When she lifted up, he curled one arm around her back and then flipped them over so she was atop of him. "And now that I've got a paying job, here I am going to stay." He released her with his hand and put both hands behind his head. "Schlomo has never looked so good, hmm?" His eyes were dancing and he could barely contain the excitement of having an acting job again after so long a hiatus.

"Hell no," she agreed with a husky laugh, leaning over him on one hand to flip her hair out of her eyes and his. "And you get to show off your wicked keyboard skills, too." Stretching her legs out, she thumped herself down on his chest, her hands folded beneath her chin as she grinned up at him. "And, I'll have you know, there's no nepotism at all here. Ludo wanted you almost the second you walked in. He was almost apoplectic at the thought of turning the fabulous Max Yako away!"

He laughed at that and brought his hands up to pull her hair back from her face gently. "Ludo's wanted me from the moment he laid eyes on me. And not just so I'll act in the company." Waggling his brows, he chuckled again. "Though I have to say it's a relief that he does want me. That way I'll know he won't make any moves on my leading lady."

'Taya laughed out loud at that. "Dude, he's a luvvie, he doesn't want me," she snickered. "The man just wants to work me to death, I'm sure. I didn't realise they were auditioning me until they cast me this afternoon!" She rolled her eyes at the memory. "Geez, they even contracted a choreographer so I couldn't argue."

"Now I know you're not complaining about that," he gently guided her head down and his own upwards to kiss her softly. "Dream job, babe. We get to work together. It's what we've always wanted. I could kiss them both for popping that on you like that. Pure genius." He snickered and lay his head back down, a thoughtful look on his face. "Maybe I'll just shake their hands. Don't want them thinking the wrong thing."

She smiled against his lips, giving as gently as he gave. "Okay, so I'm not complaining that much," she confessed with a chuckle. "But it's just more work, right now. How'm I gonna fit in rehearsals with choreographing the showcase, and all the PR that comes with opening a theatre and everything?" She sighed a little desperately, and giggled at his afterthought. "You'd make Ludo's day with a kiss. Gabriel ....he might strangle you."

"You're going to do it all just like you do everything else," He smiled and let her hair fall down onto her shoulders as his hands moved to the small of her back. "With charm and grace." He chuckled at the last part of what she'd said. "Maybe I'll kiss Gabe just to make Ludo jealous and watch them fight." That image made him laugh out loud. "Oh this is going to be so much fun."

"Hey, mister," she tapped his chest, one brow raised as she smirked. "Hard work, remember" Schlomo might not be a real lead role, but he's gonna be played the best he's ever been played, right?"

"Hey, it's me you're talking to. You know that I put my all into my roles. But while I'm not working, it's going to be fun to mess with the crew and stuff. All work and no play makes Max a very dull boy." His hands lowered and he squeezed her tight behind. "And you wouldn't want a dull boy, now would you, Mrs. Yako?"

"Definitely not," she smiled back, tactfully not reminding him that she wasn't Mrs Yako anymore. Worst time to do that was when he was getting grabby, and she did like it when his hands wandered. In private, that is. "You better make the most of this, too. No more moping around feeling sorry for yourself, dude."

Ah, the pleasures of sitting behind a mixing desk while live music was recorded in a state of the art studio. Leo really was in his element - well, as far into his element as he could get when he wasn't actually playing. There was a string quartet in at the moment, and he wasn't supposed to be doing any of the technical side. But then, what was the point in owning a studio if you couldn't just walk in and take over when you felt like it"

The sound tech - Lula Durn - was watching him fiddle with an amused, and slightly resentful, smile. She was used to him getting under her feet; that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

The strains of Bach came to a close, and Leo held up his hand for silence until he stopped the recording. The light switched from red to green, and the musicians visibly relaxed at the release of tension.

"That sounded great, guys," Leo spoke through the intercom. "Come on through, and we can listen again, maybe tweak the levels a bit -"

"Leo?"

