Having won season tickets to the ballet, Jon had promised to take Vicki to see Dracula, even though he was not too keen on anything involving vampires lately. It was just a story, he kept telling himself, getting more paranoid as the days passed. He could still feel the vampire out there somewhere, looking for him, trying to get into his head. Fortunately, he'd taken measures to block her from his mind, but there were still times when he swore he could hear her calling to him from the darkness. He'd become something of a recluse over the last few weeks, especially at night, going out only when he needed to.

If Jon was nervy, it was a good bet that Vicki was, too, although for entirely different reasons. Having set up this high-brow date, she'd then gone into a panic, which had resulted in going to Mataya for advice. She was already regretting that - it had ended in a shopping trip with the bubbly theatre-owner, since apparently Vicki didn't own anything suitable to wear. She couldn't help feeling ever so slightly uncomfortable in what had been picked out, thinking she was overdressed for a matinee, even if it was at the Opera House.

'Taya's advice had resulted in a little black dress, heels, and yes, stockings. With her hair caught into a side ponytail, Vicki had covered all of this with her best coat of grey velvet, her hands plunged deep into her pockets as she waited outside her boarding house for Jon.

Jon was dressed in a black suit, a white shirt, open at the collar, and no tie. Hair pushed to one side, a few unruly curls fell onto his forehead, which he nervously kept trying to sweep aside with a hand. He'd aborted the tie on purpose to try and make her feel more at ease, knowing how she seemed to prefer casual clothes. He felt as much at ease in a tuxedo as he did in jeans, so it didn't matter much to him what he wore, but wearing jeans to the ballet just wouldn't do. As nervous as he was, he was hoping to make a good impression, though it was probably a little late for that and she didn't seem like the type to be easily impressed. He'd made sure the Bentley was in all her shiny black glory, freshly washed and waxed and looking as impressive as he hoped he did.

Hearing the Bentley's approach, Vicki looked up from her contemplation of her shoes with brightly nervous eyes, unable to help the wide smile of welcome that lit up her face as Jon drew up close by. Moving carefully in her heels - in constant terror of going arse over tip - she walked toward the shining car.

Not one to pull up and honk the horn, Jon parked the car in front of the boarding house and got out to greet her and escort her to the car. "Good evening, Miss Marshall. Your carriage awaits." He offered her a very formal bow.

"Good afternoon, Mr Granger," the redhead answered in kind, bowing back to him with a slightly worrying clatter of stilettos on stone. It settled quickly enough when she straightened, though. One hand slid from her pocket to slip into the crook of his elbow. "Is Jeeves driving, or did you give him the day off to play your wicked games?"

Like the gentleman he was, his eyes remained level with her face; though before getting out of the car, he'd whistled to himself at the gorgeous vision that awaited him outside the building, barely recognizing her. He chuckled at her question and offered an arm. "No Jeeves. I'm Jeeves. I prefer to do the driving."

"I'll have to remember that, then," she laughed softly, blue eyes twinkling at the subtle innuendo as she looked up at him. "You do scrub up well, don't you?" As if she hadn't already known that.

Those who had found themselves behind the wheel of Jon's Bentley were lucky individuals indeed, as he rarely, if ever, surrendered the car keys. "I bathe, on occasion," he teased back, blue eyes sparkling, as he led her the few steps toward the car and leaned forward to pull open the door. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

"Such a gentleman," Vicki grinned, pausing as he held open the door to brush a soft kiss to the very corner of his mouth. Drawing away with a wink, she somehow managed to manoeuvre herself into the car without flashing everything from the knee up. "And what an actor, too!" Despite the teasing dismissal of his compliment, though, a light flush touched her cheeks. It seemed as though Mataya had been right.

Jon smiled at the kiss, laughing a little when she dismissed the compliment away with a joke. "I'm serious, Vicki. I know gorgeous when I see it." He paused a moment to let his eyes wander over her, trying to be as discreet as possible, before closing her door and rounding the car to climb in beside her and start on their way toward the Opera House. "You should see Aimee without her makeup." He grinned over at her. Teasing, perhaps?

"Oh, I have. I thought someone had made her up as a zombie before I caught on!" The laughter and teasing was good; it was helping her to calm her fluttering nerves. She wasn't sure what was going on here. It wasn't as though she hadn't been alone with Jon before, or on a date with him. Of course, this was the first date in a dress, so maybe that was it. "She got all pouty with me, too, little diva that she is."

He actually snickered. He got along pretty well with Aimee, even though she had been labeled by most everyone on set as "difficult". And it hadn't been the love scenes that had done it. He just had more patience than others when it came to his co-stars and actors who were younger or less experienced than him. "She's not that bad!"

