I missed the Valentines day thing! Ugh. I need to check my messages more often.
I was inspired by the talented writers that contributed anyhow, and I decided I would write two fics that are in the same vein! Apologies to anyone waiting on my other fics, I will eventually update.
Anyway, please enjoy;
The Farraday was the kind of club you didn't get into without an express invitation. It was the kind of place you knew you could never belong, because you couldn't afford the dress code. It oozed upper-class beauty, decadence, and legal ambiguity - the kind of place that would have been shut down, if there was anybody left in the city that hadn't been paid off.
Its entrance was inconspicuous, hidden away in the shadow of an alley way that no morally upstanding citizen would be caught dead in. Two men stood at the door – big, threatening, and dressed all in black, but still only human. Despite its overwhelming appeal to the Moroi world, this club was owned, operated, and predominantly visited by humans.
It was the last place on earth Dimitri had expected to find himself the night of February the fourteenth – surrounded by drugged up humans, insinuating himself into a bachelor party just to get through the door. Yet here he was, lounging in the VIP section and accepting shots he had no intention of drinking, at least after the first two. He was watching the raised platform at the end of the room. It was the main entrance, and at any moment he knew Rose Hathaway would be walking through it.
He knew she wouldn't be relying on anyone else to get her into one of the most exclusive clubs in the country. She wouldn't need and invitation, because anybody that saw her coming would know a woman that beautiful could only be good for business.
Dimitri spared a glance around the club, his astute gaze sweeping over the multi-leveled floor and the huge chandeliers that hung from the gilded ceiling, draped in fine white chiffon that fluttered in a false breeze. A live band, sweaty and half dressed, performed a loud, high energy song on stage for the crowd against a backdrop of heavy velvet curtains. He took in the people – dressed in designer suits and gowns, their faces obscured by elaborate masks as they partook in illicit activities. He scanned again for possible exits, noting the emergency exit that was across the dance floor.
If he was being honest, he was a little nervous. This was one of the more reckless plans he'd ever agreed to participate in. It had been hastily thrown together only a few hours ago, and so far he'd been counting his lucky stars that it had all gone off without a hitch.
He tried to reassure himself that nothing was going to go wrong – after all, getting into the club in the first place was the hardest part of this scheme. Once Rose was in, it was all smooth sailing. And he had no doubt that Rose would find a way in. His eyes drifted back to the platform, standing ten feet above the sweaty, crushing throng of humans.
And there she was. Even from a distance, and with her face half covered, he knew it was her. He watched her take in the scene, frowning as the lights of the stage flashed obnoxiously over the heads of the crowd. Dimitri held a breath as he took in her appearance. Partner or not, he was still a man, and his heart stuttered as his gaze slipped over her body. She was dressed in Lissa's most revealing designer gown, made only the more scandalous because it was two sizes too small. The already immodest neckline was bordering on obscene on her full figure, and the short hemline made the red dress all the more risqué.
He smiled, watching her duck her head and make her way down to the dance floor. She didn't look like she was going to enjoy herself tonight, and the nature of the masquerade would make their hunt more difficult than usual. He wouldn't be surprised if they were here for hours – he wouldn't even be surprised if they left without a kill.
Rose battled her way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a drink, having no trouble getting the attention of a bartender despite the throng of people vying for his services. Still smiling, Dimitri turned his attention momentarily to the human that was offering him a drink and politely accepted.
Discreetly, he tipped his drink over his shoulder, and laughed at a lewd joke the best man had been hiccoughing over for the last two minutes. He'd been watching them drink and swallow small pink pills all night, and he was sure they weren't reading into his noncommittal mutterings and forced amusement. Adjusting his plain black half mask, he allowed himself one last lingering glance at Rose, leaning against the bar, before refocusing his attention on the crowd.
He had a good vantage point from the VIP area, even relaxing as he was on the plush white lounge. He knew Rose was in a better position to study the party-goers – a Strigoi was more likely to be picking up a wasted human at the bar than one dancing with friends in the crowd. He ushered away a hired girl that was seductively offering him a dance, shooting her an apologetic smile. She shrugged, but her disgruntled huff led him to believe he'd offended her. He shrugged it off, knowing that any of his masked associates would be more than happy to take his place.
