It would be a lie to say Rebecca was not slightly disappointed. It was date night for the girls and they had made reservations at a nice Italian restaurant. It was shaping up to be a nice start to a romantic evening that Rebecca was looking forward to after a long week with almost fourteen hours of overtime at the shop.

It was both of their faults that neither of them checked to see if their regularly scheduled date night fell on Agnes's molting cycle. Rebecca was already at the restaurant when she received a call from Gina, who was doing her best to handle a sugar-crazed Agnes.

Rebecca offered to come back and help, but Gina assured her that it was under control, and Rebecca did not have to hurry. There would be a few hours before the cocoon-process would be underway, which Rebecca would want to be by Agnes's side for.

Until then, Rebecca was already at her table and starving, so there was no point in skipping dinner, even if it meant sitting there alone. She was the picture of a girl stood up by her date, sitting there in a nice purple cocktail dress, but she did not hold it against Agnes. It was her "time of the month," and they both let it slip their minds. Rebecca would just tell her waiter she would be eating alone the next time he came by, she thought with a noticeable look of disappointment on her face.

Failed missions were unacceptable.

Unless, of course, the target backed out. As long as the illusion as still up, it hardly mattered. Rich people weren't as tricky as they thought themselves to be, and even if one housewife found herself in love with her husband all over again after all these years, it didn't mean that the marriage wouldn't fall apart all over again. The cougar that Rhythm was currently playing kitten to had just informed her, however, that their...'arrangement' was going to be cut off, though Rhythm was thanked for her time and company. Rhythm herself was polite, her tone still calm and sweet despite being slightly irritated that she was dressed up with nowhere to go. She sat in her car in the parking lot, lips pursed and twitching from side to side in an irritated manner as she looked in the huge glass window of the restaurant. Not five star by any means, but the woman wanted to keep their 'arrangement' low key, and this was a spot she liked.

Rhythm climbed out from the car (one of the many from Sanctuary) and stood up, her tall five foot eleven stretching out slightly as she did so. She smoothed the almost painted on black dress down her front and back, the slit coming up to her thigh on the left side making a toned, muscular leg stick out in a teasing manner. The dress was suppose to seduce and entice, to draw attention to the flat six-pack Rhy was so proud of, to her ample chest. Her snow white skin made her stick out more, her piercing red eyes still looking through the window as she stalked towards the restaurant until her eyes settled on the thing she'd been hoping to find.

Prey.

The thief brushed her hair back, the silky gloves that adorned her arms going to her elbows feeling soft and smooth against her face. Ruby red lipstick was a must for her, as it matched her eyes and contrasted so much with the rest of the outfit that Rhythm found people usually stared at them as opposed to the cleavage she was showing. And while Rhythm was rather proud of her body, she was most proud of the long legs that carried her. She tried to balance out the need to feel feminine with her need to train in her martial art style, and needless to say that balance was hard. But if the amount of looks she was garnering were of any indication, Rhythm figured she was doing a good job on that front to. She appreciated the attention, of course, but ever since Syn had come into her life it hardly mattered. Not anymore, anyways.

“'Scuse meh, Firefly...” Rhythm purred out, her New Orleans accented voice sticky like honey as she stopped in front of the pretty little redhead that was sitting all by her lonesome. “Ah dun suppose dis seat be taken, non? Judgin' from da look on yer face, ah'm guessin' dat whoeva ya was suppose ta beh meetin' done canceled. Maybeh...maybeh ol' Rhythm can beh takin' her spot, ya?”

Rebecca looked up out from her daze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. It was not often that the young Scot could complain about the accent of another, but this was one of the rare cases where her brain had to take a moment to ingest everything the young woman said and piece together a translation.

Evidently, the girl's name was Rhythm (which was odd in and of itself,) and she was requesting to join Rebecca at her table. It was not until Rhythm pointed it out that Rebecca knew she was wearing her emotions on her face, a fact that caused Rebecca to feel guilty as though she had come out and complained about Agnes not making it.