He glanced back at the door, where the receptionist of the studio was lingering in the doorway, a package in his hands. Turning, Leo nodded to Lula, who took his place at the mixing desk to unlock the studio doors and let the quartet out as the boss moved over to the door.

Taking the package from the teenager who worked the desk for him, Leo nodded the boy away, noting the return address on the envelope, and tore it open lazily. Brown eyes scanned the sheet in front of him, and he nodded again, smiling faintly.

"Sweet. I'm in."

The score was given a cursory once over, and he returned to the desk. No rest for the wicked, after all.

Ben had been busy in the front yard, pruning the rose bushes back in preparation for the upcoming winter. His shirt was soaked through with sweat and his ball cap was similarly stained. When the courier approached, he put down his pruning sheers and took off his gloves. "For me?" he grinned and took the envelope. Just from the heft of it, he knew it was very good news. The courier turned to finish his route and Ben took off into the house, waving the envelope before he even opened it. "Dove! Look!" Rushing into the house, he held out the envelope in front of him. "It's thick, must mean I made it!" Ben's face was flushed with more than the heat and exertion of gardening, he was excited, too. "Open it! I'm afraid to look," he laughed and held it out to his very pregnant fiance.

If Ben was flushed, it was nothing to the way Dove looked. Bright pink in the cheeks, sweating almost as much as he was, and puffed out, she looked up from her scrubbing of the cupboards as he came running into the house. "What, what is it?" she asked, puffing a lock of blonde hair from her face as she peered over the kitchen counter. When the envelope was proffered to her, she slammed her hands onto the counter to heave herself and her overdue pregnant belly to her feet, wiping her hands clean before she took the package, giggling at his excitement. "Honestly, I don't know what you're so afraid of, my Ben's the best in town," she began, delictaely flicking the edge open and withdrawing a script and two sheets of paper.

Ben watched her get up and his expression softened just a bit. Dove may have been horrendously huge in her own eyes, but Ben saw her just as beautiful as ever. He hurried to her side when the contents were withdrawn from the envelope. With her, he scanned the first page and then leapt into the air, pumping his fist and letting out a loud "whooop!" With a laugh, he returned to her side, hand into the small of her back, as he read on. "Oh my God!" he laughed again and then hugged Dove as tightly as he dared. "I got the lead! Dove! The lead!" He pulled away from her and danced around the kitchen. Then he dropped to his knees and threw his hands into the air. "I got the lead!"

"Oooph!" Laughing as she was dragged into an enthusiastic hug, Dove leaned into Ben, bouncing back against the counter while he danced about and flung his hands up. "That's wonderful!" she declared happily. "See, what did I tell you? I told you it was practically yours as soon as you got it!" Giggling, she rested her hand against her belly as she leaned against the counter. "You realise you're going to have to let Jessie take you out now, won't you?"

In a single fluid movement, he jumped to his feet from his knees. "Take me out' Why's that?" Ben went back to her side and gently took the script and the papers he'd been afraid to read, from her. "I think we need to go out and celebrate. What do you say, beautiful?"

She glanced up from her absent-minded staring into space, the faint smile on her face reflected in her wide blue eyes. "I say that's a wonderful idea, Ben," she agreed softly. "So long as the evening ends at the hospital."

"We'll go eat and maybe some danc....wait, what?" That exuberant grin was quickly replaced with eyes as wide as saucers. "Hospi, now" Dove, really, now?" The script and everything else in his hands was dropped and he reached to touch her, but kept his hands a few inches. "How far apart?" He finally did touch her, if only to wrap his hand around her arm and begin leading her out into the front yard. "Can you, no, you can't," He shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket. A number was dialed with a single touch of his thumb. "Jessie, get over here, now!" The phone was then put into his pocket. "What can I, I mean, what do you..." He stopped his frantic thoughts and hugged her again. "We're going to have a baby!"

The night had been eventful.

