| Details for A Chance Encounter |
| Summary: | Simon and Veruca spark a new acquaintance at The Natrix. |
| Date: | 09-15-1937 |
| Location: | The Natrix Dance Hall |
| Related: | None |
| Characters |
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The Natrix Dance Hall London
Sat Sep 15, 1937 ((Sat Sep 15 23:45:54 2012)) (D,2 NW)
It is a summer night. The weather is hot and drizzling.
Formerly a restaurant and bar alone since 1850, this building has been remodeled and updated to also include a large dance floor and bandstand and stage. The restaurant still lives in that the white linen draped round tables positioned around the dance floor are catered to the best Saltimbocca dishes in England. The other regular Italian food fare is also deliciously found on the menus in the center of the table that are crystal plaques engraved and frosted so the lettering sparkles in the dim light making the script easier to read. Silver is used liberal in the decoration, the table legs, the chair legs and backs besides the green tapestry cushions are all silver. The styling beyond that is all very modern art deco. Greens and silvers prevailing. The live orchestra always always has a finger on the pulse of the crowd, they pick up tempo or slow things down with amazing empathy.
The last vestiges of summer cling to London, finding this Saturday evening a bit steamy with the light drizzle that wets the streets of the city. A new dance hall has opened up, and this is Veruca's first chance to check it out. Even though it's considered relatively early by some, there is still a nice crowd in the club, and the live orchestra plays unobtrusively for the dancers without making conversation impossible. Coming through the door, the tall witch pauses to look around, moving aside from the entry to cast her gaze around at those gathered. She's heard it's a club for muggles as well as the wizarding community, and her gaze might have a predatory edge. Her eyes linger here and there, as she smoothes the skirt of her clingy black dress, and lifts a hand to unnecessarily pat at her chignon.
Simon sits quietly by himself in a corner booth, a glass of scotch raised to his lips. The English government really should just change the uniform requirements just for him, as he's again wearing a fine, tailored charcoal suit. His bright blue eyes scan the crowd, watching the dancers with a smile on his lips.
As Simon scans the crowd, Veruca scans him from across the room. Even from a distance, the clear blue of his eyes catches her attention and holds it for more than a moment. Although he's seated, it's not hard to judge that the man is tall-ish, fit, and knows a thing about dressing.
Simon spies Veruca and gives her a smile, gesturing over to the bartender to supply her with whatever drink she desires and put it on His Majesty's tab. After that he'll wave her over to his booth.
The gentleman's smile is returned, before Veruca turns her attention to the waiter that approaches her. They speak briefly, the waiter motioning toward Simon, and after the witch expresses her preference, she moves toward the corner booth at Simon's entreaty, fairly gliding across the floor with the smoothness of her steps. She stops beside the table, a smile gracing her face, and inquires, "And may I ask who I have to thank for my first drink of the evening?"
Simon smiles at Veruca and says, "I'm Lieutenant Simon Moore." He scoots over on the bench and gestures to the spot he's created, "Please, have a seat." He takes sip of his glass and placing it quietly on the table.
It's only a momentary hesitation before Veruca slips into the space, offering her hand and an introduction to the man. "Veruca Max. Lieutenant Moore, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." They're at a corner table in the bustling club, and it's only a moment before a glass of clear liquid is placed in front of Veruca by a waiter.
Simon smiles at her and dips his head, "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." He twirls his glass idly on the surface of the table, his eyes still resting on Veruca, "So, what brings you to the Natrix, Miss Max?"
Raising the glass for a sip, Veruca regards the man over the rim, licking her lips delicately as she returns the glass to the table. Again the smile, enigmatic, warm, she can turn it on when she's a mind to. "Well, it's Saturday night, there's a new club open, so I felt compelled to stop by." Her fingers slide lightly on the rim of the glass. "And yourself?"
Simon smirks over at her, picking up his glass and taking a quick sip. He swallows and wipes the corner of his lip with his thumb, saying, "Oh, I don't know. Decided I was quite tired of pushing paper here and there. Felt like having a drink with a beautiful woman."
Veruca isn't one to feign simpering over a compliment, nor deny it's validity. Instead, in her typical style, the man's remark quirks her smile. "Well, isn't it lucky then, that we've bumped into each other." She suspects he's a muggle, but sometimes it's a bit dicey to tell in mixed establishments unless one is in the wizard only area. She shifts easily in the seat, leaning slightly toward Simon, eyes on his face. "And that's what His Majesty tasks a man such as yourself? Paperwork?" Her voice is smooth, carrying over the orchestra easily without having much more volume than it takes to reach Simon's ear.
Simon smirks at her, saying, "A stroke of luck, indeed." His accent is a posh one, that's for sure. He leans forward as well, as if telling a secret, "Would you believe me if I told you…yes?" He smirks, leaning back and continuing, "I get to spend all day signing transfer requests and requisition forms. A thrilling time in His Majesty's service."
Veruca tsks softly. "What a waste of valuable resources," she says, letting her eyes deliberately travel over the well fitted cut of his suit. At least, above the tablecloth. As her eyes raise back to his face, her glass comes up once more for a sip.