Silently, he cursed the dress code for the hundredth time as he scanned the crowd. He'd known this morning when Rose concocted this plan that it wasn't going to be easy, but he couldn't say no to her. They'd been partners for a year and a half now, and her crazy ideas had begun to appeal to him more and more. He told himself it had nothing to do with their romantic history – they'd buried that the day Rose had taken up her position as Lissa's guardian. He had to keep telling himself these wild nights off that they took together were only filled with the kind of tension that left some bodies in their wake, and nothing else.
Every time they went on one of these hunts, he found himself in the same position; watching Rose, denying that the excitement welling up in his chest had anything to do with her.
His eyes wondered aimlessly over the crowd, not really seeing the scene unfolding before him. It was more of the same. He was lost in his own thoughts, anticipating the night ahead, and hoping against hope that Rose would spot a Strigoi in the faceless mass of the rich and elite.
Not because he was looking forward to a kill – although again, that's what he told himself it was about – but because he knew that when Rose spotted a target that she would come find him. And when she came to find him, there would be a brief, blissful moment that would bring his temperature up, fire off every centre of pleasure in his brain and make his heart drum in his chest.
Unable to stop himself, he glanced once more at the bar. It had only been a few minutes, but Rose was gone. He unfolded himself from the lounge and stood, scanning the crowd for a flash of red, or her long dark hair. He knew she wouldn't have gone off alone, but he found himself getting anxious all the same.
A tap on his shoulder turned him on his heel, and he was met with the sight of Rose's familiar brazen grin and sparkling brown eyes underneath her red mask. "You're much more conspicuous when you stand up," she yelled over the music. His heart leapt, and he gave it a stern reminder that this was business.
"How did you get in here?" he shouted back, indicating with one hand the VIP badge he wore on his suit lapel. Rose rolled her eyes and cupped her breasts, and whether it was something about the club, or maybe the two shots he'd taken, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her grasping fingers pressed against skin and red silk.
Rose didn't seem to notice, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back down onto the lounge. One of the men gave him an appreciative nod and a thumbs up as Rose seated herself so that her body pressed against his, and her lips were at his ear.
"One is over at the bar right now with the blonde girl in silver. Follow me."
Dimitri heard her words despite the roar of music, and the thunder of his heart in his ears. The sober part of his brain processed the next few steps of their plan, but he couldn't stop his imagination from running ahead, anticipating their next move – the cover story.
Barely a breath filled the pause before her lips were on his, the taste of her overriding all his common sense, like it always did. He responded too eagerly, pulling her closer until she was almost on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her tongue tangling with his in a rare moment of reckless abandon.
It was over too soon, like always.
After all, it was all for show. There was nothing real between them, just the need for an excuse to wander out into an abandoned alley without arousing suspicion.
Rose lingered for only a moment, her cheeks flushed and her eyes vibrant. Dimitri had to remind himself that she was probably thinking about the hunt, and not about him. He had to remind himself yet again that he should be thinking about it as well. Not her eyes, or how soft her hair was, or how out of control things might have gotten if she'd kissed him like that when they were alone.
She pulled away, stood and walked back down the stairs onto the dance floor. Over the music, he heard the faint whooping of the men he sat with. He smiled cockily, and gave them a mock salute as he stood and followed Rose out of the VIP section. His disdain for their behavior couldn't overcome the high of her kiss.
On his way down the stairs, he spotted the couple that Rose had described. Fortuitous that she'd found them so quickly, especially with the masquerade being what it was. They were halfway across the club, already headed for an exit. Rose shot him a frantic look.
It would take them at least a minute to catch up, and a minute might be more than they could afford.
Sobered, they forced their way through the crowd hand in hand so they didn't get separated in the swarm of enthusiastic party goers. Dimitri gritted his teeth as they passed a speaker, vibrating violently on its pedestal.
It seemed to take forever to cross the floor, but eventually they were pushing through an emergency exit, spilling light and sound into the concrete and brick back alley.
Rose faked a laugh as the door creaked open and they stepped into the night, her hand slipping from Dimitri's to his belt, where she gripped one of the two stakes he'd brought with him.
The Strigoi and his prey were further down the alley against the wall, and seemed far too distracted to notice that they had company.
"You get her out," Dimitri muttered, "I'll take care of –" his sentence was cut short as a burst of brilliant light cut across his vision, pain springing in his jaw as he staggered out of the doorway. He vaguely heard Rose shout something – he assumed it was a curse – before his reeling senses began to settle.