"Oh, come on, she milked every last drama until it ran dry," Vicki chuckled. She did like Aimee, but the woman had gotten on her nerves more often than she would have preferred. "At least she refrained from spreading her rumor about sleeping with you, though, or I might have got myself fired for giving the female lead a thick lip."

"Oh, I will, believe me." Unaware of, ignoring, or just accustomed to staring and prying eyes, he laid a hand against her hip and leaned in to brush a brief but promising kiss against her lips.

Her fingers curled into his lapel for the duration of that kiss, her giggles dissolving into a softer smile as he drew back from her. Smoothing his jacket beneath her fingers, Vicki offered him her arm with a slightly too enthusiastic gesture. "Shall we?"

There were a few whispers among the crowd as he was recognized. There might be rumors later that Jonathan Granger was seen at the Opera House with an unknown redhead on his arm, but at that moment he was enjoying himself too much to care. His hand stayed where it was on her hip for a moment longer, as he smiled down at her, his heart beating a little bit harder than a moment before. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her toward the stairway that would take them to their seats.

It was an odd sensation, being the focus of curious stares, but Vicki figured she was going to have to get used to that if she was going to be on Jonathan Granger's arm. Thankfully, she found it funnier than she did intimidating, murmuring under her breath to him as they mounted the stairs; "Do you think any of them will win a prize if they catch us snogging in the interval?"

"Only if they brought cameras," Jon muttered quietly back as he led her up the stairs, a polite smile to those they passed on the way. It was the middle of the day, so he was fairly certain they were safe, but he still felt a little nervous all the same. "If I want to leave before it's over, would you be okay with that?"

"Of course." It was an automatic reaction, offered in response to the tension she could feel simmering just under the surface in him. She put it down to Jon simply being paranoid still about gun men in public places, which was a reasonable enough assumption. Blue eyes widened just a little as she realised where they were headed, and she let out a quiet laugh that was all kinds of suggestive. "Oh dear lord ....we're in a box" With curtains?"

It might have been that if he remembered the shooting, but he didn't. Nearly everything that had happened to him before that moment was a blank, only a handful of memories Josephine had chosen to share with him, keeping the rest hostage, as it were, to tempt him further. He smiled at her reaction. He'd actually won four tickets but had traded them in for two box seats. "I have box seats for the season."

"Oh really?" she giggled, squeezing his arm gently. "Cheap date, hmm?" Ahead of them, an usher waited to check their tickets, before opening the door onto the hallway that ran behind the boxes themselves, indicating that they should take the second door on their left.

Jon smirked. "I didn't even have to pay for them." He showed the usher their tickets and followed his directions to their seats, holding open the door for her to allow her to step inside before him.

Thanks to that little comment, Vicki was still laughing as she stepped through the door. "You know, you really didn't have to share that," she chuckled, turning to poke at his stomach as she backed into the luxuriant box. It was set up for two, and two only, though there was space enough for more. Thick carpet sank beneath their feet in shades of red and gold that matched the beautifully carved and padded chairs set behind the solid railing. And yes, there were curtains. Temptation galore.

He turned his head to take in their surroundings. "You know, I've never had box seats. Ever. It's kinda nice." Not that he remembered anyway. It wasn't that he didn't like going to the theater, but he usually spent most of his time behind the curtain or on stage.

"Oh yes, very posh," she agreed, proceeding to do something that had always given her father panic attacks whenever he'd taken her to the theatre as a child. She leaned far out over the railing until her head was almost upside down, deliberately peering into the box that was set beneath theirs. No doubt she offered a wonderful view of lacy stocking-tops to Jon in the process, but his enjoyment of it depended on whether or not he trusted her not to tip straight out of the box altogether.

"Jesus Christ, Vicki!" he exclaimed, his heart leaping into his throat when she leaned over and his arms went around her waist to keep her from falling. He hardly had time to enjoy the peepshow, too worried she was going to go arse over teakettle into the box below theirs.

Of course she was a giggling wreck by the time he pulled her back up, quite content to sag back against him while her fingers stroked his hands at her waist reassuringly. "Don't you trust me, Jon Boy?" she managed, tilting her head back with a bright smile to look into his eyes.

His heart was racing again and this time it wasn't because he'd been kissing her. "You're going to give me a heart attack." And he was only twenty-five. He couldn't help but smile back at her though, even if she had just about given him a panic attack. She was too adorable to stay mad at long.

