absolutely no love in this club (Mack)

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Waiting around for things to happen had to be one of most uncomfortable feelings in the world. He probably should have just met her outside the dorms instead of leaving the note to meet him, here, of all places. But Down The Rabbit Hole was supposed to be fun. Fun and exciting and different and forbidden, and therefore had been on the top of Matt's priority list to visit for the past few months or so; he'd just never gotten around to it, honestly. There hadn't been time. Too many other things to visit and trouble to cause and fun to be had with friends of the male variety. You couldn't really visit a nightclub with your guy friends.

Matt cleared his throat once and shifted his position on the wall where he was leaning, beginning to chew his lip as he glanced around the street again. She should be here any minute now. To be honest, he wasn't even exactly sure how she was going to meet him, what with it being after curfew and all, but Mack had insisted she was good at sneaking out of things. He liked that about her. She was willing to have fun, at least, in all the ways that girls usually lectured him for. There was nothing wrong with sneaking out of the dorms two hours after curfew on a Friday night; New York was too full of adventure not to do things like that, and if someone really wanted to find something exciting to do, it had to be forbidden. That was how these sorts of things always worked. It was that sort of philosophy which had given Matt the uncanny ability to climb out of top-floor bedroom and dormitory windows without gaining a single broken bone over the past seventeen years of his life. Of course, Mack probably wasn't as good at it as he was. And she'd probably had to change her clothes too, or whatever it was girls did to get ready for these sorts of things. He didn't particularly care, but that could've been the reason she was taking so long.

Rolling his head to the side, Matt pushed off from the building and, after giving a particularly fancy looking husband and wife a death stare, began his slow walk to the other end of the block, which was technically where they were supposed to meet, as it was closer to the club and all. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying desperately not to chatter his teeth in the cool night air. Maybe he should've brought a jacket. It was with that thought in mind that he stood leaning against the corner of yet another theater of some sort (whatever it was, it looked old), shivering more than he would ever admit to himself, and wondering when on earth Mack was planning on showing up for this date. Well, not a date. Definitely not a date.

[MACKENZEE HEDGLEN]

So, sneaking out after curfew to meet your boyfriend-but-not-boyfriend was more work than they made it seem in the movies. Mack had to wait till her roommate (who was a nosy busybody) to fall asleep and then make her way around the room in the dark silently as she changed into appropriate club clothing. The miniature feather tutu would make climbing out the window difficult, which was why Mack opted to try the stairs. Not that she had much of a plan, but Mack figured she could talk anyone out of reporting her or sending her back to her dorm; she was good at that lately.

She utterly refused to think about Valko and how he played a part in her newfound confidence.

As it was, with her heels in hand, Mack slipped out of her dormroom, and down the stairs to the main floor. The security guard that made sure no one got in or out who wasn't supposed to wasn't at his station, and Mack cheerfully slipped out of the building, slapping on a bracing grin in the chilly night air.

Matt had better have a jacket.

It was a shortish walk to Broadway, where the club sat nestled between ancient looking theaters and other dinky old buildings, but to Mack it felt like one long runway. Heads turned, most of them males, as she strutted down the street like she owned it. In her head, Mack did. Each and every man, woman, streetlight and slab of pavement was hers, to walk on, rule and dominate. That she kept most of those men chasing her for more than a block only proved the point. However, their groveling soon got on her nerves, so she tried to put a stop to it.

"Ok boys, that's enough. The name's Kenzie, and if you htink you can handle me, the number's 554-7938, k? Now be good and go back to your girlfriends and beer, I'm sure they're pissed with you."

One guy, with a wicked grin and scruffy all-day shadow asked if she wasn't a bit pretentious, giving her number to a whole skad of guys.

"Don't worry hunni, I can handle it."

Down the street and two more turns, and Mack had made it to the corner where she was supposed to meet Matt. Good for him, he was standing right where he said he would be, though he did not have a jacket and seemed to be shivering. Mack huffed, and walked around him, towards the door.

"Come on, boyfriend. Let's get you inside before you freeze to death."

It was probably a bit harsh, considering she liked Matt and he was good company, but if you couldn't take Mack's newfound bitchiness, then you were better off far away from her. Like, far.

