There was a faint click of heals that bounced off of the display ridden walls of the mall. The woman the offending shoes belonged to was in a sort of hurry. She needed to get back to Agatha's before too long--she'd been kept a little busy for the better part of the afternoon.

Jaqueline Merle, a Canadian woman with a french accent, was slipping on her gloves well before she made it to the doors leading outside. She only had one or two packages, and a hat tucked under her arm. The jacket she wore was a soft brown, if brown can be considered to have a texture. The end of it was just a little higher than the hem of her chocolate skirt. That, in case you're wondering, reached just to her knees. The gloves she was tugging on were a nice cream to match her blouse.

Her blonde hair was left down today, unusually. It fell in nice waves around her rather pale face. It wasn't unattractive, but wasn't any shade of tan, either. Her blue eyes were narrowed in her rush.

There just wasn't enough time in the world. You needed time to find the people, time to get to know them, time to make their potion, time to make sure it worked.

And now Agatha was probably wabbling around the house in that old walker of hers. Really, Jaqui had to do everything these days.

Tamberlaine was, oddly, not on a corner. He was in mall. There weren't many people who would want his services at this time of day, but he had been kicked out of HQ because Mac had some 'business' to take care of.

His hair was it's normal bright orange and going everywhere for about six inches. He wore a neon pink suit jacket over a black and white leopartd print shirt and checkered tie. His pants were a bright green, his shoes unmatched. His brief case was in hand.

The demon hadn't been paying too much attention to where he was going and stepped in the path of a rather well dress woman.

Oops.

In the instant of the collision, Jaqueling believed that she'd run into a costume rack. Then again, she hadn't had time to register the fact that a clothing rack wouldn't be quite so squishy. A person might, though.

"Excusez moi!"

That was wonderful, certainly. Now, not only was she in a tangle of limbs and brightly colored clothing, but her skirt had ridden up to an inappropriate length. She cursed in French and tried desperately to cover herself while holding onto a semblance of decency.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" then rembered that not everyone spoke her language, the language of love, "What is going on?"

Tamberlaine gave an even stare, as if he was merely an observer. Then, after a moment, he spoke.

"It looks as if you are running into me." Hey, she asked.

He then turned the even stare into a look of appraisal, a look from someone who knew what he was looking for.

A professional.

She knew that stare. It was most definately not one that she was normally on the recieving end of. She was the one who should be doing the judging, not being judged.

"Get your eyes off me, what are you looking at?" She was normally a very nice person, honestly. For some reason she was uncomfortable with her own line of work set against her.

Now that she got to looking at him, she began to wonder what sort of right someone with that fashion sense had looking her up and down.

"I'm looking at you and what you have to offer." The demon took a step to the side to get a view of some more of her.

"Maybe not the conventional look, but there are some people who will go for that," Tamberlaine mumbled to himself.

"Que voulez-vous dire? What look, what people?"

Jaqueline was free to walk away any time she so pleased and was very tempted to do so. But you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It probably wouldn't kill her, and Jaqui was sure he wouldn't have taken the meaning of 'cat' literally.

Her eyes were still narrowed and she was silently weighing her package in her arm. Would it be heavy enough to do damage?

"The look you are, the people who I do business with."

Tamberlaine began a slow circle around her, stopped in front of her again. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a card, handing it to her.

"Here's my card."

It was a very simple card. TaMac, Inc. on the front, with the words "Whoring is what we do!" beneath it in small print.

It was Mac's idea.

...

"You can't be serious."

Her? A whore?

No.

"That's disqusting."

That was a rather odd thing for her to say, considering what she does in her time off. But then again, consider how she does it and with whom. She's not the one doing the dirty deed, just helping it along with a few natural componants.

"You've never considered it?"

Tamberlaine had to do something with this off time, and he might as well do business.

"You should. You would have much business that we are sorely lacking at the moment."

Every woman enjoys being complimented, it's a simple fact. But telling her that she'd be a good prostitute isn't the way to do it. Regardless of the fact that it's an off-handed compliment.

"I have more morale than that, monsieur. And I would like to advise you against accosting random women. You could land yourself in jail."

Her tone was like a slap in the face and her hands would have done the job if they weren't occupied.

Too bad the demon didn't seem to care or mind. He just gave a cold little smile that could have passed for nice if he himself was nice.

"Business is business, miss. You do what you do, and I do what I do. This is what I do."

"And I would like to keep it that way, thank you very much," her accent added to the effect of her irritation.

There was another brief echo in the halls. It wasn't that of shoes, instead it was the sound of ecstacy. Well, now that she knew how her potion had worked...although she was normally gone by now. But she couldn't help the small smirk of satisfaction as it flited across her face.

"Please stand aside, I wish to be on my way."

"As you wish," he said, stepping aside.

((bahshort))

She nodded to him as she walked past, clearly with a destination in mind and with an air of purpose.

Agatha was probably going to be a little ticked off, but oh well. It wasn't as if she were going to die.

The business card, however, was slipped into one of her packages before she secured the hat to her head. Perhaps she could be of use to their small organization without the use of her body. After all, love is what she does. Attraction isn't required, it's made.

The doors to the outside swung open and she was on her way.