Masquerade, 1/1
Title: Masquerade
Author: pinkdoom
Rating: NC-17
Book/TV verse: TV verse
Warnings: Public sex; the usual language and smut; corporeal Bob, no explanations; short, dirty, and to the point; unbeta'd
Word count: 2,477
Disclaimer: Not mine, so very not mine.
Summary: Bob and Harry attend a party...and then the fun begins.
Author's Note: For moonchildetoo, or whiteshellwoman on GreatestJournal, this is a response to the prompt she gave me in response to my prompt. It's complete and utter silly, campy fun that has no real plot or purpose...enjoy at the risk of your own amusement ;) Not meant to be stellar writing or deeply moving...she wanted public sex, with Harry initiating as the prompt, and that's what she got! *grins*
I watched him from across the room.
I watched him smoothly integrate himself into a conversation with "important people", and they received him warmly. I watched him speak with an effortless grace, one pale hand gesturing in an arc as he made a particular point, a sly smile on his lips. Everyone around him laughed--genuine laughter, not that fake aristocratic "oh my god, get away from me you creep" kind of laugh.
I watched him, and he noticed me watching him. Our eyes met and he gave me a slow, almost imperceptible nod, and that was all I needed.
My gaze wandered the room as I sought out a familiar face...I landed on Kirmani but dashed all thought of trying to converse with that guy. I spotted Murphy making her way toward me, oddly, beautifully coiffed. She was dressed like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany's...but with a gun.
Bob and I had both been shocked when Murphy had handed us an invitation to the Chief's annual Halloween bash. It was one of the biggest parties in town, and only an invitation and a good costume would get you in the door. But then again...he owed us, and hopefully not just little favors like this. Bob and I had saved his only son from doing something very stupid--demon worship--and had managed to keep it quiet. For that, the Chief was thankful. He might not have completely believed the story we told him--and we may not have told him everything, but there was a balance between us that ensured, at the very least, the Chief being more willing to give Murphy permission to use us as consultants on a regular basis.
I caught sight of Bob trying to elegantly dislodge himself from the crowd around him, but if the rapt expressions on the faces of everyone in that steadily growing circle were any proof, they were all completely engaged by Bob, his manner of speaking coupled with that rich baritone voice, and his subtle wittiness that I found so incredibly attractive.
Needless to say, the minute we could find time to slip away, my hands were going to be down his pants, and he'd better damn well reciprocate.
Murphy linked her arm in mine and smiled at me. "You look like you could use another glass of champagne, Harry."
I grumbled under my breath as she steered us toward a table laden with enough liquor to appease every student on the campus of a major university. "What was that, Harry?"
"Nothing." I looked down at her and really noticed her costume for the first time, all the little details she'd put into it, right down to the jewelry, the hair piled on top of her head, and her perfume. Very nostalgic, very un-Murphy. "Nice costume, what's up?"
She snagged two champagne flues, handed me one, and shrugged. "I love Halloween. What's wrong with me expressing a little creativity?"
"It's wrong when you look so..." and I gestured at her black cocktail dress absently, "...womanly."
Murphy cocked a hip at me and I laughed. "Hey, I was once a girly-girl."
"What happened?"
She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I got some sense knocked into me."
I blinked at her a few times, not sure how to take that, and just when I opened my mouth to respond, another arm linked into mine. This one was different, stronger...and I could smell him before he pressed into me ever-so-gently. "Good evening, my lord."
Bob chuckled at that and took my untouched champagne from me, drinking a small amount before setting it down. "Good evening, Mr. Dresden."
Murphy looked back and forth between us for a few moments before bursting into laughter. "Seriously, get a room you two." She gave Bob the once-over, her eyes appreciative of his impressive disguise. "The suit looks good on you, Bob."
Bob adjusted his tie and tipped his hat at her. "Many thanks, milady." He transferred his cane from one hand to the other and reached out to take her hand, bringing it to within a millimeter of his lips. "And if I may...you look absolutely ravishing, Lieutenant Murphy. Just stunning."
She grinned at him. "At least one of you knows how to compliment a woman."
I glared at her, pouting just enough to let her know I was playing. "He's the smooth one, sure, but who gets his ass kicked all the time? Me. And what about my costume?"
Bob adjusted my lapel and smiled warmly. "My dear, we both know you're not exactly the most coordinated of people."
