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Triple Mocha Fudge Chocolate Swirl on Chocolate Ice Cream
Topic Started: Oct 2 2010, 12:40 AM (535 Views)
Allison Shapiro
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There was no getting around it. When she went into work tomorrow, Allison was either going to be demoted or fired. Betty couldn’t really tell her which, but the senior partners at Estelle Leonard’s talent agency were in deep discussion about her career. The allusion of her sexual relationship with Finn Lancaster splashed all over the tabloids. His head in her lap and his hand shifting up her thigh.

The media could really twist an innocent moment into something disgusting. And the kicker was that it was selling like crazy. Finn Lancaster and the Torrid Affair with His Publicist, Old What’s Her Name. It was wonderful.

She had no idea what her second passion was. Allison lived for the media; she loved being the person that people relied to keep their affairs in order. She loved brushing elbows with celebrities and even shagging a few on the side. Her first memory was of pretending that her cat, Snickerdoodle, was a famous Quidditch player, and she was in charge of making him more famous. All of her stuffed animals had come to the opening match of England (Snickerdoodle) versus Czechoslovakia (Mr. Tiddlywinks, her hamster). Snickerdoodle won. Mr. Tiddlywinks suffered a very devastating defeat when he was eaten.

After Snickerdoodle’s big win, Allison reaped the rewards. She was given a beautiful boa from Cindy, her fashion sensible alligator, and a stylish pink handbag from Diddy, her stuffed pixie. Because that was what publicists did; they supported the clients and the clients took care of them.

But not Finn Lancaster. It was completely different. She had bent over backwards to try and keep him in line, to try and get him more public spotlight. And how had she been repaid? Losing her only source of measly income. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to prove herself, having been shoved to represent Lancaster as her first job.

And that had destroyed every dream she ever had.

And that’s why Allison was currently sat in her empty bathtub in her sweatpants and a tank top, hair mussed up in a bun atop her head with a smudge of chocolate on her cheek and a pint of Fortesque’s Triple Mocha Fudge Chocolate Swirl on Chocolate Ice Cream in her hand. The plastic spoon she was using to scoop the ice cream from its tub was lathered in the chocolate syrup she had sat on her soap rack. She dipped it into the ice cream and then shoved the mountainous dollop into her mouth.

A varying volume of “mmmmmmms” left her mouth. Her eyes were closed in heavenly bliss. No amount of brain freeze was going to ruin this perfect glop of chocolaty goodness. She whipped the chocolate syrup from its soap rack and drizzled it on her spoon over the tub of ice cream and then repeated her actions.

There was no way that she was going to that stupid Masquerade Ball, and most especially with that goober, Finn. It didn’t matter anyways. If she skipped tonight, it was hardly going to have an effect on her reputation. Besides, he would probably find some way to have her on her knees, trying to clean off a stain on his trousers and then BAM. Tomorrow she would be the blowjob slut of London.

Nope. Wasn’t happening. She wasn’t going.

On the other side of the soap rack sat a can of whip cream that had yet to be opened. She eyed it greedily before leaning forward to grab it. Shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her gob, she tilted her head back and sprayed glob of whip cream straight into her mouth.

As she moaned in contentment, her back slid down the tub, her eyes closed and the world was okay. At least for now.
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Finn Lancaster
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“Mother, really... I’ve got to go.” Finn cried in exasperation as Diana Lancaster fussed about him. Straightening his shirt collar, smoothing his lapels and running her hands over the peacock blue satin jacket covering his shoulders.

“Finny, you should really wear a tie. The masquerade is traditionally a black tie affair.” His mother admonished as she fretted about.

He’d stopped by the house to pick up his jacket, which he’d left here during the last dreadful charity ball his mum had hosted. She’d forbidden him from wearing it then. Forcing him into some dusty old dress robes of his father’s, he’d forgotten his jacket and needed it for tonight’s event.

“Da, can you call her off?” He called out in despair.

His father, the great Quentin Lancaster, came out of the den. He held an unlit pipe in his hand that he brought up to his mouth as he leaned against the doorjamb to look out over his wife and son. A genuine warmth filled his eyes as he took in his son’s irritated roll of the eyes. He chuckled mildly before speaking up.

“Di, let the lad alone.” The deep timbre of his voice rumbled gently through the room. Diana looked up with a sigh of resignation.

“I just wanted to make sure our little boy is presentable.” A hint of a pout lingered on her face as she moved over to her husband and ran a tender hand over his chest as she stood on her tip toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Mum! I’m 22, I’m not a little boy!” Finn through his hands up in frustration. He cast another exasperated look at his father, who could do no more than smirk at his son. Finn rolled his eyes good naturedly and laughed “Ugh, you two are maddening, deranged individuals. You completely deserve each other.”

He moved over to kiss his mum’s forehead and clap his father on the shoulder.

“Come to dinner on Sunday.”

“If you are making shepherd’s pie, I’ll be here.” Finn responded with a warm smile as reached for his wand to apparate to Allison’s apartment.

“Tally will be here and you could bring that Allison girl we’ve been reading so much about.” His mother’s teasing grin was impossible to ignore. Finn didn’t respond. He let his head fall forward and silently he shook it before casting a final grin their way and apparating.

