completely bewitched. [OPEN]

[Charlotte Timmons]

open to anyone. :]

Vanity loved the nights like this. The thriving, bustling, having a good time nights that plagued the Cabaret. She loved the feeling of being looked at, loved doing the looking, too. She loved dancing, the laughter, the snickers, the kisses in dark places. She loved everything about it. Even when she was approached for an escort. Vanity loved it all. It was what she thrived on. It was how she lived. Life before the Cabaret just didn't cut it anymore. She had grown way too accustomed to the way things worked in the club for the damned that she couldn't imagine trying things out the human way again. Not that she could ever be human again. She had sold her soul for the chance to be forever beautiful and forever adored. Undoubtedly, there were those who hated her - who wanted to claw her eyes out - but Vanity didn't worry about those people. They were just jealous, after all.

Charlotte made her way around the tables, stopping and chatting with a few demons here and there - offering to get some fallens a new drink. She wasn't a waitress, and she wasn't about to stoop so low to be one; but there were times where she felt it was a part of her job. Something she needed to do in order to keep her hands from being idle. Idle hands were the devil's play thing, or...well, that's how the mortal saying went. Of course, if you actually had the pleasure of talking with the Devil - he might say something else. Charlotte laughed, that sultry 'you're so bad' laugh, pressed her hand against some demon's shoulder and meandered away again; weaving into another cluster of hellions. She was good at bouncing around from group to group, she was good at a lot of things.

But of course, she was bad at a lot of things, too. She just didn't dwell on the things she was bad at. She wasn't one to dwell on the things she couldn't fix. And Charlotte knew she couldn't fix the things she was bad at. Like maintaining friendships or forming relationships. Everyone was out to get her, out to get her spot, out to be better than. Charlotte wasn't about to step aside and let someone take her place because she allowed them into her personal bubble. No sirree. She was perfectly fine with being the best at what she did, and not worrying about the things she wasn't so dandy at. If she didn't think about what she couldn't accomplish, then she could easily focus on all of the things that she could accomplish and accomplish well. After awhile, Charlotte decided to take a seat in a back table. Technically, she should be getting ready to perform - to put on a show and make the Cabaret what it was meant to be; but at the time she just wanted to collapse and relax. Maybe order herself a drink.

A water. That was all she got. She sipped at it, her eyes moving around the Cabaret; taking in all the sights and wonders. She loved this place, she really did. Or, as close as she could feel love for something, be it an object or a person. It was a fond feeling. She had grown attached to the place. But only because she couldn't go back to the real world and she didn't think she could stand Hell for too long. The Cabaret was her home. If something happened and Mister Fletcher abandoned it, she'd probably choose limbo to anything else.

[Nicholas Foster]

Nicholas moved through the main room like a shadow. His presence disturbed nothing, while his eyes saw everything. When necessary, Nicholas could easily make a public show of force which sent most sane people running for the exit. But the best security required far more subtlety. True skill meant being able to escort someone from the room without anyone -- not even the person being ejected -- realizing what was happening.

Of course, Nicholas considered it his duty to protect everyone who worked at the cabaret. But he always kept a special watch over Madame Drew’s girls. Too many men assumed that a lady’s status as an ‘escort’ meant she was fair game for any ape with a bit of cash and a hard-on. Very specific procedures existed for securing a lady’s services, and Nicholas made it his job to see that those procedures were followed.

So Nicholas kept a protective eye on Charlotte as she worked her way through the crowd. Not that she looked like she needed help. In fact, Nicholas found himself admiring the way she made it all seem so easy -- a witty comment here, a flirty laugh there. A casual touch which might mean nothing, or might mean everything in the whole world. Even before he’d lost his voice, Nicholas had never been any good at such things. Really, looking back on it, he couldn’t remember how he’d managed to talk to anyone at all.

Charlotte appeared to finish her socializing, and settled at a table in the back of the room. She’d be safe enough there. Nicholas started to turn away, to resume his rounds, when he noticed a large man staggering toward Charlotte. Even someone without a vampire’s heightened senses would be able to smell the reek of alcohol wafting off him. Concerned about a possible problem, Nicholas began to move closer.

As Nicholas had feared, the man stopped at Charlotte’s table. Planting one heavy hand over hers, he dug the other one into his pocket, producing a wad of hundred dollar bills. These were tossed down in front of Charlotte. “Hey Gorgeous,” he slurred. “How about you and me go somewhere private to celebrate my winnings?”