Still a bit stunned, Rebecca gave Rhythm a once-over, which did not help to unstun the poor girl. The black dress clung so tightly to Rhythm's body that the girl's defined form was more or less on display, as was the contents of her bosom and much of the length of her smooth, toned legs.

It took a moment for Rebecca to regain her composure after taking in the sights, which of course left her with a light coat of pink against her freckled cheeks. Rebecca considered telling the girl that she was better off getting her own table, but that felt like she was judging Rhythm solely on her outfit, which was not fair. Besides, it was not like Rebecca had a dining partner for the evening, and taken or not, there was no harm in trying to make a new friend, right?

Still recovering from the aftershock of embarrassment, Rebecca replied, "I-if you want, yoo're more then welcome to." Rebecca held her hand out as an invitation for a handshake. "Ah'm Rebecca. It's nice tae meet you."

“Thank ya, Firefly.”

Ah, such a sweet accent. It fit her too, Rhythm thought, her head tilting sideways as she licked her lips unconsciously before sitting down. She took a moment to cross her long legs,
hoping that the young redhead across from her didn't notice the fact that she wasn't wearing any undergarments. She did have a stash in the car, sure, but she didn't think it would matter. Besides, the cougar she was meeting here didn't want Rhythm to wear any panties, and who was she to argue with that? It was a strange request, as the thief never had any sexual encounters with any of her marks, but her cougar didn't bother to explain and Rhy hadn't bothered to ask. Though it did tickle her that Rebecca here didn't even bother disputing the fact that the date that was suppose to be here was, in fact, a she.

Blood red orbs locked onto mismatched blue and green, and Rhy flashed her most charming smile in an effort to make the woman across from her a little more comfortable. Part of her training in the Cat's Paw was her social ability, and Rhy was pretty happy with how far she'd come from the stuttering state she'd been in for years while living on the streets, barely being ale to communicate much of anything.

“Ya done got tha most stunnin' eyes ah've eva seen dere Firefly...” Rhythm stated, trailing off as she enjoyed said eyes and slightly narrowing hers in mirth at the redhead's obvious discomfort. The thief winked before she took a small glass of water that was in front of her and took a delicate sip. “So, tell meh 'bout yerself, gorgeous. Dun be leavin' nuttin' out, cause Rhythm wants ta know how someone could leave a pretty lil morsel like you high an' dry.”

Rebecca was unsure how to reply to her newly appointed nickname, but it made her feel cute, or at least like Rhythm found her cute, which was flattering. Rebecca was not the best at accepting compliments, let alone complimentary nicknames, so she just elected to smile and reply, "You're very welcome."

Rhythm took a seat and crossed her legs, granting a clearer image of her long legs and...

Smooth...

Rebecca's eyes widened when that brief moment of... unexpectedness made the transition to her mind. She felt scarlet and luminescent, owning up to her new moniker as a firefly.

The blushing continued into being told her eyes were stunning. It was a compliment she had received before from Agnes and even friends, so why did it feel so... dangerous coming from the lips of Rhythm. "Th...thank ye... yours are quite striking, too..." One compliment for another was fair, right? It was the truth anyway; the red eyes were quite a rarity comparable to her mismatched set.

Rhythm's personality was definitely... familiar. Rebecca almost envied people who could speak to anyone like they were old friends, (or possibly bedfellows, by Rhythm's tone...) "There's nae much tae say... Ah'm jist a lass from Scotland who'll be a student at Columbia U next month..." When put on the spot, it was hard to really give a fair description of one's self? Where are you even supposed to start?

She was also asked on the matter of the missing piece of her set at the table. That would be even harder to explain, so she settled on vague. "It's nae her fault... she's nae feeling well, sae Ah'm prolly gorna eat quick an' gae take care of her." Not feeling well was an understatement, but everything else was true. "How aboot you? Ah mean, you're a, well, lovely lass yourself." Lovely was the plainest choice she could choose from the many options in her poet's mind, such as "sensuous," "vivacious," or "voluptuous," all of which left her feeling guilty for even thinking them while her girlfriend was stuck in a sugar-craze at home.

