13599/I wanna be a lounge singer.

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I wanna be a lounge singer.
Date of Scene: 18 December 2022
Location: Sion - Nightclub
Synopsis: It's on. And now, you had best bring it.
Cast of Characters: Betsy Braddock, Alexander Aaron




Betsy Braddock has posed:
"And this is where we have things setup to be a tad quieter," Betsy said as she took him up the stairs to the second level. There was also an elevator but the stairs allowed one to still watch the goings-on. The second level was setup to be far quieter, to allow for people to chat or share a few food items available from the kitchen. It was not a full-serve restaurant though some had suggested adding that service. It just was already difficult enough to balance what little they did.

She moved to a rail that allowed them to overlook the people below. The music was still there but more muted, letting them speak in more normal tones. Betsy was dressed in a little purple dress, which was not as effective as a little black dress but it did just fine for her purposes. She'd worn heels, strappy stillettos that showed off her legs.

"My office is up there." She motioned toward the bank of windows. "But that's it. Nothing too fancy but it pays the bills." She gave a little shrug. "Would you like to sit and have something to drink?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "You know," The young Olympian in the black suit walked along with the woman known as Lady Braddock. It was curious to wander around in her wake. To see the deference the people in the club had for her, though they were respectful. Idly he wondered how many might know her secret, or simply had a feeling for the vibe of the deadly woman in their midst. For she did give an... edged vibe to her manner at times.
    "Since having met you I realize I have started dressing up more often roughly to a measure of 300%." He smiles and steps up beside her as she looks out over the people there that evening, his eyes wandering the folks down below and his gaze curious. He rested a hand on her hip briefly, and when her hand found his he interlaced his fingers with hers.
    "It's true, I did the math. I wonder what that says about us?" His eyebrows rise, "Or me."
    But then he casts his gaze over the club and says, "This reminds me a bit of the Hellfire Club layout, did you draw inspiration?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Not consciously," Betsy says in answer to his question. She glances around at the club, more focusing on the setup than the actual people inside it. A little huh sound as she figured out he was right. "I wonder if it was an unconscious thing on my part or if it was just the same designer that helped with the club." Which was possible. While the HFC exterior had been there a while, just as Sion's original building had been, the interior had certainly been modified and updated through the years.

She looked over at him, squeezing his hand in hers then bringing her free hand up to straighten his lapel slightly. Not that it needs straightening.

"It's called the Fashion Aura Extension Effect. One spends enough time around someone else who dresses a certain way and it begins to influence their style of dress. For example, I ordered a Ramones t-shirt the other day on a whim. I wonder what inspired that."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The young man laughs, shaking his head a little as he looks down at the crowd. Then when she starts to adjust his jacket he straightens up instictively before looking down to see what she sees that needs adjustment. He looks up into her eyes and murmurs, "Fashion Aura Extension Effect. I see."
    He slips an arm around her waist and then turns to look out across the landscape before them of the celebrators and party-goers. He chews the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, "Now if I check my phone to see if that's a real thing I'll totally find it and it's not something you just made up on the spot, right?"
    He squeezes her hip slightly, then lets her lead the way to show him the rest of the place. "But a Ramones shirt, that's some good taste you got there, Braddock."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"But of course you will find it. Everyone who is anyone in fashion knows about it." She used that pseudo-high-society voice that was used when someone mocked a person looking down on others. But it was ruined a moment later as Betsy laughed and shook her head. She motioned then started to walk along that upper floor, showing him the sound baffles that reduced the music from below to more a background track than anything. The various booths for privacy. Some near the rail and some on the opposite side. There were also tables with chairs to balance it out since not everyone liked a booth.

"I believe we should make it a thing. F. A.E.E. Fae? Oh that will never do. We need to come up with a better name to allow for a better acronym."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Something about..." Alexander walks along with her down those aisles and around the decor, observing the different ins and outs of the club and its strategic use of sound baffling that makes this floor actually comfortable for conversations. A rarity in clubs. "The transitive nature of taste? The Osmosis of Elegance?"
    His nose crinkles, "I'm terrible at acronyms." That said he casually scoops a small piece of crostini off of a tray that a server carries past them, apparently feeling peckish. He bites into it, and his eyebrows rise.
    "Yummy." He offers it for her to taste. "What would you like to do after this? Or did you want to put in an appearance? Drink and dance and be seen?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She took the offered bite of crostini and gave an approving nod.

