The day was hot, sun burning brightly above, and the wind breathed life anew into the world around. Birds sang, trees whispered through their leaves, and even the spirits of the land itself seemed to dance and sway. People hustled by completely oblivious to the wondrous magic of the world around them, cars zooming along the city's streets.

Down an alley toward the city center there was an orange cat, stocky, with a white belly, a white tuft on his tail... Well. You get the idea, an orange alley cat. He laid atop a balcony rafter lazily, yawning and stretching as the sun baked down on him. The heat was nice, and being able to see through the realm of normal as cats seem to do, he fixated on the creatures that danced along the park paths across the street, and through the alleyway into the buildings nearby. A lazy, wonderful, -HOT- day to be a cat...

Thomas stood slowly from the back of the alleyway, dressed to kill... Well, dressed at least. With a smile he looked down and swept his hands over the vest he'd picked off the laundry line. "A perfect fit! This will go swell with my new slacks and shirt!" He chuckled softly to himself before hanging his old clothes on the wire, sure to rush away before the owner of said clothes awoke to him changing.

Turning from the alleyway, he made his way towards another street corner. He was supposed to meet 'Scat' today so they could go and work the park. There were events planned that should have -all- the social elite out. 'Scat' even got them hired to play some music... but then they got fired before show-day...

"Heh... Showbiz. It happens." The third time they'd been hired and fired before ever even playing. Thomas had started to wonder if they should even bother with music. He shook his head as his hands slid into his pockets and he continued around the corner, running smack dab into a beautiful woman...

"Oh! Sorry Miss!" he chuckled out as he caught her before she could fall... Not that she particularly LOOKED like she'd fall, but a grifter's gotta work when they get the chance!

However, before stealing anything from the woman, he paused and blinked. Smitten. That was a word for it. J. Thomas O'Malley was -smitten- by the woman in front of him.

"Oof! Tell me I've not walked into someone's DREAM, baby! You're the most beautiful cat I've laid my eyes on since I hit this city!" He stepped back and shot her a crooked grin.

Beau slid tiredly out of her well-worn tap shoes, carefully unlacing the tight corsette that shaped her lithe frame with languid familiarity before slipping a comfy cotton sheath over her shoulders. The fabric felt like heaven compared to the rhinestone deathtrap she wore on stage, and she luxuriated in the lightness of it as she carefully fastened the trail of tortoise shell buttons leading from neckline to hem. She smiled at her transformation in the mirror as the cacophony of chorus-girls filed into the dressing room behind her. She loved her work, but THIS always felt more natural... more real. And it gave her a glow that even dancing didn't light in her eyes. Slipping into a pair of white mary jane pumps, she paid no mind to the other women's boisterous banter as she carefully tied the ribbon laces into perfect bows to match her sleeves; grinning all the while at their simple perfection. 

"It's not fair you know," a voice echoed casually from behind her, "You could give a man a heart attack in a potatoe sack." 

Beau grinned over her shoulder as a plump little plum of a show girl approached her. "That's why they pay to watch me nude," Beau replied cooly, giving herself a final once-over in the mirror. It was true... although she'd never admit it for herself. Even the simple dress she wore... which would be a mere frock on most... draped her figure fetchingly. "It's just confidence, Betty," she assured her friend with a bashful smile, "A confident woman carries herself differently... MOVES differently. That's all they see, really. It's not me. Just the act." Beau winked playfully, giving the woman's cheek a playful pinch, "And luckily for us both they can hardly ever tell the difference." 

A fluff of her curls and a dab of lipstick, and she was out the door, squinting against the glaring sunlight that illuminated the alleyway behind the cabaret. It was HOT. Hot and bright. And Beau was ever so thankful for the gentle breeze that stirred her little cotton gown across the bare skin beneath. "Oh THANK you," she whispered softly... seemingly to no one in particular... as the hem of her dress fluttered lightly around her calves, almost perfectly in time to the clicking of her pumps against the steaming asphalt. 

The streets were busy today. Surprisingly so, given the warmth. And Isabeaux's normally sharp attention was drawn to the bustling crowds and beaming faces as she made her leisurely way home. Her blonde curls bounced as she sauntered down the road, sidestepping a stampede of small children... followed shortly by the baker who seemed far less amused by their shenanigans. The sunlight glistened off her glittering golden locks as she tossed her head back in tinkling laughter, the faintest of crow's feet touching her bright eyes as she twirled back to the course at hand... and smack dab into the dictionary definition of 'tall, dark, and handsome'. 

My, my, you are my kinda yummy, the voice in Beau's head crooned as the man steadied her unnecessarily. Dumb, but yummy. 

