May 12 00:59:04 106 PA
From Chronicles
The club is a liberal mix of modern and classic styles with a dark, warm lean to the hardwood and metal decor, dressed up with velvet and leather. Set up about the stage with attached DJ station and dance floor at the center, the entrance is set to one end of this, the bar to the other. The entrance itself is tightly controlled. There are always two well dressed people at the front, a bouncer to check each person coming in and another watching the drum and closet lockers that hold all patron weapons.
A broad , semi circular stage extends from the center of the widest wall, rising two feet, with lights rimming the edge and hidden in scaffolds high above. A rich red velvet curtain lies ready to sweep about and veil the stage itself from view. The DJ booth is set up right next to the stage, set into the same wall. With a thick window and biometric locks on the two side doors, one to the stage and the other to a set of stairs down, the equipment within is secure. Within a C shaped desk and racks hold the sound equipment, all linked into a central computer. All done up in sleek, dark cases, mixing well with the warm, wood paneling of the booth's exterior.
A dance floor is central to the club, laid out in a broad circle before the stage. Laid out in a semi circle opposite the stage side of the dance floor are a series of round tables, with smaller two person sized ones at the edge, with larger four person tables in the next row and a few grand six to eight person tables on the outer edge. All staggered to make for the best view for all to the dance floor and stage. To one side of this central focus is the bar, a broad affair taking up much of the shorter wall in width. The bar itself is a mix of modern and classic, with the simple, elegant hardwood design of the bar itself mixing with the display of alcohol behind it, opaque plastic shelves lit from within to highlight the wide selection of common and uncommon liquors for sale. The barstools themselves, lined up in a neat row, mix dark metallic stems with comfy red leather seats.
The end of another packed night at the club, and Aimee is just done settling down the staff, letting the last of them out of the building. She moves to the table where she and Desmond tend to sit in the quiet times here, putting down a bottle of beer for herself, and some water for the feline. "Mon chat,..." She calls, settling herself into a chair, resting her elbows on the table as she sips her bottle.
Desmond looks up from the log book for the evening's spots of trouble and issues as he's called, head turned towards Aimee for a moment before he lays the book aside to approach the table. "My Aimee," he rumbles as he nears, passing behind her before he might settle, an unarmored hand drawing lightly along her back before he settles himself in the chair nearest her.
She looks up at him as his hand touches her back lightly, a tiny shiver revealing to him that she is not indifferent to his touch. "Mon chat, I wondered if you wanted to sing before we go home?" She pushes some music across to him, giving him a questioning look. "Perhaps a surprise for our Kesslan when he comes home?"
Used to the requests to sing, Desmond nods his head once to the request. "I can attempt it." How he often agrees to the practices, ever with that modest edge, despite the improvements he's made. His eyes dip as he draws the music sheet to himself, intently studying the words present. As before he takes it seriously, a thoughtful frown risen as he takes in the words quickly.
She rises, moving to the controls for the music system, setting up a familiar tune for him. She turns, giving him a look of invitation as she moves towards him. She rests her hands at his waist, tilting her head back to look up at him. Her dress swirls around her legs as she moves, settling as she stands in front of him, and she waits for the queue for the duet singing.
Desmond rises before the invitation comes, but meets it nonetheless as he approaches. His ears perk and swivel as the music starts, taking in the familiar start to things. And as he nears her, an arm extends, curling with easy familiarity about her waist as he stands near to her, his eyes drawn down to gaze into her own.
Aimee's green eyes gaze back as she sings, as if she means it, to him, "I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..." Her eyes tease him as she sings, reminding him of the days when she was with someone else, and he waited. Her hands slide up to rest on his shoulders, leaning into him a little.
"And if we go someplace to dance I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me," Desmond rumbles back, the deep roll of his voice smoother in integrating that singsong quality. His other hand joins the first, both gliding down to rest on her hips, a soft firmness used to guide her in a few moments of mock dance step, brushing the limits of his untrained ability to do so.
Aimee's mouth widens into a smile as she follows the dance step, stepping back to add a small embellish. "Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two.." She sings to the feline at her side as she twirls, before returning to his arms, the dress adding punctuation to the movement.
Desmond releases her, his eys tracking her step back and flourished return. When she does, one arm curls at her lower back, the other rising in a light, tender brush of his fingers along her cheek "And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like.." He setting the pace up to the shared, "I love you."
She leans her cheek into the touch, the gauntlets not allowing him the feel of her flushed skin but she pulls back, giving him a flirtatious look as she moves away, in accord with the lyrics. "I can see it in your eyes, you still despise the same old lines you heard the night before..." With her back to him, she rests her hands on her hips, glancing over her shoulder, a come hither look if ever there was one.
Desmond goes for something new, a careful dip as he speaks carefully through the next lines. It's new to him, thus a bit awkward. Not too deep, though he has no trouble holding her steady. "And though it's just a line to you for me it's true and never seemed so right before." Drawn up from the dip toward the end of his line, a soft concern shown in his steady expression at he oddness of the maneuver. His execution, obviously, not pleasing him.
The look she gives him rewards him for that little dip, a parting of her lips he might recognise from other times. "I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true..." She sings as he lifts her up from the dip, and she pulls away, putting a spin into their little dance, away and back into his arms.
A show of how far he's come is that he focuses more on the improvised play of the song than the singing. His voice still not perfect, but singing those lines is something he's grown used to, instinct starting to take hold. "But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you." Spoken as she draws back towards him, arms wrapping her tighter than before, drawn softly against his chest as he gazes down at her in a way more intimate and personal.
Her pleasure in his learning and changing of the pattern shows in her eyes, something readable only by those two close to her. "The time is right. Your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and oh the night's so blue..." She stays in his arms, tilting her head back to sing the final words with him, their voices coming together at the end. "And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you. I love you..."
Desmond keeps his focus on the moment, letting an intensity enter his gaze as one hand draws up behind her slowly as he sings his line steadily. "And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like.." The shared line given as his hand comes up in another of those careful, lover's touches. "I love you."
She rises on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his as the final notes fade, giving him a warm look of pleasure. "Mon chat, I think you are ready. When Kesslan returns, perhaps we will have a party to celebrate his return, and sing to him?" She gives no credence to the idea that he might not return.
Desmond pauses at her words, considering as he hadn't yet the past few minutes. After that thoughtful quiet he rumbles to her, "If you think me ready, I shall not disagree. You are more knowledgeable than I. And if you wish to perform before him, I shall not disagree. I think, perhaps, he would be a valid outside judge of my readiness as well."
She grins, her eyes lighting up, giving him a long studying look, before nodding. "Oui I think you are ready. Perhaps a little decisions on what dancing we do, and perhaps what we wear..." She tiptoes once more, pressing a kiss against his lips, her body against his before she pulls back. "And now, home, mon chat." She pulls away, walking away, a deliberate extra sway in her hips, a come hither look over her shoulder.
"What we will wear?" A spot of concern in the question. Though Desmond doesn't hesitate to start following her. The tease and suggestion is enough to lure him, the big male going home with his Aimee. Drawn deeper into her world of artistic expression.
Tags: aimee, desmond, learning
