Coricopat glanced at the clock for the tenth time in the past hour. He sighed, finally pushing the papers aside. His sleep the night before had been fitful at best-memories entwined with images of masks and the sound of techno music keeping his dreaming periods restless as well. Rising, he retreated to his bedroom and changed into a similar outfit to what he'd worn the night before, without the tie this time. Steeling himself, he left headed for the club. Hopefully this would solve the problem he'd had the night before.

The club looked much the same, masked patrons standing around and drinking, chatting with each other and comfortable in the black light with the pounding music. The dj from the night before was talking to the two dancers again, working out a plan for the evening.

Coricopat slunk into the club, taking a drink from one of the servers and moved to the edge of the room. His gaze swept around even as he avoided too much contact. Mistoffelees tensed when he glanced toward the door, Bomba following his gaze. "So, how angry was Jones again when he ran out?"

"Very," Mistoffelees said.

The red head gave him a long look. "Please tell me you aren't going to try again with him."

Grids followed their gazes, shaking her head, "If it goes down wrong, Misto he'll have your hide."

"And if it goes right I'd be in his graces for a whole week," Mistoffelees returned. "Which would be a nice change."

"It would, but is it worth that risk?" The dark-haired dancer glanced between Mistoffelees and Bombalurina before focusing on Mistoffelees.

He sighed. "Probably not. Either way, I'll wait to see what he does. Back out, you two, the music's about to change."

Griddlebone gave him a long look but nodded, heading for the stage area. Bombalurina trailed after her, flowing easily enough into the music when the song changed right on cue, only hoping Mistoffelees wouldn't make a fool of himself in any way.

The dj watched the dancers, mingling with the crowd that stood nearby, and when an old costumer approached, he allowed the elderly man to flirt, acting like it was convincing.

Coricopat watched the dancers briefly, before his gaze trailed to the dj again, remaining fixed on him. Mistoffelees could feel his laugh getting more strained as he felt the eyes on him. Finally, he lifted his head and turned to the other man, stance questioning though he didn't move one way or another.

The taller man looked away at that, only then realizing he'd been all but staring. He shouldn't be there. He knew that before he came, but he was there now.

Shaking his head, Mistoffelees went back to what his job was, laughing at jokes that weren't funny, and leaning slightly in closer than would be decent. Coricopat watched him for a moment before turning his attention, partially, back to the dancers.

After a while, Mistoffelees got fed up with the entire thing and slipped through the crowd. "You came back."

The other man startled slightly, "Yes. I did."

"You didn't seem to enjoy yourself last night," Mistoffelees remarked, plucking a drink from a waitress with a tray walking by and handing it out.

"I didn't not enjoy myself necessarily either," came the response as Coricopat sipped at his own drink.

That startled a laugh from Mistoffelees. "That's a roundabout way of saying something. Do you always talk like that?"

"It depends on how many papers I've been grading recently."

Mistoffelees' brows shot up behind the mask. "Grading papers?" he asked, stumbling. That was unusual for the type of people who came to the club, and certainly unusual for who usually got caught up by him. But he supposed that explained the awkwardness.

"That is what I said," Coricopat nodded, eying the smaller man.

"Do, do you enjoy your work then?"

"I do, it can be moderately rewarding. Though tiring."

The corner of Mistoffelees' mouth twisted, trying not to think about rewarding and tiring work. "Of course. Why'd you come back here then?"

"I needed to get out again. And I...don't really know."

"Really?" Mistoffelees asked, as if disbelieving that. "And you came back here?" Even as he spoke, he'd been leaning slightly closer.

Coricopat shrugged a shoulder, not quite drawing away, "It may not have been my best decision, but...here I am."

"Here you are," Mistoffelees said, mouth twisting slightly. "What do you desire to do here then?"

"I desire nothing," the taller replied softly.

"No one comes here that desires that," Mistoffelees replied, aware there were probably much more lucrative clients he could be dealing with.

"I know not what I desire, then," he answered, tensing very slightly.

"No ideas at all?" Mistoffelees titled his head up at him.

"I slept ill last night. Perhaps returning here will aid that."

"I wonder how," Mistoffelees said, with a smirk. "This is the place of dreams and fantasies after all, more like to plague one's sleep than to help it."

"It seems best to face that which kept one's sleep ill than flee it."

"What, specifically, hindered your sleep?" Mistoffelees asked, having subtly inched close enough to almost be pressed against the other's body.

"I'm not certain it was any specific thing," Coricopat answered, leaning away very slightly when he realized how near the other was.

Trying not to scowl or sigh, the shorter man leaned back. "Then good luck on sleeping tonight," he said, taking a step back. He was not going to press his luck again.

