Weakness of the Enemy

Author's Note: OK, so first – at the time of writing this I have not seen episode 5.07 yet. But I'm on Tumblr so I know how it worked out. This is going to be a slightly AU from season five, but Mark and Vex will be meeting in a different way. I also know a lot of people have read my other story, and I will (eventually) return to that but I can't always control my muse. Enjoy!

Chapter One: The Black Ball

By the time Mark arrived at the masquerade it was already in full swing. He brushed his cape aside to lift his eye mask at the door, revealing his identity to the doorman, who proceeded to check his name off a list, then stepped aside to allow him entry. The ballroom was grand, and dimly lit. Candlelight glowed from sparse candelabra between thick black curtains covering the walls.

He walked under a grand chandelier, passing through the crowd. Most of the people in the room were human, and a plethora of scents wafted to him, but the party was not without some human companions.

Everyone wore elegant costumes and bejeweled masks. He felt a little self-conscious, randomly shuffling his way through the throng. His father had gotten him on the guest list to this event, but he had no idea how he would find him. There had to be over two hundred people in the room, some dancing, more over by the bar and scattered tables on the far side.

Still new to town, he wondered if some of the other Fae he had encountered would be in attendance. Bo, Tamsin, he thought of a couple names and thought that while he might not know them well yet, this didn't seem like the kind of place they would feel comfortable. It might appeal to that human Kenzi, however, and if his father got him in, he most certainly could get an invite for her.

Unsure of what to do, he made his way towards the bar. The sexual energy here was thick, and he wasn't the best at keeping his passion in his pants. A drink in his hand was a nice distraction, he found.

Downing his beverage, he scanned the room, trying to pick out his father's unusual gait among the masses. Failing, he decided he might as well have fun in the meantime, and took to the dance floor.

The music blasting out of the speakers mixed classical tunes with techno beats, and the dancers twirling on the hardwood floor were just as confused as what pumped from the corners of the room. The dance floor seemed to be split down on the middle; on one side, people danced away like they would at any night club, while on the other, the grand gestures of ballroom dancing reigned supreme. While the ballroom style appealed to him, he had no idea where to even begin with the movements, and no partner either.

So he joined the side of flailing arms, temporarily losing himself in a sea of bodies rhythmically bouncing off each other. As he danced, he let the drink he had a few minutes ago ease him into a sort of trance, and suddenly someone was grinding up against him.

He could only make out fiery eyes and the blur of a goatee, but not much more. The other man's motions were jerky yet graceful, a strange blend of frantic and liquid gestures that somehow achieved extreme sexuality. Dancing together, he also took notice of the skin tight leather costume he wore. It was almost like an all-black Victorian bondage outfit.

Eh, he thought, stranger things have turned him on.

They danced in anonymity for nearly half an hour before Mark leaned in, placing both his hands on the other man's shoulder to calm his shaking body. "How about a drink?" he shouted over the music.

"How about one, at that?" The man said with a distinctively British accent. "First one's on me!"

The man curved an arm around Mark's waist and led him away from the main floor. They ordered their drinks, and Mark was led to a dark, slightly quieter corner. A few people milled about near them, but otherwise they had about as much privacy as they were going to get.

"So how'd you end up here, mate?" the man asked.

"Well… that's a long story," Mark said, blushing a little. It was actually quite a difficult story to tell. "Nice party," he added, trying to change the subject.

"OK, so we're not there yet," he said. "The name's Vex, by the way."

"Mark."

"So, Mark, where'd ya hear about the gala tonight?"

"My father got me on the list." Mark shrugged. "I guess he's kind of a big deal around here or something."

Vex gave a wicked grin. "It's always nice to meet new friends with familial connections. I have a few of those around here meself, maybe I know him?"

"His name's Dyson."

Vex froze for a moment, and Mark caught it. An awkward silence fell between them, then Mark offered, weakly, "So I guess you know him…"

"Yeah, it's safe to say we've not always been the best of friends, but it's not like he hates me," Vex offered. "Anymore, anyway."

