Quick note: Magnus Bane, for those who don't know, is a character from the Mortal Instruments series. Drake actually reminded me of him: spiky hair, glitter, flamboyant clothing, similar attitude. Creepy resemblance.
2.
"Good luck happens when preparedness meets opportunity." ~Unknown
When Dave woke up that morning and saw an unfamiliar ceiling and felt foreign, silky sheets, he didn't panic or break into a nervous sweat. Oh no, instead, he relaxed back into the mattress and pillows.
He closed his eyes for a minute; his head hurt. He smelled men's cologne. Dave opened them again and got a look at his surroundings. The whole room was spacey and large. He was on an elegant gold-and-white bed lined with luxurious fabric. Dave felt around slowly; even his own bed didn't feel that comfortable. It looked like he had slept in this bed; no one else was lying next to him, like he thought. Dave laid his eyes on double closet doors. He raised his brows when he saw the expensive-looking vanity desk on his left. Perfume and nail polish bottles stood on the surface among a clutter of various items: rings, a box of glitter, gold and silver beads, a small hand mirror, and even makeup.
I'm in the lair of Magnus Bane, thought Dave.
He heard the sound of running water. Dave slipped out of bed. He was relieved to see his boxers and his t-shirt relatively unharmed. Despite not having a recollection of any previous events, Dave was sure something sexual had happened. What else was he to think when waking up in a stranger's bed?
Dave sunk to the burgundy carpet-covered floor. He didn't remember much. He did know that Bennet brought him somewhere, somewhere he normally wouldn't be. It was a bar…or a club of some sorts. It was to take his mind off that girl. Dave chuckled humorlessly to himself. What a way to forget.
"Chuckling so darkly in the morning, Dave?"
Dave looked up. It was that blonde Morganian at the bar, Drake something. He was wearing nothing but black boxers and an unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt. He was holding a toothbrush in his mouth. It must've been him in that unseen bathroom.
"How do you chuckle darkly?" Dave asked, fazed by his sudden appearance.
"I dunno. It's somethin' like this?" He attempted to laugh like a Disney villain.
He kind of chocked on the toothbrush.
"What am I doing here?" Dave inquired. He really didn't want the answer, if truth be told.
"Oh? You don't remember?" Drake raised his own eyebrows. He plucked the toothbrush out of his mouth.
He shook his head. "My memories are fuzzy. You might wanna fill me in."
"Or maybe not. It's kind of ugly."
A cold chill ran down Dave's spine. "What the hell happened last night?"
Drake sighed more dramatically than needed. He sat himself on the vanity desk's chair, and proceeded to look at himself through the oval mirror. He combed his hair with a brush but it didn't do much to tame the blonde spikes.
"Tell. Me."
"Ugh, hold on. My hair's a mess." He peered at himself in the mirror. "Maybe Bob can do somethin' about it."
Dave strode over to him and yanked he brush out of his hands. "I've been through a very messy breakup and judging by the pounding headache, a hangover. So it would be great if you told me what happened in the previous hours."
Drake snatched the brush back at inhuman speeds. "Okay, okay, no need to get your knickers in a twist."
Dave waited on the bed.
"Lemme start at… Oh yeah, the drinks." He adjusted himself on the chair. "We had drinks."
"I recall that part. Beer?" Dave guessed.
"Screwdrivers," Drake corrected. "And some martinis. Crappy martinis, but alcohol nonetheless."
Dave was beginning to have a bad feeling with this. When he drank, he tended to get more tipsier than average people. "What else?" He urged Drake to continue.
"We lost track of our conversation. You an' I started talkin' about all sorts of things. Like Bennet and our favorite type of drinks." He paused. "I even asked if you were a virgin."
Dave groaned, expressing emotion he hadn't in weeks. He put his hands in his head.
"I found Bennet and he was pretty upset because the twins were gone. I brought him to you and told him to take you home."
"Did he?" Dave asked scathingly.
"You were really drunk, Dave," Drake said, ignoring the question. "I was a little intoxicated. Bennet was not in a good state either, so being the good guy I am, I paid a cabbie to take him home."
"Do you even know where we live?"
"Nope. But at least he knew his own address." Drake put the brush down. "So anyways, after he was gone, you raised a ruckus. People were startin' to look on and I didn't need any problems going public."
"Why would they?"
"I'm famous, don't you know? And no, I'm not in Depeche Mode." Drake grounded his teeth, annoyed with the past comparison.
"Oh. I didn't know," Dave admitted. "So what else happened?"
"I took you to my place," Drake responded. He gestured to the room. "Nice, innit?"
"Keep going."
"You told me about a blonde girl. Becca, or something? I don't know how, but eventually, we ended up on that bed"—he pointed an accusing finger at the mentioned bed—"and dabbled in some foreplay."
Dave grimaced at the word. "Please, please, please do not tell me I lost my virginity to you," he moaned.
"What's wrong with losing it to me? I'm famous, I'm rich, I'm good-looking. I think I'm one of the top candidates to lose your virginity to."
"No," Dave snapped in return. "Maybe for some girls, but not for me. I'm a guy. I've only ever dated females. I don't do it with guys. I never have and I never will."
"You did it with me," Drake pointed out.
"I was drunk!"
"Calm down. I never did anything to you and vice versa. It was only foreplay and I told you to cut it out. I know prudes like you would've raised a fit to having a good night."
Dave breathed in relief. "So that's why I'm only in my boxers, right?"
"And shirt," Drake added. "But yeah, you're right. And I knew you'd probably complain to that master of yours. Balthazar Blake, right?"
