Night's Omen

Drew almost dropped his beer bottle when she mentioned being friends with most of the dancers, but not being into it herself.  She worked here.  She wasn't a dancer, but that didn't make her any less of an employee at a strip club, and he was actually surprised.  He'd have judged from her smiles and giggling that she was a little out of place here, and he'd been wondering why she was there in the first place.  Imagining her there on a regular basis seemed strange.

"Of course we're amazing," Aimee piped in, smirking.  She wasn't just talking about herself, since Eve and Tawny and all of the other girls were incredible (and so were the guys), but the amount of money that passed hands and the crowd suggested that they were plenty good.  "Nikki may be good behind that bar, but I bet he wouldn't be able to pull off getting tips in that cute skirt like you do.  I'd like to see him try it, though."

Fortunately, he held onto his drink as the two women talked, and took Melisande's hand in a gentle shake when she offered it.  She re-introduced herself, which actually made him feel less like a doofus for doing it himself, and he smiled at that.  That wasn't so bad.  "S' a pleasure, Melisande," he told her, being more careful with the pronunciation of her name than he was with the rest of his sentence.  If he sounded like a Southern hick, that was fine, but he wouldn't butcher her name on her. 

He smacked Josh in the ribs with his elbow when his 'friend' called him a goober to Delilah, though he grinned and tried to pretend he hadn't just heard Josh pull a 'job drop'.  Within five seconds, one of the women would be asking what they did for a living.  He pursued the job conversation on Melisande's end instead, figuring that keeping the attention off of himself would be easier.  "I guess that could be a pain, but at least your job ain't borin'.  If you don't go clubbin', then what do you do for fun?"

Everyone had hobbies. 

Poor Josh had no idea that it'd take more than a charming smile to distract her from Melisande, and that even if SHE got distracted, every other employee in the place was still going to be watching out for her.  Nikki alone could take care of anything the two humans tried to pull, not that she really thought they'd be trouble.  They seemed like decent guys, though she smelled something interesting about them.  Gunpowder? 

"So what is it that you do that you have to come here to remind yourselves that you're human?" she asked, finding the irony in them coming to a place like this for that purpose incredibly amusing.  It SHOULD remind them that they were human, since Melisande was the only one working there who wasn't a shifter or something, but they couldn't know that.  Unless they were hunters, but she somehow didn't think so.

"Oh, well," she trailed off with a shy laugh. What did she do for fun? "I like to walk in the park, watch movies at home, beat the living crap out of our bouncers at Super Smash Brothers. The usual stuff that you get to do when you work at a place like this. It doesn't really allow for much of an adult day life in my head," she said. She knew that Aimee actually had a day job, and she didn't mean any insult - but for Melisande, there was only one or the other, not both. She'd tried, and it just didn't work. She was too easy to side-track. Obviously.

Before she could ask what they did, Aimee beat her to the punch. She tipped her head, glancing at the neon-ringed clock above the bar. She scanned the floor quickly, but there were more than enough staffers on the floor to cover what was happening for the moment.

Josh wasn't trying to charm Aimee, he just had that lazy sort of smile that he used with all women. It was better than his in-your-face glare, and probably way less likely to get his ass rocked by bouncers. "We're cops," he said happily, as though that explained everything. He'd let Drew tell them they were SWAT. He liked hearing it - still. He supposed that was a sign he loved his job.

"Really?" Melisande asked. She glanced at Drew, who didn't really seem like the type. He was so... nice. And Southern. She loved his accent, actually. She thought it was incredibly cute - much more nice on the ears than the harsh tone of New York and Long Island and, God, Stanton Island. "That's pretty cool. Suddenly my job is a lot less important," she said with a laugh.

"Nah, not at all," Josh said, smiling at her. "Without places like these, the world would be a little too taboo," he offered. "It all works together." Profound, and very drunk. He ordered another beer, effectively making Drew either the DD, or solidifying their need for a cab in the future.

To Aimee, he simply said, "It's not always fun - but living in the city, I'm sure you'd know that. Some days are light, and some are... not. I'm just glad I'm not homicide. They have their hands full right now. Some fire or something. Way, way too much info. Sorry," he said with a grin. "Beer talking." He pointed affectionately at the bottle and took a long swig of it.

