let's bounce {open!}

[Elliot is on the edge.]

Elliot squared herself inside her heels, attempting to get her bearings as they prepared to do battle with the thickest part of the crowd - the one around the bar. Just as she had been about to suggest to her escort that he shoulder the first few people in their path out of the way, he caught sight of his boss. It seemed that the exact moment she was dreading was in fact coming up much quicker than she had been anticipating.

His comment made her laugh however, and in light of it, the daunting situation ahead seemed a little more bearable. She looked back over to the subject of their discussion and tried to picture him dancing along to the music, or at least sneaking in the obligatory foot tap or shoulder bump when maybe he thought no one was looking, but to no avail. The mental image just served to make her laugh further, which was great for her morale, but horrible for her balance.

"Looks like you better get your butt back out there." She frowned a little, using him to steady herself one last time before unwrapping her hand from his bicep and stepping back a little. Elliot was glad for all his company, but she definitely didn't want him getting fired. Who was going to protect her next time if that happened?

His next statement caused her to laugh out loud, though it was a sound slightly different from the melodic giggles that had been escaping her just moments before. If he was anyone else, she might have taken offense, but his hand felt warm on her bare shoulder and instead she just grinned wryly. "Don't worry. If you were pursuing me you wouldn't have a chance anyway. I'm way out of your league." And there it was, the surprise wit and long-gone bar charm that had once been Elliot Davis' only language. She even added a trademark wink for punctuation.

Stretching up so her bare heels slipped out of her shoes for a half-second, the blonde planted a parting kiss on Kenneth's cheek in thanks before finally stepping away from him. "I'll be fine." And without waiting for his reply, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, doing her damnedest to remember all the pointers of navigating a club. Elbows in, strong steps, and for god's sake don't breathe through your nose. It wasn't until she finally crashed into the bar that Elliot exhaled a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. Smoothing out her dress self-consciously, she slid onto a bar stool and tried to ease the flush from her face as she waited patiently for a bartender to notice her.

[/blockquote]

[҉ Kenneth Lorne]

Kenneth sighed inwardly, nodding and reflecting her frown. But then she managed to cheer him up with her sharp humour, because he was laughing that booming laugh even the music couldn't compete with. It drew a few stares, but eyes didn't linger long on him - Elliot was such a scene stealer! He clutched at his plain staff t-shirt and adopted a would-be wounded expression.

"Ouch, so the truth comes out! You know I'm going to have 'She's So High' stuck in my head for the rest of the night now. Your fault!" He patted Elliot's hand on his arm in an almost paternal fashion before she let go, and he leaned into her goodbye kiss so she wouldn't have to strain herself too far. Her reassurance made him smile in less a goofy fashion than a relieved one, and he waved after her back.

But because Elliot was turned the other way, she didn't return his wave. Instead, someone else at the bar did. Dorian was grinning over the head of a curly brunette and Ken knew the guy must not have seen Elliot amidst the crowd. His eyes followed the blonde all the way to the counter, then back to Dorian. His friend must have registered something amiss, because his gaze followed Kenneth's. The stunned look on the other boy's face did merit a chuckle from the bouncer, and he turned to walk around the dance floor. His pocket buzzed violently, but he ignored the text.

Good luck, was all he was able to think, before 'She's So High' actually did start humming its way from his lips. He wasn't sure where his good wishes were directed; to the beautiful girl sitting at the counter, or the young man working behind it... perhaps both. It would be nice to be able to hang out with both his best friend and the inner elite circle again. After all, Dorian used to live with those boys, but after Elliot he distanced himself a great deal. Hopefully something good would come of tonight. If not, Kenneth supposed nothing would change, but it didn't stop him from wishing otherwise.

[Dorian Wilde]

Tonight was a good night. Without even trying, he scored four phone numbers, and when he turned up the charm just a little, four more flooded his way. He was now working on his ninth (for his own entertainment; these girls rarely got a call from him), when he heard Kenneth laughing his fool head off somewhere nearby. He looked up, and his friend was waving, so he waved back, amused. Wasn't he supposed to be outside right now? But Ken's eyes wandered from Dorian and his latest mission to somewhere down the bar, and as always, curiosity got the best of him. What could draw Kenneth's attention...

Admittedly, he was surprised. Dorian had been doing fantastic lately mood-wise. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he was seeing a therapist for his unhealthy problems with Elliot, along with a couple other personal problems he'd never care to share. But it must be helping, because after the initial shock wore off, his text to Ken was nowhere near as angry as it once would have been.

