He went for the sweet boy look. There were enough goth and dangerous types around to attract the ladies or even the men, but good, cute boys were enough of a rarity that he had a very good chance of getting fed. He put his brown hair up into soft spikes and in the dark light of the club his bright blue eyes shone innocently. A green polo shirt gave him a good polished look and his squeaky clean black and white shoes definately added to it. The khakis were just khakis, but they worked on him--they worked very well on him.

Now what approach should he use? Get out on the dancefloor and start on someone? No, that would ruin his good-boy image. Why not just go with an old favorite?

"Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry. Here, let me get that for you.." he added a southern twang to his voice to add to the wholesome effect.

He had turned from the bar with a mug full of beer, perfectly timed so that he'd hit someone, it didn't matter who. A little flick of his wrist and beer went flying up and down someone else's personage. Out came the napkins, conveniently placed on the edge of the bar and he frisked whomever it was he planned on sleeping with. After all, he was only trying to be helpful.

The beer sloshed upward out of the glass mug and down the front of his body. Startled and annoyed, Jehovah raised his hands slightly as if that would ward off the spill from getting on his body further. Of course, it wouldn’t. And almost immediately, hands were patting his body down with napkins.

Jehovah turned his head just slightly to the side to glare down at the man who had sloshed beer down him and began patting at him. He reached down and with a rather tight grip, he pulled the man’s hands from his body and held him at bay, his green eyes dancing. Just one more thing to add to the list of stressful events. Today had not been an extremely good day.

Jehovah was dressed in a pair of casual black slacks, which were now rather damp. Luckily he’d worn black, and until the mess dried, it would hardly be seen. His shirt was a muscle shirt, black and skin fitting, and over that, a white and black button down shirt. Tucked into the waist band of his pants, the butt digging against his back, if a Browning High Power, standard police issued gun. He’s tall, his face rather hansom with his burning green eyes and straight lips. His hair is drawn halfway up, straight, and thick, and dark. He looks good. He looks mad.

Jehovah didn't need a fake ID to get into the bar. He could also have pulled off any other appearance, but some how, today, even with his long hair, he breathed cop. And your underage. He didn't say a word as he let one of the others hands go and turned him back towards the bar (the 'sit with me' guesture) before seating himself and grabbing more napkins to clean at himself.

So what if he was underage? He didn't actually drink any of the stuff. Just bought it. Might not even have been his money so you never know. But he obliged Jehovah. It wasn't every night he got a reaction like that.

"Can I buy you something?" the accent was gone. He expelled air in what could have been considered a laugh, "Maybe a new pair of pants?"

Matt slipped onto a stool and propped his feet on the rung. Always, sometimes, never--Always put your hands in your lap, sometimes rest your wrists on the table, never put your elbows on it. Matt went with the Never option. It was comfortable.

Jehovah watched the man seat himself, turned his eyes down the bar at the tender. After a few moments, the bar tender was taking Jehovah's order of drink, hurrying to get away from the man that looked like he'd had a bad day and was ready to crawl over the counter.

"On him," Jehovah ended his order with, then turned on the stool putting one elbow on the bar, the other hand on his knee. "A drink and a new pair of pants would be nice. Thank you."

As if the young man had no choice. And if your lucky, maybe you'll even get to change him into those pants. Won't that be...fun.

"I was joking about the pants, stranger. I was going to make you go around in nothing for the rest of the night."

With no one to impress, Matthew's mood began to shift. He'd already snagged someone and that made his anticipation built. He couldn't wait for the ecstacy, the intimacy and the rush of keeping someone helpless struggling beneath you. The innocence that made his eyes shimmer was replaced by a dark and hungry tint when no one was looking. But he had to remember to hide it. Jehovah could still say no.

((::begs for forgiveness:: I'm sorry I disappeared! I'm back now, though!))

"That might have embarassed someone," he replied. And no, Jehavah didn't mean that it would embarass him.

So he's just gotten a drink on the young man for free, had the kid noticed Jehovah had tossed that tid bit in there? Shinny innocent eyes? One a young man? That's the last thing that Jehavah, as a cop trusts. One of the first things that Jehavah, as a stalker, looks for. And one of his favorite parts, as Jehvah the killer, likes. The glassy eyed look replacing the innocent. Mm.

"What's your name kid?"

