Paris

DISCLAIMER: I do not own a thing; this was written for the purpose of entertainment only.

*A/N* I've posted three stories for NYSM so far and I'm working on a longer one, but I've written a couple of scenes that are too short to post on their own, so I thought I'd make a little collection of them.

Apologies for my word choice and grammar, not very American (as far as I can tell). Enjoy!

"Remind me, what are we doing here?"

"Not letting our time in Paris pass by unused," he answered, still watching the French they had chosen as a target.

Henley gave an annoyed sigh at her one-hundred percent fun-proof comrade who had been appointed her partner in crime for today. Meaning she was forced to spend an entire night in a French club with the world's second-worst DJ and her arrogant ex-boss.

Hallelujah. She was obviously in for an unforgettable night.

"We could be standing on the Eiffel tower right now. Visiting the catacombs. Going on a walk through Montmartre."

"We're here to work," he replied, completely unimpressed.

"And it had to be you and me because…?"

"Because apparently I don't look gay enough to turn up here with any of the others," Atlas deadpanned, turning her around to get a better look at Étienne.

She had to hand it to him, it took a lot of self-restraint to utter that line and keep a straight face.

Or just a complete lack of humour, which was probably more likely in his case.

"Right, why can't we just stand around at the bar like every other normal human being? Why do we have to dance? To that music?" she whined.

"We'd look suspicious standing around at the bar all night without getting smashed within two hours."

Trying not to scream in frustration, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop whatever it was his hand on her hip was making her feel.

"Well, I'm gonna need a drink if I'm to spend all night here with you," she muttered angrily.

"Henley, if you really want to insult me, you'll have to try a little harder. Trust me, I've heard it all."

That shut her up for a second. She couldn't decide whether it was because of his sarcastic smile or because of what he'd just said. Hinting at his rather lonesome past was not his ultimate secret weapon, but he'd learned very quickly it always worked with Henley.

That was the problem with the illusionist - playing people was his thing, and he was incredibly good at it. As much as she hated to admit it, most of the time he had her wrapped around his finger within minutes.

"So we're gonna dance all night?"

"No, we'll be off the dance floor the second Forcier leaves it."

The next thing the DJ put up was probably the slowest song she'd ever heard in her life.

Did no one ever teach you that you don't put this shit up before midnight?!

"Yeah. Great. Would you mind keeping your distance?" she asked bluntly, throwing him a pointed look.

"How stupid would we look dancing at arm's length?" He tried to act innocently, but the smirk fighting it's way on his lips was giving him away.

"Daniel."

"Yes?" he asked, probably trying to get an innocent look into his blue eyes (if he was, he was failing miserably).

She refrained from answering and instead stepped on his foot, but was surprised to find he managed to keep a straight face even as her heel dug in his foot.

Impressive.

"Seriously, I need a drink. Now." As he didn't really react to that, she added a sickly sweet: "Daniel Atlas, you will let me go right now or I swear I'm going to hurt you."

He ignored her threat. "Okay, if you really want one, I'll buy you a drink."

Right… now it was getting suspicious. He caved in so quickly, and, more importantly, he was ready to pay for her drink? "Danny, if someone needs to get drunk to endure your company, that's not a good sign."

He grinned. "You swore to never get drunk again in my presence."

"Yeah, and now it got so bad I'll have to break that vow. What does that say about you?"

Would that damned song ever end?

"No, Henley, the question you need to ask is: what does that say about your vows?"

She looked up only to find his face a damn lot too close to her own. "You've lost me completely, Danny."

"No, see, that's my point," he replied, still with that triumphant grin on his face. "I haven't. I haven't lost you completely."

She shook her head, wondering whether he had drunk while she had been hanging around Forcier, pretending to be on the phone and mentioning Vegas a lot.

But then again, she knew how much it took to get Danny so drunk he stopped sounding like he'd swallowed a dictionary, and nobody could drink that much in five minutes.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of an answer, he let go of her and asked nonchalantly: "Tequila, is it?"

Hang on, six years and he remembers that?

"Yeah, but, what d'you mean, you haven't?" she repeated stubbornly, trying to read that smile of his. She got… nothing. There was probably a reason even McKinney didn't really manage to see behind Atlas' facade.

"Well, you… you also vowed you'd hate me forever," Daniel answered and disappeared in the crowd.

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