Nicholas tensed. He usually let the girls decide how to handle these situations -- some of them had peculiar tastes and even more peculiar clients. Nicholas didn’t want to interfere where he wasn’t wanted. But if Charlotte looked like she needed help, he was more than ready to step in.

[Charlotte Timmons]

Charlotte loved her job. Regardless of whether or not some people saw her as a prostitute. She loved the way it made her feel, and she loved the way she was fully capable of manipulating things the way she wanted them to turn out. People might look down on her, but Charlotte knew that they couldn't even attempt to do what she did on a nightly basis. It was an art. It took some form of expertise. An expertise that more than half of the population didn't have. Charlotte had spent years perfecting it; and she was still only so close to being absolutely perfect. She was one of Madame Drew's finest, she was going to keep it that way. Even with the overwhelming reasons to love her job, Charlotte had moments where she paused in what she was doing and literally had a 'what the fuck' moment.

Usually these moments occurred in the middle of a job, but by then it was too late to turn around and go back to trying to work people into her clutches. There were the rare times where she could see a bad idea before it happened, though, and when those times did come up, Charlotte tried to make a graceful run for it before it became a worse situation. Then again, there were moments that Charlotte saw it was a bad situation but couldn't get away fast enough. This current situation that was approaching her in a stumble was easily one of those. She set her glass down on the table and sighed, watching the money drop onto the table top. Her gaze lifted and she looked this drunken man over. She might go through with it, she could use the extra money; but there was just something about him that made her skin crawl. Vanity hated men who thought they could have any girl for any price - there was a code, a system. Charlotte had expectations. If men didn't meet those expectations, she didn't touch them. No matter the price.

Dropping her gaze to the money, she pushed it around with her fingertips and counted how much he had thrust at her. Another sigh. This wasn't going to work. Pulling that charming smile on over her face, she neatly bundled the money together and handed it back at the drunkard; "Look, darling, I'm sorry... but I'm off the clock tonight. I'm sure one of the other girls would be happy to suit your desires if you stumble over their way.." Charlotte waited until his hand secured around the handful of bills before she grabbed her water and stood from the table; deciding she'd head back to the Bordello for the rest of the night. It was a shame, she wanted to spend her night in the Main room - socializing and being happy. How is it that one man could ruin that horribly well? Charlotte smiled at him again, perhaps a bit too flirtatiously, and turned to leave before he grabbed her arm. "Sir," her voice was low, "I'm sorry...but I'm not working tonight."

Vanity wasn't usually put into the 'damsel in distress' role. She was headstrong and independent. When drunk men didn't understand that no meant no, she could usually distract them by pushing them off onto an entertainer that was willing to take them on. But as she looked around now, she couldn't see any that would be willing to take him away. Just as Charlotte was about to succumb to the idea of having to actually deal with his paws all over her, her gaze landed on Nicholas and she swallowed her pride before sending him a look that asked for assistance. It was what his job was, wasn't it?

[Nicholas Foster]

For a moment, it looked like Charlotte wouldn’t need his help after all. Nicholas watched while she turned the man down and started to make her escape. Charlotte handled it very smoothly, but apparently her admirer had gotten too drunk to take a hint. “I don’t want no one else,” he insisted, grabbing Charlotte’s arm. “I want you. That’s what you’re for, ain’t it?”

The minute the man seized Charlotte, Nicholas was in motion. Even as her eyes met his, silently requesting aid, Nicholas clamped his hand on the man’s shoulder and yanked him backward.

While not lacking muscle, Nicholas was far from beefy. This often caused overconfidence in those who never stopped and pondered exactly what sort of creature might be hired to keep the peace at a club for the damned. And the man who’d assaulted Charlotte clearly wasn’t in a pondering mood. When he felt Nicholas’s hand on his shoulder, he spun around and threw a punch.

Nicholas braced himself as he saw the blow coming. Then, the man’s fist connected with his face, and Nicholas felt a burst of pain. Pain was not something being a vampire had saved him from. However, he’d learned how to suppress his reaction to it. Instead of stumbling, Nicholas moved with inhuman speed, snatching the man’s wrist before he could draw it back from the punch.

Sometimes Nicholas liked his job a little too much -- usually when he was hungry and his bosses wanted someone ‘dealt with’. But he also enjoyed teaching valuable lessons about the proper treatment of women. While the man struggled to free himself, Nicholas applied just enough pressure to break one of the bones in his wrist.