Beau knew the streets well enough, and Seattle was proving no different nor any more inventive than the hundreds of other cities she'd passed through. Silly boy, she thought to herself as she leaned into him, her lithe fingers gracefully dipping nonchalantly into the empty space of his jacket pocket. Damn. No dice.

As his warm hands carefully cradled her waist, Beau patted his chest tenderly; a coy smile gracing her lips as she shot him a dazzling smile that lighted her sparkling saphire eyes like lichfire. "It's.... okay..." Beau trailed off as the man blinked at her, completely taken aback by the dazed expression which he made no effort to hide. She blushed, tucking her hair behind her ears as he complimented her. It was rare she heard such things when fully clothed. Rare and refreshing... and a bit awkward. She wasn't entirely sure how to react. And that crooked grin did her no favours as it stole her cool composure away along with her breath. 

Wordlessly, Beau chuckled; eyeing him up and down as she teased the sidewalk with the toe of her shoe with a bashful smile. "Do you always compliment your marks like that?" she asked... her soft voice sounding far more self-conscious than she'd intended. And, internally... though he'd never know... she scalded herself for the CLEAR need for validation that wavered through her shaking words. She snerkled with an air of self-deprication, her bare bits jiggling enticingly beneath the soft, clinging cotton of  her dress as she bounced ever so slightly on her heels. She was nervous. Isabeaux Duquette, burlesque extraordinaire was nervous. And for what?? A green-eyed street rat that couldn't lift a mark?

For the briefest of moments, she marveled at him... not just at his handsomeness but at his mere presence, and the effect it seemed to have on her. She looked at him as if he was an alien... or a treasure... or something even more foreign and unexpected. For a flicker of a moment in the history of the universe, she was in awe of him. 

... 

And then the moment was gone and she was nervous again. Giggling at herself softly, she fidgetted anxiously stairing at her feet... forgetting entirely that she should MOVE. 

He cocked his head to the side, feigning offense, as his hands came up and pressed against his own chest asking, "Moi? Mademoiselle, your words wound me!" He held the joking pose for a bit before chuckling.

"That obvious, was I? Guess I'm slipping. I'm blaming you." Thomas smirked and winked playfully, but continued, "I fear I do -not- often compliment my marks, milady... So my words ring true. You are, in fact, the most beautiful kitten I've had the privilege of running in to."

Thomas began to circle her as he gave her a -good- once over. "But baby, I'd gladly make you a permanent mark, if ya get me." Again he smirked, mostly to himself, but this time there was a bit of light laughter with it as his hand reached out and danced across her shoulders.

"So riddle me this, kitten... How's a pretty girl like you not on the arm of some big suit in this city?" He twirled as he crossed back in front of her and paused, crouching slightly so he could look up into her eyes... Once their gaze locked he slowly raised his position, dragging her gaze back up with his. He rocked on his heels, but didn't blink or look away. His body swayed slightly as he rocked and he almost looked like a cat sizing up a prey... If that was even possible for a human to have that feature.

"Lemme guess... Too many to count, and they don't really fit your tastes so you play them like the set of stringed hearts that they are?" He finally stood straight and still, crooked grin still on his face.

"Am I right, or way off 'mark' here? I mean, it's not like you picked the right pocket either..." He tugged a decently full clip of money and a zippo from the right pocket of his pants... He turned on his feet and and started to walk, waving for her to join him and continue their soiree. However, before she could even join him he heard the tell-tale sounds of trouble.

"HELP! HELP! I'VE BEEN ROBBED! MY MONEY CLIP! IT'S GONE!"

The voice came from around the corner he was headed towards and he paused, turning back to her...

"Well... That's my queue!" He grabbed her hand and shook it. "Names Thomas O'Malley, but my friends call me Alley Cat. Think you can keep up?" He chuckled as he left the man's money clip in her hand and took off running in the opposite direction. "COME ON! RUN!" He slowed and turned to face her, hoping backward as if waiting for her to commit to running with him, or running away...

Beau smirked and shivered as his fingers traced her shoulders. "Well, no. They don't really fit my tastes. BUT..." she blushed a little as his gaze met hers, "people tend to PAY for my company." 

"On STAGE," she added quickly so as to not give him the wrong idea... not that she couldn't be tipped well enough for a private show, but he needn't know that... yet. Her deep blue eyes rolled as he pulled the clip from his picket, "Wrong angle," she explained flatly. "You'da felt me reach." Partly to tease and partly to underline her point, Beau reached into his left pocket; palm flat as her hand trailed up the soft silk lining, dragging it lightly against his thigh. Her delicate fingers slipped from his pocket as he turned away, but not in time to avoid the ear-splitting yell that echoed down the alley. 

Beau rolled her eyes again with a chortle. "Of course..." 