(it's ok. I was gone too)

"Orville," he gave his middle name. He often found that it added to the image. He paid for Jehovah's drink and ordered one of his own, flipping the I.D. out so Bartender Joe could see.

"And you? What should I call you?" Something was different about the boy. Did he just become more desirable? To anyone who didn't know what he was, it would definately seem that way. To anyone who did, he'd still seem more desirable, but they'd know why.

“Orville?” He watched the kid pay and order, took a drink of his when it came. He didn’t answer the boys question for a while because he was distracted. How could such a young boy, as good looking as he may be, suddenly just seem more attractive? That just was not possible, but it was so. Jehovah suddenly felt attracted. Of course, he knew that seventeen and twenty-nine was entirely illegal. He was after all, a cop. But murder was illegal too, and that had never stopped him.

“Kristi,” he gave him. His own last name.

"Kristi? Unusual name." He swallowed some liquid, his adam's apple sliding up and down the throat. Matthew turned around and leaned his elbows against the bar while he glanced over the crowd and back to his victim. He was looking him up and down, making no move to hide it yet.

"Last name," he replied.

He made no move to cover that he noticed the kid look up and down. And knowing it was terribly wrong to provok the kid further into looking, he shifted so that his shirt pulled tighter, ran a hand over the wet stain the kid had put on his shirt and pants. But then...it was wrong to know he was underage but not kick him out. It was also wrong to stalk and to murder, but that didn't stop him.

Not a lot of things stop Mr. Kristi, do they? Now what I'm curious to know is whether he did these things because he was hoping to show off or not. After all, Matthew's attractive enough without his incubus incentive, with it he's darn near irresistable. The hunger in his eyes began to leak through as they followed every move of Kristi's.

Turn up the attractive factor just a tad more, thank you.

"So, you have any plans for tonight?"

Even his voice sounds seductive.

Oh, Orville doesn't need to turn it up, he's already got Jehovah entrapped, really. Maybe part of the entrapment was because he was underage. Whatever the reason, he was completely interested and he was not attempting to hide it.

Now what was he doing to show off? Certinaly not the murders or stalking. Only Lucifer and Bomani and his victums knew that side of him. And dead men don't usually tell secrets.

"Not one damned thing."

((Sorry, I totally forgot to state my direct object in the second sentence XD ))

The grin that appeared on Matthew's face shattered his good-boy impression, taking a one way trip over to devilish.

"Then what are we still doing here?"

He pushed himself from the bar and let his hand find its way to Jehovah's thigh. This wasn't just any hand. This was a mischeivious hand.

Strong thigh. Like everything else on him.

He watched the hand rest on his thigh and raised an eyebrow. Rise your cuteness just another notch Matt, Jehovah's gotten suspicious. Why was he attracted to a young kid that he wasn't really attracted to a moment ago? Why does he like that hand there, why doesn't he mind it being mischeivious? And why does he want it to wander?

But ah well, he's enthralled already, and already he's decided it doesn't matter. He took a drink of the beer, set it down, stood up to follow. He's tall.

It's just as well. Matthew might have to learn that he can't always get everything he wants. Things just don't work that way. Of course, they have so far. He plans on them going his way tonight, too. He did tone down his smile a bit, too, but the boy can't help being enthused. Jehovah has a great body and Matt wants to get a piece of it. And a piece of his soul.

While he walked through the place, making sure that his meal for the night kept up with him, women gave him furtive glances up and down, one or two of them leaving their dancing partners to get a bit closer to the handsome guy. I feel that I should say that Matthew's aphrodesiac isn't concentrated. When he lets it out, the person closest to him gets the best effect. This is why he's sticking close to Jehovah.

He doesn't need to stick close to Jehovah. Once Jehovah's decided what he wants, spell or no spell influance, he goes after it until he gets it or he has to kill it. There is just no other option. And so Matt could get as far as he wants and Jehovah will still find him.

Besides this, Jehovah must feel dominate in every situation or he simply is not interested. Even if he isn't the dominante one. It's just his nature. If someone else becomes dominate-like, Jehovah gets abusive to regain the dominance. That's what make him so much like his father, the one man he wants to be nothing like. So it is, he's slid an arm possessivly over Mathew's shoulder and is leading him instead of the otherway. Some how managing to lead but still follow. He's good at this game.

No matter, Jehovah's telling Matthew all he needs to know. After all, it's how Matt's gotten so good at his own game, figuring out the types of people he gets involved with.