As so often happened, the sensation of pain proved to be an effective cure for drunken aggression. A whimper tore from the man’s lips and he stopped struggling. But Nicholas wasn’t done with him yet. Catching the man’s eyes, Nicholas nodded at Charlotte. For a moment, the man didn’t seem to understand. But another broken bone, followed by another nod at Charlotte, conveyed Nicholas’s message.

“Miss, I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The man’s words came out in a rushed stammer. “I won’t bother you no more. I promise.”

[Charlotte Timmons]

It didn't take Nicholas long to head over in her direction. In fact, Charlotte was pretty certain he had already moved toward her before she even made eye contact with him. He was quick like that, good at his job, too. She didn't take a step back when he apprehended the drunk man who was clearly not getting the hint, she stayed where she was standing and watched Nicholas move quickly, without a word. Always without a word. He was mute, and everyone who worked in the Cabaret knew it. They didn't bother him about it, though. After all, he was the head security guard and a vampire. Anyone who went to mess with him was wishing to be maimed before they got a single word out. She lifted her gaze to look at Nicholas as he broke something in the wrist of the man in front of her. His cry of pain would have brought a smirk to Vanity's face if she wasn't in the main room and in plain public view.

Figuring Nicholas was going to release the man now, Charlotte turned her attention on the vampire with a look of gratitude. But he wasn't finished, apparently. He nodded at Vanity and then hurt the man again...and one more nod. Charlotte hid her look of confusion rather well, but she felt relieved when she finally realized what it was Nicholas was wanting the man to do - the man seemed to pick up on it, too and he apologized to Charlotte. Of course, the best thing for Char to do in this situation would be to nod and let sleeping dogs lie - but she couldn't do that. She couldn't just let things go, she had to go and make matters worse. It was just the type of person she was. She didn't intentionally try to make things more difficult. It was the way it happened; you would think Charlotte would have learned how to avoid it from now on but of course not.

She stepped forward a bit, placed her hand on the man's cheek and smiled; "No worries, love," the man blinked at her, "How about I make you a deal? Tomorrow night, you come around here..make certain you're sober..and I'll give you a free show, hmm? It's the least I could do, don't you think?" She winked and looked over the man's shoulder at Nicholas before patting the man's cheek and motioning for the ready for blood vampire to let the man go. Once released, the man stumbled away - probably to get even more drunk than before - and left Nicholas and Charlotte standing idly by. A few minutes of silence, and Charlotte offered Nicholas a bright smile; "Come on, hero, let me buy you a drink." She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the bar.

He was on the clock, so it would have to be water or a soda pop, or even a nice glass of blood for him - she didn't know what he would want. But she would get it for him. Charlotte was grateful. She knew, for a fact, that she wouldn't have been able to handle that man on her own. She probably could have sweet talked her way out of it, but at the moment she hadn't felt very sweet and she wasn't about to give up and give in. Nicholas had done her a huge favor, and she was going to make it up to him - in the most innocent way possible. She looked over at him as she approached the bar, smiled again, and then nodded at the bartender, "Whatever Mister Foster usually gets, and put it on my tab." The bartender whirled around and began to make the drink as Charlotte turned back around; "Thanks for saving me."

OOC::// I think she talks enough for the both of them. :]

[Nicholas Foster]

Nicholas felt saddened by Charlotte’s attempt to make nice with the man who’d just assaulted her. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to lower herself like that, didn’t need to let herself be used by scum. But the unfortunate truth was...maybe she did. Nicholas wasn’t always thrilled with his employer’s choice of victims. Still, he killed them anyway. He did his job. Just like Charlotte. It was a pity that even selling your soul didn’t buy a life without any unpleasantness.

Reluctantly, Nicholas released Charlotte’s admirer. As the man staggered off, Nicholas followed him with his eyes, contemplating the possibility of ambushing him when he left the club. Nicholas didn’t really need to feed yet, but a snack never hurt. And it would spare Charlotte from being groped by a goon.

The feel of someone taking his arm interrupted Nicholas’s speculations. Other than being punched, kicked, slapped, or throttled, Nicholas didn’t get touched much. So, when his head jerked around to see who’d grabbed him, he almost expected it to be the prelude to an attack. But it was only Charlotte, beaming brightly at him. Instantly, Nicholas relaxed. It was refreshing to experience a more friendly form of touch.