The shy ones were always fun to tease.

It was one of the many things Rhythm actually enjoyed about her being a con artist. The different mix of personalities the thief had been exposed to allowed her to get a feel for many different people. Her training in The Cat's Paw was diverse and vast, and most of it didn't even begin until Rhythm could learn to exchange a dozen or so words before deciphering the personality and disposition of her current target. And while Rhy liked to think she was accomplished in her art, she knew she was far off from being any sort of 'Grand Master'. But, really, one of the easiest emotions to read was hurt and guilt. Two things the redhead before her had heaps of.

Of course, Rhy also knew that the one thing that separated your average, low brow con artist with one of her caliber was presentation. Well, among other things, sure, but presentation was a big one. If you looked and acted the part, no one had trouble believing you. With her altered looks and exotic red eyes, there weren't many that Rhythm had encountered that questioned her background at all. And now she 'acted the part', butt scooting a tad forward in her chair as she leaned back, her pose comfortable though her eyes were predatory and slightly narrowed. The brunette listened to everything the redheaded minx said, savoring the accent as if she could taste it.

“Meh?” Rhythm waved a hand in a dismissive motion. “Not much ta say, gal lovely. Jes like ya, had mah date canceled. She...ahhh...well, guess she decided she loved 'er husband afta all.” A beat. “But dat be neitha here nor dere, Firefly. Ah'm guessin' yer hungry an' ah can't beh assed ta go lookin' fer anotha pretteh lady ta keep me company fer dah night. So...yer it. Doubt ah could find such elegant company anywhere else, if'n ah could be honest. Least none with sucha radiant smile...”

The redhead's mind was struggling to put together the pieces Rhythm had laid out for her regarding her own cancelled plans. "Were you... dating th' married woman?" Why would someone who had chosen the love of her life continue a romantic relationship with another, even of the other was a seductive southerner? "Did her husband mind?" The idea of being with someone who was married left Rebecca's skin crawling with guilt.

It was not a one-way street, either. The idea of being on a date with another woman while being married felt just as strange to Rebecca. Even though Agnes was just her girlfriend, she could not imagine going on a date with a second girl.

...Except she was now sitting at a restaurant with another woman who was clearly dressed for a date (or more, she mentally added, remembering the unexpected sight.) Suddenly, Rebecca felt much less comfortable sitting with Rhythm.

Still, it would have been rude to tell Rhythm to leave when she had been nice thus far. She would just do her best to clearly set their guidelines. "Aww, thank you kindly. An' Ah'm glad tae have you as well; it's always nice tae find a new friend."

Rebecca wanted to move into a new conversation, but her mind would not let her drop the question it was trying to wrap itself around. "Sae...what's it like dating a married lass?"

“Mind?” Rhythm blinked slowly a few times before barely restraining the laughter that bubbled on her lips. “Oh darlin', ah'm pretteh sure he woulda...if'n he knew.” The thief offered a small shrug. “Guess dat's half da thrill, yeah? The sneakin' an' such? But I dun suppose a girly like ya would know o' such tings, hm?”

She looked uncomfortable, and Rhythm giggled inwardly at it. She certainly was cute, and there was something about her that made the thief want to snatch her up and cuddle her. But then again, the actual need to pick up this delightful little morsel wasn't really there. She had a Syn waiting at home, after all, and her only reason to be here was to get a free meal, right? Rhythm inwardly nodded, her desire for a good steak overriding her common sense at the moment. It usually didn't, but she was hungry dammit!!

“Datin' a married woman is no differen' than datin' anybody else, ta be honest.” Rhythm began, the heels she had on slipping off as a leg snaked out, Rhythm's toe touching the redhead's ankle and slowly moving upwards. “Olda women...dey're fun, savvy? More...sensual. More privy and...flexible when it comes to dere...sensibilities.” She, of course, had stockings on and was pretty sure the feel of her foot slowly moving up the other woman's leg was bound to being more of a blush to her face. Rhythm leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as her foot reached Rebecca's knee.

