Sledgehammer had to hand it to the Yanks. They had England licked when it came to clubs. Pubs were one thing, and the United States couldn't really compete. When it was time for a night of drunken indulgence, to him clubs were the way to go. Pubs were more of a place the rest of his family went to. A pub was a warm, inviting atmosphere where you became a family member. Comfort food was served at pubs. Bars were just sleazy, what with the bad wings and the greasy lighting.

Clubs had a little more class to them. You went to a club to see, and be seen. The music wasn't always to his taste, and there was the whole overpriced fruit colored drinks with equally fruity names. It's hard to feel macho when ordering a girl an appletini or a peach bellini. And you always had to order them a drink.

The nice thing was that between the flashing lights and loud music was that Sledge found it easy to let his brain go numb. To him it was the same as sitting in front of a tellie for hours on end. With his mind in a blank state Sledge could sort through things easier. He had just wanted a simple home cooked meal and now was having to follow orders from a preteen. Was he ahead here in the United States? Hard to tell.

Now wait a moment, he thought, spying a well dressed lady out across the floor from him. To be perfectly honest it wasn't the lady that he had noticed at first. Sledge had a fondness for fine clothing and he could spot the high quality threads a mile away. Studying the lady that wore it tugged at his brain, making him think of his first love. Anna? The Brit couldn't help but wonder why she had come to New York. To his knowledge nobody back in England had even gotten a whiff that he was planning on leaving.

The club was a new one for Seyta, not that it was likely to make much difference. Despite the dress she was wearing she never expected much attention from the crowd.

This place did offer a slightly better chance though, the design was roomy enough to leave some people outside her range. That didn't stop Seyta from taking advantage of a table near the bar. She grinned watching the server move back to the bartender for a third time asking for a Pomegranate Royale; all three of which where bought for someone across the room, none had made it past Seyta's seat. It would be enough for the night, and at least it was free.

Scanning her eyes round the room she sighed inwardly, a decent crowd but no-one especially interesting to her. Seyta did apparently catch someone else's eye though. She chuckled, guys never could look without staring. Taking a sip of her drink she returned to her slow scan around the club. She was here alone after all and since she wasn't desprate it was his job to make things worth her while.

"Anna," Sledge addressed Seyta before realizing his mistake. From across the club Seyta had looked like Anna. The haircut was the same style, but the color wasn't right, and her face was longer. There was some slight similarities, but clearly this wasn't the girl that had given him his first kiss. Well, this was an awkward situation. Still, he had made his way across the dance floor, and now he owed the lady an explanation for why he had suddenly shown an interest in her. "Sorry, you just look like someone I know."

He took a seat near enough near Seyta so that he didn't have to shout to be heard over the music. "It's eerie 'ow much you look like her." Not as much as she had when there was distance between the two, but starring straight at Seyta he could see the subtle differences. Unless he was purposefully thinking about the girl in front of him Sledge found it hard not to think of Anna. "My name's Maxwell by the way."

Seyta gave him a wink as he walked over, a little encouragement wasn't any harm. Getting a closer look he wasn't all that bad. A bit taller than her, thin, good looking...worth giving him a chance at least.

>>"Anna..." He paused. "Sorry, you just look like someone I know."

There was strike one, mistaking her for another girl. She finished the first Pomegranate Royale and picked up her second, not drinking it though. "No, it's fine."

>>"It's eerie 'ow much you look like her. My name's Maxwell by the way."

"Hmm, Seyta." He was British, that made things slightly more interesting. That did leave him standing there somewhat awkwardly. Giving him a reason to stay seemed like an acceptable action so she motioned to the other chair at her table. "Want to sit down?"

It really didn't take much to encourage Sledge, a simple wink, a nod of the head, an invitation to sit... If Seyta did not want Sledgehammer to be around she was doing a poor job of it. He didn't even realize that he had messed up something up by calling her Anna. "Gladly," he said taking the seat opposite of her, "Dangerous enough crossing there without dancing." Shamelessly he gave her a dimpled smile.

"Seyta?" he asked, needing confirmation that he had heard right. The music was loud and he didn't know if he was hearing everything correctly. "Lovely name." Sledge's attention was fading away from the noise and the bright lights as he sought out eye contact with Seyta. Even when he was young Sledge had a tendency to focus all his attention on one thing at a time. That was why he really needed to have a good watchman whenever he ran a con. It was entirely possible for him to not notice a police officer until the handcuff was around his wrist. For now Seyta had his full attention.

