And together we'll keep the night at bay, dancing till dawn, dancing till dawn....

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

(Dusk, Monday Sept. 21st, day 113)
(The Sacred Whore)

Today just flew by.

After voting and chatting with friends, I went by the doctor's office.  Lucien looked like.... he looked bad enough that I flipped over the 'Doctor is Out' sign on the door and gently led him by the hand back to his private office.   It took some coaxing, but he finally started talking. .... 
Poor, poor Miao.  And my poor Lucien, who is tearing himself up over not being able to help her.   I can certainly understand why he's been there all these night.  I will have to go by soon and see my dear friend.  Hooves or no hooves, she's still Miao. 
We sit quietly for a few moments, I'm settled on his lap, his arms wrapped around my waist.  "Are you going out to Ares tonight?"  "Yes, I am... it's Monday."  He's quiet again for a moment, then merely requests I try to be home before nightfall.  I shudder a bit.  He must have heard the howling too.  How could anyone NOT have heard it.
"Don't worry, I will.  Was planning on being home in time for dinner... maybe I'll finally get over and visit Dorian tonight, get my dress plans started."   I offer brightly, hoping that will ease his mind.  It seems to, for he even suggests I pick up dinner from the cafe' and spend the night.  Looking like a slight weight has been taken off him, Lucien walks me to the door.  I remind him to vote with a kiss, but as I'm leaving, he catches my hand.  "Wanda... please.  Be inside before dark, and whatever else you do.... DON'T mention Gaueko to Dorian.  Promise me!"  The intensity in his eyes..... must be another story I am unaware of there.  I merely nod and promise him.

Practice was better..... granted, I think Ares was still cross with me, and he was still a task master, but I know I did better today than last week.  Merely berated me half the time I was there.  An improvement, I think.  I hope.

Finally.... the last rays of the setting sun find me showered, redressed in a smart black skirt, peach colored silk blouse with a ruffled collar, and a fitted black vest.  Two filet mignon dinners from the cafe', pumpkin cheesecake and a bottle of wine are packed in a satchel for us to dine on, and my sketchbook filled with wedding ideas is tucked under my arm.   With a smile I push open the door to the Sacred Whore and call out in my singsong voice:  "Dorian Darling...... PLEASE come out and play with meeeeeeeeeeee....."
Grin widely, I hum a tune under my breath and wait for my languid lover to come out from wherever he's hiding.

(Closed)

Comments

[winifred-anwell.livejournal.com]

I am quite busy these days. Mr. Dorian hardly ever seems to have time anymore, what with being called away here or there or disappearing on his own business. I never realized that the life of a tailor was so involved, but I suppose he must be taking measurements and consultations, or something. He is puttering away in his office right now, which I like better considering that he must be very tired by this point, and heaven knows what his customers are demanding of him on his errands. He always comes back looking like he needs a few days' rest.

I'm minding the shop, which is finally approaching respectable. Mr. Dorian is quite dear and I am sure he is a good businessman, but the concept of dusting seems to entirely elude him. This, I recall Matilda telling me, is one of the failings of men; they simply haven't the capacity for it. But I don't mind helping--that's what assistants are for, after all!--and I catch myself hoping now and then that he might notice. Which is perfectly appropriate, anyway, since any employee might wish to please their employer. I was admiring the lace on one of the display dresses, but I drop it and try to perk up and look as if I know what I'm doing as the door opens.

I head around to the front of the shop in time to see the woman come in the door. She's very pretty, and also very forward indeed. I think I have some memory of seeing her at the Dormouse, though I am usually scurrying on my errands as fast as I can in case Mr. Dorian needs me back at the shop. "I beg your pardon," I say, straightening my front slightly as I suddenly feel more than a little bit drab. Be charming, Winnie! That's what one does for customers! I am not as good at this part as I am at dusting, it seems. "Mr. Dorian is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with?"

I mean, I am a decent seamstress after all, so there's no need to bother Mr. Dorian. I can take her measurements or write down her patterns or whatever it is she wants. Oddly enough, I find that I would rather not disturb him at the moment (because I am avoiding adding stress to his life, of course, and not for any other reason).

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"I beg your pardon... Mr. Dorian is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with?"
Oh.... that was not the voice I was expecting to hear in answer to my summons. The new assistant. Sweet little thing, but I much preferred Oliver. He would have jumped to get Dorian for me a minute ago. Smiling I turn to face her, the reply, slipping past my lips before I can mentally censor it. "Unless you can do that thing he does with his tongue, I highly doubt it."

[winifred-anwell.livejournal.com]

...what? I have no idea what she's talking about, but there is a very, very inappropriate sort of tone in the way she is saying it. I know what is and is not appropriate, and discussion of a gentleman's tongue, in any but the most very opaque of terms, is certainly the latter. "I... I beg your pardon," I say, scandalized, my eyes blinking rapidly as I attempt to remain polite. She's just standing there, expecting me to go and fetch Mr. Dorian, and if he didn't already need his rest he certainly doesn't need this woman's importuning. Attempting to carry on--I really must get better at customers, I must!--I try to steer her back toward whatever it is that she came here for, since clearly it cannot have been just at attempt to flummox poor Mr. Dorian. "I... as I said, I Mr. Dorian is quite occupied at the moment. But if you need measurements?"

Perhaps she is just coming to ask him to test some new pastry or confection from the Dormouse. Surely that would make sense.

I believe that I may dislike her.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Oh. I think I broke her.
"I... I beg your pardon,"
*Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh!* And I could make a comment about begging, and I've had people far better at it than her, but we'll save that scandal for another day. I set the bag on the counter and lean against it, waiting for her face to lose that bright pink color.

