Devlin was beginning to realize how much he was getting used to life as a wizard. It was so much easier to simply apparate or floo to a meeting place than it was try to catch a cab on a busy evening, so much so that he had almost forgotten how to do it. After digging out his emergency money, the only muggle cash he had, he got about six blocks from his destination before the driver kicked him out. He then had to walk the remainder of the way, cursing his lack of foresight over the choice of location, and was running almost 15 minutes late. Oh and he was sweaty now... great, what a way to begin what was supposed to be a wonderful evening.

Lately, Dev had been thinking about his relationship with Maeve more and more. For a couple months now, after Fauna glued their lips together, they had been seeing each other discreetly. It was mainly because of her family, whose notoriously purist leanings made it hard for her to be with someone like him, the bastard criminal child of a werewolf raised by muggles. But there had been part of him that had seen their relationship as more of a fling then a romance, and he supposed that same part still hoped that he could mend things with Fauna. After his talk with his father, though, he started to realize that that wasn't what he wanted anymore. He certainly did want a comfortable and stable relationship, but he wanted it with...Maeve. Which brought him to this evening.

He had gathered what little money he had, calling in a few debts in the process, and rented out a rather elegant penthouse suite in a nice but not overly expensive muggle hotel, as far away as he could get from her family. It wasn't as nice as what she was undoubtedly used to, but he had done his best to make it romantic. Though, now he was more worried about her getting pissed that he was late and leaving than he was that she didn't like the hotel room. Arriving at the doors, panting and mussed, he took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, using the mirrored glass on the door to fix his hair. Strolling in, trying to look relaxed, he scanned the lobby nervously. When he saw a familiar figure, topped with sleek golden hair, he breathed a sigh of relief. Good, she was still there. Sliding up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a playful kiss on her neck, just under the ear "Hey beautiful, thanks for waiting..."

"Oh my, hello handsome..."

Something about this was wrong. Actually, everything was... She was too tall and her hair didn't smell the same (or as nice) and her voice had the texture of gravel filtered through sandpaper. It dawned on him that the woman he had his arms wrapped around in a very intimate embrace was not Maeve in any stretch of the imagination. In fact, now that he was closer, her hair was obviously bottle blond, those curves were mostly manufactured and the parts that weren't were about 20 years too old. "Oh uh... Jesus, I'm sorry... I, uh..." Dev said suddenly, pulling away as quickly as he could. The blond turned on him and Dev winced at the smirk on her ruby-red encrusted lips.

"Oh don't be sorry love, You can wrap your arms around me any time..." She purred breathlessly, which was odd because somehow he still was encased by a cloud of liquor, cigarettes and halitosis.  It got stronger as she sidled up to him and ran what could only be called a claw down his chest.

"Ah yes... well... You see..." Dev stuttered, completely losing his suave act as he looked around frantically for Maeve. Where was she when he needed her?

The ending of her school days had brought an extensive list of pressures from Maeve Whitman's family, mostly by way of her grandmother. And usually when the Whitman matriarch spoke no one defied her. Even Maevs's mother, descended from the dark Grumman line, chose not to voice an oposing opinion in the woman's presence. Perhaps Eloise Whitman had it of the mind that if her daughter wanted to object to the path her grandmother had lain out for her, she could and should us her own voice.

The truth was that Maeve did not mind being groomed to be the head of the Whitman family someday.  It was something that she had come to expect for such a long that it was hard for her to imagine her life any other way.

And yet, it was only natural that Maeve should grow tired of her life being scripted. She just hadn't anticipated growing tired so soon after it all began. As dutiful as she was to the requests of her grandmother to mingle with society's elite, Maeve recognized the part of herself that actually wanted to enjoy her youth before she was too old and miserable (like many of her family members) to know any better.

Which was why lately she often spent her free time -- what little she had that wasn't monitored -- with someone who was as far from what her family's standards as possible.

By Whitman standards, Devlin Matthews was as unpure as he was a rebellious rogue and that was precisely part of his appeal to Maeve over the years. He was everything that her family wasn't. She could let her hair down with him. She could be imperfect with him. She could be normal with him. Even in the times when they got on each other's nerves, Maeve eventually would realize how special their connection was and how important he had become in her life.

She never said anything about how she was feeling towards their relationship because she didn't want to ruin how much fun they were having. And, she still wasn't sure if what their spending time with each other was just a diversion from the ending of their previous relationships. Even so, she was content with where things were if he was. They had plenty of time to get serious about a relationship -- with each other or with someone else.

