[Sodium_noir] Killing Time at Harlequins

[David Rodemaker]

Michael Gaunt, Tess Martin, John Black, The Urmen
Mage, Mortal, Mr Mystery, Vamp, Garou and Mummy
a Booth
Club  Harlequin

Michael stroked the back of her hand and then reached up to caress the back
of her neck beneath her hair where Tess had always carried her tension.  His
fingers pressed there, easing the stress as he did so - the long buried
gesture resurrected by her nervousness. ...and it produced an almost
instinctual reaction. Tess relaxed her shoulders and sank a bit deeper into
her seat.

Michael's fingers danced there for a bit, squeezing and stroking the tension
away - better now then he ever had done so before - and the touch of his
fingers left patterns of sensual fire that shot up and down her spine. 

Her attention went back to Columbine and, in a casual, easy tone (and hoping
the question didn't arouse the anger of this creature), Tess asked,
"So....you and Harle back together again?"

The look that swept across Columbines face could only be described as hungry
and victorious. Like  cat that had cornered a mouse. She smiles broadly.
"Yeah" she purrs, "I decided to give him another chance. You know what it's
like honey, we all love a bastard!"

It was almost too easy, too obvious to react to, but Tess found herself
grinning a sly, Cheshire cat grin. She nodded to Columbine and answered
softly. "The best ones are always the biggest bastards, aren't they?  And
yet, we can't seem to shake them off.  I suppose part of it's the challenge
- the struggle - and knowing that life..."  Tess stopped, cleared her
throat, and did the polite thing (considering the company). "That
'existence'... with them will never be boring."

She cast a sideways glance at Michael, winked, and squeezed his leg again.

Michael smiled in return, quietly watching them all interact as his
perceptions returned to the Here-and-Now. His hand dipped down and stroked
her back in an equally intimate gesture and then returned to massaging her
neck. He focused on Kiss for a moment, his head cocked to the side as he
considered her fits of choking laughter, the words flowing out of him
without thought as his Lady prompted him to speak, "Is there is no cure
then?"

(an equally as sleepy tag)