"I... as I said, I Mr. Dorian is quite occupied at the moment. But if you need measurements?" My dear, sweet girl, you make too, too easy.
"Mr. Dorian already has my measurements committed to memory. Only took one... specialized fitting. He truly is a master talent with his hands. I've not found his equal. For dress making, of course." Smile brightly and tap my sketchbook against my palm. "But I am sorry miss, besides coming in for a consultation on a gown commission, I am also here for a social call. Brought dinner and everything." Wave the book towards the bag at my shoulder. "Mr. Dorian has never been disappointed to see me before, so if you could please tell him Wanda is here, I would appreciate it."

*Run along now, little miss, and fetch my Dorian....*

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Whatever paperwork had drawn me to my office was forgotten in a matter of moments, flitting attention and sudden idea pulling me to the backroom for a spell. I've never been fond of such tedious tasks, really. As I begin pining fabric to one of the fitting dolls, door closing behind me, I come on the idea of getting Winnie to do it. She's lettered, after all. And she seems so very eager to help me around the shop. It would be a small thing to ask and would give me more time to...

I sigh slightly and grab a bit of lace, tossing aside the embroidery I'd originally been using as trim. Horrid looking stuff - last time I buy from that shop, I swear to myself.

Yes. I'll have Winnie see to the paperwork from now on and get back to doing something I actually enjoy. Heaven knows there's little enough of that to go around, and who's to say I shouldn't have a small measure of happiness? No one, that's who. No one of any importance, at least.

Toss the lace aside a moment later, scowl on my face. Winnie to the shop and me to whatever I fancy. It's marvelous in theory, though with one small complication. The more capable the girl proves herself, the less and less I find myself doing every day. Yes, it makes complete sense for her to do the cleaning. It makes complete sense for her to handle the paperwork as well.

But then what in the hell am I supposed to do? It was the menial tasks that kept me truly busy, limbs working and mind far away. Now that I'm free, well damn - what's left?

The fitting doll joins the pile of cloth not long after the sour mood descends and I push myself to standing. Winnie is a dear thing, she really is, but her presence is proving to be a bother. With her now here to take care of the daily tasks, I'm left with the startling realization that actual dress-making is horribly boring now.

Dear lord, I hate losing a hobby. Finding a replacement can take ages. Nothing to do but keep on, though. Especially since I have this fine shop. Would be a shame to waste it, at least until I find something else to do with my time. After all, it could simply being some morose phase I'm going through, brought on my hooves and hounds.

Some sort of phase, yes. Probably that.

I give a small hmph and stroll back into the shop proper. Having not heard Wanda's entrance, she is gifted with a rather surprised (albeit happy) look when I freeze in the doorway, a few strips of fabric in my hands. The smile only widens when my eyes move from her to Winnie, poor dear that she is. I have no idea what is going on, but I've been around long enough to sense the beginnings of a problem. And as much as I'd love to see these two go at it, I doubt my darling assistant would fare well. At least the foul mood is forgotten.

A hand on Winnie's shoulder as I pass, a flash of a smile just for her, and I go to meet Wanda. "Wanda, my dear!" I envelope her in a large hug, in no rush to pull away immediately. "You have been horrible, making me miss you so."

I glance back to my assistant when I finally pull away from Wanda, arm still lightly around the woman's waist. "Winnie, my girl. Would you fetch us a bit of tea?" Place a peck on Wanda's cheek. "Wanda, this is my new assistant, Winifred. I'm afraid she's proven far too good at her job - I'd be lost without her now."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

The little chit is obviously not going to get my Dorian for me, and I am about to open my mouth and call for him properly, when lo and behold, he appears. Even better! He looks pleased to see me, so I give him my most dazzling, and sincere smile.

Dorian looks to Winnie then to me, and he decided that intervening is a good idea. I have to hold back from laughing again. "Wanda, my dear! You have been horrible, making me miss you so." He scolds me, gathering me into a lingering hug, which I return enthusiastically. *HA! Take that, little shop-keep! "I know, I am so awful to you! You must punish me for my thoughtlessness!" I kiss his cheek and laugh back as he lets me go. I am most pleased though that the arm stays around my waist. Tea is requested and then he introduces the girl to me... Winifred. "I'm afraid she's proven far too good at her job - I'd be lost without her now."

I am sorely tempted to tell him that if she were better at her job, he would have known I was here five minutes ago, but I bite my tongue. "I am glad you found someone so capable then, for your talents truly require an attention to detail." I finally settle on giving him the roundabout compliment without insulting the girl. Right, enough about her. Turn my full attention back to my pretty, pretty man and wind an arm around his waist. "Dorian my love, I come bearing a commission and for neglecting you so, I even have wine, dinner and..." Give him a heated, sultry grin. "Dessert."
Let him think about that for a minute, then add; "And there's cheesecake as well."

[winifred-anwell.livejournal.com]

Mr. Dorian saves me from having to go get him, which is a blessing since I really feel that this woman is entirely too much enjoying ordering me around. Of course, I am working for a living now, but there's no need for her to be so smug about it. I manage not to wring my hands or look too scandalized when he comes back--really, I make enough of a fool of myself as it is, and it's a wonder he hasn't yet become impatient--and his smile is enough to make me smile back, shyly. Not seemly, but I almost can't help it; he does have such a nice smile. And a gentleman employer is perfectly proper in being kind to his assistant, and she in appreciating it!

But even his compliment (well, I have been working very hard) doesn't exactly stop my eyes from growing large and my eyebrows from rising in well-bred surprise. Being friendly toward one's customers is one thing, but there is a certain line that must be drawn for decency! They're kissing one another on the cheek, and I can only assume that it's the forwardness of it all that's suddenly making me feel very hot and nearly sick, in that exact same place in the pit of my stomach. My ribcage is rising, full of breath, as the woman goes on about cheesecake and something else I don't really bother with, but it has more to do with Mr. Dorian's arm in a very intimate place about her waist. He should know better.

