Lets Get to the Worm {ask}

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

There he stood; bathed in blood, wielding a weighty sword in one hand and the head of a demon in the other; a raging pyre at his back warming him no further than the scarlet splattered skin that covered his body.
Within there was only cold; emptiness. Not even a victory against a formidable foe or the loss of his innocent victims could rouse an emotion inside the shifter. Just another bloody battle; another notch on his heavy blade; this triumph was like all the others that had come before it and those that would follow. They meant nothing to him.

The saying went that time would heal all wounds, but Kyle’s went much too deep. The scar tissue that had formed around those wounds was too substantial, and had formed an impenetrable wall around his heart.

For years after the loss of his wife and the kidnapping of a son he had never seen, the dragon had felt -so- much it had nearly killed him.
After her death Madailéin had come to him in dreams, beseeching the man to find their child. Every time he would awaken from them in a cold sweat; forlorn at the absence of her warmth he had imagined in those reveries.
Kyle had forged a path across the world of man searching for his son, but to no avail. At times he wondered if the babe still lived at all or, like his lover, had died long ago at the hands of the cruel witch that had betrayed him.

As the years passed the dreams of his wife turned to nightmares, as she would appear to him as a banshee screaming blame and hatred for her death and torture and the loss of their childe. Still he would awaken in misery; his heart broken, but still beating.

But the years flew like swift birds in the sky; no sight nor word of his son or the witch that had caused his misery. It wasn’t until the dragon could no longer see the face of his beautiful Madailéin in his minds eye, did the barrier around his heart come up and the empty hole in his chest to deepen.
How long since he’d seen her? Ten years? A hundred? The shifter had long since stopped counting.

And he’d never had another woman since gaining the knowledge of his wife’s death. At first the thought of betraying her in such a way was too much for the man to bear; that and having been forced for so long had removed any want he might have felt.

All the shifter wanted -now- was a drink.

Kyle tossed the decapitated head into the raging fire that had all but consumed the abandoned building and made his way slowly back towards town on foot. The dark brown leather pants were so stained with past splatters they looked to have been made that way. By the time the shifter walked through the doors of the club, the dampness on his dark jacket had dried and was virtually unnoticeable.

The band was loud and the patrons were rowdy. Kyle pushed his way through the throng of people until he got to the restroom; where he washed the blood from his hands and splashed the cool water over his face.
He paused, staring into a pair of empty eyes and a reflection he didn’t recognize anymore. Sighing, the dragon ran a hand over his cropped hair a few times and then inhaled; holding the breath as he ventured back out into the raucous bar area.

Sliding onto one of the heavy barstools, he folded his hands on the counter before him and cocked up to the pretty woman behind the bar. “Tequila.” He said plainly and glanced backwards over his shoulder towards the crowed dance floor.

The tune was earsplitting and rhythmic. In his opinion the band was screeching instead of screaming, and the pulse was too fast, but that didn’t stop the dancers from grinding hips and having fully clothed intercourse on the dusty wooden dance floor. He shook his head and turned back around, downing the liquor as if it were water and immediately pounding the little glass on the counter for another.

[Lillie Galleau]

Ah, the sounds of metal bands reaching the crescendo of their performance. Talk about some cyanide for a girl who's ears were her more sensitive than an ADHD dog.

Houston, we have cringing! In five...four...three...

Standing on the threshold of the bar, Lillie clutched her cane to her chest as she forced down the telltale headache that was beginning to pound in time with the music. What, was Colbie Cailat or Josh Groban so painful to listen to?

Man, one of her most loyal customers just HAD to be the big, bad owner of a grunge bar.
Oh well. It was time to buck up and get the job done.

Steeling her spine, she walked carefully through the milling dancers that surrounded the front door. With her hair piled up in a messy bun and trademark sunglasses on her face, she stood a part from the other customers waiting impatiently outside the building. Her bright yellow dress was stained with traces of paint and charcoal, little paintbrushes stuck out like antennae in her bun, and her fingers eternally tainted by pastels gone awry.

Aka, she was the perfect picture of an average artist. A starving artist, sure, but hey, she was alright with the stereotypes as long as her work was appreciated.

”Ma’am?” A voice cut through the music, so close to her ear that she jerked. Pointing her face in its direction, she pasted on a smile.

”Nope, ‘ma’am’s’ what people call my mama. I’m Lillie and I’m here to see Miss Moonblood about a painting?”

”Aw yeah, she mentioned that we was supposed to be lookin’ out for you, Miz Lillie,” The speaker’s heavily accented voice sounded again, and she caught the subtle twinge of relief as he spoke. Yep, a lot of people were uneasy around the blind lady with the sunny smile. They either saw her as off the reservation, or something soft to be pitied. Truthfully, she preferred the latter. ”My name’s Dallas, and I’m a bouncer here. If you’d let me take your arm, I’ll lead you into the room? Miz Moonblood’s tendin’ the bar t’night.”

Mmm, what a yummy accent. It was really too bad that her pride- as hidden as it may be- practically prickled at the idea of being led like an invalid. She’d had enough of that from her overprotective brothers, who were convinced that their youngest sister was some kind of talking piece of fine crystal.

Chin up and cane in front of her, she started walking with a shake of her head, ignoring Dallas’ surprised exclamation. Before he could stop her, she was walking head-on into the club.

And immediately wished she took him up on his arm. Oh, holy GUACAMOLE SAUCE, who the heck turned everybody into sardines?! Bad idea, bad idea!

As she made it passed the bouncer and into the room, Lillie found herself thrown into a sea of bodies. Some moved to the left, toward the music blasting from the speakers, and other surged to the right, toward the clinking glasses that she took to be the bar. Someone tripped on her cane, another bumped into her so hard that her glasses flew off of her face, and it felt like elephants were dancing a jig on her poor feet.

But- she’d look back on the ordeal and laugh about it later- it was the mere fact that there were people bumping into the painting that she held at her side that made her spur into action. Somebody was messing with her artwork, and that could not be tolerated!

”Time for some Xena,” She muttered to herself through a mouth that was pressed up against some random guy’s back. Ew, cigarette smoke on her tongue, how nice. With an inner war cry, she locked onto the sounds of glasses, shoved her arm up, despite the protests of those around her, so that the painting was above her head, and shoved herself forward.

”EXCUSE ME!” She bellowed. ”Blind lady coming through! Move outta the way before my attack dog Ivan eats your butt cheeks!” As the people around her jumped out of the way, no doubt looking for said bloodthirsty animal, Lillie made a beeline for those clinky sounds, sighing in relief as her cane met the thin legs of a bar stool. Somebody was banging something on the counter, but heck, she didn’t care; she’d reached the bar! On her own! GO HER!

Painting still held above her head and a triumphant smile on her face, she hooked her cane on the crook of her elbow and reached out, coming in contact with a very solid shoulder. Whoops, that wasn’t the bar counter. But heck, nothing was going to stop her triumphant mood! Even if the shoulder might belong to some mean, scraggly biker ready to eat her face off for coming into his personal bubble.

”Sorry!” Her hand moved to the left, connected with a head, and she jerked her fingers back. ”Sorry again! Dangit, I need to talk to Miss Moonblood about a painting!”