If he hadn't been paying attention to the rest of what she'd said, beginning with 'walk in the park' would have made him seriously think of a personals ad.  'Likes long walks on the beach...' seemed so cliched, but then she finished off with beating the crap out of the bouncers at Super Smash Brothers, and there was nothing romantic about that, just cool.  Way cool. 

"N64 or Wii?  I have a PS2, but I don't play it much anymore.  Jus' too busy," he said with a shrug, though he also smiled happily at Josh's declaration that they were cops.  He liked hearing it, too.  He'd liked telling people he was a Marine before, but being a cop got you less chances of getting reamed by the anti-war types.  "SWAT, actually, and what he said.  Ain't nothin' better than a good night out, and this place seems great for it.  Do you like your job?  Because that's really all that matters."

In the end, that was it.  If she liked it, it was important.

He was going to ignore Josh now, and just focus on Melisande.  Josh was getting pretty drunk, which meant that Drew was driving.  He hoped he'd get a good chance to mess with the guy later.  Maybe stick something in his mouth and get a picture with his phone. 

It was incredible how humans could get so 'deep' when they were drinking.  She wasn't so sure if this guy would be saying things like that if he could think clearly, but it was amusing nonetheless.  "No need to apologize, I think it's interesting.  So, SWAT?  That's a big deal.  You really think that the homicide department has it worse than you do?"  She could see it, but if you were risking your life so often, wouldn't you prefer something less dangerous?

Maybe not.  There were plenty of hunters out there, some of them good customers of hers, that seemed to like it.  Maybe after so much excitement, you just can't settle down into something more normal.  "What got you into something like that?"

Josh shrugged a little. "I was a Marine. So was he," he nodded at Drew. "We were in the sandbox for quite a while. Doesn't matter if we agree about what's going on, we were told to go, and we did, and I hope we did something right while we were there." He didn't really want to delve into the entire situation, because it wasn't a pleasant story. He was still a little shocked he'd survived, or that he'd gotten his team out alive. If that wasn't bravery, then it was something close to it.

"Anyways, I got the itch, and since I was a sniper... there you have it. I don't necessarily think they have it any better than us, but I don't know if some of them could really do what we did. I think the entire SWAT is a bunch of adrenaline junkies, anyways - myself included. So. There you have it," he said with a smile. He drank his last beer kind of quickly, and then sat back in his chair and looked lazy. It was amazing he wasn't a cat, sometimes.

"Wii. I fucking hate the 64. The controller looks like a Lego," she said, quoting Master Chief. She'd be right, too. "I had a PS2, but then the PS3 came out, so I sold it, got that, and..." she made a flittering motion with her hand. "It's lame. All the good games were for PS2. But, the Wii is... well. We have Drunk Mario Kart sometimes, so that's fun, but aside from a few of the cartoonish games, it sort of sucks, too. I guess I just get bored too easily," she concluded with a tiny shrug.

Wow, was she talking too much? She blushed a little more, but under the dim lights, it was hard to tell. She bit her lower lip, wondering if she sounded like a real - what had Josh said? Goober? Yeah, she didn't want to be a goober.

"I like my job well enough. Truth be told, I don't usually even come out to this area when I'm on break. I usually hang out in the back. The girls here are all pretty good friends, even if some of them can be a little bit princess-y at times. We all have our moments, but I'm.." she trailed off. She couldn't precisely tell him that she was the only human there in employment. She settled for something else, something that was still partially true. "I'm the baby, so I get a little bit of teasing, and mostly people watching my back. It's nice."

She paused. She realized that no, she didn't really go out into the main area on break. Was Drew really the first guy she'd ever voluntarily struck a conversation with? She furrowed her brow, and then smiled at him. He was. She felt like telling him that wouldn't mean anything, though, so she kept it to herself.

Fortunately, Drew was more than capable of ignoring Josh's end of the conversation, because the sandbox was the last thing he wanted to think about right then.  He was more interested in focusing on Melisande and plotting what he could get away with once Josh was too drunk to care.  He had a load of pens in his car, since it seemed like every pen in his vicinity somehow ended up there, so he could try fitting as many as he could in Josh's mouth.  All he needed was for the guy to pass out on the way home.

