DISCLAIMER: THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF THE HOLLOWS AND ALL CHARACTERS THEREIN ARE OWNED BY THE LOVELY KIM HARRISON.

~ The Dressing Room ~

CHAPTER 5

Al shrugged. "You didn't have to try it on. All you have to do is touch the affected item in order for the curse to take hold. With this being our usual Saturday the odds of that were quite good."

"So it was someone who knew about our Saturdays, then," I concluded.

"Mmmm," Al shrugged again and nodded in agreement. Continuing his speculation, he said, "Ordinarily, my paranoid little demon self would have guessed it was Minias' work."

"Because he's still pissed at you for siccing Newt on him, huh?" I asked. "Hell hath no fury like… a demon scorned," I joked, taking another mouthful of coffee.

Al chuckled. "Indeed."

"But Minias is dead, right?" I asked, and sank back further in the chair, the leather squeaking a bit as my body moved to a more comfortable position. I had taken my boots off and bent my knee to bring one foot up to rest on the cushion of the chair.

"So it would seem, yes," he replied.

"What about Newt?" I speculated aloud. I bent forward to put the saucer on the table and held the black cup firmly between my hands and nestled back into the chair, wiggling my body to face Al.

"I don't know," he answered, watching me get comfortable in the chair. "It's definitely her style, yes. But she wouldn't have sent Gordian Nathaniel Pierce on an errand only to risk him interrupting the spell," he reasoned. But then something in his expression changed. Frowning, he turned his head and stared at the fire burning in the hearth as his eyes went distant. "Or maybe she would," he suggested, his voice soft and uneasy.

Leaning forward to try to make eye contact with him I asked, "Newt would intentionally destroy her own curse?"

His eyes met mine and without hesitation he answered, "If it served her purpose, then absolutely. Toying with me is one of her favorite pastimes."

I put my cup down on the table and leaned back into the chair again. Bringing both feet up onto the cushions, I rested my head against the back of the chair. I was feeling a bit tired and wondered if I should make us some more coffee. "So how would that work? Why would she call back the curse before it did what it was supposed to do?" I asked, running my hand along one of the seams of the chair.

Al sat straighter in his chair, cup and saucer still in hand, and his entire demeanor changed. Teacher Al had emerged to give me an education. "The textbook definition of an enrapture curse is a spell that compels two people… ," he hesitated and made a slight correction, "…well, two or more people…" he grinned and continued, as I rolled my eyes, "… to consummate their relationship – the actual consummation being the end goal."

Our relationship is 'student' and 'teacher', Al. I think that's about all the consummation I'm going to be doing.

Leave it to me to ask the obvious. "Consummate? As in 'sex'?"

With a twinkle in his eye and a smile still on his face he answered in the affirmative. "Yes, itchy witch. Sex. You know, speed up the timeline, as it were. Skip the romance. Skip the foreplay. Go directly to the good stuff."

Before I could object, he continued, "Theoretically, though, the curse could be used to simply bring a couple together. Sort of, moving things along without the fun of the whole… consummation thing…" Wait, did he say "couple"?

"But we're already together, Al. Every Saturday," I said, cocking my head to the side and wearing my best sarcastic smile. "How much more 'together' could Newt want us to be?"

Al groaned and leaned forward, placing his cup on the table. "Come now, Rachel. Don't play coy. It's unbecoming. You're not that obtuse."

My smile vanished as quickly as it had come. Looking at the fireplace, I waved my hand in frustration and muttered, "Yeah, yeah. The whole demon baby thing. Great."

The creak of stiff leather brought my attention back to Al and I watched as he crossed his left leg over his right and perched his elbow on the arm of his chair. Shifting his posture, he leaned in my direction to bring his body closer to mine, then settled his chin to rest atop a gloveless hand and his voice became as velvety as his frock. "Rachel, if that's what I wanted from you I would have had you a long time ago. If what we just experienced while under the influence of that curse is any indication, sex with you will be positively unbelievable," he declared, his accent precise and his eyes now devoid of anything but pure, raw lust.

Will be? Ummm…

"But relax," he said. "I'm not exactly 'father' material," Al added with a smirk.

I licked my lips, not knowing quite what to say. So I opted for fidgeting a bit and playing with my hair. I reached up to run my fingers through a strand before tucking it behind my ear.

Luckily, Al continued the conversation. "Truth be told, we are quite fortunate the little runt popped in when he did."

"And why's that?" I asked.

Al sat up in his chair and uncrossed his long legs to stretch them a bit. "It's dangerous enough for demons to have sex with each other under normal circumstances. One certainly would not want to attempt it while under the influence of a curse as potent as that one."

My eyes widened in shock, I blushed three shades of red. "Are you telling me, Al, that we would have died having sex?"

Al's devilish smile made me squirm in my seat and I lowered my head to stare at a spot on the floor.

"Don't get me wrong, Rachel," he said, raising a gloved hand to stroke the side of my face. His fingers danced along my jawline and came to rest under my chin as he raised my head level with his. "I can think of no better way to die than by being reduced to ash while between your thighs," he confessed, his red eyes never leaving mine and seeming to stare directly into my soul. "But I'm not ready to meet Death's embrace even for you, my beautiful, little witch."

