We Meet Again

The Warehouse

A dark womb of black, and purple encompass The Warehouse nightclub. The room is a fair sized club area that has been built out of an old warehouse. Most of the club has been well-lit with neon tubing, but the lighting around the booths and back wall are shadowed to provide some modicum of privacy. Other than the dance area, the floor is a deep mauve, with light patterns displayed haphazardly on it. A ring of black light surrounds the ceiling, causing the lighter colors in both the club and on the patrons to fluoresce.

A catwalk spreads over the dance floor, the black iron rails holding state-of-the-art varilights and floods which reflect off of the large disco ball that dangles from the ceiling, splashing the LED dance floor with light. The dance floor itself flashes and pulses to the beat of the music, continually changing colors in a neonic frenzy. On tall black step-platforms set out randomly throughout the dance floor are black dance cages, roomy enough for two people to bump and grind to the music in them.

The bar matches the rest of the nightclub, tall and black with a strand of purple LED's running along the sides and the outer edges. The stools in front of it are white and chrome, reflecting the purple light that washes over the bar area. Behind the bar is a high-tech, mirrored drink area with glass shelving. Various libations, ranging from alcoholic beverages to fruit juices and sodas line the shelves.

The music here is blisteringly loud, but startlingly clear. Heavy bass notes throb, speakers buzzing slightly when the volume reaches its peak.

Please Note: This scene was started before I joined; poses before these are not included in this log.

Someone taking a pill catches Oliver's attention, but of course there's such a thing as discretion. He's not going to head over there and talk to the man until he knows he's after somehing, and more importantly, knows he can provide it. He does however focus his mind somewhat on the man, trying to 'listen' to his thoughts, he's subtle after all, it's why he's never been so much as accused of a crime… that and he's as good as it gets a lying.

Steve turns toward the dance floor to watch people breaking it down and get funky, smiling vaguely as everything that is wonderful and relaxing and boozey soaks in. His shoulders drop and he sips the drink again. Maybe his shoulders move a little to the beat, but he doesn't dance outright.

Despite the heat of the night, Desiree wears the long, black leather trench-coat belted tightly around herself as she enters the Warehouse. It's been a couple of months since she last was here, back when she came with Oliver and had that run-in with the … well, she doesn't know what to call them. At any rate, it's not until she finds an empty table (toward the back, in the shadows) that she takes it off. The leather dress worn beneath it might be considered scandalous by some reckoning, but she's comfortable. She pauses, looking around before she sits down, taking in the dancing, the bar and the people in her sweeping gaze. THen it's to sit, order a drink and relax.

Oliver seems to be watching a couple of young women at the bar as he listens to the thoughts coming off Steve, he quickly learns that it's a perscription drug. Not something Oliver would deal in as a rule, but it's always worth the effort to pay attention to anyone who seems to be leaning towards dependency, so he heads to the bar, he grabs the barmans attention a lot quicker than one would expect, he whispers something to the man who nods and gets him his drink. Then Olivers wandering through the crowd not returning to his table he's looking to make his way around the room, all the better to pick up thoughts, he grins widely, he dances a few steps here and there with the odd woman that attracts his attention, but of course none of it really matters. It's still all business. Then he hears a mind he recognises, and day to day business is forgotten in favour of dealing with something he should have put to rest a while back. He quickly shifts to the easy smile he's always worn when he's met Des in the past, he makes his way over and lets just a hint of surprise register as the smile slips away. "Desiree… I hadn't expected to see you here tonight."

After long moments of staring through the crowd, Steve spots someone he knows rather well. It's hard to slip through the crowds in the fishlike way he might once have had, but he manages to hobble his way toward her table, surprised to see a stranger hanging around. He doesn't interrupt.

For the most part, Desiree remains calmly sitting at her table. She orders a drink from a passing server, then settles back to sip her mimosa. The dancing is always of interest, but tonight she seems to have no wish to join the throng on the dance-floor. Instead, she seems to be almost in a dream-like state, fingers of one hand toying with her glass while her other arm is resting on the back of her chair. Sitting nearly sideways in her seat, she crosses her legs, just … watching the crowd. It is Saturday night, after all. The place is packed. And then she notes someone very familiar approaching. Two someones, to be exact. Oliver seems to make it there first, and so it's to him she looks. "I like to do the unexpected, now and then. Keeps people on their toes. How've you been, Oliver? Haven't heard from you in … quite awhile." As Steve comes toward her, she smiles, beckoning to an empty chair. "Join me?" It's said to both of them, actually.