"Yes, of course. Tea," I say, the words practically radiating disapproval. Mr. Dorian may not be above shining some shoes for his customers, but the whole thing is frankly awful in my opinion. He's perfectly talented enough as a tailor that he shouldn't have to. It's hard to be cross with him, but I manage and turn and go off back to the back of the shop, my steps absolutely dignified, thank you. I wish the grinding feeling in my stomach would go away. It's none of my concern what Mr. Dorian does, after all, but it's making me feel ill.

He doesn't even like tea.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

I manage to school my face as Winnie flounces off, pretty little mouth set in such a stern line that I finally have to hide my face in Wanda's hair as she disappears into the back of the shop. A few chuckles slip out when the door closes behind her, although the humor rather quickly dissolves as I breath in the scent of Wanda's hair, her body warm and pressed tight against mine.

"It looks like I'm all yours now." Grin. "So what's to be first? Work or... Dessert?" I slip my hands under her jacket to feel the warmth of her skin through the thin silk of her shirt. "It's been quite the day. I must say I'm positively famished."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I was so good and didn't laugh.... until Dorian did, face buried in my hair. I can't help it, I lean into him and give into the giggling fit I've been holding back. "Oh, she does not like me I am afraid!" I chuckle, shaking my head. "Must think I am positively indecent!"

"So what's to be first? Work or... Dessert?" His hands are around my waist, and his grin makes it hard to think for a minute. "It's been quite the day. I must say I'm positively famished." With that I really lose my train of though for a minute, and it would be so easy to take that step closer...

"Work first. We have ALL night for dessert." I say softly, suddenly feeling a little shy. Only a month ago I was proclaiming I could love him, and now I'm here, requesting a wedding dress. I meant what I said to him, every word... and nothing needs to change... but still...

Take him by the hand and lead him to the fitting room area where the comfortable chairs are, and we sit down. Take a deep breath and open my sketchbook. "I need a dress Dorian, and you are the only person who can do it justice..." I say quietly, and after I take a deep breath, I hand it over to him.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Work first, she declares, and I give a playful pout before being led over to towards the fitting room. I can't say that a part of me isn't grateful, though, as strange as it is. After all that's happened, there seems to be this wall between us (between everyone and myself). I can't say whether I want it down just yet.

Luckily, she doesn't force me to deal with that particular problem just yet, pulling out a sketchbook as we sit. Work. Good. It will help me keep my mind off of everything - Lucien and Glass and Wanda herself. "I need a dress Dorian, and you are the only person who can do it justice..." She a little quiet for my tastes, but I think little on it as I take the book and look through.

And then I understand. I don't let her see it, because fuck if I understand it myself, but something inside me wilts a bit at the realization that I'm losing her as well, just as surely as Iago. It's not marriage, not really, though I can't say I've ever agreed with the practice. It's the movement of time. Marriage and children and old age and no more time for an old friend.

I work a smile on my face and flip through the pages, eyes only darting up once or twice as I go. I wonder idly if she'll come to see me after all is said and done. Will she love me when the wrinkles come, when her world changes and I do not? Somehow I doubt it. Some would say I'm lacking in faith - but I'm simply abundant in experience.

"Very nice." I close the book and look over to her, still smiling. "Congratulations, by the way. Lucien is a lucky man." Refusing the sudden urge to tap my fingers on the cover of the book, fidget in my seat, I recline a bit instead. "So what sort of time frame am I working with here? It doesn't take much to have you look smashing, Wanda, but I would prefer a bit more time than Iago gave."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

He's quiet. Too quiet for my comfort, and barely looking at me. I am all but clutching the hem of my skirt and ripping it between my fingers, waiting for a reaction.

Finally he looks up and smiles, congratulating me. It's a smile I know well. I use it all the time to cover up what I'm truly feeling.
"So what sort of time frame am I working with here? It doesn't take much to have you look smashing, Wanda, but I would prefer a bit more time than Iago gave."
Gods, I have to bite my lip and will tears away. Something is off, and I don't know what it is. "Thank you." I say, almost timidly. "But it's no big deal really, just a big party to change my name to something more manageable." I offer with a small smile. Maybe I can salvage whatever just went wrong.

"Nothing else is changing, other than that. Lucien loves Miao dearly, and I would not keep them apart for anything in the world. Truly, if our getting married would have caused her pain, we would not do it."
Chew on my lip for a minute, then decide to lay my heart out on the floor for him to walk all over. I slide off my chair to kneel at his feet, so I can look up into his eyes. Move the book to the floor so I can take his cool hands into my now slightly damp and trembling ones. "Nothing changes between us Dorian, but Lucien and I also decided that if it would cause you any grief, then we won't. Simple as that."

Wonder if he'll tell me the truth, and I wonder if I would know it if he did?

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

She's still too timid, far too quiet for me to relax, and I try as best I can to hide a bit more, but it's useless. She's caught a whiff of something, I know, and bound to run with it. Her words are tender as she speaks of Lucien and Miao, and I know a break-up speech when I see one coming. She may not mean it, not now, but it's coming. Again. Experience.

I freeze when she moves from her chair, as still as the statue Glass professes I am as she takes my hands into hers. I won't look away from her, it's not in me to do anything other than meet her eyes, and it does nothing but make it colder, harder to move. "Nothing changes between us Dorian, but Lucien and I also decided that if it would cause you any grief, then we won't. Simple as that."

The smile is gone, it's the least I can do, and I bring her hands up to my lips, kissing her fingers before speaking. "Every little girl needs her wedding day, Wanda. Let's not bring us into it." I try for a laugh and find it, strangely enough. "Besides, if you've the wiles to get a ring on Lucien's finger, I'll be damned if I'll stand in your way. Pity be the man who would, when you've set your mind to something."

