Once every blue moon (Well, full moon) A certain age by the name of Sydney (Who, yes, did hail from downunder) was human. Now, this was unsurprising, as most people were human on the full moon to (Except for the weres). What was unusual was what he was the rest of the time..

A rather adorable, squuezable, glompable, sulky little talking kitten. Which is a good lesson on why you should always be careful with spells. And why you should read the fine print on /everything/.

Espeically teletubby products.

Now, this Sydney, who is the centre of my post, was sitting in Faded solely with the purpose of aggravating his 'rescuer' and the supplier of milk that had found him in the park. And getting very, very happy with use of alot of alcohol. Such was how these full moons usually went; Except this 'rescuer' happened to be a pretty girl. Which tended to change the stakes a bit.

He wasn't all that bad looking, now that he was human, with black hair that looked as if it's ends had been dipped into white ink and bright green eyes, currently fixed on the painfully slow bartender, though he was paying attention to his 'date' for the day.

"Sooo..."

Amazing, how complicated a simple task as taking in a lost cat can be. How was she to know that he could talk.... and had an attitude... and was really a mage... that turned into man every full moon... a very attractive man.

Xanthe, too, was watching the bartender, but her mind was on Sydney. He seemed so different from when he was a feline.

Maybe it had to do with the fact they were the same species. Animal magnetism... gotta' love it.

"Yeah... so, Sydney, dah-ling," She said, a grin on her lips as she dragged out the 'ah' sound, "you do Kareoke much?"

"Kareoke?" Sydney had small but repeated heart attacks, nearly dropping his drink as he gave her a look that was usually reserved for small but devious stalking poodles. He wasn't doing /that/. No one in hell.

No way in all the seven hells. He'd rather be furred for the rest of his life then sing infront of all these people. Stagefright? hell ya.

"No."

Xanthe gave him a pouty face, then shrugged.

"Fine then. I'll just go solo. But that's later, what do you wanna' do now?" She asked, poking him in the chest and at teh same time brushing some hair out of her eyes.

He had stagefright. Aww.....

"Well, there are plenty of things we could do." His leant forward, a purely predatory twist to his lips, an it looked like he might kiss her, but instead he just let the grin stretch and pulled away again.

She was fun.

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at him with amusement.

"Well, kitty-cat, you're an interesting date- Hey bartender, where're those drinks?- you know?" She said, calling over he shoulder in the middle of her sentence. The man brought the drinks in a hurry, and anthe took a long swig. She loved beer. She didn't know why, exactly, but she just did.

"Sydney, not Kitty-cat.' He corrected her idly, tracing patterns on the table as he watched her swig. He himself took little sips- Not out of fear of choking , but simply because it was hard going from hands to paws to hands.

She finished her drink, and, with a rather happy grin, grabbed him around the shoulders, locking her hands together behind his back.

"Ya' wanna' dance with me, Syd?" She said, her grin growing as she found a new nickname for him.

"Syd?" He echoed, rolling his eyes. Really, could she not go five seconds without coming up with a new nickname for him? Syd, indeed. "I s'pose. Might as well enjoy myself."

(( 'Tis time to put a stop to these pathtically short posts of mine. ))

With an uncharacteristically sweet and slightly shy smile, (Shy... what in the -WORLD-?) she moved herself to the music. She let her body sway, her hips doing most of the work. Her hair was everywhere, seeming more like a mane than anything.

The music was something she hadn't heard before. It was exotic and primal... something you don't usualy hear.

It was perfect.

He was clumsy and awkward, or so he thought he was- Until he reached the dancefloor with her and realised everything was just perfect and the fact that he would be a purring kitty again come tommorow kitten was forgotten completely. He was far to distracted by the beautiful catch he had landed. (Or had she landed him?)

Pressing up against her, he allowed the first signs of a true smile. Everything was just perfect- And thats how he new something had to go wrong.

And things would go wrong.... but not yet. Not yet.

Xanthe wasn'th thinking... she was living. She didn't care that her partner would be a cat come tomorrow, she didn't think about her dead-end life....

Just the music.

As Sydney pressed his body against her, she pressed back. What else was one to do? It was like she wasn't Xanthe...

And she loved it.

(-Grins- They are going to be so off iin the morning, when Sydney realises he's going to have to wait a whole month before he can use fingers and she realises she's been partying with a cat.

Yes, I am out of muse power. But do not fear! My posts will come swiftly once the almighty 2-week hols begin.)