(5pm - Silas/Tavish)
Tavish spent his morning nursing his hang over. He hated to admit it (or did he?) but the fact that Silas had left at 10 in the morning and he finally had his flat back to himself was fantastic. Of course he didn't do much but lay around on his sofa, flipping through the journal, but he didn't have to worry about anyone else or having to get along.
Unfortunately, the evening came far too quickly and despite the fact that it was a bloody Saturday and that people should have been at the club, half of their target audience was going to be at this meeting and he'd have to drag his own arse too. Because, you know, working on Saturday wasn't important for a club owner.
Throughout everything he had tried to keep an upbeat attitude though and at least Roger would be there. He got himself up (feeling much better, amazing what a little drinking and lieing about could do for you) and dressed smartly. If there was one thing that Tavish loved it was his wardrobe so he spared no corners getting ready for the evening. He was dressed to kill.
What he didn't expect, however, was to see Silas dressed to kill as well. She had done well enough for the club, he figured. She hadn't seemed like she really had all that many opinions on what she was wearing, dressing fashionably but with... limited resources, he supposed, but the woman standing in front of him almost had his jaw on the floor. It was impossible to miss her in the crowd from her shocking hair to the bold dress, and bright accessories. Licking his lower lip Tavish gave a little grin. Damn she cleaned up nice.
"Silas," he greeted as he walked up to her, kissing her hand (mostly for show) and not hiding the way he looked at her. "Your dress is..." he didn't even have words.