The guard at the door she flashed a grin and wink, before slipping into the door he held open. She wasn't particularly interested in how Matt got in, but he was a resourceful sort of fellow, so she was sure he wold figure something out.

But just in case...

"Don't let Ralphie scare you, boyfriend," she said, half-turning to gaze at them. "Underneath all that muscle, he's just a big softie." She grinned again, reveling in being able to say what she wanted and still getting her way.

Life was good.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

In truth, she'd scared the hell out of him. Matt had been lost in thought, staring at the countless light illuminating the street, imagining they were...well, he couldn't rightfully remember what he'd been imagining now. How could anyone, when someone walked right up and started speaking without giving any proper sort of warning? Not that he minded, really.

At first he'd hardly recognized Mack, only fully pulling out of the reverie when he'd heard her voice. He certainly hadn't expected her to be wearing that either, although the skimpy outfit would certainly do the trick. So she was pulling her weight in this whole thing after all, wasn't she? In truth, he was a bit surprised. The wicked grin he'd donned upon seeing her walk past him left instantly as she accused him of feeling the chill in the air (which was, of course, unavoidable).

"It's hardly cold," he said rather indignantly, increasing his strides so as to catch up with her. Once he had, he found himself staring at her legs, wondering not what was hidden beneath that skirt, but how exactly women managed to walk in heels of that size. Just as he was about to put words to the question, however, they were staring eye to eye with the club's bouncer. Well, perhaps not--the man seemed a bit more interested in the size of Mack's chest than either of their ages, and it wasn't until she'd slipped through the doors that the bouncer even cast Matt a second glance.

Matt shifted his feet a few times, inching his way towards the door as he began to speak "I'm with-"

His explanation--and therefore the other man's laughter--were cut short by the sound of Mack's voice once again. Feeling two parts agitated and relieved at her reappearance, Matt nodded once to the bouncer, grinned, and said "Right, well g'night, Ralphie," before slipping through the doors after his "girlfriend." Snickering at himself as he entered the club, Matt pushed his way through a few of the people loitering by the door until he found where Mack was standing. He grinned again as he approached, figuring he was doing a rather good job of not ogling at the club in wonder.

"You look nice," said Matt loudly, only slightly irritated at the pulsating beat of music in the background. His eyes found their way up and down Mack's body once before settling onto her eyes, although they could really only been seen every once in a while, what with the lights flashing the way they were and all.

Brown eyes making their way around the room again, Matt couldn't help himself as he caught site of a couple drinking in the corner. It looked fun enough. New, at least. The thrill of sneaking into a club was starting to wear off, he could feel it already. Leaning in closer to Mack's face, Matt touched her shoulder gently as he whispered into her ear, "C'mon, let's go get something to take the edge off," probably one of the dumbest lines he'd ever spoken but Matt hardly cared. It didn't even matter if Mack wanted a drink at this point; there was a sort of mischievous fire in Matt's eyes that quite probably no one would have been able to extinguish. "It'll be fun, I promise," and it would be. He knew that without a doubt already.

Turning away from her then, Matt made his way towards the bar without checking to see if she'd followed. The questioning look from the skimpily-clad bartender went right over his head as he hesitated, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted. "I'll have...two of those," he nodded in the direction of a man taking shots. He paid the girl with a grin (forgetting to tip her in the process) and turned again to face Mack, holding out one of the glasses for her to take.

[MACKENZEE HEDGLEN]

Shots, really? Mack scoffed as she accepted her drink. When she had agreed to sneak out of her dorm and hit a club with him, she had actually thought Matt knew what he was doing. Looking at the drink in her hand, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking a sip. Now that they were in the club, it all seemed a bit boring. There were people dancing (or trying to) really loud music and some others sitting at the bar drinking themselves sick. There really wasn't anything interesting going on. "What else is there to do around here, then? Just drinking and dancing?"

Not that dancing was a bad idea. A few of the older guys even looked a bit interesting. With the alcohol rolling down her throat, Mack was starting to feel a bit adventurous.

"Just how much trouble are we planning on getting into, actually?"

