The underground club was dark, as one would expect, filled with the soft throbbing of the bass player warming up and the heart beats of the bodies that filled the room. Ben Gates and Abigail Chase has disappeared into the throng of people crowding the tiny dance floor after downing their first drinks, a show that Riley Poole, alone at the bar, did not expect from the quiet, modest couple. They always seemed more likely to curl up next to each other in front of a blazing fire and read than throw themselves in between complete and utter strangers just to rub up against each other. And as brilliant as Ben might be, he could not dance. Not that Riley was much better, but it didn't make much difference to the dark haired man. He was only sitting at the bar, drowning his loneliness in more alcohol than he had let himself consume in one sitting since college. He shrugged and motioned for another drink; if Ben and Abigail could cut loose every now and then, then there was no reason he couldn't either.

The lead singer took the stage with the rest of the band. He noted with amusement that she was the only one under six feet tall. Then she started to sing and he was almost hypnotized. It could have been the alcohol and the movements of the dancers, but as soon as she opened her mouth and that deep, melodic sound flowed out he was lost. The melancholy song rose and fell and he with it. The singer's voice ascended effortlessly through the notes, hitting each one with an easy perfection. Riley almost didn't notice when the seat next to him was finally taken he was so absorbed, but something about the way this girl moved caught his eye. He was no eunuch or anything, but to be so captivated by two people he didn't know in one night was a little strange. Chalking it up to the Guinness, he took another swig and watched with interest the interaction of the new arrival and the bartender, while keeping one ear on the music.

When the bartender saw the girl who had just arrived he gave he the thumbs up/thumbs down motion. When she motioned back with a thumbs-down and a sarcastic eye-roll he quickly poured her a large rum and coke, placing a shot of tequila next to it. Swigging back about half of the rum, she looked up at the stage, leaning against the bar, her shot apparently forgotten. Her first drink was gone before the song was over, and when the noise level calmed down to below shouting level Riley leaned over.

"Rough day?" he questioned.

"What?" the woman demanded, her head whipping around so fast, and her gaze so suspicious you would have thought he had thrust a gun in her back.

Riley tried to keep a calm, not drunk smile on his face. "The whole thumbs-down thing with you and the bartender. I figured it must have been a pretty terrible day, especially considering how fast that first drink went."

"Who are you?"

He grinned. "My name is Riley Poole, I'm not from around here. Judging by your accent, you're not either. I'm sorry if I startled you or offended you, but I'm just a bit too drunk to know when to keep my mouth shut. Like right now for example. This would be an excellent time to stop talking, but my mouth just won't. I'll buy you another drink to make up for it; my friends say it's the only thing that works." He paused, afraid that he had stepped out of line and was about to get slapped. To his immense relief, the dark haired woman beside him began to laugh, the sound disappearing underneath the opening riff of the band's second song.

She held out her hand, and leaned close, saying into his ear, "I'm Shana. It's nice to meet you Riley Poole. You've brightened my day considerably with your drunkenness, which I can honestly say I wasn't expecting in this place tonight."

"So why did you come?"

"What?"

"You said you weren't expecting your day to get better by coming here, so why bother?"

She smiled wryly. "It's better than an empty apartment, wouldn't you say? Besides, there's always the off-chance I'll be surprised, isn't there?"

Riley nodded. "There is always that. So, another rum and coke?"

"You pay pretty close attention."

"I notice inconsequential details."

There wasn't much they were able to say over the pounding, throbbing music. He thought about asking Shana to dance, but she made no move toward the floor and he was perfectly content to stay at the bar. Their conversation, though interrupted by the music lasted all the way through the first set.

"What do you say, Shana-banana?" Riley questioned his drinking buddy. "Feel like doing some shots?"

"Just how drunk are you Mr. Poole, and should I be worried about your intentions?"

"I like the way you phrased that, Ms. Oliver, and I've only had one beer since you sat down. I think I'm sobering up. It's quite disconcerting."

She laughed again, throwing her head back and letting it take over her whole body. "God it's a relief to talk to an actual human after being around those stuffed shirts all day. Alright, fire away. I'll just regret it come morning."

"All part of the package. Though may I add, no one's ever regretted the night the morning after spending it with me."

"Does that even make sense?"

"Does it matter?"

"Nope! Tom, send us some shots!"

Riley kept expecting Ben and Abigail to show up, but they seemed to have forgotten about him. Or they noticed he was flirting with someone and decided to be nice and leave him alone. He and Shana had each downed two shots before a shadow fell over them.

"There you guys are! Jesus, I've been… not expecting you. Sorry." Riley turned away from the strange man and went back to his conversation, only to see that Shana had yet to take her eyes off the man behind him and her skin was rapidly losing its pink tinge.

"What do you want?"

"I've been trying to reach you."

"I know, that's why I've been screening my calls you shit-for-brains."

"Why won't you let me explain?"

"Explain what? That you cheated on me and tried to hit me when I confronted you about it? You got one chance Ryan, and you blew it. Have a nice life."

"You little bitch!" Angrily he swung at her. Riley tried to stop him, but before he was halfway out of his seat Shana had grabbed Ryan's arm and forced him into the solid oak bar.

"Call me again, email me again, try and approach me anywhere again and I'll call the cops. Got it asswipe?"

"Yes." He ground out, trying to rip his arm from her grip behind his back.

Shana turned to Riley. "Wanna jet?"

"Umm… sure. Just let me tell my friends."

"Okay. Meet me at the door in a minute."

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Ciara had picked up her bag and was about to leave when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the id and picked it up.

"Hello Ian, out so soon?"

A low laugh drifted over the line. "What can I say? They let me out for good behaviour."

"I somehow have difficulty believing that." She waved good-bye to Felix, the lead guitarist. "What do you want Ian?"

"I've got a proposition for you love."

"I'm listening."

"I've heard from a reliable source that you're in England right now."

"Wow, you really do know everything."

"Aw, c'mon love. Don't be like that. I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime."

"Funny, I've heard that before. Didn't you end up in jail with your last 'chance of a lifetime'?"

"Look, there's a treasure buried in England. I want your help to get it."

"Becket's Gold. I already know."

"Excellent. You'll help me then."

There was the briefest of pauses. "Alright."

"Wonderful. I'll be arriving late tomorrow afternoon." The line went dead.

Ciara sighed, hanging up her own phone. Ian Howe was the last person she needed to deal with right now. But he was after the same thing as her, and it was easier to work with him than against him. She'd just have to find away to get rid of him after.