After they exit the club, leaving a few drooling girls in their wake, Matt looks up to his victim; asking where they should go, what they should do, all while his hand rests on the arm on his shoulders and his other slips around the policeman's waist.

Jehovah looked to a parking lot half way down the block, then led Matthew in that direction, unlocking a big, new, red pickup truck. There are police lights sitting in the dash board and hints all over the truck that he's a cop. Why hide it? There's an empty clip in the floor board, handcuffs in the door pocket, a handcuff key and a skeliton key hanging on the rear veiw mirror.

"Where to?" He doesn't take anyone to his home unless they leave the residance dead....or unless they're Lucifer.

Matthew isn't exactly sure how to handle this situation. On one hand, Jehovah could just be trying to bust him for something. On the other, he wants a one night stand. It doesn't take any longer than a split second for the incubus to decide what is more important to him.

Now, I could be wrong, but Matthew ever pay for their drinks? Well, that just makes him a theif in addition to rapist and murderer, doesn't it?

"Anywhere. I don't care."

"Mm." He replies. No. Matthew did not pay for their drinks. Which means the bartender will probably put it on Jehovah's tab. That will piss Jehovah off latter, and maybe he'll hunt the kid down for it.

"Get in then." He climbed into the driver side and started the truck.

He drives safely, too quickly though. Over the speed limit by 20. But he can get away with it, he's a cop.

Where to go.....

Being hunted down would not be good for Matthew, definitely not. Oh well, he can worry about that later.

He does as Jehovah tells him, and looks completely comfortable in a car going at that high of a speed. Matt strives to look completely comfortable no matter what he's doing and he has the ability to pull it off.

"You know," Matt begins, "We could get you another pair of pants.." out of Jehovah's and into Matthew's?

"We could just let them air dry." Hotels are such a cheap way to go, but an apartment that no one uses and you keep mostly for hiding out in works. Especially since Jehovah can just stop renting that one and move somewhere else. He's got the money, the resources, the time.

He's driving in the direction of a fairly decent end of the city.

Such a wicked grin for such a pretty face. Good part of town means rich which means that Matthew can get out of this encounter a few dollars richer.

Ha! That's a laugh!

Matthew can probably get out of this more satisfied then usual. Jehovah's a mage who doesn't use his magic, he's got a lot of everything built up, Matt can feed. But it's doubtful that he'll leave with anymore then he came in with. Jehovah's a cop, remember? And he's not going to tell Matt that he doesn't reguarly stay in this appartment, nor that there is no cash in the entire place, save for whats in his back pocket.

He pulled up into a parking garage of a nice five story building and got out of the truck. Up the elevator to the fourth floor and unlocking to door.

"I don't have to bring you home by midnight do I?"

It doesn't matter how much Matt uses to become irresistable, Jehovah is still going to be Jehovah. And that's a crack on Matt's age.

Yes, that is most definitely good news. He might even take as much as he can and not worry about keeping this man alive once he gets a taste of the magic. As for the money in Jehovah's back pocket, we all know that the pants won't be staying on for very long, anyway, so why should that be a hinderance to the seductive thief?

"Heh, only if you don't want to sleep with me."

"Then your mommy won't be waiting up for you," he pushed the door open. The apartment is nice and simple. It's a studio, no bedrooms. The sofa was set up to devide the big room in half and give the feel of two rooms seperating a living room and a bedroom.

He shut the door behind him and locked it. Forgive him, call it a habbit. It comes from keeping people and hindering their escapes, giving him a few seconds to catch them. Not that any have come close to an escape yet.

His eyes narrow slightly, barely enough to be seen up close, when the door gets locked. It could mean so many things.

But back to acting. With an anticipating grin, he asks, "What's the matter? Afraid I'll run away?" His fingers tug on the hem of Jehovah's shirt.

Jehovah turned at the hem of his shirt being toyed with, green eyes moving down the other's torso first, then to the hands, and then back up. Even in this state theres still intelligence in his eyes, cop eyes. Murderer eyes. Careful and jaded and angry.

He looped his fingertips through the belt loops of the others pants and tugged him closer. "Afraid you'll run away more likely."

Matthew is quickly becoming lost to the prospect of sex in the near future. Close proximity and quickly mounting want is hazing his judgement, doing away with keen perception in favor of more pleasurable activities. His lips seek the policeman's and his hands strive to please.