"That's the one."
"So we didn't do anything. Which made you upset, but I can't blame you. I'd be pretty ticked if I missed this opportunity," Drake said, his voice laced with mirth.
Dave rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever you think. How come you didn't send me back to the apartment?"
"By that point, I didn't want you to go anywhere. Would you prefer waking up, confused, in your own home, wondering what the hell you did last night to waking up where someone has a memory?"
He had to admit Drake was right on this one. Dave suddenly remembered who this person was. A Morganian. A Morganian who tried to kill him, pulled him in a speed chase, and had crappy hair.
"What kind of foreplay?" Dave demanded.
"It was just…foreplay. You kissed my face a lot, but not the lips. Those are special." Drake smirked. "And you straddled me. Like I said, you didn't like it when I said no more."
"Then what?"
"After, I just let you sleep in my bed. This is my only room, y'know?"
"How did I sleep?" Dave questioned.
"Like a baby," Drake remarked. "I got up earlier than you and just went to the bathroom. Next thing I know, you're awake. Got any more questions? Because I have to pee."
"They can wait," Dave said, although they could certainly not.
Drake disappeared, leaving him alone in the large room. Dave was pleased to know nothing really serious took place, but it shook him. He and Becky never went past kissing, hugging, or holding hands. It was a taboo in their relationship. Had they even ever discussed marriage?
Oh no, because apparently, Becky Barnes didn't think she—
"I'm back," Drake announced. "Okay, go freshen up in the bathroom. We gotta go."
"Where?" Dave asked. He slipped off the bed. His headache was gone.
"Out. I need my ring, remember?"
"Oh. You kind of expected me to take you to Balthazar and ask for it, right?" Dave couldn't help the sinking feeling of disappointment. Was that the reason the blonde approached him in the bar? He felt like a tool.
"Well…yeah. I do need it, of course."
"…I can't just go up to him and say, 'Hey, there's a Morganian out there who wants his ring back.'"
"So he has it, correct? Mine and that girl Abigail's?"
Dave nodded. His master hadn't mentioned the rings much, but he had collected them at the scene of the Rising.
"True, he might be reluctant to give it back."
"Might?" Dave repeated.
Drake grinned cheekily at him. "Or…perhaps we can try something else."
"What else?"
"Maybe you can steal it back for me."
Dave balked. "What? Balthazar… No. I won't do it. Especially after what you did to me."
"Please." Drake waved a hand indifferently. "I want my ring and so would you if you were in my position."
"I don't need my ring to do magic."
The blonde raised a brow. "Interesting. But it is Merlin's ring, so I imagine you'd want it back anyways."
Dave couldn't say anything in return.
"Be a good sport, Dave. I'm totally harmless. And after that stunt Horvath pulled, do you think I'd be willing to help him or any fanatical Morganian out? I just want to continue my way of living."
The speech worked, only a little. "I guess so," Dave sighed. "But you tried to murder my master and I."
"Details," Drake scoffed. "Did I try to kill you in the bar? No. I had you at my apartment, defenseless and alone, but I didn't hurt you."
You did. You touched me and you knew I was into girls. But Dave didn't say these words. It would only complicate things. And he didn't want to bring his ex-girlfriend into perspective.
"I can't. Balthazar will notice."
"Has he talked about what he'll do with the rings yet?"
"He hasn't. He's in love with someone, you know. He's certainly busy."
Drake smiled. "I bet he is. He won't mind if one ring goes missing. Besides, one way or another, I'll get my ring back."
"How do you propose that?" Dave deadpanned. "Are you planning on keeping me hostage or something?"
"Tempting," Drake said, grinning. "But no. I can follow you, y'know, to your place and just find a way to seek my ring out. Very simple. I know where your underground lab is, after all."
Dave shook his head, frustrated. "I'm gonna go." He went into the bathroom, which was right down the hall. Dave ignored the fanciness of it all and quickly splashed cold water on his face. He managed to comb his hair into tame curls. He looked fine in the mirror.
"Where are my clothes?" he asked when he got back.
"On the floor, next to the bed. You tried to fold them, but failed." The blonde snickered while Dave found his things. He changed in the bathroom, hating how uncomfortable he felt in his attire.
"You look terrible," Drake announced when he got back. He had already dressed himself in new clothes. "Maybe I should take you shopping for something decent."
"Like I'd ever let you dress me." Dave looked at his hand, relieved Merlin's ring was still there. "I'm leaving now?" It sounded more like a question than an answer.
"I'm not holdin' you captive, don't worry. Go to your apartment; I won't follow you," Drake promised.
"Oh, really?"
"Really. If you're so eager, maybe I should see you later." Drake smiled once more.
Dave groaned in return. What would Bennet say if he saw this odd man appear at their door? Especially after his breakup with Becky? Dave was unnerved by the thought that Bennet might just mention him to Balthazar and Veronica.
"I have to go," Dave said, "and see if my roommate has spilled any details about our little meeting."
"It'll be our secret," Drake mocked him.
"It better be."
Dave checked to make sure he had everything. After, he headed for the door. The place was pretty simple, so he bet he could find his way out and the elevators or something.
Before he reached the hallway, Drake called, "Dave!"
He turned around unwillingly. "Yeah?"
Drake stared at him. Dave was suddenly aware of how tall he was. "You said you were happy about forgetting her, whoever the girl is. That's supposed to count for something."
Dave mumbled something in response. He left the penthouse quickly, fighting the urge to check over his shoulder the whole time.