I reach down and grab the sketchbook again, pushing it in her hands. "Now... We have a dress to make and a wedding to plan, yes?"

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Oh fuck me softly...!

I honestly don't know what I would have done if he would have said he did have a problem with it, and asked me not to Lucien, but this? "Every little girl needs her wedding day, Wanda. Let's not bring us into it." His lips brush my fingers, as the smile fades. He doesn't believe me.
"Besides, if you've the wiles to get a ring on Lucien's finger, I'll be damned if I'll stand in your way. Pity be the man who would, when you've set your mind to something."
Oh, I've set my mind to something, Mr. Dorian.... and I will get it. But if you want to play.... fine. We'll play, for a bit.

"Now... We have a dress to make and a wedding to plan, yes?" Okay Dorian... showtime. "I am glad you are alright with this." I say, taking the book back and dragging the other chair over so we can sit side by side to go over my ideas. "I think ivory or cream is the way to go, I will look like death in stark white, and fitted! Must be fitted!" Shoot him a winning smile. "Now for the flower colors..."

Figure I'll ramble on for a bit before I either tackle him or smack him and tell him to snap out of it.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Wanda thankfully decides to move past the sudden moment she seemed intent on sharing, pulling her chair beside me to browse through her sketchbook. I follow along as she goes over the specifics of the dress, mentally jotting down the particulars no matter the slow gnawing in my chest. It will lessen, I know, and only once this foolishness is done with. Best to move forward.

"I disagree, actually. You'd look marvelous in white, with that complexion. But I can do something in cream that would look as well." I flip through a few pages, smile still practiced and plastic. "Definitely fitted, though. You have to remind the poor fool what he's getting in all this."

I glance over and find that it gets a little easier, seeing that at least she's happy. I meant every word I said - she deserves this. Lucien, on the other hand... Well, love and the damned, I never saw much promise there. Cheers that he could. "Where are you holding the ceremony? That will go a long way in choosing colors. It's always best to compliment the scenery."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"I disagree, actually. You'd look marvelous in white, with that complexion. But I can do something in cream that would look as well." It takes effort not to stare at him openly. You bought it? Oh Dorian, I am good, I am a damn good actress, but I am not even trying! How can you believe....?
"Definitely fitted, though. You have to remind the poor fool what he's getting in all this." Laugh gaily and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Right? I know you'll make me look fabulous. And him too, he'll need a tuxedo, and his best man will need a suit!"

"Where are you holding the ceremony? That will go a long way in choosing colors. It's always best to compliment the scenery."
"That's a good question.... if the weather behaves and we can do it outside, I was thinking the park in late October.... but the 'Boy has that gazebo in the back, and we could use the dining room..."

The conversation swirls by, debating colors, jacket cuts, veil or no veil, flowers....and I gauge that about thirty minutes have flown by at least. As fun as this is, I really can't bear this wall between us. It hurts. I know I will not keep his attentions forever, but dammit! I'm not ready to lose him yet, nor am I ready for him to push me away.

As he prattles on about sit down dinner or buffet, I rise and check my hair in the mirror, then pull out the two pins holding it on top of my head and let it tumble down. Finally turn to stare at him for a minute, hands on my hips, a slightly befuddled look on my face. "Dorian, are you quite done? Because I recall you saying you were hungry for dessert..." With that I very calmly grip either side of my shirt and yank, sending buttons flying. With deft moves, I discard the shirt and it's only another minutes work to lose my skirt.

Clad only in a peach push up bra, lace thong to match and signature black heels, I stand before him, smiling.
"I followed a stranger into a rain storm, Dorian... I let myself open up and be the impulsive girl I left behind five years before. I sang and danced and felt alive, and you were there for that... you helped wake me up again. And maybe it means nothing to you, but it means the world to me.... and I would be very sad if I lost my dancing partner Dorian. So as long as you want to dance, I will always be there with a song."

With a smile for him, just for him and no one else, I turn and start to walk towards his bedroom door.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Time whirls by as we discuss the specifics - dress patterns and seating arrangements and more than enough details to keep my mind from the rather pressing fact that I'm losing her now, too. She stands and I only glance up briefly to see her fiddling with her hair in the mirror. My attention moves back to the book, to the myriad of notes jotted towards the back. It's only when she speaks up, voice husky and so very close, that I glance back up.

"Dorian, are you quite done? Because I recall you saying you were hungry for dessert..." Her shirt is gone in an instant, skirt following just as quickly, and before I can properly digest what's happened, she's standing in front of me in nothing but her underwear and a smile.

Damn it.

"I followed a stranger into a rain storm, Dorian... I let myself open up and be the impulsive girl I left behind five years before. I sang and danced and felt alive, and you were there for that... you helped wake me up again. And maybe it means nothing to you, but it means the world to me.... and I would be very sad if I lost my dancing partner Dorian. So as long as you want to dance, I will always be there with a song."

I can't work my mouth to speak for a moment and she's started towards my bedroom and I know, with everything I have, that if I follow her in there, something in me just may break. I can't fathom what, not yet at least, but I do manage to stand to call after. "Wanda..."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I can't." Won't. Same thing. I don't know what I'm saying, what I'm thinking, except that something in me hurts at this. And I'll be damned if I don't hit back this time. "I think you should go home now."

[winifred-anwell.livejournal.com]

I take my time with the tea. Not that it really needs to steep all that long, but I know Mr. Dorian doesn't like tea, and that woman, Miss... why, he didn't even say her last name. Papa always said that there's only one kind of woman that doesn't give her last name, but I suppose Mr. Dorian's shop must cater to all types. Well, whatever her name is, she'll get her tea soon enough.

I put together a nice tray, because I'm not going to bring anything around that would make the shop look poor, and anyway Mr. Dorian might decide he wants some as well. The burning feeling in my stomach is still there, but I firm my chin and tell it to go away. I'm not a child. I can be adult enough to handle a little unseemliness.

