Bill + Fleur Fleur, who loved a good party, had been terribly excited for this event. Food and wine and fancy clothes? What's not to love? It was a shame, though, that it was in response to such an awful thing. It wasn't as though the cause was particularly close to her heart - though the ghosts of borrowed memories told her it should be - but she nevertheless felt compelled to lend her support.
It was a lovely bonus, too, that she had a handsome man to attend with. A man she loved spending time with, no matter the setting. She was certainly aware that those borrowed memories likely had a lot to do with how comfortable she felt around Bill and how much she craved his company, but she found no real problem with that.
The trouble was, at this very moment, he had vanished. She had returned from the bar, champagne flutes in each hand, to find him absent from where she'd left him. She frowned slightly and turned in place, scanning the crowd for red hair.