A cool voice sounded in front of her as the canvas above her head was plucked out of her hands. ”And you found her. Now stop smacking my customers before I let them smack you back. Dallas! C’mere and find the lady a seat while I fill orders.”

Behind her, the familiar twang of the bouncer sounded, as well as a few disgruntled curses, as someone was ejected from the bar. A minute later, she was perched happily on a bar stool, a very non-liquored Pepsi in front of her and listening to the newest screaming band to grace the night with their howling. Dallas was back at his post, Ilani was off filling someone’s glass- what was it with that banging…was someone smacking his shot glass against the counter? That wasn’t very nice- and she was left to sit there, grinning at no one in particular, because she’d braved a rowdy club.

Turning to the nearest body next to her- one of the many times that she wished she could see- she practically beamed at him/her. Given the thick scent, it was probably a 'he,' but she never liked to make solid judgements until she heard their voice.

"This is my first time in a real bar," She said happily, stirring at her drink. "I never imagined it would be so crowded!"

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

His intention was to get to the bottom of the bottle. Across from the dragon, on a shelf that held liquors of all different kinds, colors, and qualities, the bloated worm floating at the bottom of the golden liquid all but dared him like the Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.
‘Eat -me- and shrink to the size of a bug’. He imagined the worm would sing. ‘You could drown all your pain in this bottle of Tequila just like I did...’

Kyle shook his head and rubbed a weary hand across the bridge of his nose. He breathed in sharply through his nostrils and then let it out on a loud exhale as he pounded the little shot glass on the bar again. Fucking liquor wasn’t going to get the best of him. He’d show that tequila worm who was boss.
Besides... pain? Who said he was feeling pain? Who said he was feeling anything but the dire need to get balls to the wall trashed. He’d earned it tonight anyway. If that demon had been able to keep breathing, it would have torn a destructive path across the city until it was stopped. That was just the sort of lower level uncivilized creature that it was.
And while he was thinking about the filth, Kyle wondered how in the hell the thing had managed to get through the portal in the first place. Usually, demons of that nature weren’t allowed through, and if they even tried, they would have been slain as soon as the gateway guardians got a glimpse at their nasty drool covered mug.

The dragon made a mental note to report it to the counsel. Though he loathed the seat which he’d acquired through lineage and age; it was his duty to abide by the laws and obligations of the group; which was set up to keep the otherworlders in their place;
-Especially- when said otherworlders encroached on the natural rights of the humans in
-This- world.

Finally the bartender appeared before him again with the bottle of Tequila, and Kyle nodded and pushed the empty glass forward so that the human could refill it. His darkened azure eyes caught on the worm as she poured, and a whisper of a snarl came to his lips as he thought to himself, ‘I’m getting closer to you, my friend.’

The dragon lifted the amber liquid to his lips, but suddenly a hand on his shoulder, and then on his head caused him to spill most of the liquor down his chin. A growl rumbled in his throat when he slammed the shot glass on the counter and turned to face the blithe face of the brunette that had settled next to him.

Wiping the moisture off his chin with the back of his hand, Kyle furrowed his brow at her; unaware that those eerie eyes were unseeing.
“Yeah, well, I would give you a standing ovation, but....” He snorted and shook his head, turning back toward the bar and catching the bottle as the tender began to refill the little glass again. “Just leave it.” Kyle reached into his jeans and withdrew a few bills; enough to pay for the bottle and then some. “I’m going to finish it anyway. That worm is mine.”

He refilled his glass and downed it just as quickly; clearing his throat and then turning back to the bar virgin. A slight sniff toward her told him the dark soda in her glass was liquor free, and his brow wrinkled in confusion. “So you made it to the bar, why are you drinking soda? You could go through the drive through at McDonalds for that.”

He lifted the bottle and swirled it around to move the chubby worm. “Try some of this. After a few you wont care how crowded it is in here.”

[Lillie Galleau]

Boy, and there she’d been, actually thinking that the bar was some kind of Hell-hole. Sure, the could smell the ever-suspicious scent of blood from somewhere in the room, and the musk of sweat and…other things were a bit too much for her poor nose to handle…

But man, look at her! She was out on the town, moving through a bar like she was a normal person, talking to a random stranger and…smiling like an idiot. Delicate hearing let her know that the women sitting next to her were snickering, probably at her, and some of her happiness died away.

Just leave it to reality to make a girl deflate. Oh, hopefully she wasn’t looking like an Amazon off to war. In what she hoped was a subtle manner, she dipped her head, feeling around her cheeks for the telltale presence of dried paint. Whoof, no rough ridges; good to know. So why were the ladies snickering and whispering about ‘that lady?’

…And why did they suddenly go quiet when an unfamiliar voice sounded from beside her. Oh wow, had she just started off her first bar room conversation? HA, she was getting really good at this! Okay, she caught something about a worm, which made her nose wrinkle, warning her that the speaker might be missing a few screws, but, like a switch was thrown, she was back to her smiley self.

Smiley and closed eyed self. Oh, poo…she’d lost her glasses in the crowd. And they were her favorite pair of Oakleys, too, with those little crystals on the sides. But they really only served to make her feel…normal. Even though she knew she was anything but.

There really was nothing, nothing in the world that made her more uncomfortable, than the sounds of pity and horror that people made when they saw her eyes. Her brothers liked to say that they were jealous; that she looked like some kind of Goddess come to life...but they were her brothers. Now she understood why the women next to her were twittering.

Now, if only she could figure out why they’d suddenly shut up. The growl next to her caused goosebumps to pop up along her arms and neck, and she rubbed her hands over them absently. Letting her eyes drift closed, she turned her face toward him once again.

“Oh no, no standing ovation is necessary,” She chirped happily, taking a sip of her soda through the tiny straw. “Genuflection is always appreciated, but it might be a bit crowded in here for that.”

She scooched a bit closer to the floating voice next to her, intent on hearing what he was saying, and not the loud voices on her other side. It seemed that the formerly whispering women had just met up with their dates, and the squealing was enough to make her closed eye twitch.

Underneath the harsh pounding of the music, she could hear the telltale gurgle of liquid as it was dangled in front of her. Following the noise, she carefully reached a hand out, closed her fingers around the bottle neck- oh, please say that Mr. Grumbly Voice wasn’t about to eat her hand for it…darn, now she wished she’d listened to her brothers when they described their escapades- and tilted it toward her. She leaned forward, taking an experimental sniff.

And promptly pulled back with a loud ‘WHOOF!’ Waving her hand in front of her nose, she grimaced.

”I’m sorry, I’m going to have to stick with my soda,” She said with a laugh. ”I draw the line at drinking things that remind me of ammonia and rotting fish. Do you really like that stuff? Whoof, I think it burned off the inside of my nose!”

As the words came out, she paused. Okay, so she was actually breaking out of tradition. She was in a bar, talking to a stranger, being happy that she hadn’t gotten squished in the milling crowd behind them. Why not go all the way? She’d always been the girl wrapped up in squishy cotton…she was certainly old enough to try a bit of the unknown.