Murphy chuckled at that, but did say, "Never thought I'd see you in a tux, Harry...er, sorry. Is it still Harry Dresden, or just Dresden?" She winked at me and I cocked an eyebrow at her, making her laugh harder.
I let them have their little ha-ha's at my expense, but I couldn't help but reach over and run my fingers over Bob's. Those fingers were curled around the hook of the polished cane that was part of his businessman-slash-sex-fiend-slash-pimp, I run the world, bitch, but I certainly don't have a lame-ass comb over like Trump costume. He looked like he'd stepped out of a men's fashion display, but managed to carry this slightly dangerous, extremely sexy air about him. Imagine that. And to top off his dove gray suit, black gloves, and cane was the black velvet top hat he wore. The suit was so well tailored that my hand couldn't help but slip down from the small of his back to his ass. It was a brief pass, nothing more than maybe an "Ooops!" moment, but I knew Bob had felt it by the way his eyes instantly darkened.
Murphy saw me shifting from foot to foot and flashed Bob a killer smile. "Have fun," and walked off.
Bob turned to me, unasked questions in his expression. "And just what was that all about?"
I grinned at him. "Just follow me." And I walked around the edge of the crowd, Bob close behind.
The Chief's Halloween bash was always held in a giant reception hall in downtown Chicago, where traces of the influences of Capone and other such people still linger. The reception hall was in a hotel, and it was nearing midnight. Murphy had told me what always happens at midnight on Halloween at the Chief's party, even while important people were still there. Apparently, this was the most anticipated part of the party...and I was counting on that fact, and my ability to convince Bob into something he'd once told me he would only do under very particular circumstances.
Midnight struck just as I ducked into a corner behind the stairs that lead to the second-story balcony, nearly totally hidden from view of anyone else. Bob stalled just outside the hideaway, looking at me with an odd expression on his face. "What's this all about, Harry?"
On the twelfth stroke of midnight, the lights went out, and the strobe lights, dimmed, colored spotlights, and heavy music came on. We were plunged into darkness in our little corner, and I used that and the element of surprise to drag Bob, by his cane, in beside me on the suede booth. I gripped his hair with both hands and kissed him hard. He made a muffled sound and tried to rip himself away long enough to ask what the hell was going on, but my hand over the crotch of his pants shut him up quickly.
"Let go of the cane, Bob," I growled against his mouth. The clatter of wood on marble flooring hit my ears and I smiled. "Good boy."
The kiss quickly morphed into me undoing the buttons on his jacket while he tried to slap my hands away. "Harry, what if someone sees?"
I leaned my head back and licked my lips. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and we weren't completely without light, not the way the strobes and spotlights were circling around, so I was able to watch his face as I scraped my nails over his clothed chest and said softly, "I want you. Now."
Bob gawked at me for a moment...seems odd that such an elegant man could gawk, but gawk he did, wide eyes and all. "Don't you think we should just go home? I'll let you do whatever you want, but just at home."
I shook my head and drug him to me by the lapels of his jacket. "Now, Bob. Now, right here, with 300 people milling about, drinking and dancing and having good times of their own. No one's gonna see us...no one even really knows about this corner except us and Murphy."
"Murphy?" His voice raised just a bit. "She helped you with this?"
I flashed him a smile. "She may have told me a few things, yeah."
He sighed and said, "Right now, Harry? Honestly, couldn't it wait-"
Bob's words were cut off when I arched and rubbed against him. I saw him freeze, close his eyes, and watched with a ridiculous amount of glee when I could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. "Now, Bob."
He growled my name, the sound ringing my eardrums, and reached down to cup my ass. I followed the direction his hands were taking me, and we brushed against each other again, the contact making my cock ache. I could feel the heat of his body even through all those clothes, and as sexy as the top hat was, it had to go. I whipped it off his head and tossed it somewhere in the vicinity of his cane. "Need you, Bob. Right now."
Bob groaned and bent over me as I slid downward, trying to match up our bodies. His lips claimed mine in a fierce kiss, all tongues and lips and hands everywhere. He managed to get my jacket undone and I helped him undo the buttons on my starched, white shirt.
And then he ran those velvet-covered hands over my chest. I moaned so loudly that we both froze and looked around us before confident in the fact that the frenzy was just starting....and that no one was paying any attention to us. Bob snickered at me, and I grabbed at him, desperate for his touch. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast and with all your clothes on, Bob."