“Ah dun suppose my darlin' lil Firefly could spring for mah meal, could she?” Rhythm purred sweetly, resting her chin on laced fingers. “Ah'm sure ah could...pay ya back. Somehow.”

So Rhythm really was in the business of dating involved women behind their spouse's backs. The very idea of being involved in an unfaithful relationship from any end felt grimy to Rebecca, but she held her tongue; Rhythm seemed like an adult in her own right, and she was entitled to make her own decisions, regardless of how Rebecca felt about them.

Rebecca listened on as Rhythm explained her experiences dating older women. A tingling sensation flashed through her body when Rhythm's bare foot made contact with Rebecca's ankle. The tingle turned into a constant pulse sending shivers up and down her spine as the toes caressed their way up her leg. Even while Rhythm was describing her affair with another woman, there was something about the girl's dedicated red gaze (and overly familiar advances under the table) that left Rebecca feeling like she should have been wearing something more concealing. Like a parka. Even that probably would not have been enough to keep the southern girl's eyes from dismantling her wardrobe, where she would find a body painted crimson with a full-figure blush.

Rhythm asked if Rebecca could pick up the check. As the stranger's toes found her knee, she probably would have signed away the rights to her first hypothetical child if it meant the unabashed flirtation would stop; the poor girl could only take so much at one time. "Sure, Ah can play-- pay. Ah can pay." Damn Freud. "Maybe some day you can pay for a nice double-date; me an' mah girlfriend and you and one of your girlfriends," she teased, making a clear attempt at working her girlfriend into conversation to remind them both that she had one.

“Play, hm?” Rhythm smiled fully, showing a row of impressively white teeth. “Kinda makes me wondah how someone like my lil Firefly actually plays. Rough, maybeh, ah can see dat in ya. And...a risktaka, perhaps? Ah betcha like ta play where da chance of ya getting' caught is...Mmmm...” Rhythm purred out, closing her eyes as if she were imagining the scene right there, her foot now daring to slide up Rebecca's dress and to a pale, toned thigh. “And as fer a double date, ah'm sure we could. Though ah do love how ya think ah have multiple girlfriends, love. Makes meh feel wanted with a side of slutty.”

Rhythm laughed, feeling a little giddy. She wasn't at all offended by Rebecca's comment. In fact, she loved it. It wasn't that she felt 'tied down' to Syn at all, or anything involving 'typing up' in the first place. Ever since her 'makeover; in New Orleans, the thief had liked feeling...sexy. Looked at, perhaps envied. Ever since Syn and herself had started dating, Rhythm had felt as if other people looked at her less. And while such a thing wouldn't have normally bothered her, her profession didn't really allow for such a thing to happen. But Rebecca's reactions and words made her feel slightly better.

“Ah actually do have a girlfriend ya know.” Rhythm found herself saying. Protocol dictated that you always present yourself as someone who's available and willing, but even as she leaned back and slung an arm over the back of her chair to present more of her...assets, Rhythm wasn't too concerned about it at the moment. This was just a random meeting, after all, and not with a client. Nothing about this particular meeting would have lasting repercussions. “But, dat be neitha here nor dere. Why not order our food, ya? Ah'm starvin', and as slim as ya be ah'm pretteh sure ya be hungry as well. Yer stomach, she tells me dis.”

Rebecca's face was stuck in a state of shock, unable to respond as Rhythm sized up her dinner partner in a rather unexpected way. No one ever looked at the shy Scot and assumed she was a crockpot of hormones and danger. "N-not really," she replied meekly. Unfortunately, the vivid memory of herself and Agnes on the library floor made its way to the forefront of her mind. "Well, maybe the one time in th' library..." she muttered, letting the sentence trail off. She had already shared too much with the dangerous woman who was taking far too many privileges with her exploratory toe-touch. Rebecca did her best to press her knees together to form a clear blockade against what Rhythm was implying. (Or offering, she came to as an uneasy afterthought.)