”On second thought,” She said suddenly, pushing her soda away. “I think I will try some. You can’t be at a bar without having something that’ll give you liver disease, right? Don’t worry, I won’t steal your bottle.” With a little wave at the bartender, she grinned and pointed to the side, where she hoped her new friend was still sitting. In less than a minute, she was sitting cozy with a glass and a bottle of her own. With a salute and a chirpy ‘SALUD!’ she tipped the little shot, letting the liquid slide down her throat.

And immediately wished she hadn’t. “HOLY GUACAMOLE SAUCE!” Waving her hands in front of her face, as if warding off a swarm of bees, she gagged. “Ga…aaah…aaah! My God! Whoof, whoof…air…holy crap…” She wiped at her eyes, pounded a fist on the counter for a good measure, then inhaled a squeaking breath.

After a minute, she turned back toward the stranger, managing to talk through a slightly strangled voice. “Well, thank you for warning me about the battery fluid. I think I’m going to shrivel up and die now.”

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

A ghost of a smile crept over Kyle’s face at the woman’s attitude, but the expression faded quickly when he realized she held her eyes closed even as the laughter died away and her hand awkwardly reached for the bottle he held out to her.
Blind? And in a place like this?
No wonder it was her first time; venturing into such a rowdy establishment with a companion would have been a thrill, an adventure; but without an attendant was just plain dangerous.

Forget the ungodly amount of other world activity in the streets of New Orleans lately, the human criminals that plagued the Big Easy were just as plentiful, and in some cases, just as treacherous.

The dragon had the urge to take the slight female by the shoulders and shake some sense into her...but then again...what did he care?
Shaking his head the shifter arched an eyebrow at her reaction to the smell of the Tequila, bringing the bottle to his nose and taking a long whiff. It smelled like Eden to him. It smelled like a good buzz and a hopefully dreamless sleep.
The liquor was an expensive Mezcal variety with a smooth rainy aroma and the after taste of cactus. No matter the smell, taste, or price; it did its job.

Watching as the vivacious blind woman seemed to have an internal struggle with whether she should, or should not partake in the ‘smelly’ refreshment; Kyle let a laugh loose when she decided to go for it, and then nearly had a conniption fit when she found the taste worse than the smell.

He should have felt horrible for influencing her to drink when her circumstances where already precarious; but then again, his concern for the human was all but nonexistent.

“It’s not as bad when you cut the taste.” He explained serenely; signaling the bartender over with a Matrix style wave of his fingers and then leaning in to yell over the noise. “Will you bring us a bottle of hot sauce and some sliced lemons?”

The woman obliged quickly and with a smile that only drew a nod of thanks from the shifter, Kyle poured out another shot for himself and then one for the female; dashing a bit of the red-orange condiment on the thin skin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Put this on your hand first, and then lick it off right before you down the drink.”
The dragon gently pulled her hand towards him and put the small bottle between her fingers and then pushed the shot glass over so it brushed the other hand.

“After you lick, toss the shot back and then suck on one of the lemons on the plate to the left of your bottle.”
As if to reiterate this process, Kyle licked his hand, tossed back the Tequila and slammed the little glass on the counter before grabbing a wedge of the yellow citrus fruit and popping it between his teeth. The sound of his sucking on the tart lemon was as audible as he could make it for the female. After, he smacked his lips a little and shuttered from head to tow, letting out a low rumble of satisfaction.
“Why crawl into a hole and shrivel when drinking yourself into oblivion is so much sweeter?”

[Lillie Galleau]

“Oh, huzzah, hot sauce. As if my tongue isn’t about to fall off…oh, wow, it’s numb. My tongue is actually numb.” Poking her tongue against the inside of her lip experimentally, she couldn’t help but laugh while her free hand came up to thump on her burning chest. Now that the initial fire had stopped doing an inferno dance in her throat, the heat from the potent liquor made a nice little ball of warmth sit in her belly. She felt a bit fuzzy, tingly, and absently wondered if all those stories about drinking on an empty stomach were true, but somehow…she ceased to care.

Lillie Galleau, Good Girl Extraordinaire, was out on the town and drinking tequila. She’d always thought that, when she’d finally cut loose, it’d be with a bunch of girlfriends and a half naked man or two…but heck, she’d take what she could get.

Anyway, she was already half mortified at her earlier squawking. If she ended up getting dragged to a strip joint and let her hand drift in the wrong direction, she just might die of heat stroke.

“Oh, and I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” She started a bit when an unfamiliar hand took hers, but feeling the smooth coolness of the bottle a moment later, she immediately relaxed. And then proceeded to snicker at the obnoxious suckling noises he was making, obviously for her benefit. “I’m Lillie, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.” A bit awkwardly, she held out her free hand.

“I dunno. Why do you drink battery acid and compare them to Krispy Cream doughnuts?” Came the chirped reply. And alright, call her a damn pervert, but…was it wrong to feel all kinds of tingly when he let out that rough sound of contentment? Whoof, starting a different kind of fire, there.

Darn libido. No, she was not going to start drooling…oh heck, was she drooling already? Cue some covert chin-swiping, as she quickly lifted the shot glass up. “Alrighty, so you lick, swig it back, smoosh a lemon between your teeth, then sound like you’re having an orgasm. Great!”

Aw, wait, she hadn’t meant to say that part out loud! Crap…she’d blame it on the liquor. Heck yeah, she’d blame it on the liquor. Maybe he hadn’t even heard? Oh, bleh, whatever. She was there to have fun!

With a loud ‘SALUD!’ she licked the Tabasco sauce off her wrist, downed the shot, did another bout of counter-pounding, then popped the lemon slice in her hand into her mouth. She clamped her jaw around the tart fruit, making herself look like a five year old with an orange peel, then popped it out with a loud ‘KWAAAAH!’

Not exactly an orgasmic sound, but heck…at least she was trying, right?

“Okay, so maybe that was a bit better,” She said, giggling at the sound of her voice, which was becoming a very high soprano. Ooh, that fuzzy feeling was getting a bit stronger, and she liked it. It was like having some kind of weird, burning high that made all the sounds in the room more pleasant than they were before. Even the music sounded pretty!

“Let’s go again!” She sang, and made another happy noise when the bartender absently re-filled her shot. Repeating the process, she lapped up the hot sauce, downed her shot, and inhaled the lemon that she managed to snag after a few seconds of patting the counter. Man, now she knew why her brothers loved to go out on Friday nights. This was so much fun!

Quite suddenly, the music changed from a pounding rock beat to- wow, call her surprised- the ever-famous ‘YMCA.’ A voice sounded through the speakers, declaring that the song was dedicated to a loyal worker, along with the half naked dancers that pranced up onto the stage, and Lillie clapped her hands along with the crowd. She couldn’t exactly see what was going on, but the atmosphere was charged with amusement.

Hopping off of her stool, she reached over to tug at her new friend’s arm. Ooh, nice jacket, there.
“Hey, are you dancing? You gotta dance to the YMCA. Ooh, I wonder if I could go onto the dance floor! Poo, maybe not…the crowd ate my sunglasses. What if they eat my toes, too? Well, guess this’ good. Nobody take my chair! Y, M, C, A! Lalalalalala…Y, M, C, A!”

Jumping up and down to the tune, she moved her arms to the commands of the song, laughing the whole time.

And she’d always wondered what kind of a drunk she’d be, three glasses in the hole or no. Some people got depressed, some people got sleepy…and Lillie? Lillie became the giggling version of a happy-go-lucky five year old.