The taller man straightened, resisting the urge to reach out and stop the other, "I..." He shook his head and fell silent.

"You?" the dark haired man asked, his frustration leaking out as he reached a hand up to shove back his thick hair from his face.

"I...fear it may have been the dance. But I don't know for certain."

"You didn't dance last night," Mistoffelees returned, tilting his head. "The song is almost over though, and a new one will start soon."

"No, I didn't. I'm not certain a dance will aid this in the least," he responded.

"Then what will?" Mistoffelees asked with a tilt of his head, as he made his way back up toward the stage area.

"I know not," Coricopat replied, quietly, starting to follow the other without realizing it.

Once at the stage, Mistoffelees nodded to Bomba, who moved toward the angular man as Mistoffelees headed for Griddlebone. Grids watched Mistoffelees approach, arching a brow, "Trying again?"

He shook his head slightly. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm starting to sound as confused as he is."

"Well, what's the plan tonight, then?"

"We'll see as we go," he replied as the music switched and he held his hands up to lead her through at least part of the dance, Bombalurina holding her hands out to the stranger.

Coricopat considered the red-haired woman before taking her hands and starting into the dance. Taking Mistoffelees' hands, Grids offered him a smile, "Well, good luck whatever happens."

"I'll probably need it," he murmured, offering her a smile before losing himself, for a moment, in the dance. It was an abbreviated form of the tango, one he'd always loved.

Bomba glanced the new comer over. "What are you here for?" she asked, softly.

"What is it with you people and that question?" He answered.

"It is sort of our profession," she replied. "Find out what people want and how to give it to them. And I know you don't want me."

"Then why ask me, if you know it's not you?"

"Because I am curious as to what it is," she said.

"Well, I will tell you the same as I told him, I don't know what I am here for."

"You might want to figure it out," she said, whirling him suddenly in a turn, at the same time Griddlebone completed the same move with Mistoffelees. The two women met up at the top of the stage, continuing the tango dance, leaving Mistoffelees and Coricopat facing each other.

Coricopat froze, not entirely certain he wanted the other as close as the dance would require. Instead he waited a moment to see what the other would do tonight. Hesitating, Mistoffelees held his hands out, into the follow position of the dance.

After another moment, the taller man finally stepped into the lead's position, caught the rhythm of the music and swept Mistoffelees into the tango. The shorter man tried just to focus on the dance, and not the partner. He knew these moves, yet it took all his concentration to not stumble over the steps.

Coricopat focused as much as he could on the dance and not what it felt like to have someone in his arms again. As the song ended he dipped the smaller man back, his breath catching as memories from his past and emotions from the current situation twined around each other and left his mind in a state of confusion.

Mistoffelees swallowed hard, mouth falling open. "A-and have you found what you were looking for yet?"

Setting the other back on his feet, he shook his head, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mistoffelees replied, feeling his stomach twist. "Still?"

"Yes, still," Coricopat stepped back. "I fear I'm more confused now than I was before."

It took all his willpower for Mistoffelees to not roll his eyes under his mask. "Then how will you find it?"

"I know not. But it won't be found tonight."

"Then why did you come?" Mistoffelees asked, free hand raking through his hair again.

"Because I hoped it would be."

Mistoffelees narrowed his eyes, glad that Bomba and Grids were still dancing in front of them so they weren't quite as obvious to the rest of the club. Coricopat's jaw tensed, "What would you have me say?"

"Why would I know the answer to your question?" Mistoffelees returned.

Shaking his head, the taller man turned away, "You wouldn't. I have to go."

"Who would I be to disagree?" Mistoffelees murmured, voice almost lost under the music. The other paused and glanced back at him before shaking his head and retreating.

For a moment Mistoffelees stared after him, jaw working.

Grids and Bomba came to the end of their dance, the shorter of the two women glancing back at Mistoffelees, her eyes widening behind the mask she wore. "It didn't work," she murmured to her dance partner.

Bomba shook her head, having tracked Coricopat's departure. She leaned back toward Mistoffelees. "Your uncle wasn't here," she murmured into his ear. "Find someone else and he won't know."

The smaller man nodded quickly.

"And don't risk that again, unless you know he'll stay," Grids spoke quietly.

"I wasn't planning on trying again," he replied, slipping from the stage.

Griddlebone looked at Bomba, "How likely is he to remember that if that man comes in again?"

"No idea," Bomba remarked, shaking her head. "I hope likely. Teazer's supposed to be in the next few days, isn't she?"

Grids sighed and nodded, "Yeah, she's due in tomorrow night for a week or two I think."

"Good," Bomba replied, lifting a hand as the next dance started. "Ready to fill the veins of these old, pompous men with lust?"