He appeared on Allison’s doorstep with a loud crack. He tugged his shirt sleeves down from under his jacket before reaching up rap on the door. There was complete silence. He pulled out his pocket watch and opened it to check the time. For once, he was right on time. He knocked again after a few moments. Still no answer.

A soft moan filtered out to the hallway. Finn’s eyes widened slightly in alarm. He reached for the doorknob. It turned easily and he let himself into the small apartment.

“Allison?” He called out. A strange shushing noise echoed in the apartment and was followed by another soft moan. He started to worry in earnest. His overactive imagination began to come up with a myriad of sources for the strange noise and topping the list at the present moment was a brain sucking robot.

Finn opened the bathroom door a smidge and poked his head into the room with his eyes firmly closed. He had an older sister. He knew the type of wrath a female could wreak on an unsuspecting lad for invading their privacy.

“You in here?”

The only answer he got was a muffled noise. He finally cracked open one eye to peer at her. When he realized that she was fully clothed in her bathtub, he opened his other eye and stepped into the room.

She was seated in her tub and she looked completely dishevelled. Messy red hair poking out at all angles from the loose knot atop her head, her face pale and smudged with what looked like chocolate. She had a spoon held in a white knuckled grip and her mouth was filled with a mess of chocolatey goo.

For a moment, he’d hoped he’d stumbled in on some female secret that they’d been hiding from males for centuries. All those hours of preparation for a big night out that every woman seemed to need, was all a hoax. Perhaps sitting in the tub eating ice cream was just a guilty pleasure they enjoyed while men waited around for them.

Except the look on her face was not one of a lady enjoying a simple sundae in her bathtub. He could see something was bothering her. Finn hesitated only a second before moving forward to step into the other end of the tub. Carefully, arranging his legs to one side of hers, he sat in the tub facing her. With a cheeky grin, he reached for the tub of ice cream and her spoon.

“Triple mocha fudge chocolate swirl. My favourite.” He grinned easily as he dug a heaping spoonful out to shovel it into his mouth. Through the smushy mess in his mouth he managed to ask, “So... what’s going on?”

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Allison Shapiro
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Completely convinced that she had gained a stone with the way she was shoveling ice cream and whip cream into her gob, Allison sighed with contentment. Chocolate had the effect of a calming draught, without making her feel sleepy. Her nerves were slowly unclenching. The annoyance and upset that she had been feeling when she first entered the bath tub were slowly subsiding.

Until she opened her eyes and saw Finn Lancaster standing across from her with a shit-eating grin on his face. She opened her ice cream filled mouth to ask him what he meant by waltzing into her flat without knocking, but was stunned into silence when he sat down, rearranging her legs to make room for his gangly stalks.

“What-”

Her eyes narrowed. The prat had the audacity to show his face? Causing her to lose her job wasn’t enough? He had to swing by to sandpaper salt into the wound? In a stupid, blue tuxedo? With a ridiculous peacock feather on the mask that hid half of his face? She stared at him, hoping that if she concentrated hard enough, she could nonverbally make his head explode.

Reflexively jerking her ice cream away from his grasp, she made a noise of irritated dissatisfaction when he swiped it anyway.

“Triple mocha fudge chocolate swirl. My favorite,” he grinned at her and then took a bit of her chocolate heaven into his mouth.

The sheer nerve that nicking her comfort food had taken infuriated her further. She could feel the steady rise of heat to her face. Her mouth twisting into a vicious grimace. Every slight feeling of attraction she’d felt for him the night before during their one normal drink in Mama’s was gone and replaced with the desire to see his head on a pike.

“So…what’s going on?” He asked her lightheartedly with a mouth full of mushed up ice cream. As if he didn’t know the trouble that he’d caused her.

Any of the little tact that Allison possessed was gone. She didn’t reign in her attitude. Instead, she jumped straight into her blunt and thoughtless parade of anger.

“You are unbeliveable!” She growled, slamming the chocolate syrup jug onto the soap rack. Her eyes were slits as Finn’s face adopted the biggest, most obnoxious grin she had ever seen. “Stop smiling. It’s not a bloody compliment. You’re unbelievable in the way that I’m shocked you’ve still got your sodding bits attached to your body after all the shite you pull.”

She leaned forward and ripped the ice cream tub and the spoon from Finn’s hands and brought them close to her chest. Protecting her only source of comfort from the mitts of a man who was nothing but a menace to everything she loved.

“You’re just Finn Lancaster, pompous, ridiculous Quidditch Extraordinaire,” she shouted, her eyes focused directly on his for a second before turning her gaze to her ice cream. She reached a hand out and grabbed her chocolate again, squeezing an obscene amount of it directly into the tub.

“Forget what consequences your idiotic antics produce for everyone else, as long as you have a bloody good time.” She stabbed her spoon into the tub, driving it straight through the cardboard container. As the tub oozed melted chocolate ice cream onto her tank top, she piled chunks of it into her mouth.

She sprayed the milky mixture as she continued on her tirade. “Nevermind that your spectacular publicist was just starting her poxy career and needed this to prove that she was good enough to a manager that only thinks she’s good for sex. Forget all about the fact that she was on the three strike system and is going to lose her fucking job the next time she goes back to the office.”

