share his joy of moving with her. Smiles always worked wonders and something told him things were looking up for now. Demelza started off rather conservative in her style, too, but the truth was, she loved dancing far too much to hold back and soon she was pressed against him, dancing quickly and seductively as she always did, even with her girls. Actually, she was the worst when with the Banshees, especially Bee, who she had kissed on a number of occasions just to get the men riled up. It was three songs later before Dem realized how long she'd let herself dance with this man she was trying so hard to hate. He just kept making it harder and harder. Blushing bright red, she excused herself and ordered another drink. She sat at the bar, cheeks still aflame, trying to calm her embarrassment. Merlin, that drink was taking a while to arrive. Nothing wrong with letting loose with dancing. Especially not seductive dancing. He enjoyed this sudden change of style and so his smile remained as they continued. Time passed as much as it did for her (though he mostly ignored that the songs changed at all and pretended that it was all one long song). He nodded as she left, still dancing as he caught the glance of the woman across from him. When he was with one woman, flirting with another in the vicinity was normally not good practice unless they were with someone. Given that she would probably jump to the conclusion that he was a shameless manwhore, Moss was all about the innocent moves. He shot her a brief smile and focused on his own moves, hoping that he was entertaining for the moment. He enjoyed disco moves, or rather turning ordinary household activities into movements on the dance floor, and amused himself by 'washing the dishes' and 'showering.' Singing with a foam hairdo was not beyond the realm of his interests, and he mimed doing such to the people around him. He got a few glances with one hiding their amusement and his smile easily turned into a grin. Oh yeah, he was awesome. Dem shook her head and turned away from him entirely, holding back any laughter until her face was turned away from him. Once it was, though, she couldn't help but laugh into her fruity drink, which had finally arrived. She almost felt embarrassed to have been the last person dancing with him, but also she felt a little...happy? Happy that he wasn't moving on to another dance partner, and happy that he didn't really care what others were thinking of him right now. Still, she could not look at him without bursting out in laughter. The light chuckles rolling out as she drank were bad enough. Moss swiveled around and managed to catch her gaze, miming putting on his trousers as a dance move for her. His actions were exaggerated and had a surprised look on his face as he 'did his belt,' just to be silly. She seemed to be laughing at him, a good sign, he was sure of it. He changed from 'getting dressed' to holding his nose and lifting an arm above his head as he 'went underwater.' Just another fun addition to his stellar dance routine. Would she return to the floor or make her escape? "One more dance?" he mouthed, hoping she could read lips. She was a woman of many talents, so who knew? It was possible. Dem caught him mouthing to her and laughed. She held up her drink and then mouthed, "I'll need more than this," slowly for him to understand. And then she drained it. Truth was, she wanted to go dance with him, but she still felt as though she wanted to hate him. For one thing, she didn't date. She was the opposite of Cordy, the opposite of her mum. No dating at all, no sex at all, meant she couldn't get hurt, and the fact that she was attracted even in the slightest to the crazy blond man scared the shit out of her. The bartender asked if she'd like another Green Eyes. More drink? Yes, please. While she had more liquid persuasion, he realized he had an inflatable banana in his pocket and that was a fantastic set-up for a joke if he could think of one. Oh well, when he did, he was sure to say it. Moss reached into the left-hand pocket of his trousers to withdraw the folded inflatable toy and showed it to the man dancing near him. "Do you think I can get someone to blow my banana?" he asked jokingly. The other man laughed and said he didn't know, so Moss uncapped the small tube for the air to get in and started to blow into it. His lung capacity was fairly decent and he managed to inflate it in the span of a minute. "Banana bop!" he called out - hopefully someone heard him over the music - and bopped the banana balloon-like object into the crowd. It started to make its journey through the club and he wished it well. Oh, they grew up so quickly. Dem drained her drink quickly, vaguely having a sense of "I should slow down" run through her brain, but she shook it off. The drink was tasty. And really? An inflatable banana? She shook her head and slid off the stool, coming up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, beginning to move with the music and grinning up at him with amusement. "You have the maturity of a three-year-old, Mister Moss," she told him in a sweet tone. Moss grinned as she returned and rested a gentle hand on her hip as he danced to the music. Maturity in men was key for most women, but he had no intention of changing his ways just from a little comment like that. He was not going to lie about who he was to get some sweetness. "You see," he told her, "maturity is for sad, anal fucks. Their default mood is 'wet blanket,' and that's fine for them. Me, I enjoy my inflatable banana. It's sexy." Right on cue, the large yellow thing drifted through the air near him and he caught it with his right hand, bopping her head playfully with it. It was possible for her to take it and use it as a weapon of sorts. She did take it, hitting him right on the head even harder than he had hit her, but not maliciously, before tossing it into the crowd of dancers again. "Good," she told him. "Because I'm not usually very mature either. At least according to my sister, manager, and contemporaries." And she grinned as she began to dance again. He blinked when she hit him on the head quite hard. It left before he managed to get it back although all things considered, it wasn't that important. With a grin, he danced enthusiastically with her. "I'm in good company." Looked like she started to change her tune about him so there might be a chance of Moss sneaking his arms around her waist. They only remained there a moment before he slipped out of her grasp and twirled once with a smile. Immaturity was an art form with him. The arms around her waist was too much, even if it was brief. She laughed at his twirl, but retreated to the bar, where the barman handed her her bad and refused to let her pay for any of her drinks, insisting that they were all on the house for her recent success. Demelza then returned to Moss, giving him a light peck on the cheek in farewell. "I'd really better leave now. But you're not a bad bloke." And she turned and left, throwing him a last glance over her shoulder before sauntering into the Floo, mind reeling. |