"I do have to put in an appearance tonight. With having been out of town, I try to be sure to show up on either Friday or Saturday nights." She had a reliable manager that handled the daily processes but Betsy liked being supportive of her when she was able to do so. Thus she would be here often during the week as well. But it was known that Betsy had other things she did for work and thus she couldn't spend all day every day in the club.

"Osmosos of Fashion. O.O.F. Oof. That should be it," she decided with a little laugh. She did motion to one of the booths that was on the railing, allowing her to see the floor below. And be seen. Yet it would let them still talk instead of going into the press of bodies on the dance floor or migrating around the bar to get their drink and socialization on.

"Let's have a drink and something to tide over our appetites until we have dinner later. I can recommended the buffalo style cauliflower. Sounds insane but it is delicious."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she motioned in that direction he moved with her, sliiiiding into the seat with an easy movement, then settling in as he looks across the tableau of humanity below. It was clear Sion was a draw and a success if one were to consider the number of patrons, though the club business was complex. Would all depend on their expenses. But there was an appeal to the place.
    Though when Alexander looked across the table at Elizabeth, he at least knew exactly what drew him here.
    "You choose, I'll just sit here, absorb your O.O.F., and look pretty as your..." His brow furrows, gaze drifting to the side, "Consort? Since you rule here like your own court in a way."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I believe the term Boytoy has been used," Betsy suggested as she tried not to laugh. Since that was Emma's summation of Alexander, upon their meeting at the HFC.

She does shake her head a little though. "Just a boss. No ruling like the aristocracy. I mean, I'm like two-hundred-thirty-seventh in line for the throne but still. Just not worth it." She was not in line for the throne at all but her own joke amused her and that's what was important.

"Do you have a preference on your drink at least?" And whatever he opted for would lead to her next words to the server that arrived. The cauliflower was ordered. For herself, it was a top shelf whiskey, neat. Because she was in the mood for something less frilly, so to speak.

While she was ordering, she shifted slightly in her seat and a moment later relaxed again. There was probably not an audible sound as her shoe was dropped to the floor. She slid her bare foot over to rest atop his shoe, tucking her toes up the cuff of his pants to caress softly. Just that little physical contact as she smiled over at him while the server rushed off to get their items.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh is that what I should put on all my stationary?" Alexander offers in rejoinder to the boytoy comment, his nose crinkling a little as if troubled, but not terribly so. He lightly bumps the toe of her shoe with his own, but affectionately.
    When she then mentions her place in the line of succession Alexander's brow rises. "Seriously?" Then his eyes narrow and he slowly strokes the sides of his chin, likely imagining the long line of 'accidents' that would need to happen to bring about that particular timeline. He nods slowly, "Sooooo."
    "But he was fine with having a screwdriver as that fit his mood at the moment. Not quite celebratory, but with a rather fine outlook.
    Then when he felt her toes on his shin he smiled a little. Nice to have that connection, like the completion of a circuit between them. "I should tell you, by the bye, I visited Xavier's once a few months ago."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She gave him the stink-eye when he looked like he was pondering how many people to remove to get her bottom on the throne. Then another shake of her head.

Their drinks arrived but a moment later, obviously pushed to the front of the line. Sometimes it was good to be the boss.

"We will come up with something better for your business cards. Boytoy seems...Nevermind what it seems. But it is not befitting of our relationship. Consort doesn't seem quite right either."

She waved a hand dismissively but when he mentioned Xavier's, that had her full attention. "Oh? Whatever for?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The returning smile he gave her in response to the stink eye was what he ideally would hope would come across as... oh so charming. As if to say, 'hey... it's me.' and yet her very well knowing it's him might well lend more credence to her wariness. But he bites his lower lip playfully before he extends his hand across the table palm up.
    "Oh are we considering getting serious. Escalating to something like... boyfriend?" He draws in a breath between his teeth, a slight hissing sound. "That's dangerous territory." But his smile is wry.
    Though when she pursues the topic of Xavier's he murmurs, "There was a battle I was aiding my aunt, Diana, with. One of your colleagues was there I believe. Monet? She was injured and we saw to her return. I got to guard her semi-invisible airplane while we were there. Met some of the students."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
That had her nodding. "I must have been away at the time. Thank you for taking care of Monet. And I'm sure the students were thrilled, despite the circumstances your visit was under. Between the semi-invisible plane," she said in a tone that showed she was trying to understand how something was semi-invisible. "And Diana herself, they probably didn't stop talking about it for weeks." It was good not being a teacher. But at the same time, she missed things like this. Especially since, though she was technically a resident at the mansion, she rarely stayed there anymore. Instead, she often borrowed her brother's place in NYC since he was rarely present.

