Lucius looked boredly at the scantily clad woman with empty, deadpan eyes as she danced around in slow, exotic, sensual moves.
It was early morning, maybe four, and he was in the middle of a meeting with an important player in the upcoming war. This would never have been his first choice of a meeting place, but his...client had a considerable amount of money that he was more then willing to donate to the Dark lord, and had chosen the venue.
They had been here for more then an hour, but still, Lucius couldn't have looked more out of place anywhere. His back was perfectly parallel to his thighs, sitting so rigidly that he looked like a stone statue, perfect and unmoving.
He felt no attraction to the ugly, plastic women who were currently leering down at him, and only his Malfoy must-not-touch-the-unworthy attitude was stopping him from standing up and breaking their necks.
A few years ago, he may have enjoyed this… he would have allowed the dancers to arouse and satisfy him, but now…now, he couldn't even bring himself to fathom anyone else in his bed…even physically, his body refused to react to the heat of the club, the naked bodies twisting and turning around him, he felt nothing, nothing at all…he…he just wanted Narcissa. He wanted her smooth, pale skin, wanted her long, thick, silky hair, wanted her sharp, glowing eyes…he wanted her, and only her.
A young, heavily made-up woman who wore only a pathetic, PVC excuse of a skirt danced down to his level, flashing her assets for him to (presumably) admire. He sneered cruelly at her, then motioned regally with his hand. Go away. Pouting, the woman danced off, wrapping herself around a pole.
Looking straight at Lucius, she began to dance in what could only be described as a twisting, writhing motion, and he was so utterly bemused, so unimpressed, that he momentarily forgot who he was and who he was with and burst into a fit of uncontrollable, malicious laughter.
Did that little girl actually think that he would be aroused by her display of fake orange skin and peroxide hair? He mentally snorted. He tried to imagine what Narcissa would say to the dancer, had she been present.
He tried to think of all the witty things his wife would say, and with each thought came a feeling that felt like a ferocious blow to his chest…being here, in this substandard environment only reminded him that his beautiful wife was at home…waiting for him. Guilt stabbed through him like a knife, and tears welled suddenly and unexpectedly in his eyes. What on earth? Why was he crying?
Expertly and quickly schooling his features into a collected expression, he stood abruptly, hurriedly sealing his deal with the man as he did so. He wanted to get as far away from here as possible…it was doing odd things to his mind.
Making his way out into the dark, grimy street, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief and apparated back to the manor where the death-eaters were stationed. When he had joined the Dark Lord, he had quickly gained favour with him, and had thus gained the advantage of coming and going whenever he pleased, amongst other little privileges.
He reverently relayed the success of his deal to his Lord, and was rewarded by a break from his…illicit activities. For the next few months, his Lord would allow him to go back to his home and work, so as not to raise suspicion from the Ministry Of Magic. For the next few months, he was with his wife and son again.
With a spring in his step, and a gleam in his eye, Lucius Malfoy apparated to Malfoy Manor, tired and drained, but happy. He was home again.
A/N: PLEASE REVIEW...EVEN ONE WORD IS APPRECIATED : )