The Tipsy Two-Step
"Perfect!" Lindsay smiled, clapping her hands together as she walked all over the palace grounds to inspect the work.
The gardens were beautifully kept and lightly blanketed in dew. The luscious greens of the bushes and grass accentuated the deep browns of the healthy trees and colors of the flowers.
"Good work!" Lindsay smiled, letting the cool evening breeze brush her sandy blond hair against her happily flushed cheeks. Her cream-white gown blew in the breeze around her legs, the hem just under her knees. The blouse was without shoulders but the sleeves were long and billowing.
"Hey Lindsay, the guests will be arriving soon." Mac said from behind her, fixing his cuffs. His suit was a plain black one with a black silk shirt with the first two buttons undone. He didn't wear a tie; he hadn't even touched a tie since Stella had loosened his before they went to Manhattan.
"Hey Mac, looking good!" She said excitedly with raised eyebrows. "You wanna look good for Stella, huh?"
"Oh, um..." He began to stutter nervously, feeling heat rush to his cheeks at the thought of her opinion. Though the admittance was for his mind only, he'd tried incredibly hard to dress-to-impress. Stella being the one from whom he was trying to grab attention. The woman had absolutely claimed his mind as a hostage, invading his every thought and quickly making herself at home in his heart. He had no idea how it had happened, but he'd fallen in love with this Greek Goddess come to earth, and he wasn't going to let her go. She'd invaded his mind and heart too much to let that happen. He wasn't a romantically gifted man, and he really didn't believe in the whole love-at-first-sight, weak in the knees, taking over your every heartbeat stuff, but this was too strong to deny. She'd done this to him, and dammit, she did it well!
"I bet she'll love it. She really likes you, and though she never answered my question directly..." Lindsay turned her head, flattening her eyes and brows and mumbling something under breath. She quickly turned back to him with bright eyes. "I think she's in love with you!"
"Well, we'll see." He rolled his eyes, though he quickly went to check his hair for the umpteenth time.
"Whoa, Mac, where ya headed in such a hurry?" Danny asked his blurry friend as he dashed by.
"Check something." Mac answered plainly.
"Alright, have fun." Danny mumbled, making his way to the ballroom. He opened the gold lined mahogany doors to reveal the showroom. Everything was ready for the party.
It was beautiful. Deep red velvet drapes were tied beside the large windows to let the moonlight in. The huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling left sparkles of refracted light everywhere. The buffet tables were all set up with rich smelling and looking foods, and the orchestra was practicing.
Danny made his way down the main staircase where the honored lords and ladies would be introduced from and stopped at the bottom for a moment, looking from the grandfather clocks on the other side of the large room beside the opposite balcony to the thrones below the balcony where Mac and his chosen lady-supposedly Stella-would sit at midnight.
Ah! That punch bowl! He moved to it as quickly but inconspicuously as he could. He took the tiny bottle of booze Angell had given him out of his inside jacket pocket and dumped it in. "Oops."
"What oops?"
"Ah-Lindsay!" Danny greeted, turning around to hide what he was doing. He was only supposed to put in a few drops; that's all it took to get the people in Hattanshire-ers drunk like sailors. "Just...bumped into the table is all."
"We ought to find you a new pair of glasses." She smiled.
"Yeah, but I don't know anyone else who wears them."
"So, excited?" Angell asked her friend happily.
"Yeah, a little nervous too." Stella admitted, looking down.
"Don't be! Mac can't wait to see you...even though he might not recognize you right away, which of coarse is the point." Angell babbled, losing the others completely.
"I'm not sure about this, Angell." She sighed, looking out the window and watching the shadowed trees pass by.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong hon?" She asked with worry, leaning forward and putting her hand on Stella's.
"I just...what if he doesn't love me?" She asked worriedly, clearly fretting over the fact yet to be established or denied.
"Of coarse he does! I've never seen anyone grow to love each other so fast!" Angell exclaimed happily.
"Well, goody for you." Stella murmured, pursing her pink glossed lips just so. She noticed the lights of the palace appear over a hill.
"There it is. Don't worry about anything, Stella. It'll all work out, just wait and see." Angell took the sunglasses from their perch in her curls and put them over her distinctive eyes as they neared the castle.
"I can hardly see anything out of these. What are they called?"
The palace was lit by warm fire glow and cool blue moonlight, giving the place a romantic aura. The white of the castle walls were tinged blue from the moon while the furnished brown of their doors had spots of orange shine from the candles and torches outside to guide the guests. The road coming up to the main doors circled around so the guests could get out and send their drivers on their way. The steps had a red carpet lain over them and the doors were held open by huge men.