Simon lets himself by sized up by the woman. He just sits their, legs crossed and an arm thrown back over the booth. He sips his scotch again and says, "Hrmm. I suppose. Though I do quite enjoy being in charge. A soldier saluting me every time I walk by…well that's just top."
Audrey Taylor breezes into the room with the grace of a ballerina, and all the subtlety of a rampaging rhino. Tonight she is wearing a slim gown that would be strapless, save for the web of silver thread that comprises the garment from the bosom up. At first, it is all hugs and air-kisses to the cheeks with a dozen different people, each more wealthy and influential than the last. But there is plenty of celebrity in the room tonight; at least enough to buy Audrey time to part from the crowd and get a drink.
The singer/actress saunters over to the bar, waves to get the bartender's attention. As she waits, her eyes drift over the other customers, and land upon Simon, facing away from her. She follows his gaze to Veruca. Recognizing her neighbour from occasionally passing in the hall or elevator, she gives a bright smile, and a wry "get him, girl" smirk.
He just keeps getting better and better, Veruca muses, one brow arching slightly as she regards him. Oh, she could comment on him being in charge, but she chooses not to. Yet. Instead, a mild flurry of activity catches her attention, and her eyes follow Audrey's glide to the bar. Of course she recognizes the woman, and not just from their shared building. One would, quite simply, have to have lived under a rock to not know the beautiful songstress by sight. An inclination of her head acknowledges the silent message between the women, and Rue's eyes again fix on Simon.
Simon follows Veruca's eyes over to Audrey, but the smirk seems to be lost on him. He gives the performer a smile and a nod, having thoroughly enjoyed her show the other evening. He turns back to face Veruca and finishes his scotch off, flagging the waiter down to get a refill.
After the waiter takes Simon's empty glass, Veruca declining a refill for the moment, she returns to the topic at hand. Gleaning information about the man with whom she dallies. "And do you live in a barracks?" she asks, "With all the King's Men, as it were?" The smile remains easy on her lips, a light tease in her tone.
Simon nods at Veruca, "I do, indeed. It's not that bad most of the time. I get my own little room. It's a shame I can't have company, though." He looks her up and down as she did him a moment ago.
Although her expression doesn't change a bit, that is a drat moment for Veruca. But still, solutions can come to those who seek them with enough determination. Unfortunately, a clandestine apparation in the middle of the night is clearly out of the question in Simon's case. Pity. She meets his eyes when his inspection finishes, murmuring an agreement with him, "Yes, that is a shame."
Simon smirks and nods to her, "A true travesty." He smiles warmly at the waiter as he brings him his drink and gives a quiet 'thank you'. Simon lifts the glass and takes a sip, looking over at her, "So, what is it you do, Miss Max?"
"I am the private secretary for a captain of industry, Lieutenant Moore." There's amusement in Rue's eyes, saying this, for it's still not often she has had the chance. "I've started fairly recently, but I'm sure in time the gentleman will be wondering what he ever did without me." Her words come lightly, but she has every intention of making them a reality.
Simon takes another sip of his glass, setting it down on the table when he's done. He looks over at her and says, "Oh, I'm sure he'll find himself if dire straits should you ever take leave of him. I'm starting to wonder if I'll make it on my own after you leave."
Now, there are compliments and there is bullshit, and Veruca can tell the difference. But it amuses her, and she laughs softly, sliding her hand to rest on the back of his with a light pat. "I'm sure you'll find a way to manage, Lieutenant." Her fingers hold the softness of one who has never had to do hard work, and the touch lingers for a moment.
Simon grins broadly at her, saying, "Hrmmm. I'm not so sure. In any case, I'll simply have to treasure the moments." He glances down at the touch, smirking slightly and saying, "What do you like to do for fun?"
Veruca lets her fingers slide away across his skin, to pick up her glass. She swirls it lightly, glancing around. "Go out to new clubs," she says as her eyes return to Simon. "Talk to handsome soldiers. The things most people like to do for fun, I expect." Conquer muggles, oh yeah, did she forget that? Hm.
Simon smirks at her and says, "Oh? Well it would seem that we've both been incredibly lucky this evening." He idly taps the glass against the table, looking over at her, "Would you like to go for a walk, Miss Max?"
Veruca seems to consider this for a moment, before giving a slight nod. "I think some fresh air would be lovely," she says agreeably. She moves to slip out of the booth, and her skirt inches up slightly as she moves. As she stands it slips back down, once more hiding that little flash of extra bare leg. Taking a step away from the booth, Veruca turns and looks at Simon expectantly.
Simon slides over and stands up, taking leave from Veruca for a moment to go settle his tab at the bar. He returns and offers his arm for her to take, "Well, let's be on our way, then."
Veruca notes, as he moves away briefly, that her estimate of his height was more or less accurate, as was her assessment of his build. Military men certainly do keep in shape. She slides her hand into the crook of his elbow, moving easily to follow his guidance across the floor and out of the club.