Koshka had dressed herself to the nines, going for a combination of elegant and sexy by dressing in black and various shades of red. She was a vengeance demon, but no one could be blamed for thinking she was a succubus. She stood outside the shop, garnering a couple of catcalls as she waited for Malcolm. Through the barred window of the shop, the TV she had 'liberated' earlier this morning was visible. She was certain the thug would come with a couple of his friends, and fall into the snare she'd set for intruders, but for once, she had something she looked forward to more than visiting her judgment upon would-be thieves. So she'd have dinner with Malcolm, and then who knows what might happen later...
From up the street, in the shadows, Puck admired Koshka. She had on a burgundy dress that ended just above the knees, with a tasteful hint of cleavage displayed from the vee of her collar. Knee-high black suede boots and a jacket completed her look, making for an appealing package that would warm him on this cool night. And to think she was dressed like that, just for him! Rawr. Slipping backward into the darkness, he weaved his magic and gave things a few minutes more.
A black Rolls pulled around the corner and came to a gradual stop in front of the shop before Malcolm climbed from the vehicle. Like his suit from earlier, this one was double-breasted. The black fabric, coupled with the navy blue tie, was something that Puck had agonized over, trying to decide on the right combination of colors. He normally preferred brighter and warmer colors, but understood that some colors weren't appropriate for a suit... at least, usually. Since Koshka had responded so well to him earlier, he'd decided it was a safe option to dress Malcolm in something similar, if a bit more dressy and appropriate for an evening out with a date. From the way that Koshka studied him in an open and admiring glance, he deduced that he'd judged correctly.
"Good evening. Since we are going out for dinner, I feel it would be appropriate to call you Koshka, instead of Ms. Dengiov. Are you comfortable with that?" he asked.
"Only if I can call you Malcolm," she replied. He gave her a faint but warm smile and nodded before offering her his hand, palm up as he bowed slightly. She lifted her hand, languidly letting it drop into his own. "You cut quite the handsome figure." Her gaze moved to his car. "It certainly warms my heart to see someone take the time and effort to be so dapper." Though her tone was controlled and her expression was calm, Puck could practically taste the heat radiating off her.
As an ancient nature entity, Puck could sense arousal in others. After all, sex was part of nature, the way to continue the cycle of life. He could nearly taste Koshka's desire on the tip of his tongue, and imagined that it might carry the flavor of cinnamon. Her raw need beckoned to him, and he wondered when she'd last had sex, or an orgasm. Should Koshka invite him to bed - and it seemed almost a certainty at this point - he would ensure that she did not regret her decision. The implications of his disguise would be considered later, after he'd had his fun.
He brushed his lips across the back of her hand, lingering a moment longer than he needed to, his eyes moving up to meet hers.
His light kiss sent shivers along Koshka's spine, and she imagined his lips elsewhere. Gods, she almost wanted to melt. She'd been thinking about Malcolm all day and how much she wanted to see him again. She saw another brief smile at her comment.
"I do try," he offered, opening the passenger door for her, making sure she was comfortable before he slipped into the driver's seat. He took a deep breath as he turned the keys, feeling the engine hum smoothly. He would be flying almost blind in this, or at least it would feel that way. He'd learned all he could about safe, proper driving of a car in a short time, and though he was prepared to use his magic if absolutely needed, he didn't want to give away his true nature - at least not yet. After asking her if she was comfortable and pulling on his seat-belt, he leaned his foot against the gas.
Koshka sensed that he was nervous. She glanced over at him, noting how he seemed to be putting all his attention to his driving, as if he was afraid that even the most fleeting lapse in attention might cause an accident.
"Everything all right?" Malcolm asked as they idled at a light that had turned from yellow to red just as they approached it. He took the welcome lull in driving and glanced at her. She nodded.
"I'm just... sitting here, admiring the sight of you."
He relaxed, a smile coming to his face. "You flatter me, Koshka."
"Malcolm, you will find that I am not the kind of woman who gives meaningless praise."
"Well then, I am honored. I hope I will continue to earn that honor."
"Relax," she whispered. He raised his eyebrow a bit. "Take a deep breath. Just have fun, all right?"
He did as she asked. Was his nervousness really that apparent? Well, at least she was being nice about it. This kindness did a bit in helping him relax, and by the time they arrived at the restaurant, he took comfort in the fact that hey, his driving skills were pretty damn good.
Terraneo's was decorated in a modern look, with just a hint of Mediterranean culture displayed in photographs and paintings on its walls of places around the sea. The establishment presented itself as high-end, though the food was at reasonable if high for several items, prices. It seemed like a reasonable place for him to take Koshka, according to a common human tradition.
The hostess took them over to one of the alcoves that offered diners more privacy than the usual seating. After looking at the menu and discussing things, they decided to go with some wine and stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer while making some talk about their respective jobs. He worked in personal finance, helping clients to dispose of estates or possessions discreetly. She shared a couple of humorous stories about her work, and both of them laughed as they sipped their wine.
"So, I noticed you have a bit of an accent. I must say, I find it sexy," Malcolm commented. Here in America, foreign women were supposed to be highly desirable. With Koshka's looks, he didn't doubt that she was aware of her appeal. She'd never been one to flout her beauty, but was not above using it to her advantage now and then. "So where are you from?"
"Oh, here and there. Mostly Russia and Eastern Europe," Koshka replied casually. Puck knew that much was truth, at least for almost the last half-century. From the late fifties to the two-thousands, Koshka had indeed spent most of that time in Eastern Europe and Asia. Through that time, he'd always found her somewhere in that area.
"So how many languages do you speak?"
"There's English, Russian, Polish, Hungarian, and Turkish," Koshka commented, counting off the fingers on one hand before she stopped herself. Modest, are you? Puck thought bemusedly. He knew that Koshka also had a good command of Mongolian, Mandarin, Romanian, and German, and was fluent in Latin, Ukranian, and Greek.
Puck had spent some time deciding on what Malcolm would know for his other languages. Like Koshka, he was going to be modest.
"I know some Russian, and am fluent in Mandarin, Japanese, and French," Malcolm offered. "Perhaps you could help me brush up on my Russian?"
