Greeting. Welcome to the latest corner of my brain as I chase plot bunnies. If you've read any of my stuff before you know I typically have a song or two I mention. This one is no different, sorry. The idea, and title of this one comes from Mindless Self Indulgence's song Evening Wear. I listened to a few others as well but that's the main one. If I think they become relevant I'll post them :)

Big shout out to my beta Defeat Cigarettes. You rock.

Kat

He stood in the corner, next to the fireplace. It was secluded enough from the bulk of the guests to keep him from standing out, yet he could hear the gossip plainly. He snagged a glass from a passing waiter, and took a sip of the champagne. Events like this bored him, but in his line of work they were a necessity. The house was lavish to excess — gilded items were on every wall and surface, all the fabrics were rich silks and velvets. It was gaudy, tacky, and outdated, just like the woman hosting the function.

Noticing a woman walking his direction, he turned, disappearing into a throng of people. It wouldn't do to be remembered, even by a passer-by. Recognized, however...he had no doubt rumors had been circulating about him, not that there was any solid fact. He was much too skilled for that, and these society types never want to admit when they royally screw up.

Depositing the champagne flute on another waiter's tray, he ducked into the bathroom. At once, he locked the door with one hand, and undid his bowtie with the other. Trading it in, he pulled a long tie out of his pocket he unrolled it, skillfully knotting it. He pulled his hair back into a short ponytail before snagging a towel on his way out. Ducking into the kitchen, he grabbed a tray, Where was she…..?

And there, chatting up a man ten years her younger. If this was all she had biting tonight it was going to make his job so much easier. Granted he preferred men, but she was rich, dumb, and itching for an attractive young man. She was also infamous for dallying with the wait staff.

"Champagne?"

He offered the tray, giving her his most charming smile. Her eyes took him in hungrily. Mello had to hide his glee — this was going to be a piece of cake./p

"Well, hello there, what's a cutie like you doing on the wait staff?" She took a flute.

He gave her a wink taking on a southern accent. "I'm a working boy ma'am. Decided to see what the city holds. It pays the bills, and it's not all bad if I get to meet pretty ladies like you.

Lies. She was twice his age, wearing too much make-up, and was covered with gaudy jewelry. Her make-up was caked on so heavily it was flaking off, aging her, counteracting any affect the excessive amount of plastic surgery she had to "look young" had, not that it worked well in the first place. Her overabundance of jewels were set in metal with gems in every cut and color. None of it went with her gown. Stupid bitch couldn't even match her jewels to her dress. Women like that, however, didn't tend to notice when things went missing. They had too much to keep it all straight.

"Oh! A country boy, how delightful! What is your name, precious?"

"He gave a little bow. "Mike, Ma'am. Well…my Momma calls me Michael, but Mike to everyone else."

She took his tray, and the towel draped over his arm, quickly, depositing them on the closest passing waiter before taking his arm.

"Momma? Oh, I like the sound of that. How about you keep me company at the dreadfully boring affair…Michael?"

And she's on the hook.

"I would love that very much…Momma."

She gave a smile that was much too big, red lipstick smearing over her teeth. Gross. Not only was this one a cougar, she also had a Jocasta complex. Fuck that shit. He had planned on hanging around, but this was depraved even to him. Tonight was going to be tons of fun.

The things he did for money…fucking hell.

In the early morning, when even her house staff weren't up yet, he slipped from her grasping arms, and pulled on his boxers. He looked at her. If you took out her gross complex she wasn't a bad fuck, all things considered.

Lazily, he meandered over to the safe in the corner. He tsked as he cracked it. Dumb bitch bough some cheap mass-made one, one he already knew the emergency reset code for. He cleaned out the safe, stuffing the contents in a leather bag he found in her closet. Hell, even a few pieces of jewelry from last night finding their way inside the bag as well. His fence was going to love him. Getting dressed, he walked to her desk, and jotted a quick note, signing it with a flourish, like always. He placed it in the safe, and shut it before promptly disappearing.

I had fun, Momma. See you next time.
- M