Holding her spoon up as if a declaring a point, Allison swallowed the ice cream in her mouth, dropped the tub onto her lap, grabbed her whip cream and sprayed a huge blob into her mouth.

“I’m Finn bloody Lancaster. I have thousands of galleons and piss on the little people without a second thought.” She brought her eyes to meet his, disregarding whatever fury that she saw there. “I’m awesome. Love me.”

Rolling her eyes, Allison threw her spoon as she stood up from the tub. The briefest bit of satisfaction soared through her body when she saw the spoon collide with Finn’s chin, despite his effort to catch it.

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Finn Lancaster
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“You are unbelievable!” Allison snarled at him in a tone that Finn could only call feral.

The comment was rather ambiguous so Finn decided to take it as a positive. His face lit up in a broad grin. What bloke didn’t like a beautiful woman calling him ‘unbelievable’, his ego which didn’t need inflating did just that for a few moments. His eyes crinkling slightly in the corner as his mind began to work out an appropriate response. ‘Just wait til you see me in bed,’ seemed a tad too egocentric, even for him.

When she snapped at him again, he realized that perhaps he was being a touch too optimistic at his attempts to read into the meaning of her words. He still had a difficult time as he tried to stifle the smile.

“Stop smiling. It’s not a bloody compliment. You’re unbelievable in the way that I’m shocked you’ve still got your sodding bits attached to your body after all the shite you pull.” She snatched the ice cream and spoon from him as though he’d attempted to take away her first born... or in Allison’s case, her cosmo. The thought brought about a fresh grin which only seemed to irritate the redhead further, if that were possible. “You’re just Finn Lancaster, pompous, ridiculous Quidditch Extraordinaire,”

His eyebrow arched slightly, it wasn’t the first time that he’d been called any of those things. Although it was the first time any of his publicists had ever gone off on him like this. He should be pissed, he should tell her that he was going to fire her. Instead, something odd happened. He felt a seed of respect taking root. She may be a gorgeous bird, but bloody hell, she had balls.

“Forget what consequences your idiotic antics produce for everyone else, as long as you have a bloody good time.” Her voice was taking on a shrill tone as her anger seemed to build with every word she uttered.

The ice cream mess she held in the tub in her hands began to leak as she stabbed the spoon through the container. The white and brown goo dripped down onto the thin, pink fabric of her tank top. If this were another time or another bird, he’d have offered to help her clean that up. Allison would have ripped his family jewels off in a heartbeat if he were to suggest anything of the sort at this moment.

“Nevermind that your spectacular publicist was just starting her poxy career and needed this to prove that she was good enough to a manager that only thinks she’s good for sex. Forget all about the fact that she was on the three strike system and is going to lose her fucking job the next time she goes back to the office.” She spoke through a mouthful of melted ice cream, tiny blots of the milky mess sprayed everywhere.

At least she was finally getting down the heart of the matter. Why did women have to beat around the bush? Why not just spit out what was bothering them in the first place? Besides, the solution to Allison’s problem seemed ridiculously easy.

“So don’t go back.” He stated simply. As though it were the only logical answer. He was tired of the ridiculous dance he had to do with Estelle, it was predictable and boring. He’d get his name in the paper, she’d call threatening to let him go as a client (though she never would, she’d hitched her company on his families name) He was ready to start fresh with a new publicist and Allison was not only capable and talented at the job, but she was not about to put up with any bullshit from him. She seemed like the logical choice.

Allison was not to be deterred by his words, not yet. She still had some angry words to fling at him so she continued on as if he’d never spoken. To be fair, she likely couldn’t hear him over her own irate tone.

“I’m Finn bloody Lancaster. I have thousands of galleons and piss on the little people without a second thought. I’m awesome. Love me.” And before he could even comment she stood up and flung her spoon into his face. He moved, but not quick enough and the spoon smacked him in the chin.

He dropped the spoon into the container of ice cream that sat on the edge of the tub and then leaned back. His face held the tiniest glimmer of a smile but there was something utterly sincere in his eyes. “Are ya done?”

Finn glanced up at her as she stopped in her tracks. He was fairly certain that his life was about to be snuffed tragically short, but he continued to speak.

“So, don’t go back to Estelle’s.” His tone was matter of fact. “Old lady Leonard is a barmy bat and I’d say her management staff were all slimy little eels, but that would be insulting to eels everywhere.” His hazel eyes sparkled mischievously as he watched her try to puzzle out what he was trying to say. “You could come work directly for me.”

The disbelief on her face was obvious, so he continued. “And before you tell me to sod off, hear me out. I’m tired of Estelle’s bitching and threats. I need a publicist who is willing to stand up to me the way you just did, although I’d appreciate a bit less of the utensil throwing.” His grin deepened as he got up and stepped out of the tub. He stood a few paces from Allison.

“I’m not an easy client, but you will have more leeway that you ever will with Estelle, and you can yell at me whenever you want.” He knew that would be a perk that would appeal to her. “Plus I pay a hell of a lot better than that old shrew ever did, and you will have your pick of clients from the Cannons and likely from the Lancasters as well.”

“But right now, you’d better get dressed for the ball, princess. You haven’t been canned yet.” He stepped around her to exit the bathroom with a familiar cheeky grin in place on his face as he head toward the living room.




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Allison Shapiro
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“Are ya done?”