Still laughing softly, she twisted in his grasp, reaching up to stroke the pad of her thumb over his smiling lips. "If that happened, I'd just have to nurse you back to health, wouldn't I?" she threatened sweetly. "You know the sort of thing, of course ....the bed baths, the uniform. You might never recover."

His arms slid around her waist, linking his fingers at the small of her back. "That would be horrible." He imagined her in a short, tight, fitted nurse's uniform giving him a sponge bath or maybe a massage.

Her brow rose with an impishly knowing glint in her eyes as she finally stilled her laughing. "Oh, yes, I'm sure you'd hate every minute of it." Hands resting comfortably on his arms, she tilted her head, watching his expression with fond amusement. "At this rate, we're not going to see any of the ballet," she murmured teasingly. "Hasn't even started yet, and you're imagining me in kinky dress up."

"We could skip it and leave, but we'd probably cause a stir." He leaned in to whisper in her ear, though they were the only ones within earshot. "I think we're being watched." So long as it wasn't vampires watching, he was okay with it, though he didn't really want rumors of them being together in the papers either. He frowned at that thought, not wanting to put her in any danger. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"Jon, ease up a little, okay?" Vicki smiled gently up at him, her fingers flexing on his arms once again. "I'm a big girl, I can take a little gossip. Why shouldn't you go out to the theatre with whoever you want' It's got nothing to do with them, and if it turns into rumor, that's all it is. We know the truth; no one else does."

There was a pause as she watched this sink in. Striking a pose, she flung her arms out wide with an inviting grin. "Now shut up and kiss me, you mad, impetuous fool!"

Pressed as she was against his side, he must have felt the way her breath staggered for a moment as his hand took up its place on her knee with only a thin layer of sheer silk between their skin. Vicki bit her lip, trying to stifle a smile as her legs parted just a little, an unconscious invitation that was emphasised by the breathy tone of her voice against his ear.

There was more than one way to skin a cat, or to appear to have proper decorum when one didn't really want to be proper, and this was one of them. No one could see the hand that slid slowly up against Vicki's thigh or the look on her face, or hear the catch of her breath. His gaze remained focused on the stage, while his hand explored further, slowly sliding upwards.

His fingers were bound to encounter silk, then lace, needing to push only a little at the bunched material of her dress to discover warm skin above them. But as much as Vicki was enjoying Jon's subtlety, she was never going to be one who would simply sit and take it. One hand gently smoothed down the length of his arm as she rested her cheek against his shoulder, fingers inching downward to ripple against the inner curve of his thigh.

His hand paused in its exploration when he felt her hand following suit, and his eyes fell closed. He withheld a moan, but his breath hitched and he tensed, almost forgetting where they were ....or not caring. She'd feel the muscles beneath the designer pants bunch and tense, reacting to her touch as he straightened his back in the chair.

"Everything alright there, Jon Boy?" Despite her teasing tone, there was no mistaking the gentle husk in Vicki's voice that was entirely of his own making, her retaliation impishly stroking upward along the line of those tensed muscles with her gaze fixed upon the dancers on the stage.

Jon opened his eyes, clearing his throat and reaching for her hand to halt her progress before she went too far and he'd have to excuse himself to visit the men's room. "Have we been here long enough to sneak out yet?" he leaned his head toward her to whisper back at her. He'd had enough of vampires to last him a lifetime, ballet or no.

Her hand turned, twining her fingers between his to let her thumb stroke over his knuckle as she held back a quiet laugh. "I don't think anyone will notice we're gone," was murmured wickedly against his ear, accompanied by a gentle brush of lips to the lobe.

"You already know how this turns out, right?" He asked, tilting his head toward hers, presumably referring to the ballet and not their obvious attraction to each other, exhaling a breath when she kissed his earlobe.

"If I need reminding, I can always read the book again." Her nose touched his, that familiarly impish grin making itself known on her face in the gloom that surrounded them as she added, "In bed."

He grinned back at her, eyes shining brightly despite the dim light. "I think we can find better things to do in bed than read, don't you?"

A quiet giggle escaped, more felt than heard. "One or two activities do spring to mind," Vicki conceded, moving to lower her skirt once again with a gentle push to his resting hand. "Can you walk, or should we wait for the interval?"

He smirked. "No, I can walk. My tripod isn't fully extended yet. "

"I suppose I'll have to try harder next time, won't I?" With another soft chuckle, she made the first move toward their escape, leaning back from him to untangle their hands. Slow movements, of course; wouldn't do to alert the audience to their leaving.

Jon followed suit, waiting for her and then getting up slowly, following her from the box to make a quiet getaway.

((Part Two to come! Huge thanks to Jon's player for letting me make him squirm!))