As the weight of the money clip settled into her palm, Isabeaux grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Unfolding a single bill, she whistled at the man screaming down the alley, waving the money at him teasingly before making a dash toward the alley wall and up a nearby ladder. With practiced ease, her mary janes clamoured to the alley floor below... one after the other... followed by the slowly drifting bill, which gave her just enough time to catch Thomas from above. 

"Catch!" her laughter trickled down just before the money clip... still nearly-full... plumetted into his palm. Keeping pace with him from above, she hissed softly, "Circle back and meet me at the cabaret!" 

Before he could reply, the man from the alley hoisted himself atop the roof, "Dirty whore-thief!" his voice boomed as Beau disappeared across the block - tiptoeing across a conveniently placed laundry line with feline grace and ease... her musical laughter echoing into the streets below just as sirens filled the air. 

Kitten, indeed. 

Thomas laughed gleefully at her display, reaching up for the clip as it came free falling quickly. With a swift snag, he turned to bolt but skidded to a halt as he heard the man's words.

"OYE! THAT'S NO WAY TO TALK TO A LADY!"

Tucking the money into his pocket, he chunked the empty clip at the man on the roof as he paused to look down at the insulting presence of Thomas... And, as if completely by plan, the clip planted itself directly into the center of the man's face. Half surprised, Thomas froze in wonder at the beautifully chaotic happenstance of the moment...

"AHHH! YOU SON OF A~"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH NOW! THERE ARE CHILDREN AROUND!" Thomas interrupted with a sing-song chortle before cracking up and turning to bolt off... At least the man would get his money clip back, right?

"Circle back to the cabaret..." he mused aloud as his legs carried him swiftly down alleys and through crowds until he slowed himself to a casual walk around the next corner, stopping in front of the entrance to the cabaret. "So they pay for your company... on STAGE," he half mimicked the way she'd quickly added her second comment as he chuckled to himself. "You're quite the perplexing little creature, aren't you..." he trailed off trying to remember her name. What was her name? Blinking to himself he paced back and forth, uneasily, in front of the building. "Most beautiful cat in the city..." Thomas began playing over the whole conversation in his head again...

"... It's okay, compliment marks like that. Moi? Words wound me. Obvious. Don't compliment marks. Permanent mark..." He chuckled to himself at that point. "That was good. That was real good. Super smooth cat." He sighed and shook his head. "Dumbass... Where was I? Ah yes," he refocused.

"Why alone? Too many to count, and none my taste." He was certain he looked foolish as he shifted back and forth playing both parts, hands waving frantically about while talking to himself (and worse, answering) in two different voices. "Am I off mark? Oh, wrong pocket!" Again shifting voices and stances, he began speaking as her this time. "No, they -don't- fit my tastes. Also, wrong angle..." He flirted with himself as he stuck his hand in his left pocket and trailed up his own leg... It was all playing out in high-speed in his head as he worked through it. Switching to a THIRD voice, he continued...

"Help, help, theif... Blah blah." His movements were flippant and purposely disrespectful of the man he'd stolen the money clip from before switching back to himself... "Name's O'Malley, my friends call me Alley Cat. Come on... Keep up." Her... "Catch. Circle round... Cabaret." He paused and waved a hand dismissively at the building before switching to the older man... "Dirty," he paused again and purposely omitted a word, "thief..." He stopped pacing and looked at the doors. "Is that any way to talk to... a... lady, DAMMIT! I didn't get her name!" He frowned and stared at the doors. "Don't do it J.T. You're a stray..." he sighed, turning to walk away. The most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on and he was...

Inside the cabaret...

Blinking, not even sure how it happened, because he was CERTAIN he had been moving -away- from the building.

"Fuckin' curiosity..." Thomas mumbled under his breath. "Don't you know it kills... well... me?" he chuckled to himself before shaking his head and making his way into the showroom. He slipped off to a corner and leaned back against the wall, placing one foot on it to relax. His hands instinctively made their way to his pockets and fondled the cash. Now he waited... Simply because he -had- to know her name. Else he could have walked away... Or so he at least told himself. Thought one way or another, curiosity might have found it's hold...

The perfectly aimed shot gave Beau just the time she needed to clear the laundry and shimmy her way down a ladder two blocks over. Before the poor sod could even comprehend what happened, both Beau and Thomas had safely sideled out of sight... his hard earned cash along with them. While Thomas took his time outside the cabaret, Beau slipped quietly in the back door to the dressing room; her bare feet padding softly against the cool concrete. 

"Beau? What are you doing back?? Are you okay?" Betty rushed forward, her mahogany eyes rife with worry as they fell slowly from Beau's disheveled hair down to her conspicuously bare feet. "Ooh... baby, your new shoes," the woman crooned in genuine concern, "You worked two months for those. What happened?" TThat was a really good question. For a moment Beau pause, out of breath and a bit bewildered. "I..." she hesitated, trying to find ANY words ample enough to describe her encounter. "I met a GUY," Beau finally admitted; the air of disbelief clear in her voice. "I met a guy... and we missed a mark.... and I lost my shoes in the chase..." 