His gray eyes widened some when she cursed, then said that the 64 controller looked like a Lego, not sure which he thought was funnier.  He came from the South, and yes, it's the 21st century, but he was still brought up on the whole 'treat a woman like a lady' thing.  He didn't always follow it with his one-night stands, but he tried.  He didn't like breaking hearts, and he didn't like fighting with women, but it still caught him off-guard when one dropped the F-bomb like that.  Especially girls like Melisande, who were so sweet.  He didn't bat an eye if a prostitute or crack-whore did it.  "I dunno, I'm satisfied with my PS2.  RE4's gotta be the best lookin' game on the system, and it's gotta hell of a story.  Gotta confess, I have a thang for shootin' up on the zombies in those games."

Honestly, she had no worries about sounding like a goober.  Her talking as much as she was just served to make HIM feel like less of a goober, since he wasn't sitting there not knowing what to say.  Conversation made things easier.  "Well, I guess it's jus' my lucky night then, ain't it?  S'long as I don't get my ass kicked by one of your friends," he pointed out, smiling happily. 

Wow, the more that man talked, the more Aimee wanted to sit and stare at him.  It was like another language for a girl who hadn't ever heard deep south before, and she couldn't get over it.  She couldn't decide if it sounded great or like something off of NASCAR.  Maybe a little of both.

"Marines?  Wow, I hate to say it, but I wouldn't have pegged you two for that.  I always thought that Marines were bigger and stupider, no offense," she told him, and she actually blushed under the dim lighting and dipped her face down slightly.  She really DIDN'T want to offend them, but she was being honest.  Hearing that they'd both been Marines really WAS surprising.  She would have asked more, simply because she thought it was interesting, but he moved on, so she let it go.  It didn't sound like a conversation for a fun night out, though she didn't really think that she'd be running into these two again anytime soon.

Actually, she'd have pegged Josh for a cat as well if she couldn't smell the fact that he was human, and if he were hers, she'd have offered.  Leopard would have suited him.  As it was, she just laughed, shaking her head a little.  "I'd believe it.  That job just sounds like you'd have to be an adrenaline junkie to enjoy it.  It's good to hear that we're all in such capable hands," she told him teasingly.

Josh smiled a little more genuinely at Aimee when she said the last bit, no matter how much of a tease she meant it. "We do what we can," he said happily. Now there was a guy who loved his job. Seriously. "And I don't take offense to it, actually. I'd rather people totally underestimate me. It makes it that much better for me," he said, eyes half-lidded. If Joshua had known her thoughts, he might have bolted - good thing he couldn't read minds.

He shimmied up a little in his chair, trying to stay attentive to what was going on, but let's face it - he was drunk. He rested an elbow on the bar and blinked a few times, bright eyes trying to get a good feel for his surroundings. "Sorry, Delilah," he said sheepishly. "I get tired when I drink. I think it's probably a good thing. Stops me from doing too terribly much in the way of stupid things." He eyed Drew. Not to interrupt his game, but get her number already!

"Ooh, I don't like zombie stuff. I tried to play RE1 and it scared me so bad I gave it to one of the girls here, who took it home and let her little brother annihilate it. It's bad, because they've got such cool stuff, but yeah.. I don't like scary stuff so much. I'll take the squishy cartoonish crap all day long."

She glanced back up to the clock on the wall, and then back to Drew. "Your friend looks ready to pass out. Here, let me do this." She reached over the bar, brushing against him as she turned, and grabbed a pen from behind the counter. She snatched a matchbook, of all things, and quickly wrote down her number. "Give me a call in a few hours. I have to get back to work, but after I get out, I'm free. We can just hang out," she said. She meant hang out, too, not have wild sex and then never talk again. Mel wasn't really like that.

She cast a sidelong glance at Aimee, wondering if she was being too forward, but she handed him the matchbook anyways. "It was really nice to meet you. I don't think I've... wow, no, I've never given my number out to anyone here before. It's sort of against the rules for me, but... " she trailed off and just shrugged in her cute little way.

Yep, Josh was going to pass out.  That'd make for awesome pictures.

