She was so tired of being good. It was this particular exhaustion that motivated her to pull on her lowest plunging, sparkliest, two syllable damn dress, slip into her highest heels and go out into the city. She couldn't bring herself to queue by herself to get into a club, at least, not without a minimum of two drinks inside her. So, with this requirement pushing her, she walked into MacLaren's, sat down on a bar stool and ordered the first.

"Hi."

She turned around, making sure her hemline hadn't ridden further up than it was intended to, and a smile spread across her face. He was cute; blonde hair, blue eyes, suit. Why did all guys look better in suits? Tuxedos were better, but they were strictly for proms and weddings only, so a suit would have to do.

"Haaaaaave you met-" He turned away slightly, beginning to gesture towards someone, but when she looked past him there was no-one there.

"Did you lose him?" she asked sympathetically. "I knew I looked good tonight, but I didn't think I looked scary."

He half laughed. "You are looking good tonight, not scary at all. But he's nervous around hot women."

She blushed slightly at the compliment, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "You can go get him if you want. I'll wait," she offered.

"Nah." He drained his glass, setting it down on the counter next to her. "You snooze, you lose. I think maybe you should talk to me instead."

She smiled. "I'm Rebecca." She held out her hand, then giggled when he kissed it.

"Enchante Mademoiselle. J'ampelle Luke." He adjusted his tie. "Do you speak French?"

"No. Well, maybe a little. Just some from songs," She sipped her drink, finishing it quicker than she intended to. He was really cute. And he didn't look good. Sure, he sounded nice, but he had this whole thing planned. Maybe he wasn't even here with a friend. But good, nice or even decent wasn't what she was looking for.

"So if I said voulez vous coucher avec moi, you would understand? Because that's from a song." He looked so innocent as he said it. Like he didn't know what it meant.

"Yes." She paused, and leaned in slightly. "Yes, I know that song. And I think I'd have to say oui monsieur."

He shot her a devastating grin, and in that moment she knew for sure he wasn't good.