They were probably the worst three words that Finn could have uttered. Allison’s entire body stiffened and she spun around slowly, a murderous glint in her wide, green eyes. Her breathing came out in a huff as her tiny hands balled into fists at her side.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was so quiet, she wondered if she had even said anything aloud at all.

“So, don’t go back to Estelle’s.” His tone was matter of fact. “Old lady Leonard is a barmy bat and I’d say her management staff were all slimy little eels, but that would be insulting to eels everywhere.”

Allison harrumphed, staring at Finn with a raised eyebrow. Not going back to Estelle Leonard’s Agency would be marvelous. But it was simply the best place to start a publicist’s career. She had excellent clientele. Unrivaled.

“You could come work directly for me.”

She wanted to knock the charming little smirk right off of his dashing face. She took a step toward the bathtub to do just that.

“And before you tell me to sod off, hear me out. “ She paused in her stride and placed her hands on her hips, ignoring the squishy feeling of ice cream beneath her fingers. “I’m tired of Estelle’s bitching and threats. I need a publicist who is willing to stand up to me the way you just did, although I’d appreciate a bit less of the utensil throwing.”

Watching him lift himself from the tub, Allison’s face was caught somewhere between disbelief and bewilderment. No one had complimented her, ever. She’d spent the majority of the previous month and a half being admonished for Finn’s exploits and her alleged tryst with him. Out of all of the people who could tell her she’d done a good job, or that she was good at what she was doing, it was the one person she wanted to belt on the side of the head with a mallet.

He stood close before she realized that her eyes had lost their focus on his face and had stayed staring at the spot in the tub that he had been sitting in. She blinked as she tried to gain back her sharp vision.

“I’m not an easy client, but you will have more leeway than you ever will with Estelle, and you can yell at me whenever you want.” At his words, Allison’s lips lifted of their own accord. “Plus I pay a hell of a lot better than that old shrew ever did, and you will have your pick of clients from the Cannons and likely from the Lancasters as well.”

Her frame relaxed, finally. It was something she would have to think about for a while. Finn Lancaster as a boss, when she so obviously couldn’t tolerate him as just a person, would be stressful. But, at the same time, he’d give her permission to give him hell. It might well be worth it… for more pay.

“But right now, you’d better get dressed for the ball, princess. You haven’t’ been canned yet.” He sidestepped her quickly with a stupid grin on his face and left her alone in the loo to contemplate the offer that he’d given her. And reminded her that there was still a stupid, bloody ball to attend. With him.

Groaning, Allison turned in a half circle to glance at her reflection in the mirror. Disheveled didn’t even begin to cover the mess that reflected back at her. It was… gross. Ratty red hair plopped on top of her head with chunks of it falling down all over the place. Chocolate at the corners of her lips. Puffy eyes. Pale cheeks. She was the very definition of dreadful.

Of all the ridiculous things… She stepped closer to the mirror and removed the rubber band from her hair and let the messy ringlets fall down, just above her shoulders. Placing her fingertips at the roots, she shook her hair up and ran them through to the ends to detangle the big knots that had formed. It was pretty hopeless, really. Nothing could really solve the disaster on top of her head. She decided to ignore it.

She focused instead on the chaos that was her face. Running the cold water over her hands, she created a small puddle in her palms and then met her face halfway to splash it on her skin. It instantly jolted her, waking whatever nerves had tried to fall asleep under there in her chocolate munching haze. When she brought her face back up, she was forcing a smile on her face.

To work with Finn would mean that she would have to work with Finn. On the best days, she couldn’t stand him longer than a good ten minutes. Until he opened his cheeky mouth and said something absurd. Then, on the other hand, if she worked with Finn, she would make more money and bank on the popular Lancaster dynasty.

By the time that she had finished her light make up, her inner businesswoman had won. She was going to accept Finn’s offer. But not until the end of the night, after their last publicity night with Estelle Leonard. Perhaps something fun would happen. Or maybe, she would finally have one nice, normal night with the ponce. Either way, she felt a new kind of freedom. The kind that a corporate entity couldn’t crush under the weight of its politics.

Peeling off the stained tank top and ultimately ruined bra she had dropped ice cream all over, Allison tossed them aside and stood sideways at the mirror. She lifted her arms up while watching her body stretch and relax. Tilting her head to the side, she cracked her neck, relieving even more tension. Then she slid out of her raggedy sweatpants and glanced back to the door where she had hung her dress…

Except that her dress wasn’t at the door. Shit. Allison spun around to check all the other hooks that she could have placed it on, but it wasn’t in the loo.

“Finn?” She called out to him, anxiety coating her voice. “Finn, can you grab my dress out of the bedroom?”

No – no. Her room was currently decked out in all of her delicates. Bras, panties, other… things that he had no business knowing that she owned. Before he had the chance to enter into her feminine palace of scary girl things, Allison swung the bathroom door open and dashed into the hallway.

“Nevermind-“ She bellowed. In all of her haste, she had forgotten that she didn’t live in a big place, and that the hallway from the living room to her bathroom across from her bedroom was really a very short distance.

Finn stood stock still as her body rushed past his, hands flailing over her head as she shrieked and reached her bedroom door. Her hand turned the knob, but the door was jammed. Stuck. And she was practically naked, in only her knickers, with Finn Lancaster in her flat, standing there, and…

“I said nevermind!” She shouted as she crashed her body into her door twice more, eyes shut to brace herself for the resistance.