When Devlin told her that he wanted to meet that night, Maeve first assumed it was going to be another one of their low key hang outs. But he had given her the address of a muggle hotel and told her wear something nice....along with another slyly whispered request that had made her blush a little.

Meeting in a muggle location was ideal for Maeve as they wouldn't have to worry about anyone bothering them.

She was coming straight from her internship with her grandmother at the museum -- she made some excuse of meeting with a few friends from school for drinks -- and left before she could be given the third degree about it.

Upon arriving to the hotel, Maeve stepped into the bathroom to freshen up her make up and added a few accessories for a more evening look. She then stepped back into the lobby with no concept of being late.

She watched as Devlin approached some woman and embraced her in an affectionate fashion. Maeve's expression darkened as she immediately thought the worst but as she slowly approached, she overheard his apologetic tone towards the woman. The young witch could tell that he must've mistaken the woman for her.

As Devlin looked around, Maeve caught his eye and decided she should step in to claim her territory. Stepping up beside him, Maeve slipped her arm through his and sent the stranger an icy glare. "There you are, hon." She began to tug him away. "Let's go."

"I like it when boys are shy..." The harpy giggled, her other hand, the one not accosting his chest, closed around his arm and gripped it firmly enough for him to feel her nails digging into his skin though his jacket. Suddenly another hand latched onto his arm and Devlin, terrified that it was another ghoul wearing a human mask, cringed. It wasn't until he heard Maeve's voice that he was able to relax and open his eyes. He regretted it though. Maeve's expression could have made the arctic look like Cancun. This wasn't going to end well.

"Ladies...Ladies...Ladies..." Devlin said nervously, struggling to put his hands up to protect themselves lest their flying claws take his eyes out rather than each others. Giving Maeve a reassuring look, Dev turned to the other woman and slid on a smooth smile "... Please forgive my date, she is understandably upset because I mistook another woman for her..." Carefully peeling her hand off his bicep, Dev repressed his gag reflex and gave the bony knuckles a light brush of his lips before smiling up at her, "Which... She has to admit, was easy to do considering you bear a striking resemblance."

Merlin, Maeve was going to make him pay for that later. But as insulting as it was to her, it was a high compliment to the woman, who took one long look at the beautiful blond glaring back at her and sniffed a little "Well...She lacks the grace of a mature woman, but I can see how you could have been mistaken." Reaching out, she cupped Devlin's cheek with a calloused claw, her thumb brushing his bottom lip "Find me when you are ready for a real woman..." With a lingering smile, one that revealed her underlying desperation, the woman turned and sashayed away.

"Come on.... Let's get away before she comes back" Dev murmured to Maeve, pulling her towards the elevators. "I am sorry I had to do that, but I can't afford getting kicked out of here..." His reached up and rubbed a hand across his mouth in disgust "God I need a very very hot bath now. I don't think they even MAKE water hot enough."

Maeve narrowed her eyes at the older woman and resisted the urge to pull out her wand to really show her that Devlin was hers. What stopped her was the fact that several members of her family were Obliviators and she hardly needed the headache of stripping this woman's memory of a bad encounter with a real witch.

When Devlin gave her a look that was meant to assure her that he would take care of things, Maeve reluctantly stepped back and let him do it. She even bit her tongue when he tried to say that she was mad for him mistaking her for someone else. But perhaps that was the only way he thought he could sooth the older woman. And he'll probably worry about soothing me later, she inwardly mused.

Maeve's eyes widened when the old hang proceeded to say that she lacked the grace of an older woman and she almost managed to eek out a nasty retort when Devlin grabbed her and headed for the elevators.

"Ugh! The nerve of that woman," she whispered incredulously as the doors closed behind them. Her Whitman blue eyes were still blazing but they slowly began to soften as she heard Devlin mention that he needed a bath.

"Aww, poor baby," she teased, reaching out to pat his cheek. "If she hadn't touched you, I would kiss you to make it all better..."

"Aww, poor baby, If she hadn't touched you, I would kiss you to make it all better..."