“Come on, hero, let me buy you a drink."

That won her a smile. Nicholas hadn’t been anyone’s hero for a long time. To tell the truth, he rather missed it.

As Charlotte led him over to the bar and ordered him a drink, Nicholas decided that he liked her. Her cheerful chatter reminded of Cassie. Nicholas only hoped that Charlotte’s upbeat personality wasn’t a mask worn over madness, like Cassie’s had been. Cassie...gods, how long since he’d thought about Cassie? His poor doomed sire, who never lived to see what she created.

Nicholas tried to look modest when Charlotte thanked him for saving her. But he couldn’t quite resist responding with a theatrical bow and a wink. There was something about her playfulness which he found contagious.

At that moment, the bartender placed a shot glass filled with amber liquid on the counter in front of Nicholas. Other than blood -- which Nicholas always took directly from the source -- scotch was the only thing he ever drank. And even it only rarely passed his lips. Nicholas’s body no longer possessed the ability to digest food or drink in the conventional manner. Any attempt to do so made him violently sick. But alcohol still seeped into his system, allowing him about an hour of drunkenness before the vomiting began. On some nights, some lonely empty nights, Nicholas was willing to pay any price for that hour.

Thankfully, tonight was not one of those nights. Nicholas had no intention of drinking the scotch. But he didn’t want to offend Charlotte by sending it back. So he raised his glass, saluting her with a silent toast. Then he pretended to take a sip.

Nicholas hoped that she’d keep talking. He couldn’t add much to a conversation, but he prided himself in being a good listener. And no one was better at keeping secrets.

(OOC -- LOL! Hey, it works.)

[Charlotte Timmons]

Charlotte was amiable. She was a people pleaser; someone who only liked to see people happy. It was part of who she was. It was why she was so good at her job and yet so incapable of walking away from situations that probably would have been better left without a smile or a happy ending. She wanted people to be happy, whether or not they be her friends or her clients. This was sometimes difficult, though, because Charlotte was insanely competitive and even more so she was incredibly vain. So, while Nicholas might have felt a little disappointed that Charlotte had to offer the drunkard a free show tomorrow; Charlotte had felt it was necessary in order to keep the man happy and keep him coming around. Regardless, it was a part of her job…and she doubted Madame Drew would be too happy if she learned Charlotte had allowed a high paying customer walk away after a tiffle with Nicholas. She didn't think it might upset the vampire, though, and if she had…maybe she wouldn't have backpedaled a bit to make the drunk happy.

He smiled at her, though, and Charlotte was glad to see that. She was a dark being, yes; but she also knew that smiles were something to cherish. After ordering him his drink, she thanked him, and that received a bow and a wink. The playfulness of it all pushed away the feeling of alertness that had tightened her chest upon being grabbed by the man only moments before. She usually didn't dwell on a feeling for too long, especially if it was negative, because it affected her performance and that wasn't ever good for business. But it was relieving to be able to giggle at Nicholas' response to her thanks. He was mute, she knew this – everyone knew this – but that didn't seem to inhibit him and she admired him for that. She knew she wouldn't be able to do it. She'd probably drive herself insane with it. She watched him sip from the scotch the bartender had placed for Nicholas, and when she realized what it was – she whirled around and smacked the bartender on the back of the head, "Are you crazy? He's working tonight. Get him something without alcohol," the bartender gave her a steely glare and Charlotte sighed before turning around to Nicholas again with that smile back on her face.

A few moments later and a glass of cola was set down next to Charlotte on the bar, she picked it up and handed it to Nicholas while reaching for the scotch he wasn't really drinking. She might come off as pushy to most people, but she was rather…just forward. It bothered a lot of people, but Charlotte really didn't care. Wasn't she a contradiction? She wanted people to be happy, but she didn't care if she bothered them. She supposed it depended upon how she was bothering them. By refusing them services, she felt she had to make up for it; but if she was bothering them by being herself, well, then they could go to hell…or heaven, if that suited them as more of a torture. Setting the scotch down on the bar, Charlotte eyed Nicholas over for a bit. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't drink colas. It was probably why the bartender had given her a scotch when she asked for whatever Nicholas usually got to drink. It wasn't like she socialized with vampires often. Oh, that sounded wrong. It wasn't that she had anything against vampires, it was just…she kept to herself when it came to actually making friends.