Five minutes later, the song ended, the rock was back on, and Lillie was collapsing into her stool with a tired sigh.
"Whoof, all this bar stuff is a work out. But heck with that. Hey, Tequila Guy; you wanna leave your bottle for a few minutes and hit that dance floor with me? I can hear it from here, and it sounds like fun!"

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

The dragon didn’t usually spend more than a few moments with any given human. Companionship wasn’t something he needed, or desired, in most cases. The shifter had been a solitary creature for so long that when he was forced into the company of another, every moment was a battle to keep his calm. To say the beast was easily annoyed and that his temper was... well, fiery, was quite the understatement.

It was unavoidable these days, really; being alone for very long. Even when you hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign outside of your hotel room door, eventually, they would come knocking. Humans were like that. They lacked certain survival instincts that most shifters had; a little sixth sense that told them to move on, that avoiding this man was for their own good. They ignored that internal intuition that made their skin raise with chilled bumps, or the fine hairs on the back of their neck to shift.

This human female was no different...but...the dragon was finding it hard to keep the corner of his lip from edging up into what resembled a smile. Perhaps it was her absurd familiarity towards him; her altogether quirky nature that reminded him of someone of long ago. Someone he’d thought he’d forgotten.

“My name is Kyle.” The shifter told her in that deep throaty rumble, and the hint of the old Celtic brogue still touched his voice. His forehead creased when azure eyes looked down at the proffered hand, as he usually didn’t yield to such common human mannerisms, but he found his hand drifting up of its own accord to lightly take the smooth pale fingers into his own and was surprised by subtlest calluses on the tips. Ah yes; his gaze drifted up to the messy pile of hair held atop her head by brushes and the flashes of vibrant hue on her sunshine colored dress. A painter.

His face was a mask of stoicism as he waited for her to try his suggestion, and then a peculiar amused expression stole over his usually empty expression at her quirky comment. Had he done that? Made a noise as if in the throes of passion? He tilted his head sideways as she suddenly flushed, and then covered up the flush with the lick, down, pound, suck process. He had to chuckle aloud at this, shaking his head as the animated little brunette finished with a flourish and then wanted to go again.
At this Kyle was only too happy to indulge; repeating the same process as she even though he didn’t really need the sauce and lemon accompaniment.

The shifter was taken aback when the music suddenly changed and Lillie felt comfortable enough, despite his lack of enthusiasm, to tug on his arm in invitation to dance. Kyle glowered and shifted uncomfortably in his stool, thankful that just as soon as the invitation was made the woman had changed her mind already and was content to bounce happily to the brainless song right there on the other side of her chair. Dancing was one thing that the shifter couldn’t do; and he was just as happy not to even try. It was a senseless activity, and one that involved intimacy that the dragon was in no way at ease with. Truth was; that type of relaxed movement did not come easily for the man. He was far too tense; always ready to react to violence.

He was content to watch the woman jump up and down, clapping and singing; and it made his stormy blue eyes soften a bit at the corners, and the ghost smile to return to his face. How odd; this sightless human. She had far more daring than most that he’d known.

When the song was over Lillie was out of breath and a bead of moisture appeared on her brow. As she had almost toppled the seat as well as the intoxicated man on the stool next to her, Kyle grasped her quietly by the upper arms and righted her; as much to keep her from falling as it was landing in his lap; which would have been just...awkward...right?

Her second invitation to dance surprised Kyle as much as the first; but he didn’t have a chance to refuse before she was leading them blindly towards the throng of dancers.
The dragon’s first instinct was to simply stop. Become an immovable wall. Turn back to his stool with or without her.
But her face was far too beseeching; the smile as innocent and bright as the sun in a cloudy sky. The hard, heartless shifter found he could not refuse her.

With a heavy sigh of defeat Kyle took the lead; guiding her safely to the middle of the crowded floor. As if the dragon put out an air of menace, most simply moved out of his way; those that did not were easily pushed aside in order to make room for them. No one argued; for the intense expression he wore warned the humans he was in no mood to be disputed.

Finally, when they had a circle of space around them; Kyle stopped abruptly; glancing at Lillie with a bewildered look that she couldn’t see. “We are here on the dance floor...so...dance.” He didn’t move. Simply ordered her to do what she’d brought him out here to do. He was a wall. An immovable wall...

(( Hope you don’t mind the little bit with her ‘pulling him to the dancefloor’. He wouldn’t have gone otherwise, seriously. LOL. If you don’t like it, I can easily edit that bit out, okay? ))

[Lillie Galleau]

((Are you kidding? I LOVE IT! Hehe…Kyle’s in for it now. LOL ))

Oh, holy guacamole, she was moving! She was moving towards the dance floor! She had a dance partner moving her toward the dance floor! Grinning like some kind of weird, half-buzzed Cheshire Cat, Lillie trotted into the throng of people. At one point, she knew she’d been the one leading, Mr. Smokey Voice, aka Kyle, being tugged behind her. But, somehow in their journey, she found herself hopping after him.

And, in the end, became quite happy about it. At first, the thought of dancing seemed like a good idea. She couldn’t see if she were making a fool of herself, she wasn’t going out there alone, Nickelback was blasting one of her favorite songs, and let’s face it; she was out to have some fun. As the dancers closed around them, however, unfamiliar bodies bumping against her and hands reaching out- whether by accident or with purpose- to brush her back and neck.

“Whoof, hello! Don’t touch me there, you poop! Okay, maybe this was a bad idea. Dammit, Lillie, you and your bad girl urges. Oh, please say he’s not going to chuck me through a wall for this… Hello, Kyle! Don’t mind me! Just think of me as a really nice looking growth. Yay, dancing!” As one particular hand came brushing against her butt, she proceeded to practically smoosh herself against the poor guy’s back.

She was jostled, bumped into, accidentally tripped, feet stepped on the delicate flaps of her sandals…and then nothing. Her eyes popped open in surprise as she suddenly found herself standing on the dance floor, with what seemed like empty space around them.

Holy guacamole sauce, how had that happened? Had they stumbled into some kind of weird Dancing Twilight Zone? Did she smell bad? Had he led her into an alcove, or something. Ooh, the tingly feelings at that idea were almost too hard to ignore, there. The thought of being so lusted after, that she was led into some hidden place near the stage; an innocent heiress being pursued by the darkly handsome rake…

Oh wow, she really had to lay off the romance novels; she was starting to sound like some kind of perverted old lady. And cue some very amused snickering here.

But no, they hadn’t just stumbled into a hidden part of the dance floor, or been whisked away to an alcove. The sounds of surprised gasps, some very unpleasant whacks from bodies hitting the floor, and quickly scuttling feet made her think that, perhaps Mr. Smokey Voice wasn’t being very nice to his fellow dancers.

Not that she cared a lick. Yay, she had room to dance now!

“Wow, Kyle. Are you by any chance a bodyguard? Or a really intimidating pirate? Man, I could definitely use your help during Mardi Gras or Christmas time down at the Gallery…EEP. Er, okay. Start dancing. Yes, Sir!” The last part of her statement was punctuated by a clumsy salute, grin re-appearing onto her face. The speakers above her head began to play ‘Burn it to the Ground,’ the beat leaking into her head and, like a switch had been thrown, Lillie began dancing.