To: Ken
Msg: Get back to work, slacker

But Ken was one step ahead of him, and already leaving. He wasn't manning that section of the bar - front and centre was usually his because he tended to rake in most of the tips (not that he kept them), but he put his flirting with the curly-haired girl on hold to surreptitiously trade stations with the bartender that was.

He walked straight to her, ignoring waving hands struggling for his attention. The brunette down the counter pulled a face and left with her drink. Dorian adopted that charming smile again and asked, "What can I get you?"

Along with that smile, he donned the striped bartender's jacket, a light blue dress shirt, and a pair of black dress pants. His footwear was nowhere near as fancy as Elliot's - the young man learned very quickly that he shouldn't wear his Kenneth Coles to work at a nightclub. Instead he wore dark running shoes, and he preferred not to think of what grime got on them. He decided to occupy his mind on more pressing matters. He leaned casually on the counter, eyes flicking from Elliot to the vast wall of liquor behind him. What a spectacular combination.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

Warily digging some no doubt imaginary dirt from under her blue fingernails, Elliot was completely oblivious to the minor uproar at the head bar. Her head was buzzing with blood and some electric, a warm feeling that made her want to chuckle. It wasn't until he spoke that the blond finally realized that a certain bartender had made her his mark above all the rest.

To be honest and clear, she was floored by Dorian's sudden appearance.
Sure, Ken had warned her not even five minutes ago that the other boy was not only working in the very same club she had chosen for her outing, but that he was working that night, right now. Still, that hardly stopped her heart from seizing up and leaping into her throat at the very sight of him. It was something about his smile and how she had been completely unprepared for it. It was in the familiar sound of his voice and how his courtesy effortlessly managed to bridge the years between this night and the once upon a time when they had been friends first and foremost, and always smiled at the sight of the other. She saw, in that single perfect flash, a Dorian Wilde that she had recognized and known and had feared was completely lost - and by her own fault no less. The reassurance that his heart was still beating comforted a small part of her. It wasn't so much that he had chosen to come over and speak to her - because Elliot and Dorian had shared many conversations since their breakup - but it was his niceties, his little white flag and that smile, oh that smile, that left her shell-shocked.

It left her stunned for a moment, but with every ounce of meticulous self-control she kept her mouth from hanging open or her eyebrows from arching in suspicion. Truthfully, a die-hard cynical part of her was refusing to accept this as anything more than an act, demanding that a guard be kept up at all times lest she be hurt. Ironically, Kenneth had probably left her in the only situation where there was the potential for maximum damage and absolutely no way for him to protect her during or after the fact. Dorian still held the ability to crush Elliot if he so wished, to say all the right things and leave her open and broken and hating herself, and of course Ken could say something, but it wasn't like he was going to punch his best friend in the face for making a crybaby like Elliot tear up. Realizing that she had looked away and was distantly scanning the eye-catching wall of spirits behind the bar, Elliot made the finite decision to continue forth, but that she would only do so with strict caution.
(Whatever 'strict' plus four shots of tequila meant, it seemed they were both about to find out.)

Chewing on the inside of her lip so that he wouldn't notice the habit, Elliot finally returned the boy's smile in full resplendent force, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she met his eyes with her own heavy-lidded gaze. Part of her felt that she should say something mild and colorless, that she should try and create at least a shred of steady ground for them to stand on. Maybe she should have asked about work or Jon or the weather, but honestly, Elliot either already knew or hardly cared about those things. She felt like asking about Mae, because she was such a fucking little masochist at times like these, but she quickly reminded herself that she was going to need a bit more to drink first. Her eyes drifted back to the isles of deadly tempting bottles, Dorian's figure lingering somewhere in the foreground of both her vision and her thoughts. Taking the two sights in together caused her smile, though still thoroughly sublime, to take a bemused turn.

Just like old times. There was no denying that had one point boys - and for a while this one in particular - and alcohol had been just about the only things in Elliot's sight line. Truth be told, she was healthier and stable and there was always an even glow to her face these days, but she didn't have near as much fun as she used to. That was the price for finally having a little self-esteem, she chided herself. Still, the inward reprimands weren't going to keep her from falling to the charade they had revisited, just for a little bit at least.

"Surprise me."