He fumbled for his stake, cursing himself for not preparing for this.
His attacker was preoccupied with Rose, her stake glinting in the moonlight, her expression cold and determined. Dimitri couldn't allow himself his usual moment of admiration, because the second Strigoi had noticed their scuffle and had abandoned his victim. Dimitri had forgotten how fast they could move. It always seemed to be that way –you never really got used to the speed or strength, no matter how many you fought.
The Strigoi had the upper hand. By the time Dimitri had his stake out and ready, he was being forced to the ground by a full body tackle. With no time to regret his complacency, he struggled against the Strigoi's attempts to pin him. Just his luck, this one had been a dhampir before he was turned. He could feel the strength in his arms wavering as the Strigoi forced it's bodyweight over him, teeth bared and red eyes gleaming as Dimitri finally forced his stake into position and let the Strigoi fall over him.
Rose watched the Strigoi roll off Dimitri, and hurried to stretch out her hand and help him up. Two stakes, Dimitri's from the front, and Rose's from the back, protruded from his twitching body. It had taken Rose longer than she'd hoped to dislodge the stake from her opponent to come help Dimitri.
Breathing heavily, she scrutinized her partner. There was a bruise forming on his jaw, and his dress shirt was torn, but otherwise he appeared unscathed. Satisfied that he would live, she grinned and picked his mask up off the pavement.
"Damn, that must have been embarrassing for you," she jibed. Dimitri huffed and brushed off his pants.
"I've had finer moments," he admitted. He jerked his stake from the Strigoi's chest. "Where's the human?"
"She ran away."
Dimitri frowned as he struggled to dislodge Rose's stake as well. "Did she see anything?"
Rose rolled her eyes. "I was a little busy, Comrade. Besides, she's a drunk rich girl, and in a few hours these bodies will be gone. Who's going to believe her?"
Dimitri pointed a stake at her chest and raised his eyebrows. "You've got to work on that attitude," he reprimanded playfully. "You're going to get us both in a lot of trouble."
"If you didn't want to get in trouble, you shouldn't be with me," she reminded him, handing him his mask.
"Court sanctioned partner, nothing I can do about it," he lamented. "I'm stuck with you until one of us dies."
Rose laughed, and regardless of the bodies at their feet, the mood lightened. "Call an Alchemist and tell them they've got a job to do. I'm going inside to try and get the blood out of Lissa's dress."
Dimitri fished his phone out of his pocket as Rose pulled the heavy fire door open and stepped into the loud, bright, luxurious club. It was one hell of a way to spend Valentines Day, but she knew she preferred it over the options back at Court. She would have been lying to herself if she said she'd wanted to spend it with anyone other than Dimitri, and seeing as she wasn't allowed him, this was the next best thing.
The bathrooms of the club were brightly lit and pleasantly scented with lavender. A range of perfumes rested on top of a brightly lit shelf that ran underneath the broad mirror, and two plush pink settees sat in the corner next to some potted aloe vera.
"Nice," she muttered, impressed and a little bitter. She imagined this was the kind of life Lissa could live, if she was so inclined.
Turning to the mirror, she scrutinized the blood on her dress. There was more than she had realized, and she bit her lip, considering her options. She would have to stand in this bathroom in her underwear while she tried to get it out with soap and a hand drier, or she could just pretend someone had spilled a drink on her.
Sighing, not particularly in the mood to put in effort, she opened her clutch and spent a few minutes fixing her makeup and brushing through her hair instead. By the time she finished, you could barely tell she'd just killed a man.
Dimitri was waiting patiently outside, his formal jacket buttoned to disguise the tear in his shirt and his mask back on. Rose stopped in the doorway, taking a moment to admire the way he looked when he put in effort. Despite the mask, there was no mistaking his attractive features and incredible body.
He noticed her watching, but didn't acknowledge her except for the small indulgent smile that brightened his face.
Normally, they would leave now. Slip away back to court and pretend that none of this had happened, that they hadn't gone on a two hour road trip just to hunt down some Strigoi. But it seemed like such a pity to waste the opportunities The Farraday presented – anonymity and moral apathy. Maybe the vibe of this place was getting to Dimitri as well. She'd thought his kiss had been a touch more determined tonight, determined in a way that had left her breathless and quivering under his touch. With the memory of their kiss tingling on her lips, she approached him, trying to find the words to ask him to stay.