It was rare for him to receive instructions involving a double mark. Normally it was a man or a woman of great importance who traveled with an armed entourage and an armored convoy, and most of the time they traveled alone. The people he was sent to procure were often loners, so drenched in deceit that they found it impossible to trust anyone.

So when the instructions that illuminated his phone were tagged at the end with DEUCES ARE WILD, he was surprised.

As the sun started to rise he made his way back to the small loft apartment on Willow Bend in the North Side, and found the enclosed folder tucked inside his door. He knew what it was by the block letters that ran across the front of it, but more than that, he knew what it said inside by the weight and thickness. There was a script inside, among other things.

He had been accepted.

The door opened and closed with an almost android timing, and as he passed a small table beside the couch his keys were tossed in a bowl. He took a seat and tore open one end of the envelope, pouring its contents out across the coffee table.

He had heard of the production, though had never actually seen it. Tyrone Jackson was just another target. Someone to be studied and dissected. Habits, mannerisms, speech patterns. They would all be scrutinized and analyzed until Eurus could recreate them subconsciously.

It was that focus to detail, that obsessive hunger for perfection that made him good at his profession.

Both of them.

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"Don't need no rich bitch, to tell me which Fork to use, I paid my dues In a rat-trap building called New York Livin' off beans, greens, and pork In a basement, tenement, No one's got to tell me what it meant To be black, Jack..."

The steps came easily. They weren't very complicated, it was more the intricate weaving of the shoulders and hips. The dance routine revolved around a man from the deep Urban jungle, which meant a rapid series of top rocks, hand glides, roll outs and suicides. Interwoven within the number was a rap, a harsh and clipped poem set to music that expressed the desires of Tyrone Jackson.

Thus, it had to express the desires of Eurus Vulturnus.

"Ace of spades All the car-wash washers and day-work maids Can't wash it off, never fades, It's who you are until you're dead Now ain't that a kick upside the head? Yeah, I know about Pryor and Portier, Can't get higher than Sugar Ray Muhammed Ali and Doctor J And 90% of the N.B.A."

Hand movements, quick and deadly, setting up a smooth shoulder roll and toe spin that sent him popping and locking across the studio floor. It might have looked ridiculous from afar, but to observe the grim seriousness that was etched upon the dancer's face revealed an authentic focus. He slid across the floor, dropping into a crab shuffle that ended with a perfectly executed stab.

He dabbed at the sweat that beaded across his brow with a hand towel and took a quick set of sips from his water bottle. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

He started again.

Eyes closed, plugs firmly in her ears, 'Taya switched through the tracks on her CD player until she hit the right song, and began humming along to it, trying to memorise the words yet again. She was supposed to know them by now; after all, they were almost done blocking the scenes, and everything after this would be polishing and perfecting. And judging by the fact that Max's keyboard was all set up on the stage, she had a horrible feeling she knew which scene was next on the list.

Max strolled out onto the stage as if he owned it. There was a confident lift to his chin as he walked towards the keyboard. His lines were read, and if somebody were to walk in off of the streets, they'd believe that he was speaking to the girl of his dreams who wanted nothing to do with him. Slowly, he sank down onto the piano bench and gazed up at 'Taya with large, almost sorrowful eyes. His hands came to rest instinctively upon the keys.

Hastily putting the CD player away, 'Taya flicked her hair back off her face and took a deep breath, waiting for Ludo to call for silence. As he did, and the rest of the cast settled down, she entered upstage left, full of Carmen's confidence in her looks and ability. Clayton, who was playing Goody, did his masterful doubletake and left the stage as she paused and approached Max's Schlomo, speaking her lines with a confidence she did not feel in them at all.

Max was doing fine until 'Taya came strolling out onto the stage. She seemed to ooze sexuality and confidence. Max sat up a bit more straight and his eyes followed her everymove. He could have been Schlomo to her Carmen, except he couldn't find his voice. He knew he was supposed to say something, but for the life of him, all he could think about was picking her up and carrying her off to a dark corner.