[Dorian Wilde]

She was just as lovely, and just as devastating as ever. He'd been able to keep himself collected to this point, a feat he hadn't thought possible before tonight. But then her eyes found his, and as corny and as awful as it was to say, he was lost. His smile loosened to a more relaxed position as he drank her in - the whole package. Honey hair and a blue dress that could have been painted on for all he knew. He tried to push away memories of when he was actually allowed to touch that body of hers, and instead focused on her.

She was looking past him now, and his lips twitched at her words. A surprise? "I thought I'd already done that," He smirked, though it was nothing like the cold expression she'd been growing accustomed to as of late.

Dorian went to work pouring a mixture of Absolut, sweet and sour mix, soda water, and Sprite into a shaker. After mixing, he strained the contents into a collins glass, and used a freshly cut lemon slice for garnish. He slipped a straw into the drink, then slid it across the counter.

"You're alone," He observed. For now. He wondered how far away Eiji was in this crowd of people, and distantly pondered how the scene with his former roommate would play out. Would Dorian be able to play to cool and collected and aloof ex, or would he reduce himself to a petty, jealous child? He didn't dwell too long on the matter however, as he didn't quite deem the hypothetical situation worth his time. He could disappear easily if he needed to. There were plenty of clubbers eager to snag him away from the blonde.

His fellow bartenders seemed to notice he was occupied. Any other employee might be chastised for ignoring his job, but they'd all come to realize that Dorian wasn't here for the money. His tips went directly to their pockets, so complaining about him slacking off wasn't exactly in their best interest. But they picked up his slack, working double-time to serve the customers he was too busy to tend. And of course, Dorian either didn't notice, or didn't care.

"Did you see Ken?" He asked conversationally during a lull in the music. Dorian was aware that Ken saw Elliot, but he wasn't sure of the extent of the connection. Had they even said hello?

[Elliot is on the edge.]

Perhaps it was reckless of her to agree with him, but the new light he stood in before her was encouraging something truthful. She tucked away a few rebellious curls before lowering her arm and resting it against the edge of the bar, thus leaving the image of her face unobstructed. The blue bar lights overhead made her look cryptic and mischievous, as if she held the key to the world's secrets behind her guarded little smile. After searching the bartender's eyes for a long moment, she finaly let out a quiet sigh of appeasement and then admitted, "Yeah, you did."
This meant something to her, the show of good faith between them, and she wanted to show him that he could trust her just a little bit too, here and now at least - all guarantees were void outside of the club - but for now, she would obey the golden rule if he would.

Dorian set about mixing the contents of her drink, and for a moment silence fell between them as she watched him go about his work. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and she had to admit that it was nice to see him focused on something. The tension around his eyes had eased since she'd last seen him and it suited him. They were both looking a bit healthier these days, and while Elliot knew that most of the credit for her state of mind went straight to Eiji, she wondered what it was that was keeping Dorian's demons at bay. Briefly, she mused over what had potentially become of his music and the occasional habit he once had of writing it, but at the same time, she knew well enough to see that it was hardly the time to ask, and so the conversation turned to things they knew better, like drinking.

He slid her the newly minted drink across the counter and she caught it, curling a hand around the cool glass. Raising the straw to her lips, the blond took short, cautionary sip as her eyes lingered on the bartender, ready to corner him should any disaster arise. As soon as she had actually tried the drink however, she softened, and took a longer, appreciative drink before setting it down careful atop the bar coaster. She approved. Perhaps she had put him in a cruel position, but they both could see that he had done well enough under the pressure. The weariness with which she was still subtly regarding him with began to soften, but she suspected that it had something more to do with her alcohol intake thus far, than any real sort of trust between them.

She couldn't quite read his expression when he noted that she was unaccompanied, and so Elliot did her best to guard her own smile when she answered. "Well-spotted." It was polite enough, but something in her tone was a little dry, as if she were poking fun at him. Part of her had been tempted to lie, to tell him that Eiji, perhaps even all the boys, were in the crowd just a word away and keeping an eye out for her, but the truth slipped forth instead and she sighed quietly at her own drunkenness. The other part of her was practically dying to spill the entire story of her new job and the well-meaning apologies and the big solo expedition, but she reminded herself just exactly who this was standing in front of her, and the motion quickly died on the vine.

