Chapter 7
Every time Simon took Darcy to one of his social gatherings she always found herself in the same position. Usually it was a seat by the bar or in some remote corner of the room where she could sit unobserved yet observant. She liked to play little games as she watched people and she would do an on-sight analysis of their characters based on posture or minute little details. That was a lot more fun than having to talk to them since the conversations usually tended to be really boring and mindless.
As she watched Simon walk around the room, chattering like the extroverted social butterfly he was, she couldn't help but smile. She genuinely loved him for all of his bitchiness and queen-y behavior because he was one of the few people who understood her and her crazy penchant for strange things.
Usually at these art shows all of the work tended to be the same and it amused her how people could mill around for hours pretending to like the work or even any of what was being shown. Bleah. Fortunately, they were having the show at one of her favorite haunts, Sanctum. She thanked the heavens for this discreet little bar and quickly downed a glass of shiraz.
After playing her little games such as "spot the nose job" and "discern the real tits from the fake" she realized that from across the bar, someone was staring at her.
He looked ok, if you could discount the whole retro-punk thing and the bleached hair. Then again, he was a bit too well dressed to be straight. Darcy never knew with the parties Simon brought her to, and she had learned to be wary of the good looking guys since they ended up going for Simon anyway. She turned away, not wanting to relive the disappointment, but when she looked back, he was still staring at her. Hmm. There was a note of interest there but there was only one way to be sure.
She motioned to the bartender, Jimmy and he leaned over. "Jimmy, you see that guy over there?"
Jimmy looked over to the other end of the bar. "Yeah. Seems to be giving you the eye Darcy. He's really checking you out."
She looked at the stranger who seemed so intent on her then turned back to Jimmy. "Maybe he's giving YOU the eye. Or maybe he likes my dress, as in he want to wear it."
"Maybe, hon. But my gay-dar isn't going off the scales here."
"You sure about that? Maybe it's on the fritz. Let's get a second opinion" she turned to look for Simon and waved him over. Almost immediately he was at her side with a questioning look on his face and wondering at the urgency.
"What's the matter sweets?" Simon asked, carrying a bottle of champagne that he swiped from a passing waiter.
They filled him in on the situation and asked him for his diagnosis on the sexy stranger at the other end of the bar. "Lamentably straight." Simon replied, before wading back into the crowd to mingle, swigging the champagne bottle.
Darcy and Jimmy just looked at each other. "Well, Simon says..." Darcy conceded, and suddenly she panicked. She couldn't turn to look at the guy now, it was simply much too obvious.
"Jimmy what's he doing now?"
"Well, he's getting up... and he's walking.... And walking some more... he's kind of hot but that look is soooo eighties... And he's got this nice leather coat thing going... Yup, too butch to be gay... And oh shit...." Immediately, Jimmy pretended to have something to do at the other end of the bar and gave every impression of being the hardest working bartender in L.A. while Darcy hissed at him.
"Get your ass back here! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means the guy you were talking about from the other end of the bar just walked up behind you and would like to ask if he could buy you a drink" said a heavily accented English voice from behind her.
Mouthing the words `oh shit', Darcy schooled her features into a modicum of composure and turned around.
"The drinks are free you know. Private party" she smiled in her no-nonsense, emancipated and empowered woman smile. `Ha! Try hitting on me now!' she thought.
And this was how Darcy first met Spike.
TBC
Every time Simon took Darcy to one of his social gatherings she always found herself in the same position. Usually it was a seat by the bar or in some remote corner of the room where she could sit unobserved yet observant. She liked to play little games as she watched people and she would do an on-sight analysis of their characters based on posture or minute little details. That was a lot more fun than having to talk to them since the conversations usually tended to be really boring and mindless.
As she watched Simon walk around the room, chattering like the extroverted social butterfly he was, she couldn't help but smile. She genuinely loved him for all of his bitchiness and queen-y behavior because he was one of the few people who understood her and her crazy penchant for strange things.
Usually at these art shows all of the work tended to be the same and it amused her how people could mill around for hours pretending to like the work or even any of what was being shown. Bleah. Fortunately, they were having the show at one of her favorite haunts, Sanctum. She thanked the heavens for this discreet little bar and quickly downed a glass of shiraz.
After playing her little games such as "spot the nose job" and "discern the real tits from the fake" she realized that from across the bar, someone was staring at her.
He looked ok, if you could discount the whole retro-punk thing and the bleached hair. Then again, he was a bit too well dressed to be straight. Darcy never knew with the parties Simon brought her to, and she had learned to be wary of the good looking guys since they ended up going for Simon anyway. She turned away, not wanting to relive the disappointment, but when she looked back, he was still staring at her. Hmm. There was a note of interest there but there was only one way to be sure.
She motioned to the bartender, Jimmy and he leaned over. "Jimmy, you see that guy over there?"
Jimmy looked over to the other end of the bar. "Yeah. Seems to be giving you the eye Darcy. He's really checking you out."
She looked at the stranger who seemed so intent on her then turned back to Jimmy. "Maybe he's giving YOU the eye. Or maybe he likes my dress, as in he want to wear it."
"Maybe, hon. But my gay-dar isn't going off the scales here."
"You sure about that? Maybe it's on the fritz. Let's get a second opinion" she turned to look for Simon and waved him over. Almost immediately he was at her side with a questioning look on his face and wondering at the urgency.
"What's the matter sweets?" Simon asked, carrying a bottle of champagne that he swiped from a passing waiter.
They filled him in on the situation and asked him for his diagnosis on the sexy stranger at the other end of the bar. "Lamentably straight." Simon replied, before wading back into the crowd to mingle, swigging the champagne bottle.
Darcy and Jimmy just looked at each other. "Well, Simon says..." Darcy conceded, and suddenly she panicked. She couldn't turn to look at the guy now, it was simply much too obvious.
"Jimmy what's he doing now?"
"Well, he's getting up... and he's walking.... And walking some more... he's kind of hot but that look is soooo eighties... And he's got this nice leather coat thing going... Yup, too butch to be gay... And oh shit...." Immediately, Jimmy pretended to have something to do at the other end of the bar and gave every impression of being the hardest working bartender in L.A. while Darcy hissed at him.
"Get your ass back here! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means the guy you were talking about from the other end of the bar just walked up behind you and would like to ask if he could buy you a drink" said a heavily accented English voice from behind her.
Mouthing the words `oh shit', Darcy schooled her features into a modicum of composure and turned around.
"The drinks are free you know. Private party" she smiled in her no-nonsense, emancipated and empowered woman smile. `Ha! Try hitting on me now!' she thought.
And this was how Darcy first met Spike.
TBC