Betty shot Beau an incredulous look... partially for the encounter but also because... "YOU met a guy??" The words were playfully skeptical - a mixture of impressed and mock disbelief. "Isabeaux Duquette, Duchess of  Diamonds, MET a GUY?!"  Betty held up the gaudy rhinestone corsette Beau was known for, shimmying teasingly as she cackled, "Well I never thought I'd live to see the day!"

"I KNOW!!" Beau bemoaned, hiding her face as she crumpled in embarassed laughter, taking the costume and stashing it carefully back into her locker as she slid into her show shoes... the only other pair she owned. Finding a seat along one of the many lockerroom benches, she meticulously unscrewed the teletone taps and carefully stowed them in her locker for future use. "What's worse... I told him to meet me HERE. He's probably waiting in the audience already!" Beau facepalmed hopelessly as Betty shot her a sidelong glance.

"I know... I KNOW!" Beau hissed in reply, not needing any further scalding about the situation as she slipped out of her simple dress and began frantically raiding the costume rack, "Never bring a mark home. I know. There's just... I don't know, Betty. There's something ABOUT him." Beau chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of it... she was turning into one of 'THOSE' women. With a sigh she fished a fitted navy blue number from the rack to slip into, and snagged a matching pair of white gloves and beret from the shelf above. For a brief moment, she turned to leave, but paused and slid a vest from a nearby hanger; tossing it daintily over her arm. It wasn't perfect, but it would fit well enough. "Let Vinnie know I'll bring them back. He can keep my dress as collateral. They'll be looking for it anyway." Beau winked and headed for the side door as music erupted from stage. 

The crimson curtains rose on the opening number of the matinee... with a certain blonde bombshell conspicuously missing. As Beau picked her way quietly down the darkened side wall, she chuckled softly at Thomas' bemused and somewhat disappointed expression. 

Sliding quietly into place next to him, she leaned her head over onto his shoulder; batting her spellbinding blue eyes up at him in the sensuously dim light. "You weren't expecting skin so soon, were you," she taunted in a teasing whisper. Passing him the vest, she continued, "Here, put this on. You can stow the jacket in our coatroom until things cool down." She nodded toward the front door and perked a brow as if to ask, "Where to now?"

Thomas watched the stage, curtain lifting, and noticed the gap where another dancer -should- have been. He chuckled and shook his head, speaking to himself... "Of course she'd be center stage... Only makes sense that I'd pick the star of the fuckin' show as my mark." He sighed and looked about. She'd said meet him here, but she wasn't anywhere he could s--...

Looking to his right as a cute blonde settled her head on his shoulder his look of disappointment turned to a smirk. "A cat can hope, can't he?" He looked toward the door of the cabaret before taking the vest she offered, removing his jacket and slipping it on. It was just a hair too big, but it worked regardless.

"C'mon..." he took her hand and led her to the front, passing his coat off to the front desk. "Can I get a ticket for my coat? I'll be back for it after dinner..." The girl shot a glance at Isabeaux, but said nothing to betray in case Thomas didn't 'know' who he had with him. "Certainly sir, here you are." She handed him the ticket and he pocketed it, giving her a five as a tip and bowing his head. Turning back to the door, he led Isabeaux to it, but paused and let go of her hand.

"Tell me your name..." he looked to her, brushing both hands through his lengthy (for a man) curls and grinned. "I think more than anything, that's what I'd like to know... Then I got an idea about where we can go."

Beau smiled at the new door-girl, giving her a brief wink as her understudy was hoisted in prime theatrical fashion from the trapdoor of the stage in a shower of glittering confetti. The star never works matinee... everyone should know that. 

She followed Thomas to the door, and nearly bowled him over as he stopped short; a soft squeak escaping her perfectly pouted lips as she plowed into him face first, leaving a crimson lipstick stain on the left shoulder of his new shirt. She smiled bashfully, batting those pretty blue eyes again. "Isabeaux... Isabeaux Amélie Duquette," she replied, pointing to one of the many playbills that hung inside the doors. It was a small-time place, but in the soft incandescent glow of the edison lights, she looked every bit the big-stage star as she blushed at him. 

"You can call me 'Bo' if you want," she added softly, her perfectly inflected name losing nearlyl all of it's accented charm as she suddenly shifted from exotic-foreign beauty to girl next door right before his very eyes.

"Where did you have in mind... Thomas?" She smiled at him sweetly, and somehow his very American-boy name took on a charm all it's own as it fluttered from her lips like a swansong of angel's wings... he piercing blue eyes fixating on him as she waited. 