"Yeah, I actually ran into him outside, with him being the doorman and all, and," she glanced back towards the door, as if Kenneth was about to pop his head back inside and somehow meet her gaze with his laughing eyes, and when she turned back to Dorian, the smile on her face was wide and fond, "he was uh, gentlemanly enough to sort of salvage my entire evening thus far." Elliot raised her glass and took another long drink, licking her lips at the sharpness of the Sprite as she set it back on the bar and wrapped both hands around it.

She tilted her head to the side. "How long have you been working here?"

[Dorian Wilde]

He wasn't sure what it was, but his cocky expression softened ever so slightly at her minuscule admission. She wasn't so standoffish as she once was, and he wasn't sure if he should give credit to the alcohol in her system, or some other miracle. He was half expecting a snide come-back, or complete denial, but Elliot always had a way of surprising him in ways much more subtle than his sneaking up on her.

She still had her sarcastic humour though, and that curl returned to his lips instead of a reply. He preferred to talk about their next subject anyway, and decided to ignore the jab she verbally swung at him, "He was inside earlier. Helped kick out some drunk people... this job was made for him," Dorian commented, a private joke adding a spark to his eye. When Elliot mentioned Ken having saved her evening, the young man nodded, that amusement carrying through to his words, "Yeah, he has a way of doing that."

He filled a quick order of a rather boisterous customer, mixing a bunch of liquids from the tap into a glass with ice and practically shoving it across the counter. He was unsurprised there was no tip - the service was awful - and slapped the cash on top of the register for someone else to take care of. His attention returned to Elliot, who was asking him a question.

"Hmm... started in March. So... six months now. Wow," He added, speaking more to himself than anyone else, "that's far too long."

He was attempting to learn how to cook, but he was beginning to realize how hopeless he was at it. Jon had given up trying to instruct him - Dorian could get impatient, and didn't enjoy being patronized by someone younger than him - and he seemed to have a natural affinity for burning things. Dorian's plan for eternity was to try every sort of profession and master it, starting from the less dangerous ones and working his way up to careers in espionage and warfare. Cooking wasn't supposed to be that hazardous, yet somehow Dorian found a way to turn macaroni into a visit from the Fire Department.

So it looked like master chef was not going to be attached to his resume any time soon, and he hadn't moved onto the next game yet. For now, it looked like Club Silver was home. He didn't need the money; he'd never admit it to anyone, but the automatic deposits the club assumed they were making into Dorian's account actually fed straight into the charity Kenneth's mother was founder of. It was the best of his worst habits. A mini side-project he loved to donate his pocket change to.

So he was putting off looking for a new job, not while he was enjoying this one so much. However, he knew that if Elliot started to become a regular, he'd likely switch jobs. He wasn't absolutely loathe to her company, not at the moment. But Elliot was very much like a prescription drug. She was fine in small doses, but too much exposure would fuck with his mind and really mess him up. He was already in therapy so he could get over her and move on with his life. Tonight was like a junkie in rehab accidentally getting an unexpected hit of the drug that put him there. He wasn't quite sure if he was happy or terrified, but he tried to hide whatever emotion might spring forth and betray his progress.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"That's very true." Elliot agreed easily. Kenneth had appeared as her knight in shining armor numerous times to date, probably only second to her boyfriend and Draco really. She and the half-Djinn weren't die-hard best friends, but the nature of his personality always made her feel as if he was the kind of person she could call on for help at any hour of the night.

Someone a few bar-stools down began making a racket and Dorian turned his head to accommodate him, leaving Elliot alone with her drink; which, by the time he returned, had reverted to just an empty glass. Looking up and meeting his eyes, she was a little taken aback by the force of his vision, the clarity with which he was watching her. It was a trait she had always appreciated about Dorian, the way he made it so clear that he was focusing on you and only you. The downside to this was of course that it was also just as blindingly obvious when he felt that someone didn't deserve his attention. Remembering the dangerous edge to his cold shoulder, something in Elliot made sure to be careful to keep from receiving one of her own this evening. Something about these classy boys, she had always felt the need to impress them.

Pushing the empty glass off to the side, Elliot leaned her elbows on the bar so that she could hear him better, finding herself uncharacteristically curious as to his answer. She had been surprised to find him working in a bar; though at a later analysis she would realize that like Kenneth, Dorian had stumbled upon a very suitable job to his personality. He was handsome, quick with his hands, a good listener, spontaneous when the situation absolutely called for it, and he would be the first to point out when someone's had too much to drink. Searching his eyes as he spoke, Elliot just found herself inwardly crossing her fingers that he would find something better, more worthy of some of his other talents someday.