What I cannot handle, however, is the sight of Wanda whatever-her-name-is totally naked when I back in the door. I overheard, as I was coming in, that Mr. Dorian was suggesting she take her leave, and I was preparing to be relieved, but so much for that. The tray hits the floor with a crash as my hands fly to cover my mouth, and all I can squeak out is a truly shocked, "Mr. Dorian," though of course he isn't the one without his clothes on, now is he?

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I'm halfway to the bedroom door when he calls my name, but it sounds pained. I turn back to him and the look on his face... I just want to run and hold him.
"I can't."
What?
"I think you should go home now."

I can only stand there and stare at him. He did it, he actually did it. I laid my heart out, and he crushed it under his foot. "Dorian... I don't..." Shake my head, feeling something inside shatter, and one tear slips past my eye to slide down my cheek before I can stop it. "Don't you believe...?" I whisper taking a step towards him, but a loud crash and a started voice cause me to jump.
"Mr. Dorian" Oh gods.... Winnie. Completely forgot.

Dorian is looking away, and Winnie is looking shocked and scandalized and I.....
I'm just a fool, aren't I?

"You're right. I should go." I say dully, picking up my sketchbook. Look to my ruined shirt and discarded skirt. Hell, I've acted like a whore tonight, may as well go the whole nine yards. Clutch the book to my chest and make for the door, clad only in my underwear.
"Dinner's on the counter, the two of you may was well enjoy it." I say flatly, but then I remember something Lucien said. Oh, it's cruel, but if he's going to rip my heart out, I may as well hit below the belt. At least I hope I do. "Hopefully that wolf that's been howling around the park isn't out tonight. Goodnight Dorian, sorry to have troubled you."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

There's a loud crash from the doorway and it's only then, too late of course, that I remember Winnie and the tea and dear God this has just gotten so far out of hand. I'm halfway to Winnie, because she looks near to fainting and that's surely the last thing I need today, when Wanda speaks up from the doorway.

"You're right. I should go. Dinner's on the counter, the two of you may was well enjoy it. Hopefully that wolf that's been howling around the park isn't out tonight. Goodnight Dorian, sorry to have troubled you."

I'm frozen then, face gone suddenly cold and still. It's gone in a flash and thankfully Wanda's to my back so she doesn't see the change. I compose myself as quickly as I'm able, fingers pressed lightly against the counter for some measure of support, and turn around.

The face I give is better, I think, though I can't stop the look of concern or strange bitterness that still lingers. "Damn it, Wanda. Will you stop and just-" Sigh rather dramatically and will myself to composure, because I'll be damned if I'm going to let this upset me. "There's a spare robe in the closet. Go on back and we'll talk."

I turn from Wanda before I can betray too much, crouching down in front of Winnie to gather up the shattered tea set. Poor girl - at least I'm not the only one out of sorts today. It's a mild consolation, but it's something. "Odd sort of day, isn't it?" I rise and set the tray, full of porceline bits, on the counter. "Run on home and I'll see you tomorrow."

[winifred-anwell.livejournal.com]

I am so grateful for Mr. Dorian, who is coming to my aid and who is wearing all his clothes. My relief is immense and a little bit curious, really--or at least, it is until he stops and he's talking to her again. I foggily realize that he's merely being a gentleman again, offering her a robe, but I have no idea what one is supposed to do when strange naked women invade one's place of business.

I reach behind me and grasp the doorframe, averting my eyes from the woman as Mr. Dorian stoops to clean up the china I've just dropped all over the floor. I would have let him do so, but he's inviting her... back inside?

I'm sure he's just doing the right thing. This woman clearly needs to get back where she belongs, and he's just helping her do that. But nevertheless, I dislike the idea of her staying and it galvanizes me into action, to stoop down and kneel beside Mr. Dorian, taking the pieces of china from him. "I... I... I'm sorry, I... I'll get that, Mr. Dorian, it's all right... I'll get that." I'm keeping my hands from shaking because I'm a capable employee, really I am, and I've gone and broken the teapot and he'll need another. He's sending me home, and I wish there were a home I could go to and fan myself. Poor Mr. Dorian. He shouldn't have to deal with this unpleasantness on his own, but there he is, trying to help. I manage to sweep most of the mess onto the fallen tray and all but flee back into the back of the shop with it.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"Damn it, Wanda. Will you stop and just-" I stop mid flight with my hand on the door, and hear the long drawn out sigh. "There's a spare robe in the closet. Go on back and we'll talk."
Dammit... didn't want to get his attention like this. Hell, the night NEVER should have gone where it did! Feeling like a grade a bitch, I drop my head, turn and flee into Dorian's room, past the near to fainting Winnie.

I drop the book on the nearest table and go into Dorian's closet. Find a dark, purple silk robe and throw it on. If I were feeling better, I'd open a bottle of wine, recline on the bed and wait for him to join me, but tonight is just all wrong. Instead, I curl into his armchair by the bed and pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. Close my eyes and just take a few deep breaths...

the robe smells like him. Quietly, of their own volition, the tears start to flow. Heavens, what did I expect? Show up to plan my wedding and I throw myself at him like a whore. I should just go home, and take my chances with the night howling outside my windows.

I hear footsteps draw near, but I can't find the bravery to lift my head to look at him. "Just loan me a coat, and I'll go, okay?" I mumble from against my knees.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

After helping Winnie clear the remains of the tea set and sending her on her way, I steel myself for the inevitable downfall of whatever resolve I have left and head into the bedroom. She's curled in the chair, my robe oversized and flowing around her smaller frame, and I close the door as quietly as I'm able.

"Just loan me a coat, and I'll go, okay?"

