consider it disclaimed.

enjoy.

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first act

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The thought never crossed his mind that she would take him up on his offer, but here they were.

"So we are really going to do this then?" Merritt said mostly to himself, ignoring the amused glance Henley gave him. Shaking his head, he took one last swig from his lukewarm beer before placing it on the bedside take with a grimace. Moving from his seat on the corner of the bed, he stood in front of the younger redhead. The much younger redhead.

"I can't believe you're choosing now, of all times, to be shy." A sly grin graced her lips as she teased playfully. She took a long moment to stand, knowing fully well that his eyes were carefully following her movements, and used that fact to her advantage. A slight shake of her hair, a small tug to right her shirt, and a quick smoothing motion down the thighs to rid the nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt. Each movement was executed with intent.

She had been a magician's assistant and Henley was nothing less than prepared to draw the eye to exactly where she wanted it to be.

"So what? You don't want to be a corkscrew then?" As she spoke, Merritt took the opportunity to scrutinize her. The rigid way she held her shoulders, the way her teeth pulled at her bottom like, and ever so often her fingers would fidget nervously. Inwardly, he sighed.

"Now don't assume that and would you kindly stop trying to psych me out," he defended as he caught what she was trying to do. "I have absolutely no problem being a corkscrew, but you. You, seem to have a little problem with it."

"I do not!" Henley sighed exasperatedly. "This is from when we all first met, isn't it? If you think it has to do with Danny, then you can hang it up because you're wrong. Use you mentalist thing if you want."

Merritt gave the woman a hard stare, his lips quirking up slightly as he finally spoke, "Well you're not lying about that. Absolutely nothing to do with Atlas. Let's talk about the...ah...there it is, the casual sex bit then. Something you're not really comfortable with?"

"If I wasn't comfortable with it, why would I be here?" Henley protested, arms crossing. A light flush dusted her cheeks as her brow furrowed slightly, Merritt found reading her almost too easy.

"And now you're fighting with yourself to admit to it," he commented, feeling more at ease than before. For the moment, he had the upper hand.

"Okay, feel free to stop doing the mind thing, please."

"That wasn't the mind thing actually, but you can tell me the truth, Henley. We're friends...buds...amigos even! We've trusted each other this long. You won't be the first woman that decided they don't want to have sex with me."

"Friends don't have sex," she pointed out with a sigh. A hand ran through her hair in exasperation.

"Sure they do. Besides, you know it's going to be good, otherwise you would have never agreed to it. I mean, I'm older, handsome, and very experienced." Henley snorted, and he noted a bit of the tension leave her shoulders. "So let's take it slow. Have a few more drinks as friends and if it happens, then it happens. If it doesn't...well, your loss." Throwing in a wink, Merritt was happy to see the easy smile back on the painted lips of his companion.

"Fine, but just a few. I do not want a repeat performance of my last hangover."

Merritt chuckled as he moved through the small apartment towards the kitchen, Vegas had been a good time before their First Act. Waking up with hangovers after almost every show seemed to do the worst number on Henley though.

"Fine, but take off those damn shoes first. You're here to relax, not to grind on a pole," Merritt called over his shoulder as he pulled two more beers from the refrigerator and decided that the harder stuff could wait. Smirking to himself, he also decided that tonight was not a good night to be making double entendres.

"Well, I thought that's exactly what I was here for." Henley had followed him from the bedroom, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor. She stopped to lean against the side of the archway, holding her hand out for one of the beers. Merritt handed her the chilled glass bottle without a second thought, watching as she popped the metal cap off with ease.

"Jokes are good. We are just two friends having a beer," Merritt grinned, popping open his own bottle and clinking it against hers in a silent cheers. Both took a long nip of the ice cold beverages.

"Two friends with the intentions of having sex after drinks," Henley called over her shoulder as she turned walking away, chuckling to herself the entire way to the couch.

"Oh, come now, Miss Reeves. Let's keep our minds out of the gutter," he chided jokingly, following her lead into the living room.

"Quite right, Mr. McKinney. Our bodies are much better suited for that kind of task, wouldn't you agree?" she teased right back. Though her discomfort for the situation was clear, Merritt nearly choked in surprise at her response. It took him a few minutes of rough coughing to rid himself of the near drowned feeling.

"You really don't have to do that, you know," he croaked, throat sore from the sudden coughing fit.

"Do what?" Henley shot him a curious glance, stilling her movements to wait for his reply. The polished edge of her bottle rested lightly on her bottom lip.

"Make jokes like that. It just makes you even more uncomfortable than you already are. I get that you're trying to defuse this tension that isn't really there, but it's only making you more nervous. You're still young, kid. so it's perfectly reasonable for you to be uncomfortable." Merritt paused to make sure the point had gotten across before he added in a lighter tone, "Besides being comfortable with sex comes when you're old, unattractive, and don't give a damn. Kind of like me."

"Oh come on, Merritt. You aren't old," Henley protested despite the deep scarlet hue her skin had taken on. She took another long drag from her bottle before sitting it down on the coffee table in front of her.

"Miss Reeves, you and I both know that I am old enough to be your father." Henley gave her companion a skeptical look. "Okay, fine. Your much older uncle," he amended, chuckling to himself.

"Alright, I'll take it," she laughed as well. Looking away deliberately, Henley took a deep breath to calm herself as she rearranged her sitting position. Placing her feet upon the couch and folding her legs against her chest, she locked her arms around her ankles. Finally, she placed her chin upon her knees, so she was facing the chair Merritt currently occupied.

"So bad idea then?" he filled in the silence for her and the red head heaved a sigh. Almost immediately, she lifted her head back up to protest once more, but was cut off as Merritt spoke again. "Well thank God for little favors then. Can't say that I'm really in the mood anyways. Do you want to know what I am in the mood for though?"

Henley didn't answer this time; thoroughly embarrassed, she watched as he leaned forward looking for something among the newspapers and books that littered the coffee table. With a quiet exclamation of 'Ah-ha!', he lifted an extremely worn looking deck of cards from its place under the business section. With a sly smile, he gestured towards the cards in his hand.

"I'm not nearly as crafty with these as Jack or Danny-boy, but how about a game?"

"You know, as long as the game doesn't involve throwing them at a wall and hoping they stick, I think you'll be just fine." Her lip quirked up slightly as she pointed out thoughtfully.

"Good point. So what's your poison, Miss Reeves?" he asked, fanning out the cards with ease.

"Bullshit," she replied with a grin, past embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind.

"I have to say, it's a lot more fun to say when someone begins performing Violin Concerto," he comments as he begins shuffling the deck. Henley can't help but to laugh and agree at the thought.

I didn't realize that FFN already had an archive for NYSM and it makes me so happy. I personally prefer FFN to Ao3, and since I've already put the progress thus far onto Ao3 I figured I can go ahead an post it here as well.