Six months? It had been six months since March? This seemed to subject Elliot to the same quiet surprise that it had Dorian as she began turning things over in her head, trying to remember where she had been in March and why it seemed like last week, not half a year ago. They had received the news about Eiji's money on a rainy day in Feburary and had begun to reorder their priorities immediately. No more partying on weekdays - or really at all - no more Chinese takeout or Christian Dior or Patron. He sold his car - which, to this day still shocked and dumbfounded her, and made her realize what an honest, good man she had finally found - and they both started walking everywhere. Tristan and Charlotte let her work the graveyard shift at the Why Not Diner and she began to consider taking a term off from school. March was when they began to pack up their things at the loft and look for a new apartment, when Elliot found her second job at the publishing house, when they started to stand on their own two feet again.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to process all that had been her life over the last year, but it seemed too much to swallow in her present state of mind so instead she elected to tuck away the roster of changes to her lifestyle to be pondered at a better, later time.

"That's good," She noted with a smile, "It's always good to have something stable going on in your life, and even better if it pays." There was a time when Elliot was supposed to be that stable thing, but up until this last year, she had never even known what being stable was like, let alone ever being strong enough to support two people. "I just got a new job." Oh fuck. She marred her beautiful face with a frown, furious with the way her mouth was running away with it's self tonight. At the same time, the only cure she could think to ease the symptoms of her buzz was of course, to drink more. It was this familiar instinct that facilitated the seamless shift of her electric blue eyes from Dorian to the empty glass at her elbow. Her lips twisted into a playful grin as she used to fingers to push the glass back in between them, her gaze finding his again easily. She raised an eyebrow, her silent bid for a refill. Elliot did he best to put the same amount of undeniable focus into her electric blue eyes as he offered her, and her gaze stayed steady even as the song overhead changed and her shoulders began to swing back and forth.

[Dorian Wilde]

Dorian just nodded to the majority of what she had to say; there wasn't anything overly constructive he could add to her observations, and if he protested that he didn't need money, how arrogant and superior would that be? Thankfully he was distracted by her announcement, or rather, her own reaction to the announcement. She got a new job?

"I'm not sure whether I should say congratulations, or I'm sorry," He said, referring to her frown. Elliot could be here celebrating, or trying to drown her misery away. For either scenario, he plucked the empty glass she pushed toward him away, and instead set to work on a martini. Blue curacao and vodka mixed in with cranberry juice and soda was shaken then strained into a fancy martini glass. He slid the mixture back to her, adding a couple frozen cranberries as garnish along with a thin neon straw. "You don't look very excited," He explained, genuinely intrigued as to what might explain her expression.

He didn't really feel like working any more tonight. There was still another four hours to his shift, and he wondered if he should call someone else in to work. But what would he do instead? Sit and chat with Elliot all night? He wasn't sure that was the best idea - it could be equivalent to an overdose. He was kind of hungry - maybe he'd go for pizza and leave Elliot here to enjoy the club by herself. But he couldn't ignore that she was alone, and after adding a double shot to her martini, he couldn't in good conscience just let her loose. Maybe his subconscious was telling him he should take care of her. His nose wrinkled in protest.

She wasn't his charge any more. He had no business worrying about her, had no right to feel like her guardian. That all disappeared the night she decided Eiji was her soul mate. Dorian drew back, looking down the rest of the bar at all the eager clubbers. The song had changed a little while ago, and Elliot was swaying animatedly to it. He tried to pay attention to the lyrics.

Everybody's lookin' for love - ohh.
Ain't that the reason you're at this club? Ohh
You ain't gonna find it dancin' with him, no.
I got a better solution for ya girl - ohh.

How... cruel.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

The bar lights overhead shifted colors for a few moments, bathing the pair of them in a parade of blues and purples and reds. Elliot watched with interest as Dorian set about mixing her second drink, admiring the way he once again silently took charge of the portion of the bar he had squared off for himself. Her eyes followed his hands as they animatedly poured and mixed and stirred and shook her cocktail. Between the sight before her and the enticing music over head, Elliot got lost inside her own head for a few moments, and so it took a few more before she realized that Dorian was actually speaking to her. She watched him drop a few frozen cranberries into her drink and pondered over what exactly to say in return.