Well, if one could call having a seizure ‘dancing.’

Having been a child of the 90’s, who had known nothing but Happy Days and other family show reruns before she’d lost her sight, it was quite natural for Lillie to fall into the dances she was familiar with. Where the women around them gyrated and swiveled to the music, the painter simply closed her eyes, raised her hands over her head…and proceeded to a mix between a chicken dance and some kind of hopping, Irish jig-like shuffle.

Thank God that Kyle’s mere demeanor was keeping the dancers at bay. If they were too close, they’d probably have gotten caught up in a whirlwind of arms, legs and butt shaking.

Laughing and smiling the whole time, Lillie danced her little heart out, singing along with the songs she knew. A few minutes later, hot and having the best time of her life, she reached out toward where her new friend should be standing. Her fingers poked a chest- wow, maybe he was a bodyguard…or maybe bodybuilder?- and quite suddenly, her smile faded. Wait a minute. While it was a very nice chest…it was a still one! Taking a step closer, she waved her arms around his own.

“Hey!” She called out. “You’re not moving! Why aren’t you moving? Don’t you like the song? C’mon, you gotta dance, since you were nice enough to bring me out here. Let’s go!”

Without waiting for an answer, she snagged his hand and tugged on his arm, using the long appendage to twirl herself around. “It’s not like I can see you if you look weird, anyway. C’mon, Kyle! Let loose!”

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

Kyle allowed a snort of amusement to escape him when Lillie posed the question of his status as a body guard. He’d never really thought about it before, but considering all the humans he kept safe from harm, he supposed the title was quite fitting. He might have even accepted the designation with pride, if, in all his years of guarding bodies he hadn’t lost the concern for the sanctity of life and gained an obsession with cruelty. The job was more about killing other world scum than anything else; and, many times, how painfully he could accomplish that feat.

“Something like that.” He grumbled; more under his breath than in acknowledged response to the female, and crossed his burly arms across his broad chest. He supposed for now, he was -her- body guard, for as uncharacteristic as it was for the dragon; he’d taken on the role as a sentinel for the sightless human. At least while they were in the rowdy club.

The heavy beat of a song started, followed by the metallic squeal of the guitar. Kyle didn’t know the song, but found it entrancing. The thunderous rhythm echoed in his chest and the pulse at his neck and the words rang true as they swirled around in his head.
The fire-breathing creature inside him found the lyrics humorous; for many times after a battle he had done just that...burned it to the ground.

As if the words weren’t amusing enough, then there came Lillie’s fitful ‘dancing’. The slender woman brought her hands up as if grabbing for the stars and her torso twitched and swiveled like one of his prey’s last dying convulsions. The shifter tried not to smile. He tried to remain as stoic as always; to not be moved by this sprite’s contagious behavior, but found himself mystified by the woman’s blithe smile despite her obvious disadvantage. Laughter glittered in the man’s gem blue eyes, and a smile tugged on his lips.

As the songs and dancing went on, Kyle stiffened when Lillie’s nimble fingers found his chest. His muscles were tense; a coiled snake just waiting to strike out if something were to provoke it. And she had provoked it.
The dragon took step backward; fists curled at his sides though he had no intension of hurting the woman. It was simply a defensive pose that was ingrained within the shifter; something as second nature to the former slave as breathing.

But this one... this woman was an adversary the likes Kyle had never seen. She touched him as if she’d known him for years; that ever infectious grin spread across her pretty face as she used his own limb to twirl her around.
The dragon was dumbstruck; his mouth going slack and his eyebrows rose in disbelief as she proceeded to whirl herself around with his outstretched hand.

“But...you brought me out here...” Kyle murmured in bewilderment, still merely standing there until she twirled herself once more; this time tumbling into his chest. His breath was ragged, and for a brief time he held her there; his forehead knotted in confusion as he stared down at her face wishing she would open her eyes so he could see them. Her hand was flush against the place his heart lived; that empty cavern of gnarled vines and thorns.
His heartbeat rumbled like a storm behind his ribcage, and Kyle wondered for a fleeting moment if her remaining senses were more finely attuned to make up for the lack of sight. Could she hear it pounding so? Feel it?


And then... his leg began to move just a bit, followed by the slightest jerk of his hip. The rhythm worked its way through his limbs like a poison, and before long; he was convulsing just as she had been to Nickleback. “I don’t dance...” The dragon rumbled at her even as he shuddered and jerked to the music.

[Lillie Galleau]

So, there she was; out on the town, having her first drink since she was fourteen and having the time of her life. She was dancing with a stranger with the sexiest voice she’d ever heard, there was nobody laughing at her, no brothers waiting in the sidelines to pile drive someone into the next century, and no worries. The tequila was making her brain wonderfully muzzy- yes, she was a lightweight; three shots in the hole and she was turning into Lillie the Giggling Idiot- and the music was doing wonders to loosening up all those previously tensed muscles.

Clasping Kyle’s hand in hers, she continued to use him as a living man-post, whooshing back and forth between twirls, to awkward plies. Nickelback changed to some hip hop band that she didn’t recognize, the sounds of clicking heels and whirling clothes intensified to the light beat.

And then, an unwary dancer that who either missed her escort’s glowering face or just wasn’t sane enough to care, came tumbling into their bubble, managing to hip chuck her right smack into her friend.

“Oh holy guacamole sauce, WATCH IT, BUSTER! Hello, Kyle! Still no dancing? C’mon, don’t make me whine you to death. I’m dangerous when I’m whiney.” Tilting her head up to face him, she beamed in his direction. He was so darn tall that her cheek only came up to mid-chest, and she resisted the urge to demand that he shrink.

Oh wow. If that solid brick wall that she’d like to call a chest had been all happy in its muscled glory before, when her fingers chanced to poke at it, now she was wondering if stone could be warm, nice smelling and sporting a healthy heartbeat.

Slowly, her happiness-fogged brain began to realize one very important fact: she was now, as innocently as it was, practically smooshed up against his chest. Her hand rested over his heart, which seemed to jump start into some very fast hammering, his chest expanded into a surprised breath…and holy crap, she was flush up against Smokey Voice himself.

Whoof. No, no, she was not going to either melt, start panting or faint. She could definitely keep a tight rein on that stupid libido and all of its ‘Victorian romantic’ tendrils. All she would do is take a deep breath, keep on smiling, pretend that he didn’t smell good and, despite the granite slab thing going on, felt nice—

Aw, poo. Oh well; she was having a good time at a bar. Why not let herself have some tinglies about a random guy? It wasn’t like she was about to ask the guy to marry her, for crying out loud.

And then, as if to save the day, she felt his leg start to move. The vibration carried through her as she made to pull away, making her pause in surprise, and slowly intensified, until she could feel him moving to the beat of the music. Just like that, all of her previous awkwardness seemed to poof into thin air.

“Oh yay, you’re dancing!” She chirped happily, taking a step back to give him some room to move. “Hey, don’t deny it; you’re dancing! NOW it’s a party! Woohoo!”

As if following his lead, she went back to her crazy dance, full of half robot moves, half monkey dancing and a good load of butt wiggling. With a laugh, she caught his hands with hers and used him to twirl her around before pausing.