Devlin balked at this, a desolate look passing over his face. "You... You mean we aren't even going to make out in the elevator?" He explained, clearly crestfallen "I got us a suite on the 10th floor for that reason alone!" Crossing his arms, he pretended to pout for a few moments, muttering something darkly, words like 'make out', 'hot girlfriend', 'ruined' and 'old bitch', popping up admist the grumble. Finally, he added in a clearer tone "Fine. But you owe me after I shower..." His pout curled into a grin and he leaned against her, adding in a much more flirtatious voice "Or... perhaps... during?"

Ding!

The doors slid open and Dev found his lascivious pillow talk cut short by, what he could assume by their accents, an American family. The rest of the short trip was spent listening to the preteen daughter moan about how her hair dryer didn't work with the British plugs and how much she now hated England on that merit alone. Devlin almost kissed the carpet of floor 10 when they finally managed to dislodge themselves from that hell. This evening was not going like Dev had planned.

The suite made things a bit better. Though he hadn't the money or the cheesiness to rent the honeymoon suite, he had still managed to procure a nice double bed suite with a whirlpool tub and a rather pleasant view of downtown London. A hot shower and some champagne later, and she probably wouldn't care if it wasn't the most expensive room in the house. He certainly didn't, but then, it was a hundred times better then both his former and current abode. Breathing in the fresh scent of the room with satisfaction, Devlin pulled of his shirt and tossed it on the bed before leaning against the door to the bathroom. "Bath? or Shower... Your pick." He smirked.

Maeve smiled demurely at his lude suggestions as the elevator continued upwards. She glanced sideways at him and caught his pout. It looked adorable on him. She stepped closer to him and lightly rested her hands on his chest, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. She listened as he declared that she owed him. She laughed at the shower comments and brought her lips to his for a kiss that was less innocent.

It didn't last long as the doors opened and they were face-to-face with other hotel guests. Maeve quickly shifted so that she was still standing close to Dev but not quite so scandalously. Not that the family in the elevator seemed to care about the young couple. They were too absorbed in their own little world.

Still, when they reached their floor, Dev and Maeve nearly bolted from the confines of the lift and in no time at all, they were in the suite.

Maeve inspected the room with a keen eye filled Whitman snobbery. But at least her snobbery was offset by some youthful idealism. That somehow she could alter the unsavory parts of her life so that it reflected the vision she had for herself. And in a way that included what she was doing with Devlin.

So far, they weren't serious -- or at least they hadn't talked about being serious in whatever they were doing. Things between them were fine for the time being and she would make changes in whatever presented itself to fit with what she had planned.

Turning to him, her crystalline eyes filled with amusement. She pulled her jacket off and dropped it on the bed. "How about a bath?" It came out as a question, but it really was more of a strong suggestion. Then her brows raised as she thought of how she could test his desire to make her happy during this little excursion. "How about...." she dramatically drew her words out. "A bubble bath?"

"How about a bath? How about....A bubble bath?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" If there was a spell that removed clothes instantly, it still wouldn't have matched Dev's speed at removing his pants. Stumbling to the bathroom, in an attempt to remove his remaining sock with friction, Devlin left a trail of clothing in his wake. He didn't have to be 'suggested' twice.

He was quite satisfied to see that the bathroom had a large whirlpool tub that took up one wall, considering he had requested the biggest he could afford. Knox's bathroom was so rickety and unpredictable that Dev often ended up just wand-bathing, which did the job but was no where near as nice as a whirlpool tub and bubbles. And there was also that rather important fact that there would need to be room for the naked woman that would be joining him. This was a very big deal to a man his age (Actually, any man at any age, really) and size most definitely mattered. One couldn't have 'fun' with a girl in a bubble bath if they had to worry about elbows in the eye and disjointed hips.

Turning the knobs, he grinned as crystal clear water burst forth with enough force to splatter him in the eyes. Aside from the excruciating pain of boiling water in his cornea, Dev was pleased. No muddy, piss-warm excuse for hot water here! Taking a deep breath of the steam rising from it, Dev grabbed a provided bottle of vanilla scented bubblebath and squirted in half the bottle. In moments, the bubbles had already filled the tub and were threatening to spill over on to the floor. Turning off the water, Dev stripped his one remaining piece of clothing, his boxers, and tossed them to the side. Climbing in, wincing from the heat as he went, Dev settled into the bath and tamped down the pile of bubbles in front of him.

"Alright, its ready! Bring the champagne with you!" He called out to her before putting his arms behind his head and letting himself relax into the bubbly heaven. God, he wanted to live in this tub.