Despite that, Drew wasn't in enough of a hurry.  He actually LIKED this girl, and he gave Josh a look that pretty plainly said 'shut it!' right back.  He didn't need to be rushed, considering his almost-botching in the early game.  Fortunately for Josh, Melisande noticed, and then?

She gave him her number.  HALLELUJAH, CHRISTMAS CAME EARLY!

He grinned, sticking the matchbook in his front pocket so he'd be less likely to lose it, and nodded.  "Will do, I promise, and we'll avoid the scary stuff," he promised, winking and reaching to grab Josh by the arm.  "I'm glad to be your exception, believe me.  Lemme get his sorry ass home, and I'll call you later."

Oh, and he totally would.  "Come on, man, before you pass out.  You can sleep in the car," he told his friend, and again, he hoped the guy did.

She couldn't fault Josh's logic regarding being underestimated, something that she appreciated for herself, as well.  The last time she'd gotten mugged coming out of work, the same had worked in her favor.  He looked like he was going to fall asleep on the bar, though, and that was against the rules.  Nikki would be getting him out of there if he did.

"Stops you from doing stupid things, but it must be less fun," she pointed out, and smirked wickedly once more.  She wanted to ask if he fell asleep immediately after sex as well, but she kept that one to herself.  No sense in messing up Melisande's 'game'.  "You go home and sleep, I have to get back on stage in a few.  It was nice talking to you, Josh," she told him, and she meant it.

Once they were gone, she could congratulate Melisande on being so forward.  That was excellent! 

He smiled a little, giving Drew a Look when he pulled him up and out of the chair. "A pleasure, Delilah. Really." He gave her that impish sort of grin, one that was hard to decode - flirtatious, drunk, charming, something of a mix, really. He allowed himself to be led by Drew out of the bar, but only because he couldn't feel his feet.

"Okay," she said, almost breathless. "I'll be looking forward to it." She smiled - she meant it, too. She would. She gave his arm a small squeeze, and then turned to Aimee as soon as they'd left eyesight and earshot.

"Oh my God. I can't believe I just did that!" she squealed. "What did I do? Oh, wow, what if he thinks I'm a total loser?" She started to stress immediately - and thusly the reason Melisande was never in relationships.

"Night, Josh!  Bye, Drew!  It was nice talking to you!" Aimee called out happily, finding the redhead helping his friend out the door to be rather funny.  She liked those guys, from what she'd seen.

Drew knew from experience that if Josh was letting himself be led around, it was because he was THAT drunk.  Wonderful, as though him nearly falling asleep at the bar hadn't been clue enough.  At least Drew could be absolutely certain about this one. 

"Nex' time, the leas' you can do is wait on me before gettin' trashed," he complained.  He hadn't gotten to nearly as much alcohol as he'd wanted to over the course of the evening.  Once he got to his car and hit the little button on his keys to unlock the doors, he grabbed the passenger side door for Josh.  "Your chariot, princess."

Yep, being the most sober meant he had the most brain cells to rub together.  That was a good thing, even if he didn't look like he was using them, per se.

Aimee waited, knowing that as soon as they couldn't hear her anymore, Melisande was going to freak out.

One....two......three!

"I really don't think he thinks you're a loser.  Actually, I think he wanted to hit his head on the bar a few times, given his expressions right after his mouth opened.  You made him nervous, sweetie, I'm so proud of you," She teased, laughing. 

If this little thing actually turned into a relationship, she wished that poor guy luck in dealing with Melisande stressing these things.  If she was already stressing about giving out her number, that didn't say good things about what was coming.  "Relax.  He'll call, and you'll see that it's nothing to worry over.  You meant it when you said you'd be looking forward to it, right?"

Joshua waved goodbye and allowed himself to be shoveled out of the doors and into the car. He climbed in and tightened down his seatbelt, and then stared at Drew. "It was either get really drunk, or try to pick up on your girl. I picked the more noble of two paths, so no fucked up doll photos. Got it?" He narrowed his blue eyes at Drew.

Melisande shook her head a little. "I don't think I made him nervous," she protested. She wasn't trying to be coy, either; really, Melisande didn't expect to have that sort of effect on people. She was used to being the only human in a room full of extremely exotic women, and it might have played a little with her self-esteem, at least a tiny, small, minuscule amount.

