Rodney calls her the next day. It's really refreshing to not be on the wrong end of some 'three day' rule.

It would just have been nice if the party he had invited her to hadn't also invited Dick.

Whatever, she's not even going to look at him. Ice him out, that son of a bitch.

Rodney has got his hand on her lower back, keeping her close, his fingertips slipped into her dress, warm, comfortable and safe.

She does a terrible job icing Dick out. The icy glare she sends him, he locks and melts it into something smoldering.

Rodney's mouth is soft against hers, tentative, unsure and sweet.

It's nothing at all like the way she wants it. There's something in it, sweet and innocent, a pure shaking potential, and she knows that she has to cut him loose because when she closes her eyes he easily shifts into a completely different blond.

She puts her hands softly against his chest and he comes away with ease.

"Everything alright?" His voice is low and private, kept easily away from the throbbing party.

"No." She tells him softly, she takes a deep breath and hopes to God that this isn't going to become a scene, "I like you," his smile falters because the unsaid but it pretty fucking loud, "as a friend... I'm sorry."

He pulls away from her with a nod, "Can you get yourself home?" Is all he asks and when she nods he slips into the party.

She catches Dick's eye and goes upstairs.

Finding an empty bedroom she leaves the door partly open and waits.

She doesn't end up waiting very long, the door closes, locking out the music and turning it into a low, rhythmic thumping.

Dick is leaning against the door.

"I don't do repeats." He tells her, but pushes away from the door anyway, moving to the bed, to her.

"Don't talk." She tells him firmly and he sits down on the bed shocked, "I know all about you Casablancas, but I swear to God if you say another word..." Her voice is dark and trails off into an imaginary promise of violence.

Dick nods and kisses her.

Hard and hot. It has none of the shaking, nervous, insecure feelings in it. Rodney had wanted to fall in love with her, she could feel it in his touch, in the way his kiss tried to fill her up with a potential forever.

Dick's kisses are urgent, hard, and fill her with a desire for instant gratification. He didn't want a forever with her. He didn't even want a 'later that night' with her.

She wonders what her kisses feel like to him, other than a little angry. She's still pissed at him for throwing her out in the morning.

She slips her hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens his mouth to say something, but the glare she gives him kills whatever he had wanted to say.

She rips a condom off a strip and tosses his wallet away.

She slips into his lap and with no pretense fills herself with him, pulled out of his pants; her underwear pushed aside, held open by his hand.

It's a silent affair. Just panting and low moaning and she comes first, hard; his fingers grabbing desperately for her.

He calls out her name, a huffing, uneven, broken syllable.

She slaps him so hard her hand burns and he shakes it off quickly with a smirk because it may or may not have gotten her hot again.

He moves them so she's on the bed beneath him. He's looking down at her, face red, eyes dark and, if possible, he might be harder than before.

She will keep that in mind... Not that she'll ever need that information; she is not going to have sex with him again.

This is the last time.

He pushes her off the edge and is working at following her when her name is a moan in his mouth, unchecked, and he looks at her expectantly so she slaps him again.

He finishes hard and collapses beside her on the bed.

She straightens her dress and hair and makes to leave.

"Where are you going?" He asks tiredly from the bed. He sounds disappointed, like he wants her to stay with him this time.

"Why?"

"I thought we could leave to-"

He wants her to stay. Good. She leaves him alone in that bedroom and on the cab ride home she hopes he feels cheap.