[dated October 27]

[poison_lipstick]

It wasn't unusual for Saffron to be found at the club in the afternoons, either getting caught up on paperwork or practicing her routine. Today, though, she was there for an audition, one she found kind of amusing. His reputation preceded him - even in the 26th century, folks still knew about the Greek gods - so Saffron figured he'd have moves. She

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[winged_cupid]

Cupid's been dancing around this (so to speak) for a couple of weeks and maybe it's the lingering echo of his mother's voice telling him why he shouldn't do this, but it's right up his alley. Honestly, what part of Greece doesn't have a hot god doing a little twist here and there and making people's private parts do their own tango? Plus, he's hot. He's way hot, and why should he deprive the mortals of that?

Cupid arrives without bow and arrows and without the tights, only wearing the leather skirt and a broad grin on his face. "Would you be the gorgeous woman in charge?" he asks with a tone that implies he's winking every step of the way.

[poison_lipstick]

Saffron looked up with a brilliant smile, which only broadened when she saw the incredibly gorgeous and muscular blond in her doorway. "I would," she replied, standing and walking over to meet him. "I'm Helen. And you must be Cupid." She would have thought the wings would be silly-looking, but seeing him now, Saffron could tell that wasn't the case at all.

[winged_cupid]

"The god himself," he concurs with a smooth nod and a bow, approaching and taking her palm into his hand to press a kiss there. "Helen," he greets her. "I knew a Helen once. I'm sure that you could cause just as much trouble as she could."

[poison_lipstick]

And a gentleman to boot, which was nice, though Saffron wasn't particularly surprised. "The Helen whose face launched a thousand ships?" she asked. "I'm from far, far beyond her time, but I've heard a little bit about her. So, I hear you're interested in auditioning for me?"

[winged_cupid]

"Well, she's a great gal," Cupid opines and not just because they'd sat down and had a little chit-chat about the affairs of love and how idiotic some men could be (all the while Cupid swearing his arrow had nothing to do with Paris, nothing at all). "And I am," he concurs. "Where do you want me?"

[poison_lipstick]

"That's a loaded question," Saffron replied with a smirk. "For now, though, let's go upstairs. I'll put on some music and you can show me your moves on stage."

[winged_cupid]

Cupid shifts and wishes that the wings were moving with him. "I have to warn you, you should keep out of the wings' way," he warns. "Ever since I got here, they're like persona totally non grata," he complains. "I used to be able to do the best little twitches and little moves," he boasts.

[poison_lipstick]

She led the way up the stairs to the strip club. "I'll keep that in mind," Saffron replied, amusement in her voice. "All right, go ahead and take the stage and I'll put something on. Do you have a preference on the type of music?"

[winged_cupid]

"All the music from my time you'd know is lutes and harmonies and muses singing," Cupid admits and he's not knocking the gals because they've got lovely pipes on them. He's just not exactly up on modern fare. "You got any suggestions?" he asks as he easily gets on stage, stretching his back and letting the wings mimic movement, even if they're unmoving.

[poison_lipstick]

Saffron thought about it for a minute, then nodded decisively and headed over to Bill's iPod and speakers. "I've got just the thing," she said, and started up Foreigner's Feels Like the First Time. "Whenever you're ready, handsome."

[winged_cupid]

Cupid can't help a wink at the beautiful woman, shaking his behind slightly as he gets ready for his big debut. "You ready for this?" he teases with a broad grin, sliding up onto the stage and letting his wings face Helen, starting off with a good slow rhythm.

God, Mom would be so pissed with him.

...mostly because she's not coaching him from the sidelines, but probably that he's not stripping for a muse or one of the cousins.

[poison_lipstick]

"You bet, big boy," Saffron encouraged, taking a seat at one of the front tables. Cupid had moves, that was for sure, and she didn't do anything to conceal the appreciation in her expression as she watched him dance.

[winged_cupid]

Cupid can't help his warm laugh and grin at that, wigging his hips and finding his way to the edge of the stage before gracefully descending to all fours. "Trust me, I could have done this way better if I could still fly," he guarantees, biting on his lip as he winks at her. "Psyche loves it when I do the whole hovering over her thing before the lapdance."

[poison_lipstick]

Saffron watched him work, more and more certain her female patrons, and plenty of male ones to boot, would definitely appreciate Cupid's show. "Well, that Psyche is one lucky woman, that's for sure," she replied, returning the wink.

[winged_cupid]

"I'm the lucky man," Cupid says fully sincerely as he slowly sits on the edge of the stage and makes his way across the room to Helen, sliding into a slow crouch and taking his time in ascending. "She wanted me when I never thought in a kazillion bajillion decades she could ever want a big oaf like me."

[poison_lipstick]

Cupid was definitely hired by that point, but Saffron wasn't about to cut off his routine until he was done. "I'd hardly describe you as an oaf, honey," she replied. "Not when you've got moves like those."