"What are you drinking?" Sledge was only vaguely interested in what she was drinking. No doubt it was some sort of fruity and light. If he was to play this game though, he would have to know what she wanted to drink and order it at some point. For now Seyta had her drink, and he could simply talk to her. It was just what he needed. No thinking about business, or how much he missed his family back home. Just get bladdered and enjoy the company of a lovely lady.

>>"Gladly. Dangerous enough crossing there without dancing."

Seyta shrugged, dancing wasn't exactly her thing. Taking a few sips for her drink she smiled, looking not quite at him. He was going to have to try a bit harder for a good conversation than that.

>>"Lovely name."

"Thanks..." This wasn't exactly getting him anywhere, just because Seyta hadn't had a date in a while didn't mean she would throw herself at the next nice guy with a cute accent she met. Still, he was was paying attention to her, that took effort. If all it lead to was getting him to pay for extra drinks that was fine with her.

>>"What are you drinking?"

Speak of the devil. She grinned setting down her second empty glass. "Pomegranate Royale... Sweet and strong but not too much." All he needed was a real reason to chat, if he didn't give her one soon he though she'd find someone else worth her effort.

"Did you know that the Goddesses love pomegranates," he posed the question to Seyta. The implication was there that she was a Goddess simply because of what she was drinking. It was him chatting her up. He also couldn't help but think of the old Greek myths and legends that he had loved as a child. Her empty glass seemed as good a reason to keep up the flirtatious talk. He could easily order her a new one, now that he knew what she wanted. But he wasn't an idiot. Giving Seyta her drink this soon would just give her an excuse to send him off.

"Couldn't 'elp but notice your dress," he said, purposefully not looking at it. So far he wasn't doing too badly he thought. If he let his gaze drift down to the dress it might come off as him checking her out. Easiest way to get a lady angry at you was to let them know that you were ogling them. That and telling them that they looked chubby in that outfit. "Lord and Taylors, am I right?" he asked.

>>"Did you know that the Goddesses love pomegranates?"

Goddesses, well not only did he have a cute accent he was old fashioned. Too old fashioned and it would just be another strike against him. "Nope, not much for ancient history." Still if that was an attempt at being compared to a goddess it was decent.

>>"Couldn't 'elp but notice your dress, Lord and Taylors, am I right?"

Seyta nodded, either Maxwell was very good at hiding it or he actually wasn't looking her over. It was worth the risk of finding out. "Yes it is, do you like it?" She scooted her chair back enough for him to get a good view. If his gaze lingered then he was just a pig like everyone else in the club, if it was just a glance and a compliment she might enjoy taking advantage of his kindness for the evening.

"They always have a nice selection for me when I go shopping." Not that she paid for this dress, or the others in her closet, but she wasn't about to tell Max that she was a thief. Besides it was thier fault for not giving an employee discount.

"Completely true," Sledge went on about the fruit and the divine's preference for it, "Hades used one to trick Persephone into being 'is wife. But like you said, you don't care much for ancient history." The conman felt that he was loosing her interest, or maybe worse, wasn't as entertaining a play thing as she had anticipated. Walk away with some dignity man. Oh shut it.

Seyta moved her seat to allow him a better view of the dress that she was wearing. Sledge had seen it before, in the store, having done a shopping trip not too dissimilar to Seyta's. The difference was that she could get things out of the stock room, or simply remove the tag. Sledge went for things that he could sneak out from a paying customer's bag or something that just didn't get those pesky electronic tags. Amazing how little people thought of some accessories. The best technique was to actually go to buy something, let them take the tag off a shirt he had interest in, then, while the employee was preoccupied, slip a different shirt in and trick them into thinking that they had forgotten to remove the tag from that first shirt. Charlie had taught him about quick change artists, people who would use large bills to pay for small totals, then switch the money as the cashier was counting out the change for something smaller. Same basic principle really.

The point was that he recognized the dress. Still, he gave it a thoughtful look before returning his eyes to Seyta's face. Eye contact was always critical. "Well, the print is bold enough, though the colors don't pop as well as they should iffin you really want my opinion. Red and black is such a classic combination, flawless really, but that shade..." Sledge's face told of his displeasure, "Designer could have pushed it a little more I think. Maybe a more vivid green to really make the roses shine. Cut's well enough though, and sitting it looks like a good fit for you."

There. How many straight men could give such an opinion on a dress and not once say anything about how much skin was showing?

His gaze wasn't too long but it was like he studied her, it was odd and somewhat uncomfortable. He was actually looking at the dress not her.

>>"Well, the print is bold enough, though the colors don't pop as well as they should iffin you really want my opinion. Red and black is such a classic combination, flawless really, but that shade..." Maxwell's expression didn't seem to like it much. "Designer could have pushed it a little more I think. Maybe a more vivid green to really make the roses shine. Cut's well enough though, and sitting it looks like a good fit for you."