Another long sigh and I kneel in front of the chair, placing a gentle finger under her chin to draw up her face where I can see it. The tear tracks are evident and they bother me more than I care to admit. I hate to see her cry, hate even more to know that I'm the cause of it. It's a fondness for the woman that I can't bear, but I'm finding that there's no cure for it either. Damn it all.

"If you want to leave, you can. But I won't force you out. All right?" I stand and cross the small room to the bed, sitting on its edge with head perched in my hands. "I am happy for you, Wanda. I really am."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Dorian's fingers are gentle, lifting my face up to meet his gaze. We just look at one another for a moment, lost in our own miseries and insecurities. "If you want to leave, you can. But I won't force you out. All right?" I want to tell him what I wanted to happen this evening, but all that comes out is a mumbled "'kay." and a small nod of my head. I lower my legs as he crosses to sit on the bed, but I still remained somewhat curled into myself. legs tucked up under me.

"I am happy for you, Wanda. I really am." Sigh and lean on the arm of the chair, propping my head up with my hand to mirror him. "I don't... Dorian I.... what.... we... you don't have to..." Shake my head, trying to find a cohesive thought. Finally decide that I am just beyond confused and look at him helplessly. "I don't understand. Why are you pushing me away? Don't you--" Don't you want me anymore? almost slips out too, but I bite that question back. Everything seemed normal when I walked in....
and moreover, I am afraid that the answer will be 'No'.

I want to reach over and touch him. I want to curl into his arms and make whatever haunts his eyes like that go away. I want to shake him and scream at him until this makes sense. But he's put me at arms length, and I don't know what to do to get close to him again.

"Thank you for being happy for me." I finally say hollowly, looking away because the tears are welling up again.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

"I don't understand. Why are you pushing me away? Don't you--"

Her words hang in the air, both what she said and what she failed to. Of course she doesn't understand - why would she? I barely understand where my head is these days and it's only the wish to see her happy that has us at such odds. Isn't it?

I don't think I want that answer. I've had more than enough of playing the villain lately. I think I'll just pretend my intentions are completely pure and leave it at that.

"Thank you for being happy for me" she finally says, and there's so much more there that I can't quite grasp. It's frustrated, if only because it's deserved.

"I'm... Sorry." The last word comes out far too low, muddled and confused. Apologies are not something I'm used to, I suppose. Damn it all. "I am happy for you, Wanda. I am. And I want to see you... Find the life that you deserve. You may think I could be a part of that, but you're young. Today, perhaps, it could work. But not tomorrow. Certainly not years from now. And I won't have you ruin what you could have trying to keep everyone in your life appeased." My lips quirk up in a strange smile. "Does that make any fucking sense?"

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"I'm... Sorry." Blink away the tears and focus on him again.

"I am happy for you, Wanda. I am. And I want to see you... Find the life that you deserve. You may think I could be a part of that, but you're young. Today, perhaps, it could work. But not tomorrow. Certainly not years from now. And I won't have you ruin what you could have trying to keep everyone in your life appeased." I almost want to laugh, almost.
The man who looks ten years younger than I telling me I'm young. If I didn't know any better...

"Does that make any fucking sense?" Is he smiling? No, not really. "Oddly enough, I think I can follow it." I say, rubbing my temples. Get up and start pacing. "But it's..... Dorian... I don't have centuries. I only have now. Maybe another thirty, forty years of now. And it's Excolo, for all I know, I'll be dead in a week. It's a good fucking possibility." My voice is rising, and I clench my fists and inhale sharply, trying to regain my self control, and turn back to face him.

"Dorian, I appreciate that you're thinking of my happiness, I really do, it means the world to me. But guess what? You're in my life. I consider you a part of it now." Shrug and smile pathetically. "I love it when your around. I miss you when your not. I worry about you. I hate that haunted look I catch in your eyes, and I care enough about you to want to make it go away. I consider you my lover... but more than that, I consider you my friend. One of my best."

Sigh heavily and sit down on the bed next to him. "You want me out of your life, fine, I'll go. I... I won't fight you. But don't think you're doing it for me. Because you'll be taking away a part of my life that makes me very happy indeed."

Look down at the bed, away from his eyes. Slowly, my hand creeps across the cover towards his... but I stop at the last second, a mere inch from his. As much as I want to cover his hand with mine, I can't, for fear he'll pull it away.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Damn it. My eyes find a place far-off, a notch on the well-traveled bookshelf somewhere between Chaucer and Poe, and stay there. It's cowardice, pure and simple, but better than actually looking to Wanda as she speaks. Why can't she just take the bloody answer I give and be done with it? I'm not in the mood for this, not capable of dealing with her or the rest of this godforsaken town right now. If she'd just leave me alone, her and the lot of them, I'd be fine.

Fuck.

Because I can't help but finally look to her when she sits down beside me, because there she is, soul-barred and still so beautiful, close enough that I could reach out and touch her. I want to, that's the most frightening part. I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her I've been an idiot. I want to keep going down this road, end result be damned.

When did I start caring?

It's an unnerving thought and I find myself on my feet, quickly from the bed as though some invisible string had been pulled. "How easy it must be for you, to speak on love and friendship and other things you can barely understand." My voice is coming out sharp, cold, and I can't stop the pang of guilt in my chest at it, no matter that the words keep coming. "You're right. You don't have forever. So why spend it here? You have the luxury of a life to be lived, instead of an existence. To be tolerated."

I've said too much already, I know that even as I speak, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm not getting through to her. And no matter my reasoning, for my sake or hers, she has to understand. I can think on the whys later.

I move back towards the bed, leaning towards her a bit. "You think you love me, but it's nothing but passing fascination. Emphasis on the passing. You don't even know who I am."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

For a second, just a second, I think I got through to him. For a second I think Dorian will close the distance between us--- and then he's up and putting distance between us. "How easy it must be for you, to speak on love and friendship and other things you can barely understand." I bite my lip hard, tasting blood. There are a thousand things I could scream at him right now, but it would get me nowhere.