"Dammit, Harry!" Bob said, half-laughing, half-aroused. "You always manage to talk me into...something. You're a bad influence on me."
I ran my hands through his hair and said, "All part of the job, lover." And I flipped the clasp on his pants and drew down his zipper. "You mind returning the favor?"
"With pleasure," he purred. My pants hit the floor just as I registered cool air over my skin, and he gripped my cock in that fist of velvet, his strokes even, if a bit rough.
"Bob, Bob, Bob," I panted over and over again, already headed straight down that path of mindlessness that only lust brings about. He brought me so close I could taste sensation on my tongue, and then he abruptly let go. "Better finish the job," I snapped at him.
"Heavens forefend if I don't," he retorted smartly, smacking me on my ass to show just who was now running this little porno. I briefly--and only very briefly--wondered what to do about lubricant, but Bob flipped me over and drew me up on all fours, and I kinda forgot.
I then lost complete train of thought when his tongue ran over one cheek and then the other, his hands gripping my hips. My eyes rolled back in my head and I knew what was coming, but that touch of his tongue around my entrance made me gasp, then groan. Then spew every curse word I knew, even in a few foreign languages, because that tongue opened me up and dove in. I thrust back, wanting more...more, more, more.
"Fuck, Bob...ah, god, right there...please."
One hand crept around me to grab my cock roughly and he started to slide that big, velvet-covered hand up and down while his tongue penetrated me. Dual sensation overload was a hell of a ride, but I had a tendency to shoot first and shoot early, so I spit out, "Better fuck me now, Bob, while you still have the chance."
He growled back at me in response, and his tongue was replaced with the blunt head of his cock. A slow, steady slide in, and then he was completely buried. I held onto what little support the booth gave me as he slid almost all the way out and then slammed back in, my name a chant under his breath as he repeated that action a few more times. On the last stroke he hit my prostate, and I saw colors a hippie on acid at Woodstock would have had trouble describing, even with Bob Dylan supplying the lyrics.
Not that I know what Woodstock was like or anything.
Anyone walking by our little love corner would have probably heard something going on, some thumping and maybe some human voices...but I doubt they heard this:
"Fuck, Bob, please...please!"
"Gods, Harry, so tight, so hot, you little cock-tease."
...a strained chuckle and then: "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Bob."
"I'm sure you do, you whore. I'm absolutely certain...certain you love this, knowing we could get caught..."
...both of us laughing...
...a groan...another groan, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, some panting...
"Ah..fuck me just like that, Bob. Right...fuckin' right there, you bastard."
"Harry, darling, my love..."
"Bob, mother of god..."
And then both of us moaning as we found release, groaning and cursing and sweating, our limbs shaking, our lungs fighting for air as we tripped over an abyss.
Some moments passed before he pulled out and let me drag my pants back on before collapsing on me, his sweaty forehead sticking to mine. "Why haven't we done that before, Harry?"
I hugged him to me, not caring about the mess we'd made or the fact that we were both certainly a disheveled heap. "I tried! You always chickened out on me!"
He punched me lightly when I made some clucking sounds, then brushed a kiss over my lips. "So I'm wondering...should we tell Lieutenant Murphy about the champagne?"
I gave a short laugh. "I'm sure she'll find out soon enough, seeing as how even from here I can see her dancing like a fiend. Scare-ey."
"Then I suppose telling her about the temporary amnesia spell the Chief has put over the crowd when the lights go out wouldn't be very helpful, either?"
"Nah, it'd just ruin the fun. I mean...look at them. Important city officials, a few celebrities, lots of police officers...and no one will remember anything they did from five minutes after the lights went out, just that the lights went out, and then...ooo, look, pretty colors, lotsa booze, possibly some wild sex. No wonder the Chief's such a popular guy."
Bob climbed off of me and helped me to my feet. "I think maybe we should get Lieutenant Murphy a taxi, don't you?"
I nodded and started to follow Bob as he made his way to Murphy. "Let's not tell her about the spell, though, on both the champagne and on the crowd."
"I believe that's wise, Harry, seeing as how it's fortunate that she even remembered that the lights do go out every year." He took my hand and smiled. "And I really don't think we ought to tell her that we'll have to persuade the Chief to stop bespelling his partygoers."
I made a disgusted face. "Tomorrow, though. Right now I just want to go home." I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him to me for a kiss. "Hell of a party.”