"What did you think? Did you get the grand tour or just have to stand on the lawn?" She slid her hand into his as she smiled.

And yes, she completely avoided that boyfriend comment for now as though it never happened.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    His smile widened a little as he looked to the side, his eyes drifting past her then returning as he murmured, "I stood there while the Professor and Miss Grey wandered around with her. I got the kids that wanted to see the jet. So I sort of sat there on the ground in my armor and talked to a few."
    His smile slips wry as he looks back to her fully, lifting his chin. "One of them asked if I was an Amazon." He gives a nod solemnly, "I told them I was an honorary Amazon, and that I helped them with their deliveries during the holiday season. They clearly were impressed."
    Though okay, perhaps some of that was a little bit of a fib. But only slightly.
    "Most of SHIELD doesn't know that I'm..." He looks around conspiratorially, then leans close to her and whispers. "Greek." Then he grins.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
That got him swatted. A light tap of her free hand against his forearm. "Do not spread that myth ever! We don't need conspiracy theories that Themyscira has been secretly working on taking over the economy of a foreign nation or some such!"

Because that is what it would escalate to. People on social media were often vulnerable. And others were just crazy.

She shook her head a little but when he leaned forward, Betsy did instinctively as well. But when he whispered that word, she had to laugh. "I will be sure to keep your secret from them, should it come up. I doubt it will. They don't seem to like when I visit their facilities."

Their food was delivered next with little plates so they could help themselves. The fried cauliflower was crispy but then drizzled with a good buffalo sauce that had a little bite to it. But something he said had her asking.

"Which armor were you wearing?" Oh So Innocently. "The SHIELD assigned or something more...Greek?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Why Elizabeth," Alexander casually takes a few pieces of cauliflower and tears them into tinier bits on his plate. "One would imagine you were curious about the sorts of armor that some in the classical era might have worn. Purely a fashion curious question I would imagine." Though his smile was wry as he looks at her.
    He squeezes her hand and then draws it back so he can deal with the food a little easier, lightly using fork and knife to cut himself some small bites and indulge in them.
    "Are you letting your mind wander?" He takes a bite and smiles at her, eyes twinkling. "Perhaps something Spartan? Sandals, and cloaks, and loin cloths, and shields, and not much else?"
    He takes another bite then knits his brow, "Shame on you. You and your female gaze. So terribly rude."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Let's be completely honest here."

Betsy had taken a few morsels to her own plate, also utilizing fork and knife mainly because she didn't want to have sauce all over her fingers. Secondary reason, it came out really hot and she would cut it open to let the steam out a bit so it could could before taking a bit. Thus avoiding a scalded mouth.

"Yes, I immediately went directly to Spartans. Not what they likely were historically speaking but the ones that were in that old movie. Because that entire movie was nothing but made for female gaze."

She looked him over a moment and smirked. "Thus yes, I am imagining you dressed as that and I am very pleased."

Then she took a bite, chewed, swallowed and washed it down with a sip of water, glasses of which had also been delivered earlier with their drinks. "There is nothing wrong with the female gaze. Or the male gaze. If I was bothered by either, I wouldn't be a model. Nor work out multiple days a week. I don't want people to be rude ogling but I do try to be attractive to have that noticed."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A small laugh comes from him as he takes another piece of cauliflorwer and chews on it, daintily eating it with fork and knife, but his smile is crooked as he listens to Elizabeth's words and shakes his head.
    "Well, sorry to disappoint you." He says levelly, eyes lowering a little, then returning to hers. "But it was my more practical armor, white lamellar ceramic armor of a sort. An old gift from..." His brow furrows, and she might catch an image of several Japanese faces, smiling though looking rather exotic in some ways.
    "From people whom I lived with for a few years back when I was a sprogling." He tilts his head a little and smiles, "So not very tantalizing at all I'm afraid."
    He takes a sip of his drink then tilts his head, "Although..."
    His brows rise and she might get a glimpse of a costume laid out on his bed. Shield and spear and a red cloak apparently. "For last Halloween I wore exactly what you were imagining I believe. Though the cloak was fur-lined since... well it was cold and I wasn't wearing much underneath it."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Interesting. That armor had almost a Japanese feeling to it. She had taught him pretty early on in their relationship how to focus his thoughts to better get through. She'd already explained how thoughts came through generally anyway. But with a bit of focus on his part, it could sort of 'tap her' and let her know he wanted her to see something.