“Fuck!” She beat her fist against the door and then took one more, hopeful thrust with her body at her bedroom door. It opened that time, but sent Allison crashing to the floor of her bedroom. Before she could hear any of Finn’s stupid chuckling, she kicked the door shut again with her foot.

The only logical thought in her head at the moment was gratitude that she hadn’t tried to fix her hair yet. She stood up gingerly, ignoring the soreness of the right side of her body from beating it against solid wood for a full minute. Her dress mocked her from the closet doors. It was a dinky, yellow number, plunging and bright, a trademark to her personality.

She slipped it on easily over her petite frame and straightened out the spaghetti straps so that they were no longer twisted on her shoulders. Once satisfied with the state of her dress, she stuck one foot out at a time and slipped them into her high heel, bright purple Mary Jane pumps. Grabbing the matching purple shawl from somewhere on her bed (that was littered with tabloids, underwear and chocolate wrappers) and then made her way back to her sadistic door.

Ironically enough, it opened straight away. As she strutted down the short hallway, thankful that Finn was no longer occupying it, Allison wrapped her shawl around her arms and reached up to tease her hair a little bit more. If nothing else, she was going for shambolic-chic.

Before making it to Finn, she sidestepped to her little, glass coffee table and grabbed the purple clutch that she had tossed on it earlier. From it, she withdrew a bright purple, intricately designed mask and let the springy thread dangle from her finger.

With a “that never happened” smile to Finn, Allison held out her arms in presentation. “Fabulous, I know,” she said confidently. “You’re such a lucky bloke, Finn Lancaster.”
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As Finn moved into Allison’s living room, he was once again astounded at just how tiny the space was. His closet was bigger than this whole apartment. His shoe collection likely wouldn’t even fit in this room. Hell, his wardrobe wouldn’t fit in this entire building.

The room itself was tidy and organized but there was barely enough room in this room to turn around. Finn was just about to plop down on the compact little sofa when Allison’s voice called out from the bathroom.

“Finn? Finn, can you grab my dress out of the bedroom?”

A small grin of reluctant acceptance flitted over his face. It was a step in the right direction, at least she was over her little meltdown and was getting ready for the ball. He stepped back into the hallway, really only a few steps from the sofa, with full intentions of doing as he was asked, when the unexpected happened.

“Nevermind-“ A nearly naked Allison burst from behind the bathroom door and almost barrelled right into him. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched her as she darted across the hall with her arms flailing.

As much as he wanted to be a decent bloke and avert his eyes, he simply couldn’t do it. He had always appreciated the female form and she was standing there at her bedroom door all naked and in fine form. Her fiery red hair was a mess of curls and it stood in stark contrast with her milky skin as it tumbled down to brush her back and shoulders. With her back to him, he let his gaze travel over her pale smooth back down the tiny slip of white material barely covering the perfect curve of her backside.

“I said nevermind!” Her body crashed into the bedroom door and again. Finn chuckled, unable to stop himself. And he stepped forward to help her with the door. “Fuck!”

As though the curse was a magic word, the door swung wide open and sent Allison tumbling to the floor.

“Are you alright?” He asked through his poorly smothered laughter. The door slammed in his face. “I can zip you up if you like. It’s nothing I haven’t already seen.”

Well, if nothing else, it was nice to see the cool, collected publicist get a wee bit frazzled. And it was certainly nice to see that new side to her. His laughter started anew as that thought flitted through his mind. He turned and headed back to the living room. The tiny room didn’t seem quite so claustrophobic anymore. His mind was distracted by images that were lingering. And images that he hoped would linger for a long time to come.

It was only a few moments before she stepped out of the bedroom. And she looked gorgeous. The sunshine yellow against the red hair and pale skin was striking. He let out a low whistle as he took in her appearance.

“Fabulous, I know,” she said confidently. “You’re such a lucky bloke, Finn Lancaster.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on either count, sweetpea.” His eyes roamed her figure once more before he caught her eye with a wink and the usual Lancaster smirk. “Although, if I get a vote, I like the white outfit a bit better.”

Before she could respond, he caught hold of her hand and apparated them to the Three Broomsticks. Perhaps in a public setting, she’d stop herself from hexing his bollocks off. It would really be his only hope.

He guided her into the lavishly decorated and magically enlarged pub and steered them straight to the bar. After ordering her cosmo and his ale, he turned to her and lifted his glass in a toast.

“To our new business relationship?” He asked, “Or maybe we should toast to seeing a new side to each other tonight?”

Allison’s glass lowered slightly as she glared at him.

“Listen, dove, ‘ts no big deal, you’ve already seen me in my pants and I didn’t raise a fuss about it so why should you? Besides with a figure like yours, I’d say you should try that look more often.”

It really was meant as a compliment.


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Allison completely ignored Finn as he galloped right back into gitville with his ridiculous wink and smirk combination that would cause only the most brain dead of women to simper. It was sweet, of course, but Allison already knew how fabulous she looked both clothed and declothed. She also knew that Finn just couldn’t help himself when presented with an opportunity to be cheeky.

“Although, if I get a vote, I like the white outfit a bit better.”

