Chapter Four- Seven of Nine
They walked out onto an indoor balcony with two massive curving staircases on either side. What lay before them on the floor below was the largest, most extravagant and cavernous ballroom any of them had ever seen. The room, like the rest of the building, was dark and dimly light by candles everywhere. Laser lights and dark-colored strobes were cast lazily and searchingly across the floor and walls. An enormous, blood red chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. There was what looked like a water fountain near the stairs, flowing heavily with acid green liquid, what Jane assumed to be absinthe. And beneath them were about 200 beautiful, costumed guests. A live band sat on a large, elevated stage at the front, all dressed as ghoulish skeletons, and played a sexually-charged, fast-paced form of jazz. It was tribal, and heavy with drums. Flutes trilled like musical catcalls. Oboes and clarinets cooed enthrallingly, luring people to the dance floor. And my, oh my, did those people dance. It struck each man differently. Rigsby was instantly transported to the lyrics of Hotel California, the lyrics he'd always found beautiful and haunting, just like he found this scene before him of twisting, sliding bodies. Cho mentally likened them to pagans; savage, yet controlled worshippers grasping and holding each other intimately, firmly, moving as their gods and spirits ordered them to. Jane, by far the most calculating of them all, took in a different set of information. First, all of the guests seemed to be dancing with the exception of a few clusters of conversations, and all that danced did so with that lazy confidence and expert control that told him most of the people here were burlesque dancers or of a similar discipline. Each guest was immaculately dressed in a costume from a film or tv show and each costume appeared to be professionally made or bought at a dear price. No plastic masks or shapeless one-size-fits-all outfits in sight. The décor and general ambiance of the joint told him that whoever was in charge of this soiree had excellent taste and the money to back it up. In short, it was one hellava shindig to behold. Poison Ivy had had been standing silently to one side, allowing them to take in the splendor.
"Grace," Rigsby whispered, and Jane and Cho both saw a lovely redheaded girl in a long pink dress slowly make her way through the crowd. Jane looked just ahead of where she was aiming, trying to see if perhaps she'd spotted Liev, but when Grace finally found who she was looking for, Jane caught his breath. Grace had stopped in the center of the room next to an achingly beautiful and statuesque woman in a grey cat suit. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight twist and she appeared to have strange mechanical devices on her cheek, eyebrow and right hand. "Seven of Nine," Cho grunted approvingly. The woman was dancing with a handsome black man dressed as LeStat and hadn't yet seen Grace. She was turned to the side, so that Jane could only make out her lovely profile. Her movements with her dance partner were blushingly provocative, yet both moved with an almost clinical expertise, merely executing the steps of what to most people would be incredibly private mating behavior. They held each other firmly as they moved to a slow tango. She would slide down his entire body with her face inches from his torso, hip, leg. He'd pull her up by the arms, grabbing her right leg and lifting it clean over his shoulder, pushing her thigh against his chest and her other leg deep between his own. Their hands knew no boundaries and touched each other everywhere, and yet moved with such slow sensuality that it played out like love ritual and not raunchy club groping. Jane's mouth had gone dry. No wonder his normal tricks of touching Poison Ivy's hand hadn't worked, not if this was what they practiced on a daily basis.
When the couple executed their next turn, Seven of Nine saw Grace. Her posture changed instantly. She extracted herself from LeStat with a smile and launched herself at Grace, pulling her into a bear hug and both laughing heartily like little girls. She planted a kiss on Grace's cheek and cupped her hands around Grace's head, holding her and giggling as she looked over Grace's costume and smiled hugely into her eyes as they chattered away like teenagers. After a few moments of talking excitedly, Seven of Nine looked to one side and waved her hand over the crowd, beckoning someone over. Jane heard Rigsby growl low in his throat as Liev, dressed as Zorro, padded his way through the throng to the girls. Grace gave him a devastating smile as she pushed his hat back, took his masked face between her hands and planted a big yet chaste kiss on his lips. She talked excitedly, gesturing to her dress and flinging her arms around him in a huge hug. Liev laughed and returned her hug, swinging her around joyfully.
Jane felt Rigsby's shoulders slump without looking at him as Liev gallantly held out his hand in invitation and Grace happily accepted. He pulled her into a tango dance frame and began to move with her. The men watched in surprise. Grace moved with an elegance and silky confidence that none of them knew she had. Her movements were precise, graceful, and very provocative. When she held Liev and arched her body along with his, their eyes locked, staring each other down in a blatant battle for sexual dominance. He pulled one of her legs against his hip, sliding her dress up and running his hand up her bare calf and thigh. She gripped his shoulders, holding him tightly before plunging her fingers into his hair and bringing her lips within an inch of his, as if daring him to kiss her. It was all clearly an integral part of the dance, and yet it shocked all three of them. This was Grace, after all, not some lounge lizard sex kitten. Or was she?
Poison Ivy felt they'd seen enough and spoke up. "Kindly wait here. I'll fetch the 'organizer' for you." She said with an edge of sweet mocking. She disappeared down the right staircase and began to snake through the crowd. Jane turned to look at the other two. His heart broke at Rigsby's expression as the younger man continued to watch Grace dance. It was so raw with hurt and longing that Jane moved quickly to Cho. "So who do you think put this shebang on, anyway? Who in the crowd looks the type?"
Cho's stoic gaze moved through the various groups of people. "I'm looking for a Hefner type. Some old guy with a big cigar in one hand and some busty chick in the other. Why? Who do you think is behind it?"
Jane surveyed the crowd. "We're about to find out."
Poison Ivy reached the center of the dance floor, and to all of their surprise, gently laid her hand on Seven of Nine's shoulder. Jane's heart skipped. So the foxy borg is in charge. Figures.
Seven of Nine turned away from LeStat's embrace yet again and smiled at the interruption. Poison Ivy leaned into her shoulder and whispered into her ear. Seven of Nine's expression moved from pleasant surprise to mild amusement. Her eyes slowly lifted to the balcony as Poison Ivy continued to whisper to her. The boys instantly felt uncomfortable as she pinned them with what was becoming the patented serene smile at the House of Ill Repute. Poison Ivy backed away and Seven of Nine pressed her hands into her forearm as she conveyed her thanks. Seven quickly turned to LeStat and gave her excuses and moved towards the right staircase. It took awhile. Many people stopped her, hugged her, kissed her cheek and gushed wildly as they gesticulated around the room. She smiled warmly at each of them and thanked them for their compliments. When she finally ascended the stairs, the boys were positively fidgeting with nervousness. She stood before them in all of her shapely cat-suited glory and smiled at them like the girl next door. "Good evening, gentlemen. I understand that you're looking for me."