Oliver shrugs a shoulder as he takes a seat. "He sips his drink, his smile returning, although it lacks the confidence it has had in the past. "Well our last conversation left me thinking you weren't too eager to." He lets just a little hurt enter his tone at that, if only Oliver had chose acting over drug dealing, he glances at Steve, but doesn't offer anything more than a nod to the man, his attention returning to Desiree. "You seemed less than happy with me."

Steve tilts his head and sinks down into a seat, leaning on his cane to make it easier. "Hi, Des," he says. "You look…" He lifts his brows. "It's quite a dress." He nods at Oliver. "Am I interrupting?" he asks before he's fully settled.

"I was upset," Desiree replies to Oliver. "I was nearly been grabbed by gangbangers, so… no, I wasn't too happy." She shrugs, then, and smiles. "But, it's water under the bridge and I don't hold grudges— at least not for long." The compliment from Steve gets a chuckle. "Thanks, and no, you're not interrupting. Oliver's an old friend. Oliver, Steve— Steve, Oliver." The introductions made, she sips her drink. "I was scared, Oliver, and when a person gets scared, they react adversely. I wasn't hurt, and I'm over it now. So long as nothing like that happens again, things are cool between us." To Steve, she says, "Good to see you out and about. Having fun?"

Oliver nods to Steve. "A pleasure." He then turns attention back to Des. "Oh? So you forgive me." He lets a hint of sarcasm enter his tone. "If I remember things correctly I called you to /warn/ you that I was being followed, just to be accused of being invovled." He takes a breath. "I'm glad you were ok… you don't know how worried I was, but honestly. I don't see how you can lay any of the blame of this on me." He shakes his head. "But that's a conversation for another time." He gives himself a moment before continuing. "It is good to see you. You look stunning as always." He takes another sip of his drink.

Steve clears his throat, expression uncertain. "Well, um…you two obviously know one another," he observes awkwardly. "I can't stay long," he adds. "I just stopped in for a drink, really."

"It's easy for perceptions to get skewed when you've just had the bejeezuz scared out of you," Desiree says by way of defense. "I'm sorry to have jumped to conclusions, but I … you called literally only an hour or so after it happened. Just chalk it up to nerves and being shaken to the core, okay?" She lifts her hand, summoning a waiter. "I know it won't make things better, but order a drink on me." She turns then to Steve, placing a hand on his arm. "No worries, sweetie, just some old business that needed to be settled. I think … well, that sucks," she adds upon hearing he can't stay long. "I hadn't heard from you recently, so I was hoping to see how things were going for you. Your meeting with Max go well?" she asks.

Oliver shakes his head. "I'll buy you a drink." He smiles his usual smile now. "I'm sorry, I was being an idiot… I guess I was scared by the whole thing as well, I was… upset that you seemed to think me capable of something like that." He takes another sip of his drink nodding to Steve again. "I'm sorry, I've been rude." He falls silent with that letting the others speak.

"Yeah," Steve says, bobbing his head. "I hired him. Which must be a bitch for /him/, because I don't even know what kind of work I want to do right now," he says, sipping the drink. "I mean, I told him what I want to ultimately do. But…the steps between…" He shrugs. "I'll probably drive him nuts." A shrug is aimed at Oliver. "No problem, man."

"Well, we all make mistakes," Desiree says to Oliver. "Relax. Let me buy this round, and you can get the next." She tells the waiter to bring another drink for everyone, Steve included. "Good," she tells Steve. "Max will take care of you right. He's been a great guide for me, getting me into work for the AVL and Broadway— even if that folded. You may not work in children's TV again, but … look at Paul Rubens. Is that the guy? Pee-wee Herman?— getting caught doing all that stuff, and he still got that part in the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" movie." She gives him a grin. "Just be patient, and Max will get you work to tide you over, at least." Then, back to Oliver. "So, what've you been up to lately? Still dancing?"

Oliver shrugs his shoulders, he nods to the waiter, who it would appear already knows his order. He then throws back his drink with a sigh. "Actually I've not danced since I saw you… not properly anyway." He shrugs. "Mostly I've been working, I was intending to buy a club, but that's fallen through. I'm currently weighing a number of different plans." He shrugs "What about you?"

Steve chews his lower lip a little when Desiree compares his difficulties to those of Rubens. He keeps quiet, though, and drinks down a little more booze. And then a little more.