"I told them to meet us inside." Angell said before turning to Hawkes. "Thanks buddy!"
"No prob." He smiled.
"Oh, did you bring them?"
"Yep, here you go." Hawkes handed her a pair of brand new glasses, magically guaranteed not to break.
"Thanks. Okay, come on, sweetie, let's go knock my brother on his ass." Angell laughed, opening the door.
Angell stepped out with ironically angelic grace. A white ball gown that tied behind her neck with black along the bottom hugged her figure well as she stepped onto the dirt in her white leather heels. After her came Flack, in his tuxedo and Kendall in a turquoise dress. "Come on, Stell. You're coming whether you like it or not."
"Angell." Stella groaned as her friend dragged her out by her wrists. When she finally did land on the dirt in her heels she tried to remain inconspicuous but a mysterious beauty with a dress like no other and some strange thing over her eyes is going to attract attention. Yay...
"Who's that?"
"I don't know."
"I've never seen her before."
Stella felt suddenly self conscious about the whispers being traded around her. She quickly clasped her hands together and kept her head down; a habit from Basil's Manor. "Angell, everyone's staring."
"That's a good thing!" She laughed as the group walked in. Inside the doors, Danny, Lindsay and Adam awaited them. "Hey guys!"
"That you, Angell?" Danny squinted, making out only vague colors and the figures of whom he thought were his friends.
"Yep, it's me, Dannyboy." She took out the glasses Hawkes had given her and slid them onto his face. "There y'are."
"Hallelujah! Thank you!" Danny cried, clenching his fists in the air and, finally having a reason for it, touched the bridge of his nose.
"You're welcome. Where's Mac?" Angell asked with a frown, hands on her hips. "Doesn't he know it's rude to make a lady wait?!"
"Last I saw him he was running off to check something." Danny shrugged. "Shall we?"
"We shall." Lindsay took his arm as he led her down the gargantuan staircase. Adam and Kendall went next.
"You coming?" Angell asked Stella.
"Give me a sec, I just want to look at the place." Stella excused herself, picking up the skirt of her gown and rushing down the hall that extended to the loft above and around the ball room.
"I'm gonna kill him." Angell scowled and shook her head.
"Who? Mac?" Flack blinked.
"Yeah! She came for him and now he's not even here!" She bellowed, making her tiara of angelic justice glow faintly with energy.
"There he is, over there, by the punch bowl. He looks a little...distracted." The closer they looked, the closer they could see he was swaying as he stood. "What the hell?"
"Messer!" Angell hissed, clenching her fist.
"What?"
"Nothing." She dismissed with a wave and a smile.
"Jess..." He warned.
"Danny and I put booze in the punch, but I think it might have been a bit too much." She admitted quietly as they made their down the stairs after their friends.
"Jess, that stuff is dangerous to these lightweights." Don scolded.
"It doesn't matter now, Don, they've already drank it." She said, looking at the people who were indeed...tipsy.
"Looks like Mac's already drank quite a bit."
Stella stood with her sunglasses on, sipping her punch. It was tangy, yes, but there was something else in it. It smelled funny, but she wasn't about to complain. She could feel her troubles lifting off her shoulders, not to mention her head. Her cheeks were flushed, and she could swear she was drinking...something. Just couldn't tell what.
Mac was leaning against the same table, on the opposite side, sipping his own punch and wondering where Stella was.
"And now Prince Mac must choose a lady to share the first dance with." A man announced over the ballroom.
He turned and found himself face to face with a beautiful mystery woman with some kind of glasses over her eyes. She had hair like fall leaves glossy with light autumn rain and skin like perfectly smooth sand. He could swear he recognized-even knew-her, but he couldn't be sure after the drinks of punch he had. "Excuse me, miss, but would you honor me with a dance?"
"Well, certainly, my lord." She her head without hesitation. Might as well wait for Mac and dance with this guy in the mean time. She couldn't see his face very well, but she had to keep the shades on. She blinked............Mac? Was she seeing things right? Geez...Mac?! "Mac?"
"Why yes, my name is Mac." He nodded, a half a sip away from slurring his words messily. He set his cup down, though, and took his mystery woman's hand in his. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. She had curls like a certain Greek he knew, but he couldn't see her eyes behind those dark glasses. He could guess it was the woman he was falling in love with but he hated to guess and be wrong, and he was in no proper mentality to say anything particularly intelligent. He'd had a few drinks of punch...okay, more than a few. "Yours?"
