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Winter's Dance	By : Meghan Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 3008 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Asher sighed deeply from his chair behind a paper filled desk in the Laughing Corpse. Life or unlife, if you would have it that way, was feeling more than a little burdensome tonight. Not much was going on besides the obvious tedium involved with paperwork.

Picking up an invoice, Asher sighed resignedly and read it quietly to himself. Bursts of laughter echoed into the room from downstairs where a standup comedian was performing tonight. Apparently he was very good, considering the crowd’s chuckles were getting louder. He knew Jean-Claude was doing the same in Danse Macabre, but the thought didn’t console him. In fact, it only made him feel more in the doldrums than he had before.

Invoice after invoice, Asher slowly plodded through them all; and on it went into the night. There was a brief period of time when the muffled voices and murmurs stopped in between shows, but all it succeeded in doing was impress upon Asher the long hours he’d already committed to the task and the long hours that were ahead of him until he completed it.

So lost in his own morose thoughts that he didn’t notice somebody approaching in the hallway until the light rap on the door jerked him back to the present. Sitting up straighter, Asher quickly shuffled the papers into untidy stacks. The light knocking came again, just as Asher was stuffing his shirttails back into his pants in an effort to look presentable.

“Come in, ma chérie,” Asher called out after checking to make sure his hair wasn’t a mess of fuzzy tendrils that haloed around his head and that it was in fact still pulled back in the tight French braid he had started the evening with.

Anita poked her head through the door and smiled brightly before opening the door further and slipping into the room. Leaning back against the wall, Anita gave him a once, twice, over and grinned predatorily.

“You look good enough to eat,” she said, coming away from the wall.

Asher smirked, and took his time looking her over as she had done to him not moments ago. She was wearing a long sleeve black turtle neck, with a bright red open vest on top, which served to hide her Browning in it’s black leather holster, over snug fitting blue jeans. Her long curly hair hung loose around her head, framing her beautiful pale face. His gaze zeroed in on her cherry red lips, which parted under his intensive stare.

“Toi aussi,” he returned, suddenly glad that Jean-Claude had decided to take the dance club and leave him to look over the comedy club’s books, invoices, and potential acts.

The long hours he’d spent cooped up in the room didn’t seem so long now in retrospect and the hours ahead of him seemed much more interesting and far too short. His heart started hammering wildly in his chest, as the stolen blood finally focused in his body flushing his skin and making him warm to the touch. Anita always affected him like that, but most of the time Jean-Claude was around and she would go towards him.

“Feel like accompanying me to a movie tonight, Asher?” Anita asked when he was done checking her over. As Asher opened his mouth to respond in a very enthusiastic positive manner, Anita cut in, her face looking uncertain. “Unless of course, you need to be working.”

Asher looked behind him at the untidy stacks of paper that had caught her attention before decidedly turning away and holding out his arm in a gallant manner. “The rest of my evening is yours, ma chérie, work can and will wait until another night.”

“Great, let’s get going, the movie starts in about fifteen minutes and the cab is idling outside by the curb. Do you have a coat? It’s quite chilly outside.”

“Oui, chérie, it is in the closet. Why are we not taking your vehicle?”

Anita answered softly as she waited for him, “Micah is using it tonight to help the leopards learn how to drive. I was told not to be there after scaring the hell out of Gregory. In my defense he almost ran head long into another car, but apparently Micah thinks my yelling was not helping the situation.”

He laughed heartily at her, needing to lean back against the desk for support.

Almost poutily she replied, “Nathaniel learned just fine when I taught him.”

That just made Asher laugh harder and to quell it he stood and walked over to the small closet and twisted the shiny gold-looking knob, opening the door, where he then pulled out a dark gray wool coat from its hanger. With a practiced shrug, he slipped it on over his shoulders and straightened out the collar.

“That is because Nathaniel learns well from dominance,” Asher stated, bemusedly, turning back towards Anita and offering up his arm again which she took.

“Merci, mon chéri,” Anita said softly against his neck, ignoring his last comment, her warm breath thrilling him.

The evening was definitely looking up, Asher thought, delighted with the turn of events and the pet name. As they swept downstairs, Anita paused in the lobby as Willie McCoy handed to her a dark red heavy winter coat, which she tied quickly before grabbing his hand and whisking him outside.

It was so cold outside, Asher thought that he might get frostbite, even though he was a vampire and getting frostbite was impossible. As they crossed the wide sidewalk to the cab waiting patiently by the curb, Asher pulled in his heat not wanting to waste a second of it this evening. Just like that his body grew cold and was nearly a perfect match for the current temperature.

Anita hurried as fast as she could into the cab, her nose turning bright red against her pale face as she breathed in the wretchedly cold air. He bent over and slid in next to her and shut the cab door behind him. The interior smelled smoky and the seat coverings were cracked with bits of yellow foam sticking out. Asher grimaced at the sight, wishing for the luxurious comforts of Jean-Claude’s limousine.