Sure, Charlotte was a social butterfly; but she never let anyone in. That meant lowering her walls and Charlotte didn't think she should do that. It meant she was more vulnerable. Vulnerability, not something Charlotte wanted to put up with. "So," she stated after awhile, "think the Cabaret could spare you for a bit?" She didn't know what she was planning, but she knew she had to get away from the main room for a bit. She was starting to feel claustrophobic.

[Nicholas Foster]

If Nicholas had been capable of making any sound at all, he would have chuckled when Charlotte smacked the bartender. She certainly possessed spirit. He admired that. He admired anyone who didn’t let this place suck the life out of them -- no pun intended.

Although he was no more capable of drinking cola than scotch, Nicholas accepted the drink from Charlotte. Something about her made him feel alive. She actually seemed to glitter in the cabaret light, incandescent as the tinsel-draped stars which graced the tops of Christmas trees. She made him remember...what was the word? Happiness?

Charlotte seemed to be studying him, so Nicholas tilted his head, indulging in some studying of his own. What prize had Charlotte bought with her soul? Beauty? She certainly looked beautiful. Eternal youth? Nicholas could have warned her about how quickly immortality lost its thrill. Or maybe she’d traded salvation for something else -- the life of a loved one, vengeance against a villain who’d wronged her, escape from a bad situation. There were always reasons. So many reasons. How did God expect his children to resist temptation when making deals with demons was the only way they could fix their broken lives?

Nicholas felt like making a deal of his own right now. He wanted to sit down and share a drink with Charlotte. He wanted to ask her how her day was going, and if she liked her job, and whether she thought it might rain. He wanted to do something like a goddamned man for once. But he was only a dead thing, as silent and cold as the grave it belonged in.

Too soon, the novelty of hanging around a mute vampire would wear off. Charlotte would get bored, or frustrated, or repulsed. She would make her excuses and leave him to his silence. That was the way it always happened. And he would go back to pretending that he didn’t care.

Following this train of thought, Nicholas braced himself when Charlotte spoke again. But her words surprised him. She didn't try to escape. Instead, she seemed to be inviting him somewhere. Nicholas swept his gaze across the main room. It looked like a quiet night. He might be the head of security, but he wasn’t the only security. Other people would handle things in his absence. After all, what was the worst that could happen? How much trouble could a club full of demons and the damned get into?

Normally, nothing could have lured Nicholas away from his duty. His life and his work were inseparable. But there was something about this moment, something about the way he was feeling...he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers. Even at the risk of angering Mister Fletcher.

Nodding, Nicholas set down his untouched cola. Charlotte could lead him wherever she chose and he would follow.

[Charlotte Timmons]

OOC:// I'm moving them from the Main Room, but we'll keep the thread here. :] Sound good?

She waited, patiently, for his nod and when he gave it to her and set down his cola; Charlotte wasted no time in looping her arm through his and leading him out of the main room. She loved the main room, more than she did anything else, this was undoubtedly true. It was nice to be able to walk around and socialize with everyone, find out how they were doing, what they did with their day, and what they expected from the night. She loved watching them relax and she loved watching them just get rid of all the problems they were dealing with in order to have a decent night and enjoy the show. Charlotte sometimes wished she was more than just one of Madame Drew's girls. She wanted to be a dancer, or a singer – but her talent only went so far…at least, that's what Charlotte secretly thought.

Ask her about it, and she'll give you a list of all the talents she may or may not possess. She couldn't even consider being seen as someone without much talent. There were nights, however, where her vanity just wasn't enough to keep her lounging around the Cabaret…and so… she would hide out in other places. Sometimes it was the roof, other times it was the basement, or she'd simply return to the Bordello – but when that happened, she usually ran into the other girls and if Charlotte wasn't in the mood to deal with the Cabaret there was no way she was in the mood to deal with the other girls. It wasn't that Charlotte wasn't a people person, because we've already established that she was…but she just didn't deal with competition. If she wasn't the best, she wouldn't be at all.

