Viva Bedazzled Las Vegas

[7twistedwishes]

It is actually a two-step trip: using the door from Milliways lands the couple at Scarlet's place in San Fancisco, but in the same fraction of a second, she wills herself and Weyland to be somewhere else.

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[mechanicalswans]

He sips his drink, watching her.

It's nice. Comfortable, even. But there's something... off. Something he can't quite place.

[7twistedwishes]

Maybe it is a word, or a confession. Maybe something deeper.

THe Devil is not lingering by that abyss: she orders the rose petals, using an irresistible cajoling tone, drawing in the flies with honey.

Millenia of convincing humans to do her bidding.

[mechanicalswans]

He refills the champagne glasses while she talks on the phone. It gives him something to do, something less to think about.

[7twistedwishes]

She puts the phone away and returns fully into Weyland's lap, hands caressing his chest. "They said twenty minutes... fast enough for you?"

[mechanicalswans]

"That should be plenty," he says with a small nod, and takes another sip of his drink. "You've got everything taken care of, it looks like."

[7twistedwishes]

"Most of it." She caresses Weyland's cheek. "Now, I just need to make you happy, reckless and evil."

She gazes into his eyes, tilting head a bit. "What can I do to achieve that, Weyland? What would it take, to make you happy?"

[mechanicalswans]

"Can you help me forget?" he asks quietly. "For a little while, at least."

Too many things have happened. Maybe he's simply too old.

[7twistedwishes]

"I can." That is why people indulge, often: to quiet the pain. To silence the voices, to drown away the ghosts.

The Devil kisses his lips, tenderly, warm and teasing in her own way.

It is an invite to accept her presence and let it fill his universe. And not think of what haunts him.

[mechanicalswans]

He closes his eyes, and returns the kiss.

He wants to forget. He wants to have at least a few moments out of eternity where he doesn't have to remember his quest for revenge, his search for his wife.

He wants to be happy.

[7twistedwishes]

So he wishes.

So she makes happen, reaching in, soothing the pain, taking off edges, quieting his turmoil.

The Devil only draws back from the kisses when the doorbell rings. "Rose petals."

[mechanicalswans]

It feels... a bit like being drunk, only without the haze.

Like a weight is being lifted from him.

She's so soft and warm and inviting...

He nods, glancing back toward indoors. "They're very prompt."

[7twistedwishes]

"Yes." She grins, disentangling from him to go get the door.

Eye-candy and generous tips, good ways to secure good service: the young men ring the baskets of pears over, The Devil tucks a couple bills into their pants' pockets and sends them away.

A moment later, the water is covered in a thick layer of rose petals.

[mechanicalswans]

He refills the glasses yet again while she is gone, grinning as he looks off toward where she has gone.

She certainly has a way with the young men of the service staff.

And the petals...

...he remembers a bath in rose petals, but he can't remember when it was. Not that it matters; right now, this is all that matters.

[7twistedwishes]

It was now. There is nothing but now, and her, summoning a few candles into being, the right kind of lighting for romance.

The Devil joins Weyland again in the water, seeking his lips for a long, tender kiss.

[mechanicalswans]

Candles... perfect.

Everything is perfect. The way the candlelight shines on her wet skin, the way she feels in his arms, the soft tickle of the rose petals as they move about on the surface of the water.

He can accept perfection.