As far as her new employment went, Elliot couldn't have been happier. One job was worlds better than two, especially since she could actually pay attention in school now, instead of drifting through it in a zombie-like state as she had been the last few months. It was something that actually interested her too, and Peter liked her, which was more than she could say for her boss at the publishing house - a gigantic, perverse man with flop sweat and chronic heartburn named Fred Hammon. The nicest thing he ever had to say to her was 'You should wear your hair down more often'. Her boss now, who had only known her for two weeks and change at best, lent her a Rolls-Royce stretch to take out to the club, by herself. What could have been better?

"It's a great job, and I'm lucky to have it." She peeled her stare from the drink he had passed her and up to his eyes, sounding a little more sure of herself this time. "Congratulations are definitely in order." A familiar smile began to bloom amongst the previous turmoil and then it seemed she found just enough courage to admit where the frown had been borne from.

"I'm just not used to talking to you yet. Part of me is still just waiting for you to throw that -" she pointed delicately to the chilled martini standing between them " - in my face or something." She was hesitant to confess this for the potential awkwardness it could breed - and again, this was all completely potentially due to the alcohol she had been greedily imbibing up to this point - but it turned out to be easy enough to say, and the warm countenance she wore never faltered. She pinched the stem of the martini glass and raised it to her lips, thirsty, but mostly just needing something to stop her mouth from running any further. She was beginning to get to that point where her sentences where crashing into each other at the ends, and she was doing her best to keep from acting like a completely sloppy mess in front of Dorian because even though they were getting along now, and they had been friends then, at the heart of it he was her ex, and the nagging desire to appear as someone who's infinitely better off now was unfortunately something that plagued all separated couples.

[Dorian Wilde]

Dorian watched her, probably more intently than he should, and noticed how her expression changed with her thoughts. He suddenly wished he was telepathic, but that proved unnecessary. She was being unexpectedly honest with him, allowing him a bit of peek into her mind.

"Well then, congratulations," he replied to her smile, finding that he was actually happy for her good fortune. There was a time in his life when he hoped a rogue hippopotamus would fall from the sky and crush her, and it only showed how far he'd come. Being genuinely glad for Elliot was a pleasant surprise, and the third sign of hope that he'd survive her. The first was being able to approach her without leaning over the counter and strangling her, and the second was being able to host a civil and constructive conversation.

Her words now were endearingly anxious, and he looked down at the Purple Haze he'd created for her. Was it strange that the thought never even occurred to him? Maybe if she'd entered the club a couple months ago, he would have been tempted. A couple months before that, she might indeed be wearing the colour he was once so fond of. But tonight his lips curled into a harmless smile and he shook his head.

"Perhaps if it was a plum," Was it too soon to joke? He hoped his sincerity would soften the line. But just in case, he felt the need to explain why he wasn't the same asshole she remembered, "Really though, I'm not that upset anymore. I was irrational before, but any guy that lost you would be the same way," it was another joke - not meant to be taken seriously by any means, but he wondered if the alcohol might taint her ability to distinguish. So he leaned back while she sipped her martini and contemplated returning to work. He really didn't feel like it. So he held up a finger to indicate he'd be a moment, and turned to the blonde bartender he was working with. He muttered something into her ear, and she didn't look very happy. But he ignored this and took his phone from his pocket and started texting someone. He returned to Elliot, glancing at his phone every now and then while he typed.

"I think I'll be putting in my resignation soon," He clicked the 'send' button and pocketed the device. Dorian's black eyes focused on the beautiful girl before him and his lips twitched, "Not really my 'scene' anymore, you know?"

[Elliot is on the edge.]

Elliot set the drink back upon the counter top, her eyes lingering on it for a moment as she savored the taste on her lips. A sloppy but nonetheless stunning smile was getting to be her default setting at this point; just another hint to her growing state of intoxication. It felt nice though, she had to admit, being a little reckless and irresponsible, getting a little stupid for once. She felt as if she deserved it almost. And even better was the feeling that she wasn't drinking in order to get away from anything. She was trying to completely embrace everything about her life at the present moment, and celebrating it seemed the best damn way to go about it.

"Thank you." She couldn't articulate just how much his sincerity meant to her correctly, and so she was graceful enough not to try at all. She felt slightly undeserving of his civility, as she always would, and it made her hand instinctively flex around the stem of her drink. Elliot would probably eternally harbor some sort of guilt about the way she had treated Dorian, and it was just one more hurdle that kept her from being able to just relax and act like human in his presence.