She reached out to shove Aimee a little. "Of course I meant that I was looking forward to it. Did you see how cute he was? Oh, what if he doesn't call? Then I'll look stupid!" She put her head down in the bar and groaned. "Now I'm going to be nervous all night. Nikki, can you fix me a drink really fast before I go back on shift?" she called to the bartender. She held her fingers up, index and thumb only a small portion from eachother. "Just a little bit of alcohol, though, okay?"

At least she was actively trying to loosen up, some.

Drew's laugh couldn't be described as anything other than evil, or at least trouble.  The doll photos were SO easy to get, and yet they inspired such a strong reaction.  It cracked him up.  At least he was only jumpy about REAL dogs, and the bigger ones.  Not chihuahuas or anything easy to get into the station.

It just sucked because at least half of New York seemed to have a dog.  A big one.

"I got it, I got it.  Thanks for not tryin' to swipe her before I even had a chance," he returned, leaving it alone.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!  If his foot would have been any further in his mouth, he'd have needed the Heimlich!" Aimee snorted, not at all interested in the 'I'm not pretty enough' thing.  Just because Melisande hung out with shifters and vampires didn't mean she wasn't attractive. 

At least she was serious about being interested in the guy.  Really, Aimee didn't think Melisande looked in the mirror often enough.  The guy was cute, but Melisande was HOT.  "Listen, you're hot, and you're sweet.  He'll call, and if he does anything to hurt you, I'll chew his arm off.  Got it?" she asked, smiling sweetly.  Yeah, you didn't mess with Melisande anywhere that the staff at All Hallows could find out, especially if you were only a human.

Melisande smiled warmly when Aimee threatened to chew his arm off. It would only be endearing to her, of all people, when one of her less-than-human friends offered to do something like that when it came to having her heart broken. "What would I do without you?"

Tawny's song had ended, and she came from the back room with a fresh set of 'real' clothing on, pausing to lean lazily on the back of Melisande's chair and give her the lightest of hugs from behind. "Eden's looking for you," she said, nodding to Aimee. "I tried to stall him, but he wants you up after Eve."

"Hey!" Mel squealed, leaning in to hug Tawny. Honestly, how could Melisande not feel overshadowed when she had women so beautiful all over the place? She supposed that she should feel special more than anything. Eden had hired her on the spot after seeing her demonstrate her strange reminiscence of the people who dwelled within the club, and firmly said that she would be his only human employee. Speaking of which, her break was over five minutes ago.

"Ooh, I guess that's my cue. I need to go get the rowdy bunch at the stage some shots, I think. They look like they tip better when they're drunk. I'll definitely let you know how it goes, Aim," she said. She slid off of her stool and took off towards the back to grab her tray and notepad for drink orders.

"Know how it goes? Ooooh, did she meet someone?" Tawny gasped.

"You would worry yourself into a stroke, that's what," Aimee responded easily, smiling happily at Melisande's much better attitude. 

Even as Tawny's song was ending, Aimee was finishing up her drink and ready to head into the back, assuming she was up for her next set, but Tawny beat her to it.  That was fine, since the fun was over, anyway.  Tawny seemed thrilled at the idea of some new gossip, however, and Aimee wasn't going to deny the other girls news this good.  "You better!" she called after Melisande, actually looking forward to hearing all about it.  Good for Melisande.

"Yes, she had a cute redhead totally tripping over himself trying to talk to her, and she played it wonderfully," she explained proudly, slipping off of her stool as she did.  "She even gave him her number!"

Tawny clapped her hands to her mouth and made a face. "Wha-a-a-a-at?" she exclaimed, her voice doing that high-pitched thing at the end that showed how surprised she actually was. Her topaz eyes twinkled in the strange lights of the club, and she put a hand on her hip while the other was still on her face, fingers splayed across her cheek as she smiled fondly.

"He'd better call her, or I'll slither into his apartment and strangle him myself," she said, though she still looked mighty amused. She meant it, though. She'd never seen Melisande give her number to anyone. In fact, she'd never seen Melisande more than take drink orders and flirt a little with the guys at the club. It was like her personal rule or something.