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[ Buffy couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor sap that called himself Dean as she watched Izzy work her natural mojo. She hadn't been exaggerating when she said no guy stood a chance against the Shadowhunter. They didn't. Even when Izzy hadn't made up her mind yet if she was interested or not.

It was also amusing to watch from a distance as Dean tried to charm the dark-haired beauty. Maybe on a low watt babe it would have worked but Izzy was viltage and then some.

Honestly, if Buffy was even slightly inclined towards women she'd probably try it herself. But she wasn't. She just knew how to appreciate a good BFF with excellent fashion sense. And especially one that was willing to loan out red leather dresses.

Buffy would have been more at home in her usual red leather pants, but honestly, she was also kind of feeling incredibly on in this thing. There might have been some miracle work happening in the cleavage area since she didn't have Izzy's god-given assets, but other than that she didn't think she looked all that bad.

And the heels. Well.

Buffy couldn't deny she was in love with her own taste in shoes. At least know she had an outfit that did them justice. She pinned another would be suitor with her best Slayer glare and took a sip of her drink as she finally glanced away from the trainwreck flirt-fest between Izzy and the guy in the flannel shirt. ]

[Izzy, like a good bro, had given Jace a heads up where she and Buffy were going to be partying tonight. Actually it had been more of a "we're having a girls' night, stay away" heads up, but it was all the same to him. She had to know he was going to show up, and the fact that she'd wandered off to accost some lumberjack wannabe totally justifies the ~~stalking~~ rescue.

And then he damn near trips on his own feet when he catches sight of Buffy in that dress. Isabelle was definitely trying to kill him. If the slayer didn't manage it first.

Worth the risk, he thinks, and he approaches just as Buffy turns away another would-be whatever, and sneaks up behind her to whisper right into her ear.]

Bored already?

[ Buffy couldn't ignore the shiver that ran up her spine at the sound of Jace's voice. Isabelle would be disappointed, but it wasn't like she didn't know. She had to. So was it really warning Jace so much as encouraging him given that telling him stay away usually meant he'd be there.

She gave one last look to Izzy and the lumberjack before turning her head slightly so that Jace could catch the curve of red-painted lips. Playing coy, or even hard to get with him didn't always work. At least not when she wasn't trying to straight out keep him from staking all of the vampires.

But the dress was giving her a certain kind of confidence and she let the smile continue to play across her lips. ]

My date didn't show.

[Jace hoped for that shiver, runs his fingers up her spine with a feather light touch, but keeps his hands to himself otherwise. For now. He slides up beside her, though, much closer than casual, and leans against the bar. His smirk is confident, he's confident. Not that Buffy is a sure thing, exactly, but that this is going to be fun, however it plays out.]

His loss. [And Jace's gain, if his lips twitching up into a smile is any indication. He doesn't even care if she's just jerking his chain.]

If you'd sent him a picture of you in that dress, he'd come running.

[ There was no 'date'. She was standing there hoping for the cocky blond to appear and here he was. It really was taking everything in Buffy not to move further into his personal space. To sip at her drink instead of touch her hair because that was always a dead giveaway.

And as much as Jace probably had a right to be confident she wanted to make this just a little bit hard for him. At least before she embarrassed herself and caved completely. ]

If I had sent him a picture then it would have spoiled the surprise.

[The chemical kind of high had never been on Jace's radar, really, he preferred release, the physical, pain that meant he was still alive, still fighting. Running, hitting, punching, sex, those were his vices, his escapes, the things that kept him grounded and centered.

Vampires, in his experience, were to be avoided. They talked too much and could fuck with your head, and he wasn't a fan of either. Of course, there were always exceptions, and if they came wrapped up in a sexy red-headed violent package, who was he to deny it? She threw him around like he was a doll but never quite broke him. It was just enough. Every time.

And every time he swore it was the last. Every time he begged her to bite him, make him bleed, he told himself it would be enough.

It was never enough. Just little tastes. She never gave him as much as he wanted, never enough to really feel the high, just enough to want more. And just enough she hadn't become a daywalker.

Somehow, knowing he was toeing that line, the danger of it, made it that much more irresistible.

He hadn't been looking for her, tonight. Not really. Not consciously. Just a routine patrol he'd gotten a little off-course of. The lesser demons were getting braver, lurking closer, starting to make nests in dark alleys and abandoned buildings and Jace was in the mood to set something on fire.]

[ They were more alike than perhaps the Shadowhunter ever wanted to admit. Natasha was old enough to know when to admit to something. She liked the taste of his blood - what vampire wouldn't? She liked leaving him in that constant limbo of wanting more of her venom, of wanting another bite. But she never really did want him to completely fall to the addiction. Then they wouldn't have quite as much fun.

That had been Raphael's mistake with Isabelle. And while it was perhaps another win for vampire kind to have a Shadowhunter once more engaged in a tango with a Downworlder, Natasha had no urge to brag. To make it public. To have other vampires sniffing around Jace. If they did, she would take no mercy.

So yes, there was some - well, a lot - of territorialism at play. He was hers whether he wanted to acknowledge it, or even realised it. And the second she sensed him; smelled him, she was right there in the same alley. He hadn't noticed her just yet. Even in her heeled boots she didn't make a sound as she closed the distance between them.

Leather shorts hugged her hips and ass, showing off her delicious curves. The red blouse she wore was sheer, revealing the black bra that displayed her impressive cleavage. Red-painted lips parted as she ran her tongue over her fangs at the sight of him, and her red hair was partially tied back to keep the strands out of the way should she bite. Or just fight. Everything about her was a trap, and spoke of years of being able to draw in her prey before they even realised they had a problem.

She let him know that she was there with a hand on his hip and a swipe of her tongue against the back of his neck before her mouth was pressed against his ear. ]

Aren't you a little far from home, Shadowhunter?

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everything we do inevitably connects

and I love it aaaaaalllll

somewhere up above this scenario nat is slap-slap-kissing kirk in space lol

looooooool he should be so lucky

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just gonna keep adding to the pile

IDEFK BUT I AM HERE FOR IT

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