His smile was definitely helping though.
His next words were easily taken as a joke, and another laugh spilled forth from the blonde bar patron as she remembered the unfortunately comedic image that was her desperately scrubbing at the plum stains on her wool Burberry coat after Draco picked her up from the police station. They had been something like possessed that day in the grocery store, and it had always stuck with her how quickly Dorian had summoned up such a vicious altar ego in her. Obviously, she had the power to do the same to him, and it was a potentially catastrophic combination. Still, they had survived each other thus far.

His followup comment twisted a small knife somewhere in her stomach, but her grin remained unshaken. She even had a reply put together, but whatever it might have been quickly evaporated as the bartender raised his finger abruptly. Elliot bit her lip, taking another long drink of her martini as she began to halfheartedly wonder what time it was. She had been here for at least an hour, but the initial buzz of her Lorazepam had finally worn off and she just didn't feel like heading home yet. It would be an empty apartment for a little longer anyway, so what was the rush? She suppressed the urge to fidget, raising the enticing drink to her lips just as Dorian reappeared, his eyes jumping back and forth between her and the screen in his hand.

"Why do you say that?" The blonde smiled like syrup, crossing one leg over the other as she placed the empty drink down between them once more. She looked around the club once, as if taking in the settings for the first time, then settled her baby blues back on Dorian. "Pretty girls, a wall of alcohol and a chance to show off for a room full of people? I think it's a fitting enough scene for you." She winked, hoping like he had, that her words would come across as a joke. Something in the back of her mind was toying with the idea of ordering shots, of all disastrous things, but suddenly a better idea presented itself.

"Since you're planning on blowing the joint eventually anyway, how about you come around to my side of the counter and have a drink with me?" The expression on her face simplified into a genuine expression of interest. She find herself with no ulterior motives, just crossing her fingers for a little company it seemed. She raised up her hands in a playful gesture of surrender. "Just one." Tipping her head toward the vacant bar stool besides her, Elliot grinned. "I won't bite, I promise."

[Dorian Wilde]

He chuckled at her observation. Yes, this place had fitted him just fine, but like always, Dorian was growing bored. Club Silver used to be exciting and fresh and he'd learn something new every day. Now he knew all the drink recipes, along with a few he was creative enough to invent. He had perfected the art of utilizing a silver tongue, and found that there really was no chase for the women that came here. They all fit into two categories; single and looking, and taken and uninterested. If there was a slight crossover to make a combination not mentioned, they weren't Dorian's type anyway. Finding someone to fill his bed wasn't a problem, and for the first while it was thrilling. Now it was... mundane. The excitement was long gone, and he missed the challenge of the chase.

Elliot's suggestion to drink with her piqued his desire and curiosity for adventure. He wasn't naturally a rebel; he appreciated order much more than he could chaos. But those devious eyes and that promise in her expression pulled him in, and her playful words were like a flame. He was a helpless moth, and he'd do anything she asked. And he was blissfully unaware of how much control the girl still had over him.

Believing it was his own free will that moved him around the counter, he gave her a crooked smile before he freed a couple bottles of beer from the fridge. He saluted to a confused co-worker then leaned on the customer side of the bar next to Elliot. He couldn't ignore the heat of her even through the sleeve of his jacket. He slid a beer toward her for when she finished her current martini, and used the bottle-opener on his necklace to crack his own beer open.

"I'm going to take your word on that," He referred to her promise, and lifted his beer to cheers, "To sharks that don't bite." Dorian briefly wondered if Elliot was too far gone to understand his wit. They'd both been described, by others and themselves, as cold, even ruthless. Predators with little consideration of their prey. Elliot could certainly lash out when she needed to, and Dorian was more than capable of snapping at those who aggravated him. They were the sharks, participating in an alcoholic feeding frenzy, and instead of ripping out each others throats for scraps, they were nearly comfortable together. But that might be thanks to the loosening effects of the alcohol.

He took a swig of his beer and turned a blind eye to the annoyed bartenders on the opposite side of the counter. Elliot was right - he wasn't going to be here much longer. There was no point in wasting effort he wasn't willing to give. It felt good, to be bad, especially when Elliot was involved. "Thanks," He told her simply, not immediately offering an explanation for why he felt inclined to acknowledge his appreciation.