“This would be the time when I’d offer to twirl you, but I don’t think my arms reach that high. Oh well. How could it eeend this waaaay…don’t leave meee…” She sang to the music and let go of one of his hands, using the other to tug him around in a strange hop-dance.

Man, she had to get this guy a gift basket after this! What other red blooded man could put up with her very non-sexy dancing?

Like a blur, song after song went by, each quicker and heavier than the ones before it. Then, as if out of nowhere, the ever famous Howling Hour- the pride and joy of The Pit; the more obnoxious guitar, the better- was kicked off by the heavy, screaming voice of a very unhappy metal band, marking the time as midnight.

Though they weren’t directly next to a speaker, Lillie practically cringed as the music came crashing through the speakers. Stopping in mid-monkey dance, she covered one sensitive ear with her free hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Oh holy mother’a God…what IS that? Music, or someone going through un-medicated surgery? AACK.”

Wow, midnight already…which meant she’d been dancing for a while! She’d actually spent a night out on the town! And…and, holy guacamole, her feet hurt. Absently, she tugged at the hand still clasped in hers, a slightly less happy smile on her face as she turned toward him.

“I’m sorry, but I think it’s time for me to leave.” She said, attempting to pitch her voice over the music. With another grimace, she pointed in the direction of the bar. “That was really fun, Kyle! You made my first bar-night a great one. I just…music’s too loud. Makes my eyeballs kind of want to explode. Oh, wait, can't go yet; I promised that your bottle wouldn’t get stolen, so I’m gonna keep that bet. Can we go back to the bar now? Or do you want to stay here?”

Oh please, say he wanted to go back to the bar, she thought with another wince, as the guitars continued to scream alongside its master. Man, talk about a party kill-joy. Ilani Moonblood and her darn scream-o bands.

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

Kyle felt the music. His body reacted to it. But he never ‘let loose’; his muscles were still tense even as Lillie beamed up at him with a look that would have melt a weaker man.
But he was no man. He was a killer. A dragon. A curse.
Her finger pads danced against his chest for a longer moment; and the shifter watched curiously as her thoughts played out across her delicate face.
He drew in a heavy breath and his eye brows furrowed; forcing himself to look away.
Those thoughts were hers; private. He had no right to try and read them like a book.
Anyway he should be keeping his attentions on the crowd around them. He had been a warrior far too long and could not break the habit of sizing up his next challenger. His next meal.

His face was impassive; azure eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as they swept over the sweat dampened bodies thrusting and grinding against one another to the rhythm. His attention was torn from his sentry as Lillie caught his hand again and twirled and twirled. For a moment he closed his eyes and let his body sway backwards just a bit. The hazy hum in his head from the tequila was nice. He wanted some more.
It felt like he was falling; like he was free from...everything for just a moment.

But then his eyes came open to watch Lillie again. A squeal had parted her lips and her face danced with happiness. The dragon almost felt sorrow; for it had been so long since he had peace like that he couldn’t remember how to feel it. His heart remained cold and indomitable; though at least there was a tinge of something; grief.
It reminded the man he was still...human. Partially so anyway.

When the god awful squealing of a metal claws across a steel guitar blasted through the loudspeakers; Kyle winced as well. His expression of annoyance and pain mirrored the females, and he quickly nodded when she announced it was time to go home; mentally reminding himself to use words since she could see his quiet gestures. Curse the moon; he hadn’t talked so much in ages.

“I think I’ll finish my bottle on the deck outside.” He leaned down to speak clearly in her ear. Not a shout; but firm and comprehensible; the dragon always had a commanding drawl. The challenge of getting to that worm was a whisper from the devil on his shoulder. He wasn’t ready to concede. The shifter meant to sleep soundly tonight and the only way to do that was drown his conscience and his reveries. Besides, his muscles were beginning to unwind and the hum in his head was very pleasant.

“Or, if I should have to see you to a cab; I will just leave it for now. I’ve never had a problem with thievery before. The bottle will be there, and the stool will be vacant, because that is how I left it.”

An eyebrow arched over his flickering eyes and a wily smile showed the fangs in his lower gums. Good thing she couldn’t see. Oh the ego of a monstrous dragon.

[Lillie Galleau]

Whoof and bow-bow little doggies, did he just HAVE to go and talk in that deep, dark little voice? Maybe she should mention that she had a thing for accents and gravely, he-man tones…but then again, who wanted to get walked into a wall? The crowd on the dance floor had started to thin out, as the music became more head-banger and less grind-up-against-my-butt, and Lillie found it quite easy to find her way back to the bar.

And away from the scream-o music blasting near the stage. Wow, that stuff was potent. Give her tequila straight up any day; anything but having to listen to that racket for more than five minutes at a time.

Somehow, she believed his statement, as slightly egotistical as it sounded, and point became fact when her hand met the empty space of her abandoned barstool. Damn, was there something about Smokey Voice that she should concentrate on? Was he some kind of bad ex-con, who nobody wanted to mess with?

Well, either way, his ‘mwahahaha’ attitude was definitely appreciated that night. With another smile, she leaned forward to pat his arm affectionately.

“Don’t worry, Kyle, I won’t make you leave your bottle. Who knows how jealous that worm will get, and decide to give itself to some random alcoholic out of spite? I just live five blocks over toward Tulane, so I’m fine. It was great to meet you!”

Finally releasing him, she snagged a hold of her cane and tapped it a bit experimentally around the stools. The crowd had probably dimmed for the next hour, giving way to the bar’s more hardcore customers. The Howling only lasted until 1:30, and then it was back to pounding music and dance floor sex.

Which meant that this was the perfect opportunity to hightail it out of the bar before it got too crowded. But, before she could stop herself, she proceeded to whirl around, find his arm again with her hand, and give him a quick hug around the waist.

After a second, she immediately backed off, remembering how washboard stiff he’d gotten at her ever poking finger. “Sorry, don’t take that the wrong way. I just hug people when I’m happy. You’re a great guy, Kyle! Thanks for making my first bar night a blast. See you around!”

With that, she turned to walk carefully toward the door. She was tired, she was ridiculously happy, that nice tequila-buzz was still making her head and belly warm…

And she was getting half-tackled by a very enthusiastic bar owner, who grabbed her by the shoulders seemingly out of nowhere to pull her into a hug.
“Lillie!” Ilani crowed in her ear, oblivious to the surprised jerk that followed. “Babe, where the hell did you go? I took that painting into the back room so I could get a look at it, and then you just up and disappeared! What happened? Did somebody mess with you? Dallas, get your fine ass over here and bring the club!”

With a laugh, Lillie just shook her head, keeping her eyes closed. “No, Moonie, I’m fine. I just did some dancing with that really nice guy over—“

“Oh, okay, good. Damn, woman, I freaking love the painting! I have no idea where Beaumont gets her ideas, but this one…it’s just beautiful. Oh, and next week’s Tyson’s birthday, right? Tell him he has to get his butt in here so we can throw naked women at him.” Like the mini-whirlwind that she was, the bar owner’s mind jumped from topic to topic, and Lillie felt herself fighting to catch up. Before she knew it, she was being dragged back toward the bar.