Hands on her hips, 'Taya raised a brow at her apparently speechless colleague, trying not to smirk. It was quite reassuring to know that Max wasn't half as good at his lines as he pretended to be. There was a cough from the stalls, and a voice muttered Max's next line pointedly. And just to make things worse for him, 'Taya winked at her lover as it was said.

"Jesus," he muttered, it was the first word of his line, but the way he said it was no way near the panicked way Schlomo should have said it. The word was full of the lust that he was feeling. But the glare from Ludo had him snapping back into character. He slumped on the piano stool and gave the rest of the line as if a lovestruck young man who lacks the confidence to say what he sees and feels.

Shrugging off the momentary flash of answering lust that came from watching Max struggling with his libido, 'Taya let Carmen speak, moving to place the (blank) score sheets on the keyboard in front of him. One arm bent to let her rest her elbow on his shoulder, leaning down to read the non-existent notes. There was a snigger from the cast in the stalls as their colleagues waited to see if this would put the great Max Yako off even more.

Oh, but the challenge was on! Max remained in character, "There's something missing," he looked up at 'Taya, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The rest of his lines were given, even as he leaned his head towards her bosom to nuzzle it.

Her eyes widened just a little as she realised what he was doing, leaning up as she continued her lines back to him. He was definitely for it now. Her tiny shorts did not cover enough of her backside to make the sway in her step anything less than provocative as she walked around the keyboard. " ....I could win a Grammy, and my mom would still call me a slacker."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure," his hands moved to the keyboard. Even as he played, his back was ramrod straight and he stared into her with a fiery passion. 'Taya knew exactly what she was doing to him. And the frustrating thing was that it was working! He missed his cue and had to start playing the music over again. Tearing his eyes from 'Taya, it was the only way he knew to get through the scene. "Bring on tomorrow..."

Chewing on her lips, 'Taya paced in front of the keyboard, embracing the easiest part of the scene. "Let it ..." she paused as though considering the right word. "Let it shine ....like ....like the sun coming up on a beautiful day, it's yours and mine ..." Pausing again, she turned to face Max, hands on her hips once again.

His voice joined hers as he played and looked up into her eyes. The words were easy enough to remember as they'd been over that part several times in their own apartment. And just for a brief moment, the true actor in Max came out and he felt like a young man who was about to lose the love of his life. There was a sorrow deep within his voice as he sang the words to 'Taya.

Only her eyes gave away how much she understood in what he was doing, because Carmen Diaz was a character so full of herself she would never notice that the man at the keyboard was singing to and for her. "You're unreal!" she squealed perfectly in character, barely a moment after Max's fingers stilled. "Don't you see, Schlomo, I'm what your band needs!"

The moment she squealed, something snapped inside and Max shook his head, blinking rapidly. "Can I take five?" He called out into the darkness beyond the footlights of the stage. "I'm not feeling very good." He stood then from the piano bench and walked off stage; not even waiting for approval.

'Taya stared after him, shocked. Max had never walked out on a scene before. She looked down into the stalls, to where Ludo was mouthing like a fish. He pulled himself together quickly, though, gesturing to her to go and make sure Max was alright, and ordered Cathy and Eureus up onto the stage to go over one of the ballet scenes. Relieved of duty for the time being, 'Taya hurried off the stage after Max, moving through the sound-proofed door and onto the stairs down into the dressing rooms. "Max?"

Max was gulping in air and pacing back and forth in front of the lighted mirrors. His hands were on his hips and he kept shaking his head. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why that scene had suddenly struck a chord within him and why it had hurt so damn much. He turned to 'Taya with a sheepish look on his face when she called her name. "Hey, I'm sorry."