That was definitely the biggest flaw with Charlotte. She couldn't settle for second best. She had to be the best. And it was always difficult, because while she was good – she definitely wasn't the best. Tonight was her night off, though, and Vanity was going to spend it having a nice time with Nicholas – someone that could be a potential friend if she let him into her heart – and she wasn't going to let competition or vanity stop that from happening. Hopefully, she'd be able to keep that mindset. She led Nicholas to the backstage where the stairs to the roof opened up. Of course, it was dark out – otherwise the cabaret wouldn't be so busy; and Charlotte wouldn't be leading them both to the roof. Sometimes, Charlotte wondered what it was like to walk out in the daylight again. She didn't miss it, of course not – but she wondered from time to time. She wouldn't trade her world for anything. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

Pushing open the door to the roof, Charlotte stepped outside before Nicholas and took in the bright lights of New York in the middle of the night. There was so much evil out there, and even in the daylight it was hard to spot it in anyone; let alone spotting it in someone at night. Charlotte had given up on trying to find good in people. She just let them be. If they were damned, they were damned. A vampire? Then they were a vampire. If they were an angel, then they were an angel. She didn't discriminate. Everyone was competition. Regardless of their species or on what side of the spectrum they fell. She breathed in the cold night air for a moment before turning around to look at Nicholas, "Not much of a cola drinker are you?" Her smile, which she worked hard to make contagious, etched across her face again as she watched him easily; "I tried…I'll have to figure out another way to pay you back." Then her mind was awhirl. What could she do?

Charlotte wasn't one to let something go unrewarded, at least; not when it involved saving her from a very drunk customer. She wasn't about to let Nicholas walk away without a proper thank you gift. No, she wasn't going to sleep with him – although, that was in her job description…she was painfully aware she was one step up from a whore. But she could get him something nice, or do something nice for him. She didn't know what, though. She would have to think it over and then surprise him with it sometime later on down the road. Now was not the time to worry about such things; "So…may I ask you a question?"

[Nicholas Foster]

Nicholas followed Charlotte onto the roof. Above them, countless stars shone like pinpricks in the veil dividing earth from heaven. Below them, the city lights shone back –- man’s imperfect imitation of the divine. And then, suspended somewhere between the two, was a realm which belonged to neither. A realm currently inhabited by a damned human and a mute vampire.

It had been a long time since Nicholas last visited the roof. He’d forgotten how much he liked it. Inside the cabaret, his senses dulled to avoid being overwhelmed by the cacophony of light and noise. But up here, surrounded by relative dark and quiet, Nicholas felt them growing sharp again. He could see the patterns on a moth’s wing as it fluttered past. He could smell the lingering scent of a rose, even after it had closed its blossoms for the night. He could hear the soft beating of Charlotte’s heart.

“Not much of a cola drinker are you?"

Nicholas smiled. He wished he could tell Charlotte that he didn’t hold a grudge against cola -- he just didn’t drink much of anything these days. He wished he could tell her that her kindness had brought him more pleasure than he would have gained from actually ingesting the beverage. But that was his curse. He couldn’t say anything. And without speech, even the simplest interactions became tangled mysteries. That was why Nicholas usually avoided them.

However, when Charlotte insisted that she owed him something, Nicholas shook his head. He’d just been doing his job. That was what he did -- that was pretty much all he did.

The moth Nicholas had noticed earlier once again flitted into his peripheral vision. Swift as a pouncing cat, Nicholas’s hand shot out, and he trapped the insect in his curled fist. Then, careful not to cause it undue harm, he pinned its spread wings between his fingers and showed it to Charlotte. Nicholas wanted her to see the delicate patterns. He wanted her to share his experience, to partake in all the little wonders offered by the night. He couldn’t give her words. So he gave her this tiny piece.

"So…may I ask you a question?"

Nicholas nodded, eager to oblige. She could ask him whatever she wanted. And he would do his best to answer.

[Charlotte Timmons]

"That's alright," Charlotte said in reply to his smile, "I don't drink much cola, either;" a devilish grin slid its way across her face, "It's bad for your teeth, you know." Leave it to Charlotte to be increasingly vain at every aspect. Most people drank cola because it tasted good. Charlotte refused to drink it because it could stain and destroy her teeth. Water and alcohol suited her just fine, thank you very much. She didn't even drink alcohol very much because she was usually tipsy naturally. She was giddy, happy go lucky, and bright regardless of whether or not she was drinking. Sometimes if she was depressed, she'd drink a bit - but she tried not to be depressed, and thus rarely drank.

A part of her wondered how he did it. How he remained so silent, how he lived his life without spoken word. She was a talkative person, she liked having conversations and getting to know people. It was difficult to imagine herself not being able to talk. She admired Nicholas for his ability to go through each day without saying one word. She wondered if it frustrated him, made him depressed. She wondered if he often thought back on conversations. If he forgot what his voice sounded like. If he missed being able to stand atop a building and yell out into the inky black air. She wondered if he would give anything to have it back again. Would he have sold his soul like she had? Would he have made that deal with the devil in order for that one small thing? Or was she just so vain that she couldn't think of doing anything else had her voice been taken from her?