She opened her mouth to give him a snarky reply, but he had grabbed onto her hand and swept her out of her apartment speechless. The pulling feeling at her navel wasn’t very welcome, especially considering all of the chocolate ice cream she had ingested several minutes prior. A burning feeling traveled up her throat, threatening to spill out. But as the world righted itself and stopped spinning, Allison’s stomach settled enough to allow her control over her gag reflex.

Focusing all of her attention on Finn’s hand at the small of her back, Allison took deep breaths in order to keep all that melty goodness inside of her. As they approached the bar, Allison worried that perhaps she would vomit all over Finn’s tux and ruin his very stunning blue suit. And then she belched quietly, instantly feeling better.

Or maybe it was the sight of the yummy pink cocktail that Finn placed in her hand the next second.

“To our new business relationship?” Allison raised her brow. She wasn’t giving him that satisfaction just yet. “Or maybe we should toast to seeing a new side to each other tonight?”

She took a long sip from her cosmo and when she lowered the glass from her lips, her brows furrowed in a halfhearted glare. He wasn’t ever going to let that go. Ever.

“Listen, dove, ‘ts no big deal, you’ve already seen me in my pants and I didn’t raise a fuss about it so why should you?” Allison’s scowl lessened slightly, still not very impressed, but mollified enough to shrug it off. “Besides with a figure like yours, I’d say you should try that look more often.”

If she hadn’t been look right into his glittering hazel eyes, Allison would have scoffed. But she saw the candor shining easily from them. No wonder he got laid so often.

“No wonder you have women flocking after you,” she told him earnestly before guzzling down the rest of her little pink cosmo. As she made to pass him and order another, taller beverage, she offered him a teasing smile. “Merlin knows it’s not for your dancing abilities.”

Another, much taller as she had specified quite adamantly to the bartender, cosmo rested in her hands when she turned around to face Finn again. With pursed lips, she surveyed the dance floor and noted the variety of people who were attending. Little girls who thought they were women for the night. Young blokes who were obviously anxious to shag something by the end of the night. Hell, even the adults seemed to be in good spirits for the night.

Of course, that could be completely due to the free flowing liquor. Allison knew that’s why she suddenly felt so loosened up. Besides, if she was going to work for Lancaster, a lot of her worries would simply fall away. He’d been sincere when he offered her the job. And she was going to accept it with her own list of stipulations. Such as length of employment. She knew that she was professional and cut throat, and if she was going to be Finn’s agent, it was highly possible that he’d get pissed off with her very quickly and often.

A mischievous grin lit Allison’s face as she brought her gaze back to Finn. He always looked so genuinely happy, and it was one of the rather annoying traits about him that she adored. She’d never tell him, oh bloody hell no, but it was rare to find someone with his kind of stamina for life. A handsome man with zest and … well, everything else, apparently. Not much of a lick of sense, but that was easily overlooked for all the other things.

“Allison!” With a groan, she whipped her head to the side and spotted the insatiable little vixen called Corrine, rushing up to her with her arms outstretched.

“Ughhhhhhh….” Allison handed her drink to Finn, who looked a bit perplexed as he grinned down at her in that wonderfully clueless way. She turned from him and threw a gigantic smile on her face. Fake, of course. “Corrine! How are you, doll?”

Their arms wound around each other and with a peck on each cheek, they exchanged greetings. Allison pulled away first, practically flinging herself back into Finn as she tried to get the hell away from her mate.

“Corrine, this is-“

“Finn Lancaster!” Corrine practically jumped for joy as she thrust Allison out of the way. Her voice reached shrill, causing Allison to cringe. “Oh I know all about you and your career and your favorite color and what sheets you have on your bed and your,” her voice lowered, “lucky pants.”

Allison rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “My date,” she muttered under her breath mutinously. When Corrine didn’t hear her, Allison directed her words to said date. “Corrine Shepley. Columnist for The Quibbler. She wrote the story of your, ah…” A small vindictive smile curved Allison’s lips. “Tryst with the Minister’s daughter.”

Corrine nodded emphatically, hands still on Finn’s chest. To her, Allison didn’t exist anymore. Reaching forward, she plucked her drink from Finn’s hand, a little annoyed that a little bit of it seemed to splash out of the cup with Corrine the Wrecking Ball attacked Finn. For the second time, she drowned herself in the fruity zing of her drink.

“I’m gonna need these to keep comin’, Barney,” she hollered at the barman.

Edited by Allison Shapiro, Oct 12 2010, 09:07 PM.
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“No wonder you have women flocking after you,” she told him earnestly before guzzling down the rest of her little pink cosmo. Finn didn’t even think to hide the smug grin that flitted over his face.

“Merlin knows it’s not for your dancing abilities.” She quipped lightly.

“Oi!” He took great offense to the slight on his dancing prowess, but recognized the glimmer of amusement that lingered in her hazel eyes. His lips quirked up again as he lifted his chin in a mildly haughty manner. “Just because, I have moves that you aren’t accustomed to in your sheltered little world, there’s no need to get nasty. There are plenty of birds who find my dancing...” He paused for a moment while he searched for the right word. “charming.”