She stepped into the room, closing the door securely behind herself. She had a feeling she knew why Max was finding Schlomo so hard to cope with. It would have been easier on him if she hadn't been playing Carmen, but some demons needed to be met head on. "Don't be," she told him quietly, walking toward him. "I'm not Carmen anymore, Max. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

Max stared at her, hard. His lips parted so he could breathe through his mouth. Then he turned away and looked up, and then hung his head. "I know you're not, 'Taya. And I'm better than this. When on stage, who you are and what?s happened in your past is supposed to stay in the wings. I'm sorry I let you down."

"You didn't let me down," she told him fiercely, striding across the room to curl her arms around him, laying her cheek between his shoulderblades. "We never talked about at the time, and it would be stupid of me to think that you could just let it go. It took me years to move past that; it's unfair of me to think that you could forget it more easily. And it was unfair of me to do it knowing you would be the one to find me."

Max lifted his arms and turned around to hug her to his chest. "You don't know what that did to me, 'Taya." He closed his eyes and lowered his head to kiss the top of hers. "I nearly died with you that night." His voice was raspy and full of regretful sorrow. "But I thought that I had a grip on it. And obviously I don't."

She lifted her head, her fingers clenching in the back of his shirt. "You need to listen to me, Max, right now," she told him firmly. "That is never going to happen again. You know why' Because I've got you, all of you, now, and I'm not letting go. I don't need to play anyone else's game to be happy and successful. I have a man I love, friends, a job ....hell, I'm a boss myself now. I'm so far away from that place, it's like it never existed. And you need to believe that."

He nodded slowly, listening carefully to her every word. "I know," Max whispered when she'd finished. "It was just a momentary thing, 'Taya. Thinking about Carmen and what happens to her just brought it all back, that's all." He hugged her again and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's going to be alright. Just took me by surprise is all."

"Moments can do the worst damage," she murmured, tilting her head back to smile gently up at him. "A very good actor told me that the first day we met, remember?" Her hands relaxed against his back, palms pressing to help her rise up on her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I do remember," Max smiled and he kissed her softly. "Now that I've got control again, let's get back to the stage. I'm sure Ludo and the rest are pissed off."

"So what if they're pissed" I'm the boss, they can like it or lump it," 'Taya grumbled impishly, reluctantly releasing him from her embrace and turning to head toward the dressing room door again. Time waited for no man, actor or not.

With a duffle bag slung across his shoulder he arrived at the studio just as the sun came up, the darkly tinged glasses doing a superb job of deflecting the blinding illumination that crested the eastern horizon. He was dressed for rehearsal; a fitted tank top plastered across the rippling cords of muscle that laced his broad torso and baggy sweatpants that covered the second-skin tight shorts hugging his hips and thighs. The role he played called for jeans and a hoodie, an athletic jersey and laceless Adidas, but some habits were just too hard to kill.

He stepped inside, one hand pushing the door open as the other drew the shades from his eyes. There were people to meet face to face, newly found associates and colleagues. Zephyr would be late, of that he was certain, but their relationship had been formed years ago. He was interested in meeting the people of the recital. The other actors.

The other performers.

He prowled toward the stage, each step drawing that grin wider across his face. It was his silent lover, his demanding partner, his humbling nemesis. He took the stairs with ease and dropped the bag at the top of them, stepping out of his shoes with the practiced patience of a purely bred dancer. He twisted into a three spin pirouette, ending with a masterful battement gliss" that coiled into a tight Fouett' rond de jambe en tournant; arms wide, knees bent, head lowered.

The roar assaulted him, though it was only a haunted memory. He lifted his gaze to observe the empty studio and again smiled, remembering those days. Remembering that rush.

With a relaxed patience he careened forward, the hinge of his waist steady, his left foot spiked upon the floor en pointe, his right heel drifting upward as hips opened with flexible ease, reaching high into the air beside him in a perfect arabesque pench"e variation. Not a single shiver, perfectly balanced, frozen in that elegant position.

Soon it would be time to perform.

Soon he would be alive once more.

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