Thus she also got that other image and she let out a little playful growl sound. More silly than sexy. "Please tell me you own that costume and didn't rent it? Because if I have to wait for Spirit Halloween to open again, I will be a very sad woman."

Because yes indeed, that was how she has imagined his armor originally. Though her mind wandered back to the reality and she tilted her head. "You are tantalizing in any armor. Because you are you. Though I am curious, that is..from your time abroad, yes?" He knew what she meant since he had told her his tale. Just as she'd told hers. Which hers would've been so much easier if she'd just said I'm a member of the X-Men because it was less words and summed up a high level of weirdness.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A small scoffing laugh is given as he lifts his eyes up toward the ceiling then return them to Elizabeth's own. He shakes his head slightly, "If you dig around in storage in my apartment you'll find it. In a box labeled Hamdingers I think." Since his father saves almost /all/ of the boxes he uses. Almost all.
    Then he gives a nod about it being from his time abroad and his own spot of weirdness and wildness that might almost be crazy enough to make him an honorary X-Man as well.
    "White inter-locking plates with some black lining and a half-cloak. Very... Obi-Wan Clone Wars maybe?" His nose crinkles, realizing that likely Elizabeth never saw such a thing considering her high society self.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
While being high society, Elizbeth was also very much a normal person. She liked going on adventures, flying, skiing, mountain biking. If it was something physical and perhaps dangerous, she would be the first to sign up.

Though perhaps she might get in trouble here in a moment. She had continued to gently rub her foot along is lower leg. Shin and calf, nothing extreme but just that lovely personal contact since their hands were busy with fork and knife as they ate. Thus no more hand holding. Until later.

"What?" Because she had no idea what he was talking about. And perhaps adding insult to injury... "Was Obi-Wan one of your senseis?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Yes, at a very early age." Alexander said as his smile grows. And for a time he considers letting her go out into the world with that preconceived notion, his eyes gleaming with playful wickedness, but she can also catch that vibe from him so when he sees the skepticism in her eyes he answers, "He's a guy from one of the Star Wars things."
    But his confession is tinged with amusement as he lightly eases his leg closer, letting her have more room to touch.
    "I like the look of it mainly, and it's light so doesn't interfere with my movement. Though as for amount of protection it gives... it's touch but maybe not as strong as to be hugely useful against something that would really hurt me." Since he had a fair amount of durability himself.
    "So I suppose." His eyes lift upwards, "It's really about looking the part, all serious and cool."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
When he said it was a sensei, she just nodded. But something about his expression was giving her a hint before he confessed. "Star Wars. I saw that." Which may have him rolling his eyes because there was far more than one thing in Star Wars. But she saw...something apparently. And then she gave it away. "Rey seemed interesting. I never saw the sequels though. The fighting seemed unrealistic to me." Oh. Dear. God. He might want to save her from herself.

As he explained about the armor, there was that smile on Betsy's face. Considering what she chose to wear for a costume in battle, her next words were probably no surprise. "Armor is overrated. Just don't get hit and it's far more effective."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh it's that simple?" He grins and eats the last piece of his cauliflower and lifts his hands a little with palms up, "Why didn't I think of that? Just don't get hit." His lips twist upward amused as he shakes his head. "I think you are misunderstanding, I am going for a particular aesthetic here."
    Though really he's not, his smile though is teasing as he tries to live in that corner of her world about fashion... and tease her from it.
    He extends a fork and steals one of Elizabeth's cauliflower bites and pops it in his mouth, "See, clearly that cauliflower should have just not gotten hit. Perfect analysis." He grins and takes another sip of his screwdriver, then winks a little.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Precisely." Because it is that simple. "Though some of us cheat. A little. At times." Because he knows her powers. Though she doesn't /have/ to use it when fighting, she can do so and give herself even more of an advantage against some opponents. After all, if she knows where they are going to strike, she knows not to be in that spot.