“Oh, Dally, there you are. Forget the butt kicking, you gotta see this instead,” The bouncer’s familiar voice sounded near her ear as he directed her toward a stool, and the flurry of crinkling paper sounded under the harsh crash of music. As her painting was unfolded, a few of the bar-goers murmured in appreciation. Knowing her friend, Ilani was probably holding the darn thing above her head and demanding that everyone pay tribute.

Ducking her head, Lillie couldn’t help the little twinge of pride, especially as the bar owner went on to threaten people to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over it until she was happy. The scene was one of her favorites; some kind of Old World Celtic village at night, the moon bright overhead the wooden houses, while a dragon curled itself around the stars above. The scales were almost as dark as the sky, and the eyes…even in her mind, she could still see the figures eyes, almost human-like in its compassion. Most of the time, her dreams were focused on war, hardened warriors and bloodshed. The dragon had been a welcome reprieve, and she was glad that it had sold to someone who appreciated it.

Grinning at the sounds of a hammer against the wall behind the bar, she laughed at the bar owner’s declaration that ‘Doobie the Dragon’ would stay tacked on the wall forever, and anyone who threw anything at it would get neutered.

“Okay, now I really have to leave,” She said with another laugh, as Ilani returned to demand some ‘boogying’ on the dance floor. How anyone could ‘boogey’ to that racket was beyond her, but her friend wasn’t known as the sanest cabbage in the patch. Turning down Dallas’ offer of escort and a few of the well meaning biker-regulars’ promise to ‘show her a good time on their hog,’ she waved at the people around the bar- was Kyle still sitting there? Oh well, if he was, the little oomf in the wave was for him- and turned around to mosey on home.

((Maha, I hope Lani’s painting was alright. I thought that maybe Kyle would recognize his ‘other self’ and that’d lead to the two-face deal in her shop. If that doesn’t work, lemme know and I’ll change it. ;3 ))

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

So the little firecracker thought he would abandon a sheep to the wolves in exchange for the drink. A smirk of amusement came to Kyle’s face, and he crossed his arms casually over his front. Leaning back against the darkly knotted wooden countertop; the dragon regarded the human with curiosity. She was small, but fearless; delicate, but amazingly sprightly. He had to shake his head at the thought of her stick tapping and poking her way back after the way the Tequila was obviously affecting her. He could easily see her drifting with a hiccup, a giggle, and a blithe smile out into oncoming traffic. The dragon shook his head and the image faded as well as the smirk. What kind of man; let alone bodyguard would allow that kind of fate to befall her?
Those bitches were spiteful, mischievous creatures and he wouldn’t trust them to see her safely home for anything.

Before he had pause to argue with the woman, she was attaching herself to his middle and Kyle’s breath was stolen from him. Her touch was so familiar; completely harmless yet utterly intoxicating. A heavy inhalation of air and the jasmine and spices scent of Lillie filled his nose, and made his grip tighten on the countertop to hold onto his sanity and his balance.
What in the heavens was she doing to him?

Kyle held his breath until she released him and the female hastily explained away the embrace as the shifter let out a heavy sigh of relief. She remarked that he was a ‘great guy’ and Kyle shook his head. She just didn’t know him very well yet.
However, curiously enough, her confession that his company had been a blast left a balmy sensation in the core of his chest which was extremely satisfying.
He grasped his bottle while considering the foreignness; bringing it to his lips for a nice long pull. To hell with glasses, hot sauce and lemons. He was almost there; and considering the fuzziness in his head, he was almost there too.

The bottle still in hand he stood up from his stool to follow Lillie, but watched as she was intercepted by the excitable dark haired woman that Kyle had briefly seen her chatting with before.
His sapphire eyes were narrowed in interest as he watched the little woman direct Lillie back into a stool while she uncovered what appeared to be a painting; and his breath hitched in his throat as it was held high over the artist’s head for display.

The village was just as he remembered it before its obliteration; sleepy, comfortable; with thatched roofs that he’d helped to built with his own hands and smoke rising from rustic chimneys as the occupants paid no mind to the monster that slept peacefully in the clouds above them.
And the dragon...a sinuous combination of reptile and feline; with dark iridescent scales that shone black in some lights, blue in other, and turquoise when the moon shone on it just right. The eyes; his eyes, stared back at him with an intensity he hadn’t felt in ages.

Kyle’s severe gaze shifted back to the artist.
What kind of magic was this? What kind of game were the Fates playing now? Were they telling him that the witch was here...that his son was here?
Kyle knew he had to see more of this woman’s artwork. He was sure that the answers he sought lie in the ability that dripped from her fingers.

Tossing a few more wadded bills on the counter the dragon took his bottle and pushed his way through the crowd to the door. He was stopped by a firm hand on his arm, and the shifter turned back around with an intense glare. “Don’t worry friend. We’re not driving.” He growled and shook the container so that the little bit of clear liquid sloshed around the bottom. The bouncer nodded, letting loose his hold and Kyle took off after Lillie.

Approaching her with deliberate noise so that she wasn’t frightened, Kyle fell into to step at her side; close, but consciously keeping a bit of space between them. “I was wrong...” He began abruptly, in a tone of voice that held forced casualness though he was thankful the blind woman couldn’t see the gravity in his face. “My stool was taken, but thankfully they left the battery acid.” Kyle hated lying, but felt as though his charge was worth the slight dishonesty. “Do you want some company?”

The shifter knew that outright telling her that he wanted to help her home would be a mistake. She was much two proud for that. As well, a random inquiry about the painting might be too forward; hinder the chance he might find out more about what the Fates were trying to point out. The dragon couldn't risk that.

[Lillie Galleau]

Oh, freaking, MAN! Walking down the street toward home, Lillie felt as if her feet were on clouds and her head up in the stars. She’d just been on a dance floor, drank her very first shot of tequila, been propositioned by bikers, AND her painting was well loved. Stopping at an intersection filled with late night traffic, she couldn’t help the little happy dance that took over.

Sure, she might look like she was doing a jig on the side of the road, but she couldn’t help it. Boy, was it exhilarating to break out of a routine!

“Gah, I can’t wait to tell Tyson. He’s never gonna believe it!” She said to herself, giddy and leaning slightly against the lamp post next to her. After the words came out of her mouth, she paused, picturing her well meaning co-manager. After hearing her current tale, there was no doubt that he’d laugh, say ‘you go girl,’ and immediately get on the phone with her brothers, tattling on her like the man-child that he was.

With a martyred sigh, she shook her head. The last thing she needed was to have her five older brothers descend on the Gallery. Ever since the accident that took the lives of her parents and her sight, they had closed ranks around her, as if she were some delicate flower to be protected. She loved her brothers and, to an extent, loved the attention that they lavished on her…but sometimes, they could be stifling.

Yeah, definitely keeping tonight to herself. So sad; she was so proud of the fact that she’d finally broken out of her shell.

It was with these thoughts in her head that Lillie became aware of someone stomping their way toward her. She frowned, tilting her head toward the sound. Normal people didn’t stomp when they walked, unless they were trying to make their presence known. So who the heck was following her? One of the bikers? Dallas? And then a voice sounded next to her, and her jaw fell open slightly in surprise.