Rebecca felt faint traces of guilt about the implications she made regarding Rhythm, but it was hard to truly want to apologize when the girl came to the restaurant with a married woman. Still, being told Rhythm had a girlfriend put Rebecca more at ease, even if the girl obviously had a less-than-traditional view on monogamy and a dress that was like a display case.

Rebecca nodded to Rhythm's suggestion, and as though the waiter had been listening in, he arrived no less than fifteen seconds later to take the table's orders. The man was young and fit in the way a movie actor would, with the smile to match. If she was not so modest, Rebecca could have sworn he was checking the girls out subtly as he mentioned the specials. (Well, he could hardly be blamed for giving Rhythm a once-over, but Rebecca would not have thought anyone besides Agnes would have given her a second glance.)

Rebecca looked at the options and finally settled on her choice. "The eggplant parmigiana, please."

Looking across the table, something came over Rebecca. She could not let Rhythm have all the fun, right? With a grin and an almost mischievous look in her eye, Rebecca asked, "An' what woulds you like, darling?" She added plenty of sweetness and warmth on the pet-name; if Rhythm wanted to know how she played, Rebecca had to wonder if Rhythm would play along.

Rhythm continued to let the smaller girl fumble through her words and only showed her amusement with a crooked grin. While this had merely started off as a bit of practice and manipulation, it had quickly turned into something quite...fun. The girl was unbelievably cute and her mannerisms were adorable. The sexy accent added to the package, and the red hair made the thief feel slightly nostalgic for her own natural color, which was no long gone thanks to the cosmetic changed that Echo had used. The mention of a 'library' made Rhy's grin turn a tad bigger, but she was feeling merciful at the moment and decided to let it slip by. Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't bring it up later at a more inappropriate interval. Like, perhaps, the next time the ogling waiter showed up.

>>[/b] "An' what woulds you like, darling?"[/i]

The brunette could only blink, a look of surprise showing up on her face for a fraction of a second before she neutralized it. This one was a quick learner, if not someone who wanted to try and keep up anyways. Still, Rhythm knew she was leagues ahead of her, though that didn't stop her from giving her a Citizen Kane-style clap inside of her mind before she gently pushed her probing foot forward, the appendage now resting on the redhead's chair and much too close to outright turning this into something awkward for comfort. But Rhy didn't move and instead wiggled her toes, liking how they felt rubbing on the other woman's milky thighs.

“Steak, please. Medium rare.” Rhythm drawled in a strong tone, not even bothering to look in his direction as she almost dismissively handed him the menu. Her eyes were locked onto Rebecca the whole time, her smile predatory. “Dun beh skimpin' on da potatoes neitha, boy. Plenty o' vegetables on da side.”

Sometimes you had to add a little bass in your voice to make sure the underlings paid attention to you. It was something she was taught, and something she often used to her advantage. Rhythm knew she could have an intimidating presence, and her whiskey-on-the-rocks voice often captured ears without her meaning to. But it certainly left an impression, and the waiter actually bowed a bit before walking off to put in their orders.

“Well...dat's what ah beh wantin' fer dinnah.” Rhythm tilted her head slightly, eyes dipping to the redhead's neck and cleavage. “Dessert...well. Ah guess we'll be seein' where da night be takin' us, no?”

It only took a moment for Rhythm to get on the same page as Rebecca, but once she was there, she reminded Rebecca that this was the black haired girl's turf. Rhythm's toes also reminded Rebecca that they were willing to claim any part of Rebecca as "her turf." Rebecca considered swatting away the foot, but now she felt as though she had offered a challenge and Rhythm was waiting for her to back down. Rebecca slid her hand down her thigh to Rhythm's foot, drawing circles on the top of her foot with a light touch of her finger.

Rhythm ordered her food, as well as an after-dinner treat with her eyes, Ignoring her blushing, Rebecca forced a grin, keeping full eye contact with her opponent. "Well, Ah'd be rude nae tae induldge that sweet-tooth of yours, dornt ye think, sweetheart?"

Rebecca turned briefly to dismiss the waiter, who had gone from intrigued to awkward and confused. "That will be all." Before he could step away, Rebecca thought of a daring plan of action. "Oh, an' a bottle of white zin?"