She glanced down at the fork stealing her bite of food and her brows lift a little as she tracks it to his mouth. "Perhaps it should've been wearing armor. Though that would be difficult when trying to eat it," she added immediately with a smile. "Might chip a tooth."

She finishes off another piece of hers then spears the last one, offering it to him if he should like it. "We should do an armor fashion collection. I'll have to talk to some of my designer friends. Could do clothing inspired by different cultures and historical groups."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A small laugh comes from him as she mentions that last and he shakes his head, "I dunno if the world is ready for plate mail chic." He leans forward and takes the bit of food and draws it in with his tongue then chews idly. His gaze wanders, "You'd end up with all these goth versions, and high fashion incomprhensible versions that are made of tissue paper and aren't armor at all."
    Shaking his head he crinkles his nose at her, "I can understand why you enjoy modelling, but personally it's so... weird to me."
    Which ends with him giving a single nod and a harumph of sound from him. Though then he sets his plate aside and takes a drink of his vodka and orange juice. "My father was going to be in town next week."
    He lifts his chin slightly, "I know it's probably early to meet him, but I thought I should mention so you didn't think I was embarrassed of being with you."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I do it and even I think modeling is weird," Betsy admitted as she put her small plate toward the outer edge of the table so the server could pick them up more easily. "I wouldn't say I love it but it's...familiar? Like a pair of old slippers."

Finally she picked up her whiskey and took a moment to savor the scent before bringing the glass to her lips and sipping. It got a favorable mmm sound and then she was focusing on his question. Statement? Mix of the two?

"I'm fine either way. I have no problem meeting him, though yes, we haven't been dating very long yet so I don't want him pressuring either of us any sort of way. But I won't be broken hearted if you don't introduce us either. Completely up to you. For while I am amazing with parents generally speaking, I will admit that your father intimidates me on a scale I've not faced." She grins. "It's all that...Greekness."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "So painfully Greek," Alexander's smile widens as it becomes more of a grin, his eyes dancing with silent laughter. He shakes his head, "Well there's no real scheduling with him, he'll show up without warning, swoosh in and be this whirlwind of... dad. And then he'll whoosh out and I won't hear from him for a while. Though weirdly enough he's like clock work when it comes to union work, so I dunno."
    He bites his lower lip and then grins a little more, "I just could imagine a scenario when we're back at my home and in he swooshes. I didn't want you to be all surprised."
    He takes another sip of his drink and murmurs, "So very Greek."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She sips her whiskey again, continuing that idle stroking of her foot against his leg just up the edge of his pants. Not too high to be awkward. Sort of petting him as an example.

She considered that warning. "Whoosh, huh?" Because that sounded very amusing, if one was his son. Perhaps not so amusing if one was in a compromising position with his son in that apartment. "So, should I avoid staying at your place for a couple of weeks? We can use my penthouse if we want to have alone time." Which had her tilting her head. "Which then leads to a problem that it isn't my penthouse but my brother's. Though he usually lets me know before he comes into town when he will be arriving." And now she was imagining him whooshing in and frowned slightly.

"Perhaps I should get my own penthouse before your father's visit."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I mean, I don't think you should make a major purchase just in case we might be mildly inconvenienced and/or embarrassed by my father or your brother's wandering by. We can endure, you know. And my dad won't be weird."
    Then his tone sombers as he murmurs with an affected hint of the aristrocracy to his words. "For as you know. He is, indeed, very Greek."
    But he extends his hand again toward her, just seeing that small touch as he murmurs. "But then I know you are fairly well off and who am I to say how you should spend your money?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"This is something I've considered before," Betsy admits with a little laugh. "I'm not thinking to spend millions just because of inconvenience." Then she purses her lips slightly and has to shrug, that smile widening. "Though it is partly for convenience. I don't teach at Xavier's, though I have friends there. Those friends have means for rapid transportation if needed in an emergency." Meaning the X-Men but she was trying not to mention them by name just in case someone went tried to eavesdrop.

"But a lot of my work is here in town and the club obviously. So it makes sense to have a place nearby to spend less time driving to and fro."

She dropped her gaze down to her whiskey then peeked back up at him. "And maybe, just maybe, it might have to do with being closer to a certain...Greek."