He stepped to the left to allow her to pass. And being between Allison and the alcohol was a dangerous place to linger. It was something he’d figured out pretty quickly. Her back was turned as she ordered her next potent pink concoction. Finn took a long sip of his ale as he took in the sight of her shapely backside. His grin widened substantially though he was careful to lift his gaze to meet hers as she turned back towards him. A playful glint in her smiling eyes brought a slight wickedness to her pretty face. It was a good look for her.

Before he could say a word, another sound erupted from their right. It was a high pitched sound that most professional quidditch players knew instinctively to back away from. The overexcited female caterwaul. As much as it was great for the ego, it almost always involved some sort of over eager female flinging themselves at you. And that was a recipe for injuries – something that could be very costly in his line of work.

“Allison!”

Finn flashed a slightly perplexed grin at his publicist as she shoved her drink into his hand. The irritation in her gaze was absolutely amusing. As was the delightfully phony grin that lit up her face as she spun to greet the unbelievably shrill woman.

“Corrine! How are you, doll?”

The two women proceeded to go through the odd ritual of air kisses and fake greetings to each other while Finn watched on with a rather disinterested expression on his face. He’d grown up with the type of ridiculous false pleasantries and heaved a rather resigned sigh. It was only a few seconds before Allison backed away from the other woman as though she had something contagious. Finn lifted their drinks up slightly so she wouldn’t end up wearing them.

“Corrine, this is-“ Allison began in a tone laced with just the tiniest hint of irritation.


“Finn Lancaster!” Corrine practically jumped for joy as she thrust Allison out of the way. Her voice reached shrill, causing Allison to cringe. “Oh I know all about you and your career and your favorite color and what sheets you have on your bed and your,” her voice lowered, “lucky pants.”

Finn was used to the rabid fans that were highly inappropriate with him because they felt they knew him. Yet it was only the most unprofessional of the press that crossed that line. And this bird didn’t just cross it, she zipped across it with the speed of a Firebolt and just kept going. Finn’s grin was as forced as Allison’s had been only moments before.

Allowing his eyes to flick up to meet hers as she grabbed her drink, he could see the spiteful grin that lit her face. It was actually a tad frightening.

“Corrine Shepley. Columnist for The Quibbler. She wrote the story of your, ah ..tryst with the Minister’s daughter.”

Instantly, Finn’s posture stiffened. That story had stirred up a shitstorm of problems for him especially because he’d been dating Dana at the time and the story was a complete fabrication.

“Ah, a fiction writer.” His cool tone was lost on the simpering fool. She gazed up at him adoringly as he took a step back from her. “Ms Shepley, I know you only work for The Quibbler and not a real paper, but isn’t it appropriate to have some sort of verification before you print stories.”

Finally, Corinne seemed to finally clue in that he was less than thrilled about her presence. She stepped back with a mildly startled expression on her face.

“We ... we had verification.”

“No. You didn’t.” All traces of Finn’s grin was gone. A cool disinterest lingered in his gaze. “If you did, you’d have found out that the Minister’s daughter and I have never actually met. Funny how that fact checking thing works, isn’t it?”

“Oh.” Corinne’s face fell as she stepped back from Finn and turned to look at her ‘friend’

“I must get back to my date. I heard that there were some real reporters here tonight. I’d hate for them to associate with a crackpot publication like the Quibbler. I’m sure you understand how embarrassing that would be for a man in my position.” Finn stepped around her without waiting for her response and stepped next to Allison. Catching her arm he steered her out toward the dance floor.

The soft strains of a gentle melody were filtering throughout the couples that were moving in close to each other. Finn turned and slid a gentle hand around to place it on Allison’s back and draw her into a very proper waltz stance.

Finn Lancaster may have been a bit ... eccentric when it came to the faster dance steps but when it came to the more tradition dances he’d been through years of training for his mother’s charity events. He was actually quite graceful and surprisingly light on his feet.

He flashed a grin down at Allison as he guided her effortlessly across the dancefloor. “So, do all your friends have a nasty habit of slandering innocent quidditch players for sport?”
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Allison only caught the tail end of Finn’s remarks to Corrine, after pounding back another two cosmos while he told the little tripe, basically, where to stick her information. When she zoned back in on the conversation, Finn was next to her and blowing Corrine off. An easy grin slid onto her face. Maybe it was the cosmos. There was something positively dashing about him just then.

Being directed toward the dance floor, Allison tossed back the remainder of her freshest cosmo and set it on the tray of a passing server. Of course, it was then, when they reached the very center of the dance floor that Allison realized what Finn was planning. Bugger. Her eyes were wide. While she wanted a spectacle, she didn’t want to be a part of said spectacle.

Finn’s hands on her felt vaguely heartwarming, and it was that reason alone that she was able to bring her courage levels up in order to take his hand and place her other on his shoulder. It was promising that he knew the proper stance for slow dancing. But, knowing Finn, it would only start this way and go into a cataclysmic barrage of flailing limbs and people.

She tried to contain her cringing.

“So, do all your friends have a nasty habit of slandering innocent Quidditch players for sport?” She stepped lightly, guided by his smooth movements. Too shocked to be drawn into his charming grin and decidedly lovely eyes.

He could slow dance? Slow dance. But he had absolutely no coordination or rhythm when it came to the faster music. He really was some type of gitty enigma. Unwillingly, her smile widened, chin tilted down as she gazed up at him.