"Isabeaux... Amélie... Duquette..." he said it slowly. "Beautiful!" His voice crooned as the word slipped from between his lips, his eyes glancing over the playbills with amusement. "Well, my 'Bo', first off... Are you hungry? Because I'm starving. Second, I was supposed to meet my buddy 'Scat' at his club since our business was canceled in the park today. Thought you might like to hear some swingin' tunes."

He took her hand and burst forth from the cabaret doors, spinning in a circle and happy. "The world's a stage, baby. We can go anywhere you want." Chuckling, he stopped and faced her. "But first... Food. There's a wonderful little place down the street." He held the cash from their score earlier... "And I think at least half of this is yours, hmm?" He smirked and gripped her hand tighter before leading her off through the crowds in line to see her show later.

"Place is called 'The Bon Marche Café' and it's absolutely amazing! I think you'll enjoy it. You seem the type." He chuckled. "And I know we can afford it today."

Thomas pointed to a building within site just a few doors down and across the street from where they were. "Interested?" He put on his best smile, but it ended up being more of a wicked smirk; the left side of his mouth pulling upward to his ear, while the right rested about midway into the smile. His eyes sparkled... Literally? Had they literally just sparkled like a star had twinkled in his eye? There it was again, it had... His eyes sparkled. Literally. With a blink, he chuckled softly and leaned in to whisper in her ear... "Well, Isabeaux, what will it be? Dinner with this Prince of the Boulevard?" His breath was warm as it passed over her flesh, airy as his voice trickled down her spine... "Or what would you have?" He stood straight again, that same crooked grin still plastered on his face...

Isabeaux blinked at him in fascinated bewilderment. It wasn't like he  was all THAT handsome... or smoothe, for that matter. Most of his lines were downright CHEESEY. And yet, there was something in the delivery, something in the way that he carried himself that was utterly... well, befuddling, at the moment. "As you like it," she smiled in reply... both agreeing to lunch AND referencing the Shakespearean quote that she doubted he'd even intended. 

She felt his words wash over her like a liquid breeze; cascading from his lips, through her mind, and down her shoulderblades, to nestle hungrily somewhere deep within her core. She'd never felt anything like it in her life... this tingling rush of... she didn't have a word for it. It was electric, like stage lights and standing ovations, but MORE. So much more. With a single burning question - 'what would you have?' - he sent her mind reeling... unraveling, really... in a million different directions as a thousand different possibilities played out like a spiderweb of possible fates before her shinning blue eyes. It was like the universe around them slowed for the briefest of seconds as the fabric of destiny unfurled, presenting itself strand by strand for her scrutiny. And then... with all the force of a lightning crack, the universe snapped back together, full speed ahead as she nodded, her mind made up. 

"Dinner... and dessert," the words came out cooly, with an air of decided entitlement befitting royalty. She smiled warmly, swaying against him ever so slightly as she leaned in to nuzzle his neck, inhaling his scent with overt disregard for the throngs of men waiting to watch her perform. Her impossibly soft cheek traced the tender crevice beneath his collar as she crooned, "That is... if you're into sweet little things."  

A familiar electric buzz crackled in the air, raising the hairs along the back of his neck. This woman made his ears ring. She tugged at his hand as he grinned, that coy smirk of his growing wider as she coaxed him toward the cafe... her shinning eyes never leaving him as she sashayed toward the door with him in tow. Men spilled over themselves to make way for the woman, seeming entirely oblivious to Thomas' existence as they parted like the red sea... scurrying like ants before their queen. 

It was no small wonder the stage loved her. She was breath-taking in that moment; her blue eyes twinkling like a thousand summer stars, her blonde curls stirring beckoningly in the warm breeze, her lips turned into a teasing smirk as she hummed softly along like a siren luring men to sea. The metallic electricity of her was almost palpable in the suffocating stillness of the summer heat. It was like a dream. And as she paused, resting against the cool wood of the cafe door, the idea of melting into it with her was... well, spellbinding. 

She paused and waited, back pressed to the door and entrancing stare blinking up at him with doe-eyed expectation. Should he open the door? How? She'd fall? He'd have to catch her? Or press himself against her to... hmmm... that cheeky little minx. She grinned wickedly as she watched the thoughts move through his mind, waiting ever so patiently for his next move, swaying like a savannah cat crouched for the attack. 

"Well, are you coming?"

He could feel the buzz around him, even hear it in the breeze... He blinked and time itself slowed as he gazed about, then blinked again and everything was back to normal. Nothing. He'd missed whatever that was. He was slipping. Thomas O'Malley, was slipping. That didn't happen often. Shaking his head, Thomas turned his attention back to Isabeaux. "Unless it's you..." he whispered very quietly and paused, staring.

