Sitting in one of the armchairs, John contemplated how the mission was becoming more impossible by the bloody second. As if he didn't have enough to think about, he now had Zed grabbing him (metaphorically) by the balls every time he caught sight of her. He thought she could have proved useful locating Papa Midnite's magical "toys", and she could. But only if they actually reached the party, and as he traced the lines of her body in that goddamn dress, the idea was sounding less and less appealing. He knew the game she was starting to play and it was just his luck that he'd already disqualified himself. He didn't mix business and pleasure, but he was really starting to want to.

"Constantine?" Zed had stopped fiddling with her hair in the mantelpiece mirror for the moment and was now looking over her shoulder, questioningly, at him.
Shit, had he been staring?
Get a hold of yourself man, she's off limits. You're John fucking Constantine. Not some bloody fuck-hungry teenager.

"Yes love, sorry, I was thinking that maybe while we're at the party, you should stick close to me. Wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of you now, would we?" It was partly true. He didn't want anyone taking advantage of her. Plus the idea of coming across her dealing with the unwanted attentions of some underworld bottom feeder was enough to make him want to punch a wall.

"You sure you're not just trying to keep me all to yourself?" smirking in the mirror at him, she applied a second coat of lipstick and with no hint of shame adjusted her cleavage, still keeping eye contact. John smiled and not unwillingly picked up the gauntlet she was clearly throwing down. Business and pleasure could go to hell. She may think she could beat him at this but if there was one thing John Constantine was good at, it was bringing women to their knees and making them enjoy being there.

He turned around and started making himself a whiskey because if there was ever a night for Dutch courage it was tonight. One way or another, this was going to one hell of a night.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter anyway. What kind of man would I be if I left you defenceless, now?" said Constantine, his back to her. He took a swig, closed his eyes and happily set himself to his task. Coming up behind her in the mirror, he set his glass down on the mantelpiece in front of her. He made sure to brush past the top of her arm and he couldn't help but smirk at the goose bumps that rose in response. Good to know he was getting a reaction from her body already.

"Because as flattering as this dress is" He ran his hand down her waist, admiring the material, "it's not exactly suited to demon fighting now is it? So I guess you're going to have to stick close to me" he inched closer, her ass barely brushing against his crotch. Suddenly she couldn't meet his gaze.

"…for safety of course" he moved away, abruptly breaking the spell he'd created. Not an actual spell of course. But he was pretty sure he'd sent her pulse racing, if nothing else. He could see her cheeks were flushed, and through her dress he could see her pressing her thighs together, seeking some kind of relief from the tension he'd created in her. She turned and met his gaze.

"So I guess how well tonight goes depends on you then?" she said, her tone thoughtful.

"What do you mean, love?"

"Well, you need me to help you get to this secret stash, or whatever. So you need me, don't you?" Constantine didn't like where this was going. She was walking towards him now, treating him to the sight of her hips swaying, thigh flashing and breasts moving to the rhythm of her walk.

She looked down at his haphazardly tucked in shirt and reached for the front which had somehow avoided being tucked into his waistband. Keeping his gaze, she slowly slid her hand down the front of his pants, tucking it in for him.

"So you'd best be very nice to me tonight or I might decide not to help you. Now I know, being the clever guy that you are, you'll be more than capable of keeping a girl happy for one night, right?"

His entire world suddenly became completely centred round the fact that her fingers were centimetres away from touching his cock and she bloody well knew it. She made to move her hand lower and felt it twitch against her fingertips. Smiling, she slid her hand out.

"That's much better. I made the effort, you could at least look presentable John"
They were still stood toe to toe. He could practically count her eyelashes. She was the first to turn away, her face smug with satisfaction of clearly winning this round. She walked out to the back of the room to pick up her coat without looking back.

John took advantage of her momentary absence. He rushed to the far side of the bookcase, pressed his thumb against one of the more unnatural looking knots in carved wood and out popped a draw, seemingly from nowhere. Grabbing what he needed, he quickly replaced the draw, finished his drink and went to grab his coat. She thought she could beat him in this, but she forgot he had the powers of heaven and hell on his side. Maybe it was a bit extreme, but John Constantine was extreme and John Constantine always played to win.