“We both know you’re not that innocent, Finn, really.” He twirled her out gracefully and brought her back to him. Their eyes didn’t stray from each other. “Besides, without girls like Corrine, a lot of your product line would suffer.”

Of course, Lancaster had his fortunes and banked very little on the merchandise of his fame, but popularity was an essential part to any athlete. Without snot faced girls like Corrine, Finn’s reputation would flounder. And this was why she was going to be the best publicist he’d ever had.

“If I’m going to take you on as a client,” she spoke with a rather sluggish lilt in her voice – thank you, cosmos, “you’re going to have to make a few concessions to your eccentricities.”

She spun away from him again and when she was brought back to him, she was closer. Much too close to have any common sense about her at all. Did he smell this good a few minutes ago, or did he magically enhance his cologne when she wasn’t looking? Allison’s eyes closed and opened slowly as she breathed him in, a begrudging sound of approval leaving her throat.

Finn must have realized what she was doing, because the prat’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. Snapped from her too-intimate thoughts, Allison put an extra step of space between them and stiffened her movements slightly. She really understood why women fell head over feet for him; he was the very definition of intoxicating. Or, again, it could have been those cosmos that she’d sucked down.

“We’ll talk about all that tomorrow,” she said finally, vaguely aware of the hitch in her voice. “No business tonight.”

It was a good rule for the night. If only because she was still irritated with him losing the job she’d fought so hard for. And for whatever reason – whether it be that she was held so tenderly in his arms, or because they had yet to argue once this evening – she wanted the night to stay as pleasant as it had begun.

Just as she was about to rest her head against his broad, muscular chest (something she begrudgingly admitted was a very attractive trait indeed), the music changed. Faster tempo. Changing lights. People moving in a more wanton fashion. She tensed a bit in Finn’s arms.

But then, on second thought, she had wanted to give Estelle Leonard one more barmy tabloid. Forcing herself to relax and appear nonplussed, she stared up at Finn. “Please, dollface, don’t let me stand in your way of busting a move.”
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For an uptight publicist, Allison was decidedly light on her feet on the dance floor. Finn twirled though the crowds with a practiced grace.

“We both know you’re not that innocent, Finn, really.” He twirled her out gracefully and brought her back to him. Their eyes didn’t stray from each other. “Besides, without girls like Corrine, a lot of your product line would suffer.”

“Birds like Corrine,” Her name came out as though it tasted bad on his tongue. “are the very epitome of everything that is wrong with the media nowadays.”

“If I’m going to take you on as a client,” Her voice held the tell tale drawl that came with having a few too many. Finn couldn’t help but smile, he’d been there many a times, but it was nice to see his publicist let loose for a change. “you’re going to have to make a few concessions to your eccentricities.”

“Eccentricities?” He asked with a grin. That was certainly the most polite anyone had ever called him a loon before.

As he spun her out and brought her back to him, a change came over her face. Her eyes blinked slowly and she drew in a deep breath. Her hazel eyes sought out his. A curious look flitted through those large almond shaped eyes. A deep chuckle bubbled up from within him, and that was all it took to cause her to stiffen in his embrace. She put a bit of space between them.

“We’ll talk about all that tomorrow,” she said finally, vaguely aware of the hitch in her voice. “No business tonight.”

And with that statement, she closed the gap between them once again. Her head moved down to rest against his chest but before she could complete the task, the tempo of the music changed. A lively song seemed to float through the air as the couples on the floor seemed to step apart and begin swaying in that lacklustre movements that they called dancing. It was pathetic and boring. Not at all what Finn would call dancing.

He could feel Allison’s form relax in his grasp as she looked up at him with a challenging grin on her face.

“Please, dollface, don’t let me stand in your way of busting a move.”

A mischievous gleam filled his hazel eyes as he stepped back from her, his hand still holding hers lightly. “Can’t dance alone, now can I angeleyes?”

And just as he was about to ‘bust a move’ something caught his eye. A blur of black and orange whirling about on the dance floor with a gangly awkwardness that appalling. But the lad was giving it his all and that alone was enough to earn Finn’s respect.

“Poor bugger actually thinks he’s good out there.” He muttered. Allison shot him a glance that very clearly read ‘Like you can do better.’

Finn had never been one to turn down a challenge like that. Dipping his head slightly, he lay a soft, searching kiss on her lips before he pulled away from her. He flashed a cheeky grin at her. “It was for luck, sweetness. Can’t fault a lad for that now can you?”

Stepping toward the wildly dancing mass of Halloween colours, Finn watched for only a few seconds. He head nodding slightly to the music as he watched the young fellow.

Finally, Finn began to move. His entire body was moved by the thump of the bass and flashing of the lights. His arm flung out as he began to move his feet in a very quick step over the dance floor. The other lad stopped his dance for a few moments in order to watch Finn.

The crowd had moved back to let the two dancers have a bit of space, creating a bit of a circle. The Masquerade was about to have its first dance off of the evening.. Finn’s grin widened and he truly let himself go with the music. His feet kicking and arms flailing he whirled around the dance floor in a flurry of movement.

With a very deep bow and wide gesture of his long arms, Finn stopped in order for the boy to have his turn. He grinned encouragingly at the kid with a cheeky wink. As if to say, 'Do your worst'.
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