I opened my mouth, not knowing what the hell to say in response. Al's eyes were focused on my lips. "It was delicious," he whispered, letting his hand fall from my chin.

"The near-death, curse-induced, pseudo-sex?" I asked in wonder.

Al chuckled. "That too, itchy witch. But I was referring to the coffee."

My mouth formed an 'o' before I was able to vocalize it. "Oh," I said. "Thank you," I smiled, redness creeping into my cheeks once again. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Right!" he exclaimed, standing to look down at me seated in the other chair. He extended his hand to help me up. "Shall we do the dishes, then?" he asked as I took his hand and came to my feet.

We stood facing each other. Al is quite a tall demon and my face came up to about the level of his chest. It always felt good to stand this close to him. The power rolling off him was palpable and truth be told it felt really good. Distracting. But good. I blinked a few times to clear my head and then looked up at him. Taking a deep breath I said, "Yeah, let's do that."

With a nod, Al instructed, "Gather the dishes and I'll jump you to the kitchen. I'm just going to put another log or two on the fire."

Without another thought I found myself in Al's kitchen. It was a magnificent space - huge and modern, with tons of cabinets and copper racks of spelling and cooking equipment suspended above almost every inch of counter space. There were several glowing orbs placed strategically throughout the room, providing enough light for me to find the sink. I found a few candle holders in one of the cabinets above the sink and opened a draw below where Al kept his non-ritual candles. Setting the candles in the holders, I thought, "consimilus califacio," and the wicks sprung to life with flame. I took a moment to enjoy the warm glow of the flickering candlelight. I felt my body and soul relax and I reached to turn on the faucet and fill the sink with warm water, squirting a little soap into the mix from the small bottle Al kept alongside the sink.

I placed the coffee cups and saucers in the sink and warm water playfully splashed off the surfaces of the porcelain. The coffee press was still on the counter. I carefully removed the lid and tapped the grounds into a bowl Al had set aside for Treble, using the chopstick to coax out the grains that were determined to stick to the bottom of the press - the last remaining holdouts in a hopeless battle with the pointy implement. Satisfied I had reserved everything I could for Al's gargoyle, I submerged the carafe into the sudsy water that now filled up half the sink.

When I turned off the water I was hit with a deafening silence. Where was Al? How the hell long did it take to throw a few logs on the fire? And then I remembered I had brought Ivy's portable music player with me, tucked into the front pocket of my jeans. I looked around and found a towel to dry my hands and then reached into my pocket to pull out the player and earphones. I tossed my head back to get my hair out of my face and gently tapped the earbuds into my ears before hitting the 'play' button.

I wasn't surprised to hear Takata's voice. Ivy and I both loved his music, even before we learned he was my biological father. The song that was playing had a heavy, sensual bass and lyrics that always brought me to my knees with their beautiful simplicity.

I must have been singing along without realizing it because I suddenly heard Al's voice call my name. "Rachel?" Oh, crap…

I reached up to pry the buds out of my ears.

Al's expression was almost soft and tender. "Rachel, you have a beautiful voice," he said with an affection I rarely heard him from him. Ohhh.

Feeling self-conscious, I gave a short, nervous laugh and said, "Woops. Sorry. It's Ivy's," I said, digging the player out of my pocket and hitting the 'stop' button so I could pay attention to what Al was saying. I added, "It was just a bit too quite in here."

With a spring in his step, Al glided over to me and proclaimed, "Oooooo! Pretty!" His hand reached out to grab the music player from me. "Let's see what else she has loaded onto that thing. That little vamp has fabulous taste in music. You could learn a thing or two from her, Rachel," he said, completely enthralled with scrolling through Ivy's playlist.

I turned back to the sink to finish the dishes before the water got cold. "Are you gonna help me dry?" I asked.

Al looked at me wearing a grin from ear to ear. "I am! Give me your hands, Rachel."

With a bit of caution, I slowly held them out to him and watched in amusement as he used the soft dishcloth to dry my dripping, soapy hands.

"Al…?"

"Mmmm… perfect," he mused, throwing the towel to the side and looking up at me after making his musical selection. "I just love Julie London. Can you rumba, Rachel? Let's dance!" he beamed.

He shoved one earbud into my ear, put the other in his, and hit the button to start the music, shoving Ivy's player into the breast pocket of his coat.

The music began and I felt myself panic. Yep, it's a rumba, alright. Shit… I hope I remember the box step…

Al stood with an impatient look on his face, his left arm bent slightly and his hand ready to fold itself into mine. His right arm was outstretched, ready to come to rest atop my left shoulder to hold a proper dance frame.

The music was quickly nearing the end of the introductory measures and without a thought I raised my arms and brought my frame up to meet Al's. Tucking my damp hand into his, I rested my other hand on his shoulder and we started to move.

Hmmm… so I wasn't quite happy with the first draft of this chapter. I revised the beginning and hopefully tightened up some of the dialogue to get Al back into character.. or more into character.. or… something. I also added the scene at the end in the kitchen and now hopefully have these two back on track to head to the… ahem.. bedroom, perhaps? 0:-)