Author: pinkdoom
Rating: NC-17
Book/TV verse: TV verse
Warnings: Public sex; the usual language and smut; corporeal Bob, no explanations; short, dirty, and to the point; unbeta'd
Word count: 2,477
Disclaimer: Not mine, so very not mine.
Summary: Bob and Harry attend a party...and then the fun begins.
Author's Note: For moonchildetoo, or whiteshellwoman on GreatestJournal, this is a response to the prompt she gave me in response to my prompt. It's complete and utter silly, campy fun that has no real plot or purpose...enjoy at the risk of your own amusement ;) Not meant to be stellar writing or deeply moving...she wanted public sex, with Harry initiating as the prompt, and that's what she got! *grins*
I watched him from across the room.
I watched him smoothly integrate himself into a conversation with "important people", and they received him warmly. I watched him speak with an effortless grace, one pale hand gesturing in an arc as he made a particular point, a sly smile on his lips. Everyone around him laughed--genuine laughter, not that fake aristocratic "oh my god, get away from me you creep" kind of laugh.
I watched him, and he noticed me watching him. Our eyes met and he gave me a slow, almost imperceptible nod, and that was all I needed.
My gaze wandered the room as I sought out a familiar face...I landed on Kirmani but dashed all thought of trying to converse with that guy. I spotted Murphy making her way toward me, oddly, beautifully coiffed. She was dressed like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany's...but with a gun.
Bob and I had both been shocked when Murphy had handed us an invitation to the Chief's annual Halloween bash. It was one of the biggest parties in town, and only an invitation and a good costume would get you in the door. But then again...he owed us, and hopefully not just little favors like this. Bob and I had saved his only son from doing something very stupid--demon worship--and had managed to keep it quiet. For that, the Chief was thankful. He might not have completely believed the story we told him--and we may not have told him everything, but there was a balance between us that ensured, at the very least, the Chief being more willing to give Murphy permission to use us as consultants on a regular basis.
I caught sight of Bob trying to elegantly dislodge himself from the crowd around him, but if the rapt expressions on the faces of everyone in that steadily growing circle were any proof, they were all completely engaged by Bob, his manner of speaking coupled with that rich baritone voice, and his subtle wittiness that I found so incredibly attractive.
Needless to say, the minute we could find time to slip away, my hands were going to be down his pants, and he'd better damn well reciprocate.
Murphy linked her arm in mine and smiled at me. "You look like you could use another glass of champagne, Harry."
I grumbled under my breath as she steered us toward a table laden with enough liquor to appease every student on the campus of a major university. "What was that, Harry?"
"Nothing." I looked down at her and really noticed her costume for the first time, all the little details she'd put into it, right down to the jewelry, the hair piled on top of her head, and her perfume. Very nostalgic, very un-Murphy. "Nice costume, what's up?"
She snagged two champagne flues, handed me one, and shrugged. "I love Halloween. What's wrong with me expressing a little creativity?"
"It's wrong when you look so..." and I gestured at her black cocktail dress absently, "...womanly."
Murphy cocked a hip at me and I laughed. "Hey, I was once a girly-girl."
"What happened?"
She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I got some sense knocked into me."
I blinked at her a few times, not sure how to take that, and just when I opened my mouth to respond, another arm linked into mine. This one was different, stronger...and I could smell him before he pressed into me ever-so-gently. "Good evening, my lord."
Bob chuckled at that and took my untouched champagne from me, drinking a small amount before setting it down. "Good evening, Mr. Dresden."
Murphy looked back and forth between us for a few moments before bursting into laughter. "Seriously, get a room you two." She gave Bob the once-over, her eyes appreciative of his impressive disguise. "The suit looks good on you, Bob."
Bob adjusted his tie and tipped his hat at her. "Many thanks, milady." He transferred his cane from one hand to the other and reached out to take her hand, bringing it to within a millimeter of his lips. "And if I may...you look absolutely ravishing, Lieutenant Murphy. Just stunning."
She grinned at him. "At least one of you knows how to compliment a woman."
I glared at her, pouting just enough to let her know I was playing. "He's the smooth one, sure, but who gets his ass kicked all the time? Me. And what about my costume?"
Bob adjusted my lapel and smiled warmly. "My dear, we both know you're not exactly the most coordinated of people."
