A delay in these, post-partum depression be a bitch.

For some reason, I am incapable of not putting angst into my one-shots. This one is more plot than porn, unfortunately.

The dim lights and low music didn't improve his dark mood; neither did the scantily dressed women strutting between tables, and spinning on the poles in the middle of the room. In every possibility he imagined, the trail of clues ending at a strip club was not one of them. The only positive he could note was that at least it wasn't a Moroi club.

Dimitri kept his coat on, his head down as he wandered the dark room, searching the faces of each dancer looking for the brown eyes he remembered so well. It wasn't until he reached the bar that he heard her voice—a sound he could never forget.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, dressed in a black vest and a thick layer of eyeliner.

Dimitri stared at the woman's back, her brown curls pinned away from her face. "I'm here to see her." Her shoulders tensed, the muscles of her back tightening, coiled. It reminded Dimitri of a snake preparing to pounce—or in this case, escape.

The bartender nodded, a smirk on his face that made Dimitri clench his fists. "Candy? Good choice." He tapped the bartop before Candy and pointed over her shoulder as if she didn't already know where Dimitri stood. "You have a customer."

Slowly, cautiously, she turned until their eyes met.

"Hello, Roza," Dimitri whispered. The club was too loud for the humans to hear, but Rose could. Her eyes flashed with anger.

"Are there any private rooms open?" Rose asked the bartender but didn't move her eyes from Dimitri. After a confirmation, she rolled her shoulders and nodded to the hallway obscured by the bar, "Follow me."

Dimitri did as asked, his lips pressed tightly together and his fists clenched. Rose was covered more than the dancers, but it wasn't by much. Hungry eyes constantly on her made his blood boil. He kept his anger in, any complaint he made would only start another fight.

"Why are you here?" Rose snapped as soon as they were in a private room. It was as dimly lit as the main room, with a single plush chair in the middle and mirrors on all the walls.

"Candy?" Dimitri started, exploring the room as if it held any interest, "It's an interesting name."

"Don't start," she snarled. Any hope she might be happy to see him diminished by the second. "Why are you here, Dimitri?"

He pivoted on his heel, facing Rose. "I wanted to see you," he admitted, lowering his mask to show his feelings, "I've missed you."

Rose laughed, crossing her arms indifferently, "I thought you couldn't feel anything? That's what you told me, right? All your emotions are cut off—just your loyalty to Lissa remains."

"Roza—"

"You shouldn't be here." Rose's expression was dark, eyes clouded with pain.

He shouldn't be surprised—those were his words. The same words he said to her before she left Court after they cleared her name; despite not being the woman to murder the Queen, the damage was done. Lissa ascended to the throne, but even she couldn't fix Rose's reputation among the Moroi. With few options available, Rose left; their last encounter was her asking him to go with her.

Dimitri regretted his decision to stay.

"You shouldn't be here," he countered, stepping forward only for her to step back.

"I'm working."

"You're better than this!"

Rose laughed again, pushing her hair over her shoulder, "You really think I'm working here because I want to? I'm doing a favour for Abe."

Dimitri stilled, head cocked in confusion. "Zmey?"

"Someone here is selling humans to…" she trailed off, then clamped her mouth shut with a glare aimed at Dimitri. "This is none of your business. Just get the fuc—"

"Candy?" a woman called softly as the door eased open.

Panic bloomed on Rose's face. She shoved Dimtiri's chest, knocking him off balance and into the chair; Dimitri had no time to question what she was doing before she climbed onto his lap, and pressed her lips to his.

"Oh."

The fleeting moment of joy having Rose kiss him again was quickly broken by her pulling back with a scowl before she twisted to face the woman. "I'm busy."

The woman nodded, a thick eyebrow raised with curiosity, "I heard yelling." Her eyes moved to where Dimitri's hands grasped Rose's exposed waist, "I'll leave you to it." Despite her words, the woman remained at the door; her expression was expectant. She didn't believe Rose.

Rose focused on Dimitri again and continued the kiss, pressing her body against Dimitri's and slipping her tongue past his lips. The passion once lost returned in full force—a spark started a fire. Hands moved, caressing bare skin and sliding under leather; lips never separated for longer than a moment to breathe.

It was enough of a show for the door to close, but the sound was lost on the two that were too far gone in passion; though their affections lacked the love it had before. Feelings remained between them, muddled and jaded, yet there was still the craving for the other's touch. Dimitri greedily took what Rose gave, he missed the feel of her; when his emotions returned so did his desire for her. Too late to regain what they had—what she offered he was willing to take.

Rose straddled his lap, pulling back to stare down at him; her cheeks were flushed but her eyes were hard. "This doesn't mean anything," she declared.

Dimitri's shirt was ripped open, buttons falling to the ground. Rose reclaimed Dimitri's lips as they both worked the layers of clothes off Dimitri; his pants were barely past his knees before Rose pulled his cock through the slit in his underwear. It was rushed and messy, her hand dragging over the hardened flesh under the dim lights, almost in time with the beat of the music.

Staring into her eyes, Dimitri could almost forget they were in a private room of a strip club.

He could almost forget Rose had left everything behind because he wasn't strong enough to give her what she wanted.

He could almost forget she said it meant nothing.

To him it was everything.

Rose didn't bother to remove the poor imitation of a school skirt she wore; it barely covered her ass, much less anything else. The red plaid material matched her bra and the bow in her hair, but her underwear was black; Dimitri caught a glimpse when Rose lifted the skirt to pull the crotch of her underwear to the side.

"One last ride," Rose whispered as she lowered herself onto him. Dimitri's fingers dug into her hips as he entered Rose, sliding in deep until she was fully seated. Her eyes were still hard—detached—when she spoke again, "Make it a good one, comrade."