"Naaahhh..." he huffed out and chuckled, but he noticed the hurt on her face after her question and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Who wouldn't be into sweet little things, baby?" Saved! At least he figured it was a good save. He winked as he pulled away from her face and then followed her to the door, baffled by the sea of men (and women) rushing to part and allow her through but almost collapsing themselves onto Thomas as they followed her strut...

-"Maybe..."- he thought to himself before shaking the thought away, her back now against the door looking at him like she thought he was contemplating what to do in the moment. Without a second though Thomas smirked and walked right up, pressing his body against hers in a heated display of split-second passion as he kissed her lips and used his movement to push them through the door... His hands captured her slender waist and lifted, guiding her in a spin away from the door and setting her feet safely on the ground after they finished... Now inside the restaurant.

"Why yes... Yes I am coming. I wouldn't miss dinner with such an interesting little dove like yourself." He smiled and waived at the host. "Table for two..."

"Yes sir," the older gentlemen nodded and took two small menus from beneath the podium. "Welcome to the Bon Marche Café. This evening the specialty is the hot prime beef sandwich with brown gravy, served with potato salad, coffee, and a dessert of your choice from either our desserts or our iced creams section. You may substitute another of our salads for the potato if you choose. Coffee will be served with the dessert, and complimentary hot bread and oils are served as a starter." He finally paused at a table and waited as Thomas pulled a chair out.

"For milady..." Thomas gestured, and took Bo's hand to guide her into her seat before taking his own. The host sat the menus down and returned to his post as a waiter quickly made his way over with hot bread, a plate with herbs and garlic crushed on it, a pitcher of water, and a bottle of oil and vinegar. He sat the bread down, sat the plate of herbs down, and immediately poured two glasses of water.

"Greetings to you both, welcome to the Bon Marche, have you dined here before? We see many prominent figures in our dining area. In fact, tonight, one of the city councilmen running for government office is in attendance." He finished pouring the beverages and then poured the oil and vinegar onto the herbs and mixed them around. "And did our host tell you the special of the evening?"

Thomas nodded and chuckled. "He did, and it's our first time... At least I believe so?" He looked at Isabeaux before looking back. "I know it's my first time. My lovely date I can't speak for..." Obviously he was lying since he had an inkling that Isabeaux would like the food here, but believe him the waiter did. "However, give us a moment? I'd like to look over your menu for a bit before deciding on anything."

The younger man nodded and quickly disappeared, leaving the two to themselves. Thomas smiled and looked at Isabeaux before pulling his napkin from the table and placing it across his lap. Reaching for his glass, he lifted it and tipped his head.

"A toast, to new friendships and interesting adventures... To you, Isabeaux Amélie Duquette. And to a fine meal afforded by our crass friends on the streets." He chuckled and took a drink of the water before breaking the bread, steam rising from it's freshly baked center, and dipped it into the oil... "Well go on, it's delicious, I promise." He popped the bread in his mouth and -IMMEDIATELY- regretted his decision as he opened wide and breathed in, then out like he was trying to cool soup. "And vewy haaa... Iss vewy haaa..." He finally was able to chew and swallow... "Christ! That was hotter than my fire beans!" He pat his tongue slightly and took another drink of water... "Haa, ahhhhh, sorry. Okay then..." he looked at her and smiled, back to himself. "What would you like?"

Beau gasped as he caught her up, returning the kiss with an aching, hungry passion. She breathed him in as they spun, and again that electric crackle played over his skin as her lips closed around his. He could taste her... like treacle tarts and lemon drops... as if he'd been starving since childhood and the flovour of her was feeding his very soul. She giggled softly against his lips as her feet touched the ground, and as the door swung closed behind them, the streetlamps outside popped and shattered in a cascade of glimmering incandesent sparks. 

They were quickly ushered to the table, and Beau tried her best to appear as if she'd done this all before. She was quickly repreived of that awkwardness, however, as Thomas dove head first into the steaming loaf of VERY fresh bread. Trying her best not to appear cruel, Beau chuckled as she watched him sputter over the super-heated bread. And for a moment it seemed that all other sound in the vacinity faded to a silent halt. Being a bit more careful than he, she daintily took a small piece of bread and blew it cool before dipping it; her crimson lips whistling ever so softly as the steam stilled. Popping it into her mouth with a smile and a wink, she glanced down at the menu for a moment, but shook her head. 

"I wouldn't know where to begin," she smiled sheepishly. "Tell you what," she leaned in a bit, the femme fatale facade fading once again into fetching normalcy, "Since I'm obviously on an adventure of trusting you today, why don't you surprise me? Make it something memorable." She took another bite of bread before lifting her glass to return his toast, "To... alley cats and turtle doves pretending to be princes and duchesses... long may they reign." She winked playfully before taking a dainty sip and relaxing into her chair. 