“Where to?” ask the old cabby driver, looking up at them in the rearview mirror, his expression the crabbiest he’d seen since Belle Morte’s anger over the knowledge that Jean-Claude and himself left her for another woman.

“AMC Esquire theaters, off of Clayton Road,” Anita clipped out, settling herself into the seat and pulling the seatbelt over her shoulder and clicked it into the buckle as the man took off down the street.

At her glare, Asher smiled and copied her actions, saying, “You are very cute when you scowl so, ma chérie.”

“I’m so glad you’re amused about your safety,” Anita replied in a huff, turning to stare out her window.

“Chérie, your concern warms mon coeur,” Asher said earnestly, reaching across the seat to take her hand in his.

She turned her head to look at him, and seeing the sincerity within his eyes, relaxed the tense muscles in her shoulders as she turned to face him fully. Asher grinned, flashing a little fang her way, as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“I thought only newbies flashed their fangs,” she mused, staring transfixed at his mouth. “Or is it a French thing?”

He shook his head, his braid wrapping around his neck loosely from the movement. Asher watched as Anita raised her hand to caress the thick braid between her fingers.

“Older vampires flash fangs to get a reaction. Sometimes they try for fear, or humor, or well it really all depends on the motive I guess. Jean-Claude flashes fangs at you in an attempt to be cute.”

Anita snorted. “The only time Jean-Claude can be cute is when he’s feeding through me and the marks.”

Asher thought about it for a second, recalling the last time he’d seen Jean-Claude feed in such a way. It’d been three weeks ago when the three of them went out to eat at an upscale restaurant. Anita had had less sway over dinner choices because he’d been there and had back up Jean-Claude’s wants. In the end, to say the least, Jean-Claude has been practically purring and moaning with every bite that Anita had taken. He remember laughing softly at his friend while egging Anita on to eat faster just to see the glare given to him by a pair of midnight blue eyes.

“It is true that he is undeniably cute when you eat for him, but there are other times too, for instance he’s adorable when trying to get dressed up for you or just how frantic he gets when you’re angry with him.”

Anita raised her eyebrows at him. “Jean-Claude, frantic?”

“Oui,” he said, raising a hand to trace the edge of his face, forgetting that he’d tied his hair back and couldn’t run his fingers through it.

“That’s not something I would have ever said about him.”

“He tries not to show you just how desperately he cares about your opinion of him.”

He watched her frown at his words and grabbed her hand, loosely entwining their fingers together.

“He is afraid to scare you off, I would think, though I am not certain about it. Believe me though, ma chérie, that he does love you; with all that he is in fact. I love you as well, chérie and would do anything to see you smile at me the way I’ve seen you smile at Jean-Claude.”

“Asher--”

“Non, Anita, no need to soothe my feelings. I know you love me and that you watch me when you think I’m not looking. It has done wonders for my heart, but in the end it is not the same as with him and really I know it should not be the same, but it doesn’t keep me from wishing that it were so.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Anita whispered, her dark brown eyes emotion filled.

He laughed then, trying to keep the sorrow from it when he did. “Forget my words, ma chérie, and let us try to enjoy the evening my little speech has almost ruined.”

When she didn’t respond, Asher hastily filled in the silence that settled between them like a heavy blanket. “What movie shall we be seeing?”

Anita answered him, but as it turned out it didn’t matter what movie Anita had planned for them to see, because by the time they got to the theaters the movie had sold out. Naturally upset by the circumstances, Anita argued until she was red faced with the teenager in the ticket booth. Asher watched in amusement for a moment before taking her hand and dragging her away from the poor kid.

“There are other things we can do tonight, ma chérie,” Asher said softly in her ear. “Like dancing.”

“I don’t dance,” Anita said bluntly and shot another glare at the kid behind her.

“Then let me teach you,” Asher whispered, tugging her into his embrace and kissing the breath out of her.

Anita opened her eyes as if drugged and stared into his darkening husky blue eyes. Her lips were puffy from his kiss and she licked them tentatively. Her nose was red from the cold and her cheeks reddened from the wind. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Let me teach you,” Asher urged gently.

“Okay,” Anita said hesitantly.

He grinned and offered her his arm gallantly. He dropped it after a glare from her and laughed. “Ah, yes, sorry, I forgot your peculiar preferences, ma chérie.”

“I’ve been able to break Jean-Claude of his habits, I can certainly break you of yours.”

“I look forward to it,” he said, giving her a meaningful look.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He flashed her a wolfish grin and waved down the street. “There is a park not to far from here, where I know blues musicians play for passersby. Come, follow me, ma chérie.”

“This is not a good idea,” Anita murmured to herself, but followed him anyway. “I hate dancing and making a spectacle of myself.”

“What a lovely spectacle you will make,” Asher responded, his accent thick and smooth washing over her body like Jean-Claude’s voice could do and she shivered.

“I’m going to regret this.”
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Winter's Dance