He seemed okay with the way things turned out for him. But Charlotte couldn't help but wonder these things. Maybe she'd ask him, or maybe not. Who knew? She didn't want to step on his toes or make him upset. An angry vampire, definitely not something Charlotte wanted to encounter alone on a rooftop. Not that Nicholas seemed to be the type to kill girls for kicks…or to express emotion considering he couldn't talk. Okay, Charlotte needed to stop thinking like this. She pulled her gaze to his hands, which held a moth – its wings spread out before her. She looked at it intently, studied it, and felt a ghost of a smile cross her lips before she lifted her gaze back up to Nicholas.

She was about to say something about the moth being trapped and yet being so gorgeous that you don't want to let it go, when Nicholas set it free without hurting it. The ghost of a smile turned into a bright one and she let her gaze linger on him a moment before turning to look back at the city lights. She hadn't forgotten how gorgeous everything was, she had just chosen to ignore it. The Cabaret was where she belonged now. Humanity wasn't an option to her any longer. Of course, she was still human – her heart still beat, her soul was still attached (painfully, mind you), and she still had those emotions she wish she could get rid of… but she no longer felt human, and wasn't that the point of humanity? Charlotte bit her lip, forced those thoughts away, and then posed her question about asking him a question. She watched him nod his head, and then she took awhile longer to think of a question that wouldn't require much verbal explanation.

It took her awhile, but she finally worded it the right way in her head, and so she turned her gaze back on Nicholas; "Do you ever miss it? Humanity, I mean."

[Nicholas Foster]

“It's bad for your teeth, you know.”

Charlotte’s words made Nicholas grin, revealing a mouth full of perfect teeth -- including two fangs. Even when his lover had been a confectioner, he’d always taken good care of his teeth. And his diligence had paid off. After all, who wanted to be a vampire with cavities?

After Charlotte had a chance to examine the moth, Nicholas released it. At least something on this rooftop could fly away and be free. For a moment, they both watched it flutter off, until Charlotte broke their silence.

When she asked him if he missed being human, Nicholas nodded without thinking about it. He wasn’t the sort who obsessively dwelled on the things he’d lost. But he carried an acute awareness of them, somewhere just below conscious thought. He knew they were there without needing to check. If Charlotte had inquired whether he was wearing pants, Nicholas would have been able to answer her just as quickly.

He missed sunlight. He missed eating normal food. He even missed churches -- the prayer candles, the images of saints trapped in colored glass, the strange aura of timelessness and peace. But there was one thing which Nicholas missed more than any other. One thing which he never would have traded away, if there had been any other way to save the people he loved.

Taking the notepad from his pocket, Nicholas elaborated on his initial response, and then showed the words to Charlotte.

Warmth. I miss feeling warm.

Down in the cabaret, Nicholas disliked using the notepad for communication. As soon as people saw him do it once, they expected him to do it every time, even when they were asking the most mundane questions. Nicholas had no intention of developing writer’s cramp scribbling out small talk. But he doubted that Charlotte would abuse the privilege. And he truly wanted to converse with her on a level which went beyond nods.

Flipping the notepad to a new page, Nicholas wrote a question for Charlotte. And you? Do you miss being like everyone else? With a sweep of his hand, Nicholas gestured at the city which lay below them like a child’s forgotten toy.

[Charlotte Timmons]

It was nice when he smiled. Charlotte didn't see too many people smile these days. She tried to make people smile more. It was difficult, though. What with the Prohibition amendment and then people selling their souls. The world was a grim place. But if only people smiled a bit more, if only they let things go and tried to be happy – then maybe the world would be a bit brighter. It was funny. Charlotte Timmons, the eternal optimist – literally. Unless she grew pessimistic over the years and eventually just decided to reside in hell for the rest of eternity. The devil was said to be a very entertaining character. Or, at least, Charlotte pictured him to be as such. She tried to be optimistic, though.