"Nothing much, other than some charity work," Desiree tells Oliver. "And, of course, keeping up with old friends." She grins toward Steve. "I went to the Ren Faire last night. It was fun, but I don't know if I'm as into the older stuff like that, at least not to live it." She laughs. "And, I got auctioned off at the Bright Futures' charity affair the other night. Went for the absolute /lowest/ price, too." At this she sticks out her tongue. "The man who 'bought' me is nice. He's opening a roller skating rink soon." She sips her drink, glancing to Steve. "Well, I don't know about driving him nuts. Max is pretty crazy all on his own." She gives Steve a wink.

Shaking his head Oliver laughs. "It's strictly short term… I'm hoping to stay in Dallas, but if not I'll probably set up shop in New York." He grins. "I actually /do/ have contacts in Austin, but they're not as reliable as they used to be." He frowns a little. "I never really been to anything like that, seems a little… well I guess hokey is as good a word as any."

Steve grunts uncertainly, then loks up at Desiree. "Hm? Uh… Oh. No. I took a cab. I took a cab. Don't worry," he tells Desiree with a slow smile. "I'm fine. I try not to drink and drive. Last thing I need. Like I said." He starts to push himself upward out of the chair with a little difficulty.

"Well, hokey, yeah, but fun. You should come out with me tomorrow. Don't have to wear fancy stuff like the first night," Desiree tells him. "There are all kinds of shops, including an apothecary, leather workers, jewelers— oh, all kinds of neat things. Not to mention these fabulous turkey legs." Her attention is diverted back to Steve, and she nods. "Good. I won't worry about you getting home in one piece, then— " She is quick to reach out, steadying the chair for him. "Be careful, sweetie. The floor can be slippery." It's not patronizing, it's genuine concern. "Give me a call soon, yeah? You have the number."

Oliver watches as Steve leaves, he looks a little concerned himself, seeming almost to get up and offer to walk with the other man, but he seems to decide that would pass into the patronizing, so instead he just watches he then turns his attention back to Desiree. "Sounds like a plan." He glances towards the dance floor, his smile becoming one of his more charming. "I'd ask you to dance, but I'm not sure that outfit's much better than the catsuit…. although I must say I did approve of the catsuit."

"Slippery?" Steve echoes. Then he seems to grasp what Desiree means and nods. "Yeah. I'll give you a call. We can celebrate my, uh, new agent," he says. He free hand lifted, he grins sloppily at Oliver. "Nice seeing you." Once he's on his feet, he starts to make his way out. He's steady enough, though he moves slowly.

Desiree watches Steve negotiating the crowd as well, then bites her lower lip. "I hope he gets home safely," she muses, finishing her drink. Looking back at Oliver, she grins. "Well, I still have it, of course, but it's hotter than all get out in the summer. I don't usually wear it until fall or winter." She waves off the second drink. "I'm driving," she explains to the waiter. As she and Oliver are left alone, she nods. "I'm not really in a dancing mood tonight. Been a long couple of days, you know what I mean? First the auction, then the Ren Faire— plus I'm trying to get some renovations done to the studio before the end of August. Add to that my volunteer work, and it's a pretty packed schedule."

Nodding Oliver frowns. "It sounds it, wish my social calendar was so packed." He smiles a little. "Still I'd have liked to have made the auction." He sips his drink. "And we'll have to find an excuse to dance again soon, I've missed it… I've missed you. Even while I was a touch upset." He grins. "Strange how you don't notice things like that until you see someone again isn't it?"

"That's certainly true, Oliver," Desiree says, toying with her empty glass. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight, either, but I'm glad I did. It gave us a chance to clear the air." Her hand reaches out to rest on his. "I'm sorry I was so rude. It was just … reaction, I guess. I know you had nothing to do with it, so please forgive me." Her smile is sincere, and she gives his hand a squeeze. "Well, if you miss dancing with me that much, just give me a call when you're in town. Maybe we can sneak into the country club again." She winks.

Oliver smiles shaking his head. "It was as much me as you I think. I was upset myself, I probably took things harder than I should have." He raises the held hand to offer it a light kiss. "I don't think we should ever mention it again." He laughs. "Oh I still live in town, and I'm still getting invited to the country club, I just haven't been going of late." He smiles brightly. "I am glad you missed me though."

"Hey, why wouldn't I miss a great dance partner?" Desiree says with a grin. "And next time you get invited to the Country Club, you just give me a call. We'll tango the night away." She laughs, breaking her own rule and having a second drink after all. "So, nice to hear you're still around. I did miss you, once I got over my mad. Don't know about the cats, though. They're pretty snooty." Again she chuckles, watching the dancers gyrate on the floor. "I wonder if they even realize how bizarre they appear? I mean, it's not really dancing, more just … moving around to the … well, music." She shakes her head. "Of course, I'm /usually/ right out there with them, so who am I to talk?"