Murphy chuckled at that, but did say, "Never thought I'd see you in a tux, Harry...er, sorry. Is it still Harry Dresden, or just Dresden?" She winked at me and I cocked an eyebrow at her, making her laugh harder.
I let them have their little ha-ha's at my expense, but I couldn't help but reach over and run my fingers over Bob's. Those fingers were curled around the hook of the polished cane that was part of his businessman-slash-sex-fiend-slash-pimp, I run the world, bitch, but I certainly don't have a lame-ass comb over like Trump costume. He looked like he'd stepped out of a men's fashion display, but managed to carry this slightly dangerous, extremely sexy air about him. Imagine that. And to top off his dove gray suit, black gloves, and cane was the black velvet top hat he wore. The suit was so well tailored that my hand couldn't help but slip down from the small of his back to his ass. It was a brief pass, nothing more than maybe an "Ooops!" moment, but I knew Bob had felt it by the way his eyes instantly darkened.
Murphy saw me shifting from foot to foot and flashed Bob a killer smile. "Have fun," and walked off.
Bob turned to me, unasked questions in his expression. "And just what was that all about?"
I grinned at him. "Just follow me." And I walked around the edge of the crowd, Bob close behind.
The Chief's Halloween bash was always held in a giant reception hall in downtown Chicago, where traces of the influences of Capone and other such people still linger. The reception hall was in a hotel, and it was nearing midnight. Murphy had told me what always happens at midnight on Halloween at the Chief's party, even while important people were still there. Apparently, this was the most anticipated part of the party...and I was counting on that fact, and my ability to convince Bob into something he'd once told me he would only do under very particular circumstances.
Midnight struck just as I ducked into a corner behind the stairs that lead to the second-story balcony, nearly totally hidden from view of anyone else. Bob stalled just outside the hideaway, looking at me with an odd expression on his face. "What's this all about, Harry?"
On the twelfth stroke of midnight, the lights went out, and the strobe lights, dimmed, colored spotlights, and heavy music came on. We were plunged into darkness in our little corner, and I used that and the element of surprise to drag Bob, by his cane, in beside me on the suede booth. I gripped his hair with both hands and kissed him hard. He made a muffled sound and tried to rip himself away long enough to ask what the hell was going on, but my hand over the crotch of his pants shut him up quickly.
"Let go of the cane, Bob," I growled against his mouth. The clatter of wood on marble flooring hit my ears and I smiled. "Good boy."
The kiss quickly morphed into me undoing the buttons on his jacket while he tried to slap my hands away. "Harry, what if someone sees?"
I leaned my head back and licked my lips. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and we weren't completely without light, not the way the strobes and spotlights were circling around, so I was able to watch his face as I scraped my nails over his clothed chest and said softly, "I want you. Now."
Bob gawked at me for a moment...seems odd that such an elegant man could gawk, but gawk he did, wide eyes and all. "Don't you think we should just go home? I'll let you do whatever you want, but just at home."
I shook my head and drug him to me by the lapels of his jacket. "Now, Bob. Now, right here, with 300 people milling about, drinking and dancing and having good times of their own. No one's gonna see us...no one even really knows about this corner except us and Murphy."
"Murphy?" His voice raised just a bit. "She helped you with this?"
I flashed him a smile. "She may have told me a few things, yeah."
He sighed and said, "Right now, Harry? Honestly, couldn't it wait-"
Bob's words were cut off when I arched and rubbed against him. I saw him freeze, close his eyes, and watched with a ridiculous amount of glee when I could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. "Now, Bob."
He growled my name, the sound ringing my eardrums, and reached down to cup my ass. I followed the direction his hands were taking me, and we brushed against each other again, the contact making my cock ache. I could feel the heat of his body even through all those clothes, and as sexy as the top hat was, it had to go. I whipped it off his head and tossed it somewhere in the vicinity of his cane. "Need you, Bob. Right now."
Bob groaned and bent over me as I slid downward, trying to match up our bodies. His lips claimed mine in a fierce kiss, all tongues and lips and hands everywhere. He managed to get my jacket undone and I helped him undo the buttons on my starched, white shirt.
And then he ran those velvet-covered hands over my chest. I moaned so loudly that we both froze and looked around us before confident in the fact that the frenzy was just starting....and that no one was paying any attention to us. Bob snickered at me, and I grabbed at him, desperate for his touch. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast and with all your clothes on, Bob."