Mark knew there was a story in that, but he sensed that, like his origins, it was one Vex wasn't comfortable telling upon a first meeting. He decided to once again change the course of their conversation, and asked for Vex to take off his mask, so "he could see the rest of that beautiful face."

Laughing, Vex held out his drink for Mark to hold onto, then used both hands to delicately lift the mask over his hair. "Don't want to mess up the styling, you know," he said with a chuckle.

With his full face exposed, something deep within Mark tightened. He was beautiful, in kind of a jester-like way.

"Your turn," he said, reaching for the glasses.

Handing them over, Mark also removed his mask. Vex took a while to look him over, it was almost like he was trying to memorize every line, but his face remained blank. "Like what you see?" he asked softly.

At first he wasn't sure Vex had heard him over the sound of the music, until he leaned in for a deep, lingering kiss. He thought it might last forever if some hadn't come running over shouting Vex's name.

The kiss broke, and he stood for a bit with his eyes closed, not even really hearing the conversation happening right before him, until his name was called.

Turning, he saw Kenzi standing before them, already unmasked. A man he had never seen before had one arm draped casually around her shoulder. "Oh, hey Kenzi," he said weakly.

She smiled at him, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

"I've never had the pleasure of a kiss like that with Vex, here, but I can only imagine." She said. "Oh! Sorry," she said, looking up at the stranger, "guys, this is Ashton, I met him a few days ago."

"Hello," Ashton greeted. His eyes glowed faintly, but Mark couldn't detect anything Fae about him. It was strange, but who was he to judge?

They talked for a few minutes before Kenzi pulled Mark to the side. "So this one, eh?" she motioned back towards Vex. "You're one lucky guy."

"Thanks, but we just met."

"I saw that kiss from across the room. And you're pause before coming back to the real world after it ended?"

"What about your new guy. What's going on there?"

Kenzi looked confused for a minute, then said, "Oh right! The eye thing."

"You don't think that's a little odd?"

"He told me he has a very small amount of Fae blood in him, from a few generations back. It's basically diluted into nothing – he doesn't have any powers or anything, just a neat eye trick that he can't seem to turn off. He's welcome in Fae circles, though."

Something about the story didn't seem right, but he didn't want things to get heavy. He wanted to go back to kissing Vex, who was chatting with Ashton. They both stood rigidly, which although he only just met Vex, he didn't seem like the kind of person to ever be uncomfortable.

Kenzi noticed his longing stares, and face-palmed herself. "I'm so sorry! I interrupted a new thing here. I'll get Ashton and get out of your hair!"

"No, it's OK. I'm still working on making friends here," Mark said, secretly relieved to hear her make the assumption. "So thanks for coming over. We'll have to hang out soon."

"Hey, if you're with him," she jabbed her thumb in Vex's direction, "I'm down. He's a master with a mascara brush."

Winking, she spun away, jerking Ashton with her, and they disappeared into the swirl of the dance floor.

"Are we still waiting on dear old Daddy to show up, or have you had enough of these fancy surroundings?" Vex asked, striding up to Mark.

"I don't even know if I could even find him in this. I didn't know how large this party was going to be. Is everything this… grand here?"

"Oh sweetie," Vex cooed. "You have no idea."

"I guess I'm good to go. I'll just call Dad in the morning. Did you have any place in particular in mind?"

"There's a lovely little pub not too far from here, or myself is just a little beyond that."

Mark leaned over and kissed him again. The sparks flew again, but he remained in control of himself this time. "Slow down a touch, cowboy. Let's start with the pub."

Pulling the mask back down over his face, Mark led the way back across the room holding Vex's hand, who trailed behind. In the dim lighting Mark felt like he walked through a dream. These feelings bubbling up within him – he had never felt something so immediate, so desperate. Yes, he wanted to bypass the bar and just go home and fuck this man silly, but feared how that might come off. The last thing he wanted was Vex thinking he was some weak one night stand. What he wanted, more than anything, was to learn more about this enigmatic man, to learn the kind of things you can't learn in just one night.