Oliver grins to Desiree. "I did enjoy the Tango, a very… aggressive dance." He chuckles as he follows Desirees' glance to the dancers, his tone becoming teasing "It's a sad truth that they're in the majority…. Which means that we're getting dangerously close to the bizarre with our tangos." He shrugs a shoulder. "I don't think the cats will be a problem, they liked me well enough the last time I visited."

"They did at that," Desiree agrees, sipping her new drink. "Ah, yes, that tango we did at the Country Club. That /was/ fun. I should teach you the Argentine Tango if you want /agressive,/" she says. "Or the Pasa Doble. That's one where the man really pursues the woman, and she succumbs to his advances. All those Latin dances are male-oriented, except for the samba and mambo. They're less masculine and more feminine." She chuckles. "The majority, yes, but /we/ are not in that majority, Oliver. /We/ can dance." After another sip of her drink, Desiree asks, "So, tell me about your latest business ventures. You're working out of Austin, now?"

Shrugging Oliver seems to give that a few moment of thought as he sips his drink. "Ah… well I'm looking forward to the Pasa Doble then, I've always been good at the pursuit, it's getting the woman to succumb that's always caused me problems." He looks far too confident for him to consider that true. "As for work. I've been trying to bring in an industrial chemicals contract to Dallas, it's proving harder than I'd like." He looks at Desiree. "How about you, how did the recital go?"

"It went well enough, although we didn't raise as much money as I'd hoped we would. Still, every little bit helps, and the kids had a great time being 'baby wild things,' as one of my younger students said. They were adorable." Desiree grins at the memory. "Industrial chemicals? Doesn't that impact the environment? Is that why it's proving difficult?" She looks interested in his response, but allows him to change the subject. "Yeah, I'll bet you'll like the Paso. Ever watch 'Dancing With the Stars?' That's one of the major dances they do. It's very powerful and quite daring in some circles. I usually don't teach it to my ballroom students. It's a little over the top for some of them, as old as they are. They'd probably have a coronary." She grins. "You, on the other hand… I'd enjoy teaching /you/."

Nodding Oliver seems amused for a moment. "Yeah, I'd have liked to have been there, but I wasn't available." He shakes his head. "That's part of the problem, you can't trade in chemcials that have an impact on the enviroment, so we're looking clean alternatives. I tracked down several possible companies, but at present they all go through the Austin branch, which makes working here expensive." He nods looking at Desiree. "Well I hope I take to it as quick as the other dances we tried… you forget /you/ can dance, I just follow instruction better than most."

"It's positively eerie how fast you pick up on dances," Desiree says. "It's like you can read my mind or something. It would be great if /all/ my partners were that perceptive." She smiles at Oliver, a certain fondness in her expression. "I really have missed chatting and dancing with you. I mean, Michael and Hugo are both excellent dancers, but— we just seemed to click so well." She pauses, sipping her drink. "Would you like to be in the Fall/Winter production? I was thinking of making the theme 'A Night in King Arthur's Court,' and adding a ballroom number. I'd love you to be my partner." It's obviously a thought which has just come to her, but a nice gesture at any rate.

Oliver doesn't give away any hint that she'd guessed how he does it, instead he simply shrugs a shoulder to Desiree. "I guess we do click at that." He finishes his drink, his smile faint. "I would love to be a part of your production." He takes on a mock casual tone. "I suppose I should start lessons fairly soon? I'd hate to show you up in your own production?" He flashes his most charming smile, he reaches out to take Desirees' hand squeezing it gently. "I'm glad you picked up on the connection as well Des." He stands once more intending to raise the hand for another kiss. "It's been good to see you again, I'll call you tomorrow and we can see about going to the fair?"

"Well, the studio's closed for the summer," Desiree says, rising as well. "It needs some renovations, so it won't be open again until the end of August. But— we can still practice, if you want. Mr. Wright isn't going to start the work for a while yet." She shakes her head, leaning in to place a kiss on Oliver's cheek. Grabbing her coat, she says, "Why don't you walk me out? I'm ready to head home, have a cuddle with the cats, watch a chick flick and fall asleep on the couch." She grins, tucking her arm through his and not really giving him a choice. "You can give me a call next week and we'll chat some more about dancing … and stuff."

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