The man nodded nervously and walked away, his desire to leave the situation greater than his need to check her ID. Turning back to Rhythm, she asked, "Sae, are you twenty-one?" The implication was obviously that Rebecca was not.

>>[/b] "Well, Ah'd be rude nae tae indulge that sweet-tooth of yours, dornt ye think, sweetheart?"[/i][/color]

Rhythm smirked at the question. The girl was trying, and Rhy appreciated it. She like the ones that played along, it made the playing more fun. If you were constantly on the attack, you could only hope you didn't run out of lines and material before the end game...which in Rhy's case was usually a fat check and a devoted woman who would do anything for simply 'five more minutes'. The ones that 'fought back', as it were, were the ones that made everything much more interesting. More difficult, but more interesting nonetheless.

Rebecca dismissed the waiter that came back like a pro, and Rhythm pondered if she was learning from Rhy or she was simply going with the flow and tapping into an inner snob. Either way, it made Rhy chuckle and the waiter to fluster off again. Some people mistaked Rhythm for being a 'man-hater', but the truth was she simple felt little to no pity for the opposite sex when a women appeared to be more dominate or had a personality they didn't know how to handle. It made her seem cruel, but that wasn't the case; Rhythm simply didn't care.

>>[/b] "Sae, are you twenty-one?"[/i][/color]

The thief shook her head in amazement before she wiggled her toes again. She leaned forward, giving only the smallest of nods. So, the redhead was underage. Rhythm preferred older women (which is why she liked her 'job' so much), but younger ones had more...spunk. More...flexibility. She felt slightly guilty thinking that, what with Syn being only two years older than her, but the thought was there anyways. Her mind then drew comparisons between Syn and Rebecca, and the guilt deepened. Of course she didn't show any of this and instead reached across the table again to clasp the other woman's hand.

“Ah do believe ya tink ah would condone underage drinkin', Firefly.” Rhythm tsk-ed, slowly shaking her head. “Ah mean...if'n ya wake up tomorrow handcuffed ta tha bed and din remember me...ah'd consider tha' a personal insult, ya? So how's 'bout ah be drinkin' de wine...and you do yer best ta try an' take advantage of meh while drunk. Deal?”

>> “Ah do believe ya tink ah would condone underage drinkin', Firefly. Ah mean...if'n ya wake up tomorrow handcuffed ta tha bed and din remember me...ah'd consider tha' a personal insult, ya?

Rebecca giggled at the very notion of... well, pretty much everything Rhythm had said. First, it was not a stretch of the imagination at all to believe Rhythm would condone underage drinking. Secondly, the (surprisingly believable) idea that, if not for a set of absent girlfriends, Rhythm would not only take her to bed, but somehow involve handcuffs. (Rebecca thanked her relative innocence for only allowing her to paint a vague image of how.)

There was one more thing even more absurd. "Rhythm, Ah doubt any amount of alcohol'd keep me from r'membering you." She grinned, with surprisingly sincere eyes. Rhythm was certainly going to stick out in her mind far past one night, she was sure.

>> "So how's 'bout ah be drinkin' de wine...and you do yer best ta try an' take advantage of meh while drunk. Deal?”

The waiter returned to the table with the bottle of wine, flourishing it. Before he could pour it, Rebecca held up a hand to stay his efforts. "That'll be fine, thank you kindly," She assured, requesting the bottle.

Once the bottle was in her hand, and the waiter left, once more feeling dejected, Rebecca poured herself a glass. "Ah'm a generous date, bit Ah'm not gorna let you take th' burden o' this bottle on your own, darlin,"

With her glass full, Rebecca poured a glass for Rhythm and placed the bottle on the table. Resting a hand on Rhythm's ankle, (which was, of course, still on her lap,) Rebecca asked, "Ah'll jist have tae make it up tae you some other way?" Rebecca was willing to attempt being flirty, but she was less worldly than her partner, and as such, her threats were vague, and not nearly as taboo as handcuffs.