Seyta sighed leaning on the table, he was either a fashion designer, gay, or both; that was strike two for him. It was possible that he was just a very fashion conscious guy, but with a response like that it was unlikely. "Not a fan of green on black..." Seyta looked down at the now empty drinks on the table. Honestly she didn't want another drink, she had three already. Taking a quick glance round the club she paused at the dance floor and flashed Maxwell an I'm bored smile. Here was his last shot, if he did this right she might let him walk her home. One wrong move and he'd be left on the curb.

Sledge caught Seyta's glance past him and the smile. He knew what was behind him, he had crossed it, and slides one of her empty glasses closer to him to pass back and forth between his hands. Should he go for the drink instead? She had had a few already, the empty glasses spoke of that. By buying her another round he might come across as just another bloke trying to chat her up. Alright, so he was another bloke trying to chat her up, but Seyta didn't need to know that.

The music changed to something that he enjoyed a little more. So far Sledge hadn't drunk enough to impair his coordination or balance. There was a pleasant buzzing in his brain that made him feel like his head was getting fuzzy, but a little physical activity wouldn't result in an embarrassing lack of limb control. He lifted an eyebrow. "Did you want to dance?" Sledge asked, "Or is there a large jealous boyfriend standing behind me?"

Seyta watched Max slide her glass around the table, he wasn't trying to be subtle in his thinking. At least he was thinking it through and not just going for it. Hopefully he had understood her hint.

>>"Did you want to dance?" He raised an eyebrow, "Or is there a large jealous boyfriend standing behind me?"

Boyfriend? Seyta hadn't had a real date since high school. Bad humor aside he did ask, she wasn't that easy to win over though. "I don't know... depends on the song, and on what you call dancing." She did have limits after all, that bump and grind crap wasn't dancing and belonged behind a locked door.

She needed to keep him talking for a bit, get a better feel for him first. Then she'd play along for a bit, let him think he had her in his hands. She had used the same routine before on those rare occasions when a guy payed enough attention to push past her mutation. It worked well, but Maxwell was almost paying too much attention. She started to realize that if he was just a very polite pig she would actually have trouble getting rid of him.

David twisted the glass about in his hand. It wasn’t that he was bored with Seyta, far from it. She was an interesting challenge, more so than the Irish waitress he had met the first day. Maggie had been very obvious with what she wanted from him. Poetry, a flirtatious smile and comment, nothing out of the ordinary. Seyta gave only the most subtle of hints. “Dancing. The rhythmical movement of a body to music in a way that is pleasant to watch. A form of self expression.”

He turned away to glance at the dance floor he had traversed earlier. Those that had been there before were still dancing the way they had. “That is not dancing” he told Seyta, turning back to her. David stared at her, confused as to what they had just been discussing. Not that there could have been that much of a conversation. “Did you want to dance?” he repeated the question from earlier.

The few drinks that he had had must have been to blame for this feeling of déjà vu. The conversation with Seyta felt like a repeat, and he didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or the setting. One pub crawl blends into the other after awhile.

Seyta watched Maxwell play with her glass. At least he was thinking over what he should go before acting. He wasn't a perfect fit for Seyta but it would be workable if he knew how to behave. As long as he got her hint they where on the right track. If nothing else she would be able to enjoy tonight even if this was the last time she saw him.

>> “Dancing. The rhythmical movement of a body to music in a way that is pleasant to watch. A form of self expression.” She watched him turn to the dance floor. “That is not dancing”

Seyta recognized the look of confusion when Maxwell turned back to her, most of her family got the same look whenever she visited. A momentary laps in focus and he nearly lost her. But he managed to keep his focus and he did get her hint.

>> “Did you want to dance?”

Restating the question when you forgot what you had been saying, expected given the situation. "Depends." Seyta stood up and took a step towards the dancefloor. "Can you keep up?"

There's good, and then there's bloody bril, and you are bloody bril, Sledge congratulated himself. Seyta was flirting back with him now. What bothered him was that he didn't know why he had asked her to dance in the first place. The dance floor was crowded, which meant that it was going to be hot and impossible to hear what she was saying, if she chose to speak. He had no issue with dancing in public, and the few drinks he had helped to alleviate any self doubt. It's hard to feel self conscious about your dance skills when your brain is giving everything a case of the warm fuzzies.

Sledge followed Seyta out onto the dance floor, being careful not to let his eyes wander over her too long. That dress did look much better on an actual lady than it did on the mannequin, and now that she was in motion he could truly... appreciate the fit. It was almost enough to make him take back that bit about the colors of it, if only he could remember that moment in their conversation.