And she nudged him with that foot. "And I don't mean any of your relatives before you crack a joke!"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I mean..." Alex looks at her and smiles a little, then he makes a face. "Ugh, I know this is like a thing. But if you wanted to and you didn't want to spend the money you could crash at my place. But yah, then there's a higher chance of weird greekness manifesting simply by proximity." His lips twist.
    "Though, if you do get a penthouse I am totally staying over, like repeatedly. Every weekend." He finishes his drink by tilting it back and then smiles. "I intend to lay on your couch and eat bon bons. Though SHIELD will get grumpy about my sudden weight gain. But hey. I gotta live my life."
    As he says that he leans forward and makes a slight pooch of his lips as if wanting her to lean in and give him a smooch.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She grinned at the offer, more because of the way he phrased it. "If you are sleeping at my place, wouldn't that increase the likelihood of weird Greekness manifesting there too?"

Which brought up another question that was on her mind. "Can you ...Greeks sense each other's locations or the like? Ping like with a submarine and get back an echo or something equally strange?"

Then she was shifting and her foot left his leg. She put a hand under the table and quickly pulled that strappy heel back on her foot. Only then did she stand slightly to lean over the table, in an attempt to give that kiss. Which was gentle, lingered a bit, until she finally pulled back with a pleased sigh.

She scooted out of the booth then, holding out a hand his way. "Come on. I'll show you the office then we can go get dinner." But she wasn't done yet. "And you will not be eating bon bons on my couch to the point that you lose your abs. Because a girl has to have her standards."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Possibly!" He offers in the way of Greek weirdness, perhaps using that to defuse the way they danced around the talk of living together, which would be all sorts of weird. He does slip out of the booth, however, and takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze as they start to walk along.
    "To be honest though I'm not that hungry," He tilts his head a little and glances down at the dance floor. "We could dance a little, drink a little more. Then make a series of bad decisions?" His eyes crinkle with amusement as he walks along with her.
    "Though now I see that you only love me for my abs. You might as well be dating my pull up bar." He makes a small harumph of sound as they start to stroll along, feigning a grumpiness that is belied by the warmth of her touch.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Your abs. Your pectorals. Your biceps. Triceps. Gluteus. I could go on but I believe you get the picture," Betsy adds with a laugh as she holds his hand, leading him back toward the staircase.

"If we are being completely honest, I suspect you wouldn't be dating me if it was only based on my brilliant mind and sense of humor. Though I could be wrong, I suppose. But I've been in your head, remember." So she's seen who he has dated in the past likely. Or at least some of them. At least with any frequency. And he had a thing about fit women that were physically capable, such a martial artists.

Dance, drink and bad decisions." Betsy grinned up at him, turning to face him and steal another kiss if she could. "Now you are speaking my language."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she recites the various muscle groups that have drawn her eye he crinkles his nose and seems to hunker down inside himself a little more, his face gone a little sour as he affects an almost comically exaggerated grumpy look, crinkling his nose even more at her when she meets his eyes. But when she goes in for the kiss he eases that look into a smile and returns the kiss, and then slips closer so they're walking hip to hip as they wander through the higher echelons of the club.
    "It depends," He says as he looks sidelong at Elizabeth, "I have tiers of engagement in various levels, you just happen to excel at all of those tiers. Which really is quite clearly cheating." He gives a nod and lightly bumps his hip with hers.
    "So dance?" He looks to the elevator that leads downstairs. Then he leans closer and whispers in her ear, "Or to your office, lock the door, and stay inside until closing time. Keeping ourselves busy with oh... I don't know. We'll find something."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Tempting..." Elizabeth says in a singsong tone as she laughs, squeezing his hand again. "But no. Dancing it is. I have employees and they will notice if I go lock us up on the office. Not to mention that the sound might carry." What sound? She didn't really need to elaborate that.

And with that, she turned to the stairs because no, they didn't need to use the elevator for a number of reasons. And she started to trot down the stairs, tugging his arm to be sure he was still following along.

"Of course, I don't know if you can dance. Perhaps I should rethink this."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh no. Elizabeth. Don't you realize what you've done?" He says as he starts to follow down the stairs, then /sliiiides/ down the bannister as he lands on the next flight down with a hop and a _spin_ move that has him extending his hand to her.
    "Now because of what you said." He pauses dramatically.
    "It's on."