"You're right. You don't have forever. So why spend it here? You have the luxury of a life to be lived, instead of an existence. To be tolerated." I glower at him now. "Funny thing that, I was living it, finally. I spent four years here, in Excolo, having an existence. Hiding from my past, my life, myself. Denying myself happiness, close friends, even pleasure. And then Lucien found me again.... and then I found you.... and for the first time in fucking years I let myself feel again. So please do not presume to tell me how to live." My voice lowers to a heated whisper now. "And don't you dare tell me I do not understand love or friendship. Take a good, hard look at my situation with Lucien, and with Miao..... I think I understand both those concepts better than most."

"You think you love me, but it's nothing but passing fascination. Emphasis on the passing. You don't even know who I am." He's closer now, taunting me. I am so mad now I am shaking. I want to lash out and hit him, gods help me I do.
Rise from my spot to face him, still trembling from the weird mixture of absolute anger and terror and heartbreak. "You are right about one thing, Dorian. I don't know you. I don't even know your surname so I can scream at you properly." I say softly, meeting his eyes and refusing to back down. "You probably know more about me than Miao does..." And I laugh at that, and there's a tinge of hysteria in it. "Here I am. laying my heart out to a virtual stranger, and I don't even know your name."

Cover my face for a moment, and resist the urge to scream, or hyperventilate. Okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, okay, okay....
I can feel the shaking is more pronounced, and I look up into those grey eyes I adore. "A smart person would give up now and walk away, right? Pack it it with the remaining pieces of their heart and leave?" I wait for him to give the barest of nods. "Yeah well,..." Laugh a little as the tears start again. "I'm stupid."

Before He can think on what I just said, I close the distance between us and slide my arms around him neck, pulling his face down to mine, and I kiss him.

And I pray it's not the last time.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

She's shaking and I hate myself for it, more over hate myself for even caring at all. It would be so much easier to hate her, foolish thing that she is with notions of love and friendship and everything so easily washed aside by time and decay. I can't, though. Not just now. Maybe later, as the years I'm so fond of recalling take this away as well, Excolo and all those who lived her, whose bones and ashes fill the earth. But not now.

Wanda laughs and I look up, pulled from my thoughts, and the look of surprise only deepens as she leans forward, pressing her lips against mine.

There's heat there, there always is between us, but a yearning as well. Some heartbreaking desire that calls to me, to a strange part inside that finds kinship there. My hands go to her shoulders, to push her away, and I pull her closer instead. Even I don't know why and I'm so sick of questioning it that I don't.

We kiss until there's nothing left, finally pulling away with heaving chests and gasps for air. "You are a fool" I say in a ragged voice, throat tight. "I can't help but find it endearing, Wanda. But I want what's best for you. And myself, I suppose. Can you really sit there and tell me this will work? That you don't even care..."

My eyebrows come together suddenly. "Have you talked to Lucien?"

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Gods help me, he goes still when I press my lips against his, and when Dorian places his hands on my shoulders, I think he's going to push me away. If he does, then I am done. I don't know what else to do, and I have so very little left---

so when he actually pulls me tight against him and returns the kiss, I whimper slightly against his mouth and clutch at his shoulders.

An eternity passes before the mutual decision that breathing is indeed a good thing occurs to us, and we part. I don't let him get away though, and I slide my hands down his arms to keep his fingers entwined with mine. "You are a fool.. I can't help but find it endearing, Wanda." "I am a fool, and stupid, and pig headed, and focused..." I concede, laughing tiredly.
"But I want what's best for you. And myself, I suppose. Can you really sit there and tell me this will work? That you don't even care..." Shake my head a bit, smiling. "I won't care that you'll still be the way you are right now?... The man who will never change is worried about how I will feel as time goes by? Is that what you're asking? And here, I'm terrified that in another five, ten years, when I've changed, you won't look at me in that way that makes me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet...
quite the pair, aren't we?" Bring up his hand and place a kiss in his palm.

Something occurs to him then and he gets a serious look. "Have you talked to Lucien?" Cock an eyebrow and shrug my shoulders. "Usually on a daily basis, he does live with me you know." I tease, but he's still staring at me so.
"Talk to Lucien about what?" I ask, leading him back to the bed and sitting down again.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Wanda leads me back to the bed and fuck if I don't follow along like some lost puppy. "Nothing of any importance" I immediately reply as we sit, fingers still intertwined and the taste of her on my lips. I pull her down even further, until we are lying on our sides with our hands between us. "I'm used to what I am. I see things change and, well, that's the one thing that stays the same..." I somehow manage a small smile. "Besides, I happen to like my women with a little experience."

Silence falls between us and my hand moves up to her hair, brushing a strand from her face with a sigh. Finally I speak up, moving forward before I change my mind. "My appearance doesn't change, but... I am a very old man. And I've done a great deal of things, some good and some bad. Some... Recently." My hand lingers on her arm, skin barely grazing skin as my fingers hover just above. "I'm not who you think I am."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I think this is a step up from where we were thirty minutes ago, granted, when I pictured us in this bed tonight, it was NOT having a serious conversation.
Still, lying side by side, just talking instead of fighting... I'll take it.

"I'm used to what I am. I see things change and, well, that's the one thing that stays the same..." there's that look again, that flash of a haunted look, and then it's gone, replaced with a quirky smile. "Besides, I happen to like my women with a little experience." My lips quirk up a bit too. I want to make a joke about experience is one thing, arthritis is quite another, but I decide against ruining the tentative calm.