Why he felt this strongly, he wasn't sure. There was no sense of an enchantment, unless… Unless this was the feeling that rose to the surface when he finds the one, that one special person to give his love to. Of course he knew the truth about shifters, and had heard about what happened with his father.

The feeling was strong, and primal, but he had to be sure.

So for now, drinks.

They wandered the streets until they stumbled upon the Dahl, which Mark guessed he should have expected. Where there any other bars in this town?

When they entered, the tense energy in the room was palpable. It was more overwhelming than the stench of two hundred Fae. Bo and Tamsin sat on opposite sides of the bar, their backs towards each other, nursing their own favorite poisons.

"Looks like we came on the wrong night," Vex whispered in Mark's ear. "Whatever, it doesn't have to affect us getting to know each other a little better, eh?"

Mark wanted to at least go over to Bo and ask her how she was doing, but decided he had better remain neutral for now. He smiled at Vex, and pulled him close. "Which seat looks good?"

"Probably the one in the middle of No Man's Land," Vex stated.

Did he sense that Mark wanted to remain on neither side of this argument? It made him feel lighter, and again he got that sensation that this was the man he was fated to be with. As much as he hated the word, he nearly swooned. After thinking about it, he thought that the word was actually appropriate.

"Sounds perfect."

They placed their orders, draped their respective capes over the backs of their chairs, and really took the time to let each other absorb the other's appearance – this time in decent light. Mark shifted uneasily in his seat. He wanted to keep looking at Vex, to memorize him the way the inverse happened earlier, but his eyes kept darting to the left and right, trying to get a better read on his friend's body language.

Vex noticed this, and slumped a little in his chair. "Look love, if you aren't comfortable here, I've already suggested another option."

"Sorry, sorry," Mark responded. "I just know that things are rough between them right now. It makes me upset that there's nothing I can do about it."

"Just think about that, then. If there's nothing you can do, then do nothing. It's quite simple, really."

For the first time that night, Mark held a flicker of a doubt about this man sitting before him. Was Vex really that empty, did he lack empathy?

Some dark cloud must have crossed over his face, because Vex rushed in, saying, "It's not like that, OK? I don't just want to ignore them. But trust me, you do not want to get in the middle of those two. You don't know them as well as I do. They tend to work things out on their own, eventually."

That relaxed Mark a little bit, but his guard was definitely still up. Especially considering everything going on with his emotions, he wanted to remain on the defensive side, at least for now.

The drinks came and they chatted, but not about anything real. It was the superficial, first date type talk, well at least for the Fae. Mark learned that Vex was the last Mesmer, while telling him that he was a shifter, but he wasn't sure what form he would be taking. Vex caught on to his anxiety about it, and made some joke that somehow lightened the mood considerably.

Tamsin rose from her table, slamming the chair back, loudly scratching along the warped floor. Instead of looking towards her, they turned their attention to Bo, to see if there was any reaction. They could see her tense, and heard Tamsin stomp towards the exit. But to her credit, Bo never once turned, never once backed down from the obvious taunt. Once the door slammed behind the Valkyrie, Bo took a long, slow sip from her glass. Draining it, she beckoned to Trick for another.

"That was intense," Mark said under his breath.

"As I said, better to leave them to their own ways."

Their glasses emptied, and Mark felt the influence from the alcohol coursing through him. He rose from the chair, and had to grab the table to steady himself.

"You alright there?" Vex said with a gleam in his eye.

"I-I'm fine," Mark replied. "Just need to use the restroom."

"Seems like you could use a little help with that," Vex said, starting to rise from his seat.

"Cool it. We've only just met."

"One thing that I've learned about the Fae," Vex said, standing up and stepping close, "is that we are a bunch of horny bastards. You can't say you're uninterested. I've seen the way you've been looking at me tonight. The way you enjoyed that first kiss."

Mark sloppily pushed Vex back into his chair. "I'm intrigued, yes. But for this, you'll have to play your cards just right." He leaned in and kissed him. "I'll be right back, and then we can talk about your place."

As Mark walked towards the bathroom, Vex leaned from his seat and wished Mark's pants were just a little tighter. He needed to teach the boy how to dress.