Regardless, when Nicholas smiled, it made her smile. He had such a nice smile. And while it might not be one of those 'eyes light up, I'm really happy!' smiles…she was glad she could illicit some sort of happy response from the otherwise night stalking vampire. Too many people were cranky. Charlotte was guilty of being cranky every now and then. There were times where she wouldn't be able to face herself in the mirror, and she would get depressed, and from there…well, from there everything just went downhill. Don't speak to her when she gets in those types of moods. The world was ending, only to resume the next morning. It was best to just let her be. Let her wallow. Let her get over it. Let her return to work the next night with a happy smile and a tinkling laughter.

Charlotte watched him take a notepad and scribble a reply to her question. Blinking, Charlotte glanced down at what he had written. It was rather handy that he had a notepad, but she didn't think it all that necessary. In fact, she had been looking forward to trying to just understand what he missed, if he missed anything at all. Reading the words slowly, because she had trouble reading – this would be a rather trialing night, it appeared – Charlotte glanced back up at Nicholas and offered him a sad smile. She didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't something that you could really reply to, was it? He missed being warm. She couldn't offer it to him. She couldn't fix it. She doubted telling him she would gladly give him her warmth if she could would make him feel any better. No. It was not something she could sympathize with. The most Charlotte could do was smile at him and hope that he understood that deep down…she felt for him. She couldn't imagine missing something like that.

Nicholas scribbled on the notepad again and Charlotte waited patiently, casting her gaze out at the lit up city. The sounds of laughter, of partying without alcohol on the streets. If she looked over the edge, she knew she could see small groups of people passing into doors of shops, libraries, or even brownstones where alcohol was served illegally. Her heart somewhat ached, and she tore her gaze away from the nightlife to look at Nicholas just as he showed her what he had written. It was as if he had read her mind. "I…" she stumbled slightly, turning her gaze back on the city.

Charlotte was presented with a choice: she could let her guard down for once, be honest, and tell him that sometimes she really did miss the life she had once led…or she could lie, and put on a smile, and make some witty comment about 'what's to miss?' She looked back at him, could she trust him? It wasn't like he was going to go around telling everyone. Not that anyone would really care. If he could miss something. She could, too, right? "I miss it, sometimes. The friends, the events…perhaps not the family…but the feeling of it all. Sometimes I miss it," she paused, feeling as if she should add something to it, but all she could come up with was… "But the Cabaret… it's my home now, you know? I wouldn't trade it…"

[Nicholas Foster]

"I miss it, sometimes. The friends, the events…perhaps not the family…but the feeling of it all. Sometimes I miss it."

As he listened to Charlotte’s words, Nicholas found himself nodding in sympathy. He missed his friends. He missed ‘the feeling of it all’. Night and Day were two different worlds. During the day, people did mundane things -- they ran errands, went on picnics, picked their children up from school. They even laughed differently. At night, everything was secret and dangerous. Lovers met, criminals plied their trade, lost souls roamed empty streets. Nicholas appreciated the night’s beauty. But sometimes, he missed the simple pleasures which lay beneath the sun.

Moved by the sadness he heard in her voice, Nicholas experienced an urge to reach out and give Charlotte’s hand a reassuring squeeze. But so many men saw her only as an object to be grabbed, groped, or fondled. Nicholas didn’t want to be like them. He didn’t want to treat her body like a piece of public property. And besides, what comfort could his touch possibly provide? When it could only be coldness against her skin? So he held back.

"But the Cabaret… it's my home now, you know? I wouldn't trade it…"

Charlotte’s revelation surprised Nicholas. He was glad that she considered the cabaret to be home, that she didn’t regret the trade she’d made. But his own feelings were of a much more ambivalent nature. The cabaret served as a useful refuge -- it gave his life purpose, and he even felt a certain amount of loyalty toward its denizens. But trade it? For the ability to feel sunlight against his skin? For a chance to lead an existence which wasn’t fueled by stolen blood? Oh yes. In an instant.

Curious, Nicholas scribbled another question on his notepad. He understood how Charlotte could like many things about the cabaret. The singing, the dancing, the laughter...even if that laughter sometimes sounded a little shrill and forced. But one aspect of her role still remained hard for him to comprehend.

How do you stand it? Letting those men touch you?

Nicholas hoped that Charlotte wouldn’t be offended by the question. She took men to bed, he took lives each time he fed -- they both did what was required for survival. And, when the time came, they would both be judged for it. But that was a job best left in the hands of higher powers. Nicholas felt no desire to judge. He just wanted to understand. If Charlotte had discovered some way to endure the unendurable without going dead inside, he wanted to know what it was.