Smirking, the smaller woman took her friend's hand, "Always."

o-o-o-o

The next afternoon, Macavity knocked on Coricopat's door, lounging against the doorframe.

Coricopat hauled himself up from his desk and made his way over, opening the door, "Mac? What do you need?"

His friend blinked. "Well, I brought a bottle of alcohol to make up for the other night. You looked like a damned mess."

"The...oh, right. Come on in then."

Stepping inside, Macavity looked over him. "What's the matter? You're looking honestly disheveled."

"Haven't been sleeping well the past couple of nights. I'm doing alright though."

"You're not sleeping well," Macavity repeated. "That usually means something drastic. So, wanted to talk to you about that club. You left in a hurry."

"I told you repeatedly I thought it was a bad idea to be there in the first place," Coricopat responded, testily.

"Yeah, not convincing me in the least," Macavity replied. "It was a drastic exit. Whole place noticed it and honestly I don't want to think what trouble that boy got into that night with Jones."

The other man's expression shifted to one of concern, "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just...going was a mistake."

"Why was it such a damned mistake?"

"I'm still dealing with too much. And the entire bloody place is built on the idea of desire. I'm sick of desire, it leads to nothing be pain and destruction."

"You have to let go of that eventually," Macavity rolled his eyes.

"And maybe I'm not ready to do so yet."

"It's been a year and a half."

"So, what? I should toss it aside because it's been that long?"

"Yeah," Macavity agreed, nodding. "Look, whatever, are you going to be alright?"

"I don't know," Coricopat sighed, sinking down on the couch.

"Well," Macavity sat down on the far end, handing over the bottle of whiskey. "Any ideas?"

Accepting the bottle of whiskey, his friend shook his head, "At the moment I don't think so. I mean...I don't know what it would take."

"What do you think it would take?"

"I don't know! That's the problem. I..." He reached into the cupboard next to the couch and pulled out a couple of glasses, pouring one for himself, "I went back last night."

"Why?" Macavity asked, eyes widening. "Why'd you do a thing like that?"

"I wasn't thinking. I couldn't focus on anything, for some reason I thought it might help."

"And let me guess, it didn't? God, Cor, what is it supposed to help?"

"I don't know, alright?" the thin man snapped.

Macavity rolled his eyes. "Well, what are some of the symptoms then?"

"Confusion, distraction, I can't sleep. It seemed to clear up for a while at the club, but not for long."

"You sure you're not just supposed to have sex?"

Coricopat gaped at him, "Seriously?"

"You sound like a teenager discovering sex," Macavity said with a roll of his shoulders.

"Mac, I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Why the hell not? You desire someone, you sleep with them and then move on." And hopefully never go back. Honestly, Macavity just wanted his friend to get whatever out of his system so he could avoid Jones and his establishment ever again.

"That doesn't work for me, Mac. Things get complicated then. And getting attached to someone there would be a mistake."

"Then don't go back."

Coricopat drew a shaky breath, "It's already complicated."

"Then stay in tonight," Macavity said, lifting a glass toward him. "And drink yourself to sleep. Should work."

"I don't know...maybe you're right. Maybe I just need to get it out of my system."

"Well," Macavity patted Coricopat's knee. "I only had a few minutes to check in. Lots of business to see to."

"Thanks," Coricopat murmured. "I'll let you know how it goes. Whatever I decide."

"Yeah, either way, good luck," Macavity said, heading for the door.

"Yeah, good luck with your work tonight."

The taller man chuckled at that, closing the door behind him.

Coricopat looked at the clock, sighing. He already knew where he was going to be that evening, whether it was a good idea or not.

o-o-o-o

Mistoffelees looked around the club as the evening started. Few guests were there yet, and he looked back over the music selection for that night. Usually he knew exactly what was supposed to play and when, but that night he felt like something was entirely off.

Lifting a hand, he adjusted the mask he was wearing. For the most part it was still a simple white mask, with a line of music sheet paper over one eye and black trim on either side of the strip. The black light caught the black trim and highlighted it compared to the rest of the white.

Grids approached him, dressed for her first number, the white contrasting elegantly with her dark hair and tan skin, "Hey, Teazer just got here. Everything looking alright so far for you?"

"Certainly," Mistoffelees nodded.

"Jones isn't due in until late tonight, is he?"

"No," he replied. "Thankfully. He had business elsewhere, but plenty of his lackeys are here to tell him if anyone screws up."

"Of course they are. We'll make sure everything goes well, alright?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a nod. "It'll be fine."

Her gaze moved to the clock, "I'd better go see if Bomba's ready for the first dance."

He nodded, sending her off.