"So... tell me something about yourself, Thomas O'malley. I'm just dying to get to know you," she grinned at him over the rim of her glass, and - as the air shivered in time with her breath - it seemed to him like he could die right now and be a happy man. 

"C'mon... we'll play 20 questions. You start, I'll answer, we'll switch. If one of us doesn't want to answer a particular question, we can pass... for a cost to be determined by the other. Whadaya say?" 

He chuckled and nodded. "Games sound fun. So... We play." He picked up the menu and looked it over. "So tell me... What made you want to dance..." he trailed as the waiter made his way over.

"Still doing okay?" he smiled and eyed the two of them.

"Aye, we are. Can we have a silver fizz lemonade, a golden fizz lemonade, and two, iced, malted milks for drinks... And the special for both of us. However, no potato salad... One lobster meat salad and one crab meat salad instead, thanks."

The waiter nodded and then took the menus for the time being and left before Thomas called out to him. "Oh! Bring some assorted fruits too! And two of the Bon Marche tomato bisques!"

"Of course, right away sir," he called back and took off to the kitchen.

Turning back to her, he smiled. "Lets do this..."

"One. What made you want to dance at the cabaret?" He took a drink of his water and waited.

Beau wiggled in her chair a bit as Thomas ordered for them. The bisque sounded awesome. But she blinked at him flatly with his first question. No one had ever asked her that before, and to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure how to answer. "I... I don't really know. Honestly, I'm not sure there's ONE thing... or that the caberet is even a big part of it. It's just the path of least resistance, really. And it's fun." She smiled, snagging another bite of bread. "Dancing... just kind of comes naturally. It's something I've always done. And... when it's for other people, I don't know. It's like... the air changes. And beign able to bring people a little laughter and bliss... and just relief in this life... it's... really special. Y'know?" 

Beau trailed off for a moment, clapping softly to herself as the waiter returned with the fruits and bisque. Strawberries, canteloupe, appler slices, even kiwi. Beau slid a little of everything onto her appetizer plate before diving into the bisque with an almost obscene moan, "This is amazing. I love tomoato." 

Picking up where she left off, she continued, "So... I don't know that anything in particular made me WANT to dance. It just brings me joy and pays the bills... mostly." 

The waiter came again, delivering their drinks. And Beau waited for Thomas to make a determination about them before growing brave enough to try any of them... though the malted milk looked mouthwatering. 

"So... my turn... What do you love in life? What makes it worth living for you?"

Thomas nodded and listened as she talked, and smiled as she dove into her bisque. He too took a bite of his and practically swirled in happiness as it's flavor warmed him.

He continued to listen as Bo talked, and the waiter delivered the drinks. Thomas slid the golden drink to her and the silver drink to himself...

As she asked her question, he took a drink of his lemonade and his face contorted... "Ohhhh that's a -good- kind of sour. Juuust a hint of sweetness to it. It should go well with the savory tomato!" He smiled and then sat back in his chair and thought.

"Honestly? That was two questions..." he smirked. "But I love adventure... For the first question. Without adventure, life would be boring and sad..."

Thomas took a drink of the malted milk and melted... "Ohhhh that's yummy." He smiled happily and then looked at Isabeaux. "As for your second question, magic makes it worth living. The magic of life, laughter, romance, and... well... That special spark of ingenuity and creation that manifests feelings, raw emotion, and even the thrill of, heh... Adventure. So the answer to both questions is the same thing. One: Adventure and the thrill of it. Two: The magic that creates the thrill of adventure."

His smile was wide, and his eyes practically danced. No... They literally danced as he spoke of magic. Something in the way he talked would relay an almost childish belief in such foolishness.

"So. My next question..." he smirked as the waiter approached with sandwiches and brown gravy. "What if there was a reason that everything was so easy with you being able to charm people? And three... Would you be willing to accept a theory I have based on today's interactions so far? It might seem very silly until we do some tests..."

He grinned and tore some of his sandwich apart to dip in the gravy and took a bite... Eyes sparkling and awaiting her answers...

Beau puckered as she sipped the frothy lemonade, and rolled her eyes at his 'two questions'. "It was meant as a clarifier, not a second question... but I see your point." She watched more than listened as he spoke, noting the dancing light in his eyes. She sipped the malted milk as he asked his next questions, sliding the lemonad toward him as she claimed the milky-perfection for herself. 

Her expression was quizical and skeptical as she insisted, "I don't charm people." And she sounded as if she truly believed that... as if she was utterly blind to ways in which people reacted to her presence. It was clear, in her mind, she was just the plane jane girl next door. And, deeper still, that to be anything more was somehow dishonest or worse. "But..." she tiptoed hesitantly into her third answer, "I may be willing to consider your theory... with some evidentiary support. But I give no absolute guarantees, and I reserve the right to reassess my decision at any time." 