"Call me..." Stella paused. She didn't want to give herself away, but she had to give him something. A nickname from Saint Basil's occurred to her. They called her by it only when she was rooting around in the cinders of the fireplace for "evidence" of burned paper. She suspected the orphanage burned documents they didn't want the children to find, and she was always trying to prove it by taking cinders to Sid and testing to see if there was any trace of paper with ink on it. He had called it forensics, but she didn't think the long name for it would stick. Still, the name had stuck for a while. "Call me Cinderella."
"Hm...I've never heard that name before, but okay. Is it...German?" He asked dimly, starting to lead. Their steps were more graceful than their conversing as the symphony struck up a waltz.
"It's...Greek." She smiled, having a strange amount of fun playing with him. He was undeniably adorable when he let go of his mask, his wall, and let his wits drift about him a little looser than normal. Call her crazy, but she didn't think he got out and had fun all too often.
"Oh, I know someone who's Greek." He smiled fondly.
"Really?" She asked coyly.
"Yeah, her name's Stella. She's a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman. She and I met only a short while ago but..." He trailed off, either deep in though or crossing the line between buzzed and drunk.
"But?" She urged, excited about his praising words, which she knew were making her heart pound and her cheeks flush.
"But I think I'm falling in love with her. I haven't let myself love anyone like her since Claire, but I really love her, I know I do." He said more truthfully than a man in confession. He really was loose. He didn't know what exactly compelled him to admit such a thing to the stranger, but he tossed it up to the warmth in his head. "You have a very calming, truth evoking presence, Miss. I...are you sure I don't know you?"
"I wouldn't know." She shook her head, smiling.
"I just wish I could say something to her. I mean, I know I love her, but I can't seem to muster up the courage to tell her I even like her." He huffed, clearly unhappy with himself.
"Well, I bet she likes, maybe even loves you too." Stella laughed lightly. "You're sweet, handsome, kind, and you have this dark, mysterious, very...attractive quality."
"Well, thank you, but I don't think she'd love me. She's this amazing woman who's so out of my league I just..." He frowns.
"Well, I know she loves you too." She put her hand at the back of his head and brought her lips to his ear. He felt heat come to his cheeks as her breath swirled in his ear's bends. "S' agapw."
"I-" He knew it wasn't English. It was possibly Greek, but he couldn't be sure. He could just barely make out what it sounded like; S'agapo? What did that mean? "What?"
"I..." Stella looked at the clock, which said it was five minutes to midnight. "I have to go."
"What? No, please." He felt suddenly alarmed when she slipped out of his arms. He reached for her helplessly but she was already weaving her way through the crowd. "Wait! Please!"
"I have to go! I'm sorry."
"Stella?" Angell caught the faintest view of her friend fleeing the party in her emerald gown. "Stella!"
She didn't turn. She ran out the doors and went to the carriages. She found their little tomato with Hawkes petting Aiden and talking to her about how the sugar she liked so much was actually tiny crystals. "Hawkes! No time to explain. I need Aiden!"
"Okay..." He blinked, numbly handing her the reins and unhooking them. She thanked him and handed her the glass shoes.
"They'll only be a hindrance." She said over her shoulder as she mounted Aiden and took off, digging her heel into her side.
Aiden took off like a bolt of lightning, working her strong muscles to take her lady away as fast as her four legs could carry them. Stella was a good rider, sitting steady on Aiden as she ran over the path, making the distinct rapid clip-clop of hooves on dirt. She looked over her shoulder, back to the palace and at the cloud of dust behind them. The wind blew her hair wildly and stung her eyes.
"Stella!"
She turned to her right to see Angell, flying right beside her with a worried look on her face. Her chocolate tresses were blowing just as furiously, her bangs blowing up and every-which-way, showing her tiara. She saw Stella slow just the tiniest bit. "Angell..."
"What is it, honey?" Angell asked quietly, slowing her speed to match Stella and Aiden's gallop with a flap of her wings.
"I told him I love him, but..."
"You're still not sure if he loves you?" Angell frowned.
"He said he did, but I don't know if he knew what he was saying."
"He loves you Stella, I know he does, he just doesn't know if he's ready to love you." She shook her head. "After Claire..."
"He still loves her." Stella finished. "I can't ask him to love me if he's not ready. It wouldn't be fair to him."
"Give him time. I'm sure he'll come around."
"What if he doesn't? I can't just forget that I've fallen in love."
"You don't have to. Just let me talk to him."