He watched her approach, and smiled when he saw the blood still stained her dress. Perhaps she should have tried to remove it. It served as a sobering reminder of their purpose here, and their positions back at Court. A rush of something cold and stern had her shaking the remnants of her bold thoughts from her mind and instead Rose made a sensible decision – something of a rarity, for her. "Let's go home."
They made their way from the bathrooms, back out into the club. As soon as Dimitri stepped back out onto the dance floor, the anxiety of their rashly planned hunt lifted, he felt himself being swept up in the atmosphere of the club. He blinked a few times against the dazzling lights, and tried to tune out the unrelenting beat of music that shivered through the room, but to no avail.
Sure, it could have been the two shots, or the adrenalin of a successful hunt, but there was something about this place that made everything seem possible, even reasonable.
Rose pulled him through the crowd, and he tightened his hand around hers, taking in the scenery. A masked girl beside him swallowed one of those bright pink pills, and as his eyes drifted up to the VIP lounges he could see the bachelor party getting wildly out of hand. He smiled, a euphoric recklessness filling him.
Rose tugged at Dimitri's hand when she realized he'd stopped, not wanting to lose him, but also aching for a way out of the throbbing, sweaty mob of people moving around them. She turned, ready to give him an exasperated look and an extra hard tug to keep him moving.
Her complaint caught in her throat when she saw his expression, eyes bright and a smile more dazzling that the lights flashing over the crowd. He pulled gently at her hand, and she stepped back towards him, the crowd of people becoming faceless and inconsequential. The music stopped being loud and obnoxious. Its rhythm was dark and heavy, echoing the beating of her heart and charging every nerve with excitement and treacherous desires. It was the kind of song that brought out the irresponsible sinner in a girl, and that side of Rose didn't need a lot of encouragement, especially when Dimitri was involved. His smile was one she hadn't seen in a while, reminiscent of stolen moments. It urged her closer, brought up old memories and lit a fire that burned away her good sense and moral compass.
Her blood rushed with adrenalin, and she utterly understood why the people in this club were so caught up in its fever. She could feel the giddy smile on her face, and the beat thrumming through the floor, vibrating through her bones and enticingly offering her a way to express some of those pent up frustrations.
Part of the thrill was the total anonymity of the party – the masks, the crowd, the way they could easily lose themselves to the fever without a second thought. It was intoxicating. Before she knew what was happening, Rose found her hands on Dimitri's chest, her body moving shyly with the beat pumping through the club.
There was nobody here that they knew. Two hours away from home, surrounded by strangers. The perfect scenario for a sin they could forget about tomorrow.
The same thoughts were occurring to Dimitri, the same temptations guiding his hands to Rose's silk covered hips and overriding his better sense. He wasn't sure that she still had feelings for him or if she looked forward to their faux kisses the way that he did, but right now he was willing to take some chances.
Emboldened by Dimitri's hands on her hips, Rose swayed a little more dangerously to the beat pounding through the speakers. He responded with another burning smile, and his caresses wandered daringly to the curve of her ass. Whatever space had been left between them disappeared as Rose pulled herself close, gripping the lapels of his suit as she ground herself against him. The press of bodies around them had the temperature soaring almost unbearably, yet Dimitri's hands still trailed fire over her skin.
It felt anonymous and personal, despite the crowd. No one was watching them. His hands were on her bare skin, pulling up the hem of her dress, tracing the lace pattern of her underwear. Her lips were on his neck. Excited breaths whispered over their hot skin as the bass thundered through the floor. Her hips ground against his with a rhythm that set his head spinning.
The music was exhilarating and Dimitri's hands masterfully arousing as they roamed her curves. A hunger that left her lightheaded and weak-kneed was stealing through her body. She could feel a buzz of adrenalin and lust, a need for more heating between her legs and tingling in her chest.
She was glad the music was so loud – she was sure she wouldn't be able to speak through the thickness of her desire, the way it twisted her stomach in knots. With one hand at the base of his neck, fingers wrapped up in his locks, she pulled her lips from his collarbone and met his gaze.
His eyes were dark with passion, and that wicked smirk still graced his beautiful face. It seemed crazy now that either of them had ever wondered if there was anything more than platonic friendship left on the others behalf. Whatever questions lingered between them were answered here; they both wanted this.
They both wanted more.
