How Green Becomes Wood

"For some of us, they are a better comfort than a cross or the star and crescent." Dark joked back with her, "But it turned out favorable in the end, I believe. Daizi and I are glad you decided to stay involved."
 
"If you would," Dark replied, handing his plate to Ciara, "It will be only a moment."

The bar was to Ciara's back with how the room was oriented, and after handing his plate to her, he walked off towards the bar, suddenly unchaperoned and untethered.
 
Almost instantly, two girls dressed much like Kimberly, but with one in red and the other in silver, sashayed over to Dark.

"Hey, handsome. What are you doing all by yourself?" asked the one in silver.

"Did you come alone?" the red one asked, batting her extremely long lashes.
 
The two girls looked like they might melt like butter right there. The one in red managed to pull herself together first. "They might... if they were hot enough to bring some visual interest," she replied. "I mean, I would say the average IQ in here has to be at least 180 if not higher, but it's not often you get a high IQ and high looks at the same time."
 
"I was invited by Ciara Cunningham," Dark replied, feeling for the first time he could be successful as a James Bond styled spy, "I was only just going to get a drink." The mischievous and egotistical part of his brain thought he could probably get state secrets out of them, but he was fairly certain Ciara would kill him if he tried.
 
Both girls' expressions changed to disbelief. "Really?" they demanded. The one in red blushed faintly, and both moved back. Their feet didn't move, but their attitudes changed, and they leaned back.

"Wow, that is very impressive," the silver one said meekly. "And... surprising."

The one in red glanced toward the bar. "If you're fetching her a drink, we shouldn't hold you up."

The silver one rallied and gave him a flirty smile, though a more reserved one that was clearly meant more in play than seriousness. "Save me a dance?" They moved out of his way with tiny curtsied.
 
"If you insist," Dark replied, a faint light in his the eyes of his otherwise unexpressive face. That was a neat trick, and one he wished worked everywhere he went. At the bar, he ordered two glasses of champagne and took a long, quiet sip of one before returning to where Ciara sat. "Your name seems to carry a lot of weight here."
 
"Does it?" Ciara asked, carefully setting his plate on one of the tiny tables so she could take her champagne glass. "I suppose I am some of these people's boss." After a delicate sip, she asked, "Who were you speaking with?"
 
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