It seems though, that my Dorian is now in a mood to talk. "I am a very old man. And I've done a great deal of things, some good and some bad. Some... Recently. I'm not who you think I am." His fingers are gentle, as is his tone, but there is such a weight to it. I open my mouth to protest, but he is right. For as much as I've seen and felt, I don't know him. Sigh and reach over to trace his jaw. "You're right, Dorian... we don't know each other well." Think about what he just said. "Some bad.... recently.....
you don't have to tell me, you know that right? But I am here and will listen... if you want to tell me."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

I keep my eyes on the slow progression of my fingers along her arm, the barest of grazes against her skin as the seconds tick by and her question hangs in the air. Damn.

I don't think I can bear to go over it again, even after the sleep Lucien was kind enough to give. It's enough to go out after dark, even across the street, and the idea of sleeping alone has almost sent me running to their bed on more than one occasion. No. Somehow speaking of that is worse than what I did. I can handle being the bastard.

"I almost imagined Lucien would have told you. He mentioned he wouldn't, but..." A small shrug. "Glass." I finally look to her, eyes hard. "I beat her near to death. Oscar as well. I think he fared a little worse, actually. Don't really... Remember."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Silence hangs heavy in the air after I offer. Finally, he speaks. "Glass. I beat her near to death. Oscar as well. I think he fared a little worse, actually. Don't really... Remember."

Well, I can honestly say, I did not expect to hear that. Release the breath I realize I was holding.
Okay, what does one say to that? "That's why Lucien was so tired the other week." I say slowly, not dropping my eyes or showing any shock or horror.
"There is obviously more to that. Some catalyst. Just like...." Lick my lips and decide a truth for a truth is needed here. "Just like the night I could have honestly whipped Lucien to death if he couldn't heal himself. At the time I forgot it... and there was so much blood... he's still covered in scars."
Look away for a moment, trying to wipe the image from my mind. "I won't...." Shake my head. "You don't have to say anymore. I can't imagine what set you off enough to beat someone like that, even accidentally, and I don't want to make you relive it."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

It seems forever before she speaks again and I have to fight the urge to jump from the bed, toss her out the back door and forget this whole damn conversation ever happened.

When she finally speaks, her voice is steady and it's somehow worse than if she'd gone into hysterics. Perhaps because it's so out of place with what I was expecting, what I could have been wanting. I honestly can't say.

"Just like the night I could have honestly whipped Lucien to death if he couldn't heal himself. At the time I forgot it... and there was so much blood... he's still covered in scars."

It comes out of no where. She looks away and I let her, more to return the favor as she collects herself.

"I won't.... You don't have to say anymore. I can't imagine what set you off enough to beat someone like that, even accidentally, and I don't want to make you relive it."

Another stretching silence. It's only when I realize how it could be taken that I slip my hand around her waist, nuzzling slightly at her neck until our eyes meet again. "So do you still want to stay tonight?"

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I think my reaction to his confession, or lack of reaction thereof, catches him off guard. Can't say I am at all happy with the fact that he could have killed one of my friends, or anyone else. And whatever happened, it shouldn't excuses it....
but I know I only have a part of the story. And Damn you Lucien, oaths be damned! You should have told me!

After I confess what preys on my conscious, the room goes quiet again. Start fiddling with the tie of the robe, starting to wonder if maybe I shouldn't just leave, when his arm slips around my waist, and his lips brush against the column of my throat. "So do you still want to stay tonight?"

Yes. No. Maybe. Should have left an hour ago. Sigh a little and smile. "Well, I did bring dinner, and I am out of books to read at home." I say lightly, indicating the shelves of books surrounding us, waving airily with my hand, then lay my hand on his chest and curl tighter into his embrace. "Yes, Dorian, if you'll have me, I want to stay."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

She takes a little too long to think on the answer for comfort and that goes more to speak for the tension in the room than anything else. I sigh a bit when she mentions dinner, pulling her closer still.

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go." I press a kiss into her hair, relaxing a bit. "You wanted me, so now you'll have to deal with it, won't you?"

I don't think I could stomach dinner at the moment, no matter that I was ready to cook something up myself only so long ago, so we simply lie there for some time, myself trying to be content and finding it's a little easier as the minutes roll past.

"Gray" I finally state, breaking the silence. "My surname is Gray."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go. You wanted me, so now you'll have to deal with it, won't you?" Oh, I can't help it, I grin against his shoulder and giggle. "Oh the horror! How will I survive, having to suffer your company?" Once the giggling passes, I sigh contentedly and slide my arm up around his neck, idly playing with the hair curling at the nape of his neck.
You asked me once not to give up on you, well I won't. I'm not letting you go either, my friend.

As we lie there, the quiet of the room settling over us like a blanket, I feel his body slowly relax against mine.
"Gray" The word comes from nowhere, and I lift my head a bit to look at him, questioningly.
"My surname is Gray." I push myself up to a sitting position next to him. "Dorian Gray..... Dorian Gray." I say softly, as if tasting the name on my lips. My lips quirk for a minute, because now I have his proper name to yell at him when I get mad, and I would tease him about that too, but something else stirs in me, pushing silliness aside.

With gentle fingers, I reach down and cup the side of his face with my hand. "I am very pleased to make your aquaintance, Mr. Dorian Gray." I say, as if we're meeting for the first time. Which maybe, we are. The thought of that makes me smile, an honest smile, but full of promise. Push him down gently, so he's on his back, and I slide my body on top of his so I am stradling his hips, smiling down at him. The robe, which was too big to begin with, slips off a shoulder, exposing a shoulder and the top of my bra.
I don't even bother moving to cover myself.
"I am Wanda von SacherMosch, and I have a question for you, Mr.Dorian Gray...have you ever gone dancing in the rain?"

Lean over and once again, cover his lips with mine, claiming them in a gentle kiss as I wind my arms aound his neck and stretch my body out on top of his.
No need to rush... we have all night to dance, he and I.