"Dammit, Harry!" Bob said, half-laughing, half-aroused. "You always manage to talk me into...something. You're a bad influence on me."
I ran my hands through his hair and said, "All part of the job, lover." And I flipped the clasp on his pants and drew down his zipper. "You mind returning the favor?"
"With pleasure," he purred. My pants hit the floor just as I registered cool air over my skin, and he gripped my cock in that fist of velvet, his strokes even, if a bit rough.
"Bob, Bob, Bob," I panted over and over again, already headed straight down that path of mindlessness that only lust brings about. He brought me so close I could taste sensation on my tongue, and then he abruptly let go. "Better finish the job," I snapped at him.
"Heavens forefend if I don't," he retorted smartly, smacking me on my ass to show just who was now running this little porno. I briefly--and only very briefly--wondered what to do about lubricant, but Bob flipped me over and drew me up on all fours, and I kinda forgot.
I then lost complete train of thought when his tongue ran over one cheek and then the other, his hands gripping my hips. My eyes rolled back in my head and I knew what was coming, but that touch of his tongue around my entrance made me gasp, then groan. Then spew every curse word I knew, even in a few foreign languages, because that tongue opened me up and dove in. I thrust back, wanting more...more, more, more.
"Fuck, Bob...ah, god, right there...please."
One hand crept around me to grab my cock roughly and he started to slide that big, velvet-covered hand up and down while his tongue penetrated me. Dual sensation overload was a hell of a ride, but I had a tendency to shoot first and shoot early, so I spit out, "Better fuck me now, Bob, while you still have the chance."
He growled back at me in response, and his tongue was replaced with the blunt head of his cock. A slow, steady slide in, and then he was completely buried. I held onto what little support the booth gave me as he slid almost all the way out and then slammed back in, my name a chant under his breath as he repeated that action a few more times. On the last stroke he hit my prostate, and I saw colors a hippie on acid at Woodstock would have had trouble describing, even with Bob Dylan supplying the lyrics.
Not that I know what Woodstock was like or anything.
Anyone walking by our little love corner would have probably heard something going on, some thumping and maybe some human voices...but I doubt they heard this:
"Fuck, Bob, please...please!"
"Gods, Harry, so tight, so hot, you little cock-tease."
...a strained chuckle and then: "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Bob."
"I'm sure you do, you whore. I'm absolutely certain...certain you love this, knowing we could get caught..."
...both of us laughing...
...a groan...another groan, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, some panting...
"Ah..fuck me just like that, Bob. Right...fuckin' right there, you bastard."
"Harry, darling, my love..."
"Bob, mother of god..."
And then both of us moaning as we found release, groaning and cursing and sweating, our limbs shaking, our lungs fighting for air as we tripped over an abyss.
Some moments passed before he pulled out and let me drag my pants back on before collapsing on me, his sweaty forehead sticking to mine. "Why haven't we done that before, Harry?"
I hugged him to me, not caring about the mess we'd made or the fact that we were both certainly a disheveled heap. "I tried! You always chickened out on me!"
He punched me lightly when I made some clucking sounds, then brushed a kiss over my lips. "So I'm wondering...should we tell Lieutenant Murphy about the champagne?"
I gave a short laugh. "I'm sure she'll find out soon enough, seeing as how even from here I can see her dancing like a fiend. Scare-ey."
"Then I suppose telling her about the temporary amnesia spell the Chief has put over the crowd when the lights go out wouldn't be very helpful, either?"
"Nah, it'd just ruin the fun. I mean...look at them. Important city officials, a few celebrities, lots of police officers...and no one will remember anything they did from five minutes after the lights went out, just that the lights went out, and then...ooo, look, pretty colors, lotsa booze, possibly some wild sex. No wonder the Chief's such a popular guy."
Bob climbed off of me and helped me to my feet. "I think maybe we should get Lieutenant Murphy a taxi, don't you?"
I nodded and started to follow Bob as he made his way to Murphy. "Let's not tell her about the spell, though, on both the champagne and on the crowd."
"I believe that's wise, Harry, seeing as how it's fortunate that she even remembered that the lights do go out every year." He took my hand and smiled. "And I really don't think we ought to tell her that we'll have to persuade the Chief to stop bespelling his partygoers."
I made a disgusted face. "Tomorrow, though. Right now I just want to go home." I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him to me for a kiss. "Hell of a party.”