Trevor has Patience...for now.

[Guest]

Like Stephen Sondheim wrote, "There's No Place like London". Thinking of the old London Sweeney Todd portrayed, it was nothing like it is now. No depraved barbers turning people into pie, no crazy women grabbing at his crotch in a mad daze, and no fake Italian Irishmen selling bottles of piss. Trevor laughed as he walked down the London sidewalks, humming "Pretty Women" as he went about his way. Why was he here again...ah, it didn't matter. Trevor was just having a stroll, but a captivating aroma took his nose and dragged his muscularly toned body into a door, bell ringing as it swung open. A quaint little cafe it was, small tables, delightfully crafted cups and plates abound. Scones everywhere. Trevor had never had a scone. He bought one immediately and plopped into the nearest possible seat.

It was kinda sweet, really. Nice and glazed. He wiped some crumbs from the corner of his mouth and licked them off his thumb, combing the area. Fancily dressed women sipping tea, pinkies extended. The hell? Why did these women do this? They didn't talk, just ate little and drank tea. Was there some sort of language they'd developed that needed no words? Or did they just not like each other? ...They were probably mute. That's right, mutes. But there was one woman he did spot. A brunette, porcelain skin. What a beauty. Was she looking this way? Trevor adjusted his hair just in case.

[Patience Vinrouge]

Tea. It was... somewhat pleasant. Patience Vinrouge was doing what she did best... well, almost. What she did best was not acceptable in polite company. Her eyes sparkled momentarily at the thought. No, she was doing what she did second best. She was out being a lady. A small selection of society women were gathered at a refined cafe in London, merely being seen. They would speak occasionally, in quiet, polite tones. Mostly it related to several upcoming events in the upper society circle. Patience would chime in when appropriate, although she did find herself slightly bored by the affair. The non-criminal side of life could be tedious. Things with the Dresdens had seriously slowed, so Patience had decided to promote her non-criminal side until something good came up. At least now, the clothing she got to wear on this side was of a wider selection. Today Patience wore a black pencil skirt then went to her knees. Black heels were on her feet, although the red soles flashed up occasionally when she shifted her ankles. Her blouse was three-quarter-length sleeved, with a v-neck. It was a rich purple shade, which complemented the dark silver scarf that was wound around her neck. Her hair was down today and the diamond studs twinkled in her ears from the light. She wore seven rings across her ten fingers. All in all, Patience felt fantastic. But when wasn't she?

She lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip of the tea, glancing towards the door as it chimed a new arrival. Well. Well, well, well. Fresh meat. A man who's body fairly rippled with muscle had strolled in for a scone. A little naïve looking, but that didn't bother Patience so much. As long as the man was not tied down by another lady (Patience was somewhat against being a mistress), and could use his hips, then he would suit Patience just fine. She looked over at him, noticing as he mussed his hair up to make it more presentable. A small smile curled her lips. The ladies would be finishing their tea time shortly and Patience could stay behind. After all, she needed some new blood in her bed. Derek was wonderful, yes, but she needed a little spice.

[Guest]

She smiled, YES! Trevor could honestly say that bringing a smile to someone was a fantastic thing, whether through comedy or otherwise...but he hadn't done anything. Was she laughing at him?...No...that smile had some different meaning. Trevor didn't understand this meaning, but it made goosebumps go up his spine. Soon the ladies left, all besides this one, the one that was looking over him. Trevor pulled at his shirt collar, revealing broad collarbone. It was a tad hot in here. Speaking of hot, he took notice of the sun rays coming through the window. They shone off the gold of his hair and brought more defined shadow to his shirt, outlining his muscles more broadly. His cerulean eyes glinted in the sun, making his irises look like glass. He smiled then looked back to the woman. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He stood in his black cargo pants and boots and went back to the counter. He smiled and asked for a glass of tea, in which the girl at the counter's face turned red and she almost ran to complete the order. He took the cup with a nod and she left the counter, holding her hands on her cheeks. Odd. He sat back down and took a sip, returning his gaze to the woman. What was she smiling about?

[Sponsored content]