“Oh! Hi, Kyle! Sure, you can walk with me; are you going this way too? I thought you’d be staying in the bar with Ms. Wormy,” She paused, hearing the telltale signs of a liquid sloshing somewhere below. Okay, so she really did like her new bar-friend, but…well, a woman alone with a guy who was quickly approaching Drunk Land? Was that such a good idea?

Hearing the cars surrounding the intersection stop, she started walking forward, cane clacking on the pavement. To trust the man, or not to trust the man…she chewed on her lip, knowing that the route she was about to take would become quite deserted in a few minutes. She’d just met the guy…what if he was a Ted Bundy wanna-be? Suddenly, the image of herself as a blushing heiress being ‘attacked’ by a rake turned into something uglier, and she couldn’t help the little goosebumps that covered her arms.

But, quite surprisingly, she felt herself slowing so that she could match pace with the man. Her common sense practically fainted at the realization that she was going to let him walk with her, but something in her gut said that he wasn’t the psychotic killer type. First off, he’d shown her how to drink tequila without trying to get her drunk. He’d made sure she didn’t get squished by dancers, escorted her to and from the middle of the dance floor, and had even attempted to dance with her.

All in all, that made him trustworthy. A guy who didn’t laugh, leave or become deathly embarrassed at her dancing? Definitely not a psycho killer.

“Sure, company would be fine,” She said with another smile. “I’m just head on back to the office to pick up a few things. I own the Head in the Clouds Gallery right near the university. I hope I’m not dragging you out of your comfort zone, or anything. But heck, I hate walking alone, so come along!”

With a little laugh as she pitched her voice to sound like Bob the furniture guy she was always hearing on tv commercials, she reached over to pat his arm affectionately. The fuzziness in her head made her weave a bit on the sidewalk, but she managed to lead him in the right direction, chattering all the way.

She’d blame it on the liquor later. Did Kyle necessarily WANT to know that she’d lived in New Orleans all her life, she had five older brothers who were crazy, had a flamboyantly gay co-manager and loved to bake, in case he wanted some sugar to go along with that booze? Probably not. But heck if she could stop herself from talking.

Finally, they reached the familiar streets that housed the Gallery, known for its quirky artists who liked to decorate the sidewalk with drawings and seashells worked into the cement below. Fishing out her keys from her pocket, she clacked her way toward the front door.

“You can come in, if you want,” She said happily, strolling in with a familiar ease. “That is, if I haven’t driven you insane with my babbling. I tend to do that when I’m happy, too, so beware. I hug, I babble and I bake things. Run while you still can.”

The room around her was quiet, smelling faintly of flowers and paint. It was well sized and airy, with soft blue walls and antique furniture spread around in various places. Various pieces hung on the walls, some large, some small. Most were depictions of mystical landscapes, fairy figures and beings that were half animal, half man. And, hanging in the archway, as if to attract those who peeked in the windows, was one of her favorite paintings; ‘The Eyes of the Beast.’

Set at night, it was a close shot of a man’s face; half human, half dragon. There were many a customer- mostly female- who had dropped in, begging for a sale, but she’d always held off. There was just something about the painting that made her pause, want to keep it in the shop, as if it served some protective purpose. Most of her dreams about that dragon were a reprieve from nights of war, and she coveted them like a fiend.

“I don’t want to keep you,” She called over her shoulder. “I live right next door, in case you need to get on home yourself. But if you want, I can give you a class to use with that bottle. You don’t want any passing street cop to think you’re a grad student looking for a good time.”

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

Kyle walked unhurriedly, but his gait was wide enough that the petite woman had to move swiftly to keep up with him. He was surprised, but not disappointed when she accepted the company; especially when her expression told a story of nervousness and perhaps even something a bit more; fear, as the tell-tale bumps rose on her velvety arms.
And the beast knew they were like velvet; for he had had them wrapped around him mere moments ago and the sensation was still startling. How odd for a man as old and empty as he to be discomfited by a slender female; elfin in stature, and whose eyes saw only darkness. The image of the dragon painting back at the bar danced across his mind again; and immediately his muscles stiffened. Were the Fates leading him to the whereabouts of the witch after all this time? Or was this something more?

Kyle’s shrewd azure glare stole over Lillie’s seemingly guiltless face as she chattered and dexterously lead them towards the gallery. He didn’t want to believe that that innocent face hid something darker; that she was an antagonist in disguise and now led him towards his demise; but he’d lived long enough and seen too many things to simply discount the presupposition because of a pretty face and soft, soft hands.

He couldn’t help but let the half smile steal across his face as she told him of her childhood and her brothers. It had been an eternity since he’d shared such flippant conversation with another, and the shifter suddenly ached to know more; everything. His life had been a nightmare; at least what he could remember. It was almost as if the time when he was happy had never happened. It had all been a dream; one which he woke from in shackles with a witch scratching at his door.
A shudder tore through him, and he made a guttural sound from his throat; refocusing his attention on the woman just as they came to a stop in front of a door and she spoke of happy hugs and baking. Kyle chuckled absently and wondered if she really was a clairvoyant or something else. Sweets were one weakness that he could never turn away from, and the baked variety happened to be his favorite.

He nodded in response to her invitation; quickly remembering that she could not see the quiet gesture, so he cleared his throat and mumbled a thank you as he fell into step right behind her. The dragon inhaled deeply as his sapphire gaze went around the room; the fragrance reminiscent of the way Lillie had smelled, but with the stronger scent of paint and oil. The art and décor fit the odd little human as well; for some reason the shifter could see her among the unicorns and fairytale creatures that lined the walls as if she were as much a part of that other world as he was...

And then his gaze fell on the portrait of the half-man, half-dragon. Kyle’s heart stilled in his chest and a coldness fell over him as if the winter had followed them inside.
Lillie had wandered into a further room to retrieve a glass or some other task, and so the shifter boldly approached the painting; his breath caught in his throat as his shaking hand lifted to touch the raised colors of the canvas.

His image; clear as the moon shone tonight in the cloudless sky; stared back at him as if it were a reflection in the mirror.

A sudden ferocious anger tore through the dragon like a storm, and a rumble of thunder echoed across the darkness outside a moment before a bolt of lightning ripped open the sky like a white sword.
His emotions; as infrequent as they appeared, were connected to the elements, and thus; his fury caused a great tempest to amass in the heavens.
A snarled was loosed from his throat at the sound of Lillie’s reentrance, and whirling around to face her, Kyle lost his hold on the bottle, which dropped to the wood paneled floor with a loud din.

The dragon stalked toward the blind woman with deliberate strident steps; stopping just in front of her so that his anger radiated like a hot mist and he could smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair. The dragon towered over her like predator baring down on its prey, and even though she couldn’t see them, sharp fang burst up from his lower gums to nearly complete that image.

“What sort of sorcery is this?!” The dragon demanded of the woman; clutching her wrist so that he could tug her over to the painting. “Who are you? What do you know of me? What do you know of my son?”

It was a leap; accusing the human, if she really was only human, of having knowledge of his quest; but considering the fact his image hung on her wall despite the fact they’d known one another only a few short hours, the shifter didn’t think it was that impossible.

{ Yikes! Sorry. The dragon can be so thoughtless and rough at times. Forgive? <3 }