Beau nodded, that seemed fair. To be honest, she was a little nervous. What could he possibly be planning? After all, it would be JUST her luck that the FIRST guy to pique her interest AT ALL would be... a bit 'off'. But, she was in this deep already. And given the rarity of that fact, she decided to hang on for the adventure. If nothing else, the two of them would make a very interesting story... one way or the other. 

"Okay... we'll circle back to that," she smiled. "If there was ONE thing in life that would complete you... what is it? ... OR, if you prefer, what's the ONE thing you feel like is missing in your life?"

"A partner..."

It was matter-of-fact and without hesitation.

"I work great alone, that's no question... And it's easy not having to worry about someone else."

He smiled at her...

"But it's more fun with someone to work with."

He smirked. "And fine, we'll move away from previous questions. What was your home life like?"

Thomas took another bite of his sandwich and chewed happily.

A partner...? She could relate to that sentiment. More than she wanted to admit. And in so many ways. She wondered which of those ways rang tru for him, but she dare not ask. After all, they'd only just met. Such questions were better saved for later. But, as h e asked the next question, she almost changed her mind.

Beau froze mid-bite, her blue eyes frosting over with a certain tell-tale sadness. "I... didn't really have one. My parents died in a fire when I was just a babe. Lived ina group home as a youngster. Hit the streets at 12. Made some enemies, made some debts, danced them off... mostly. That's where the Caberet came in. Kept me safe and off my back... mostly," she shrugged, "You know how it is." 

Choosing to change the subject, she picked half-heartedly at her sandwhich. If the hard answers weren't off the table, then this evening could get very interesting and very honest indeed. "What's the worst thing you've ever done," she asked with an open ait of non-judgement. "And did you regret it," she followed up shortly. If she was following him down the rabbit hole, then she might as well know what kind of man he was, right off the bat. 

Thomas stopped eating his sandwich and immediately looked sad. That question hit hard, and he wasn't entirely sure how to answer it. He sat back in his chair again as the sparkle from his own eyes vanished.

"There are a few ways to answer that question... Worst thing I've ever done? Probably end a life so to speak... Alter it's course, and purposely send it down a darkened pathway for all of eternity, forever repeating sorrow until the end of time. Worse yet, not regretting crafting the personal hell for the bastard I did it to."

He sighed, but continued.

"I've never thought twice about taking a life, either, if it was for self preservation or for someone or something I loved... No regret there either..."

He looked up at her, finally lifting his gaze from the table.

"Worse thing I've ever done to myself? Left my schooling, denied myself love, and hurt my professors in the process of revenge... That I do regret... And is why I currently work alone. I'm not allowed a partner by our governing world. Unless it's one I find who has no knowledge of said world..."

He realized he sounded like a raving lunatic, but he was going to be honest with her. It's not like he couldn't just erase her memory and try again... Hell, how many times had he met Isabeaux already? What were they up to now? Or were they? He couldn't remember... Had they ever met? If so, he would have had to scrub his own mind of her existence as well since he held no recollection of it...

"Sorry. I know I sound crazy, speaking of odd things like governing worlds, and altering someone's life course..." He chuckled and shoved a bit of sandwich in his mouth.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family... Glad to know the cabaret is helpful to young ladies in your situation... So my question... And an easier one to lighten the mood. What would you like for our dessert?"

He smiled, but the sparkle was currently missing from his eyes as he hollowed out some, lost in his own thoughts for a multitude of reasons.

Beau blinked. Her reaction almost flat. She'd been in this world... and others... long enough to understand 'the powers that be' so to speak. So there was little that surprised her. He was honest, and to her, that's what truly counted. Shrugging softly, she shook her pale blonde curls. "Nothing wrong with self defense... more so defense of those you love." She smiled, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter through the tinted windows, "And, I'm sure... positive, even... that to earn such a fate, one must've deserved it. I can see it in your eyes. So... no harm, no foul?" 

She popped a grape into her mouth with a cheery wink before continuing, "As for sounding crazy... I've heard worse. We all alter each other's life courses everyday. Something as simple as bumping into a pretty girl on the street can completely change the course fate had set for you. So... again - no harm, no foul. Don't worry so much." 

Nomming a melon ball she grinned at him wickedly, deciding to lighten the mood right-proper. "As for dessert," she cooed, "How's about I pick you? Is that a fair answer?" She eyed him curiously, waiting to see if the brightness would creep back into his expression, adding quickly, "And that's NOT my question!" 

She waggled her finger at him teasingly before following up with, "What's the one thing you really WANT to ask me?"