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt watched as Mack took a sip of her drink, his brow furrowing only momentarily at her scoff. Still, he nodded at her thanks, shrugging before downing his glass in one sip; the stuff burned like hell. He was pretty sure he made a face as it went down, but then again, she probably hadn’t noticed.

Shrugging at her question, he took his own glance around the club once more. She was right. It was horribly boring in here, when one just stopped to sip a drink and think about it. Stuffy and loud and crowded and filled with women whose makeup was caked on so thick it could have been scraped off who were being followed by men who looked so drunk they probably wouldn’t remember their own names in the morning. But then, this was also the sort of atmosphere where one could get into a hell of a lot of trouble, if only they had the inclination to seek it out. Thank the Lord Matt had been born with that sort of knack.

He laughed, turned to look at Mack and shrugged again, this time while smiling. “A bit more than you want to, I’m sure. So just the right amount,” he paused then, swallowing hard to clear the burning still stuck in his throat. “Why? Got any ideas? I’m open to suggestions.”

[MACKENZEE HEDGLEN]

Kenzie downed the rest of her drink and smirked at Matt. So he'd never had a drink before, eh? She'd keep that in mind, maybe bring it up later.

Be careful what you wish for, shorty," she murmured, leaning closer to tuck her shot glass into his front pocket. "How about we spread the fun all around, yeah? Be a good baby and distract that bartender for me?"

Kenzie turned and walked away, sauntering through the crowd and probably gaining more attention than she needed at that point. Not that she cared. Attention was good, especially for what she was about to do.

Around the bar, near the employee entrance area, Kenzie hopped up onto the counter and spun around to the other side. A few patrons nearest her gave loud whistles as her legs passed, but Kenzie only smiled. "You boys want some drinks?"

She looked around, still smiling, to see where Matt had gotten off to. She wasn't sure why, but she got the feeling letting him go off by himself was a bad idea....

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt watched her hand as it placed the now-empty glass into his pocket, only biting his lip a little bit as her fingers brushed against his clothing. Upon hearing Mack's request, Matt snapped out of it immediately. So she did want to cause trouble. This was going to be fun after all.

Although he couldn't help the momentary flash of annoyance at being ordered about, Matt brushed it off relatively easily, simply pleased enough that she wanted to wreck havoc in the first place. "Now that's too easy," he grinned mischievously, turning away from Kenzie before he could see exactly what it was she was doing.

Nodding at the bartender again, he pulled Kenzie's shot glass from his pocket and placed it on the wooden surface of the bar, sliding it towards her with a grin. "Think you could get me another two?" she smiled at him this time. It was after the third shot that Matt began to feel..well, he felt really great, actually. Apart from the feeling that the inside of this throat was flaking off, that was. He smiled wider at the girl tending the bar before making some stupid comment about her eyes looking like light bulbs, which warranted a giggle from her and something about him being a bit of a lightweight, whatever that was. If this feeling was being a lightweight though, he was beginning to think he might want to be one more often.

Still grinning rather ridiculously, Matt pushed his way off the counter before bidding the girl behind it good-bye. "I gotta gosee 'bout my girlfriend," he shrugged nonchalantly, hardly aware of the slight slur to his voice. "Nice meeting you though, Suzie," she hadn't even told him her name, he didn't think. But she did look like a Suzie. He turned then, eyes searching the bar for wherever the hell Mack had gotten off to, suddenly feeling as though another drink would do him good. Maybe a beer or something. Beer was fun, wasn't it?

[MACKENZEE HEDGLEN]

Of course Matt had to be half passed drunk when she finally spotted him. She waved a bit at him, hoping he'd see her and come closer. "Come over the bar, let's serve some people."

She turned to a prospective customer with a grin. "What can I get you, sir?" Not that Mack knew what the hell she was doing. Of course not, since that would completely negate the 'get-in-trouble' part of this adventure. She picked a random bottle up off the shelf behind her and half-filled his cup, then plucked something from the bar underneath to fill the rest.

She hoped it wasn't too awful, and if it was, oh well! She didn't work here, after all. And the poor guy should know better than to come to a club solely to get drunk. There were so many half naked women in here that it was practically approaching porn status. Not that Kenzie was about to help matters, with the plan forming in her head. Now all she had to do was wait for the right time.

"You don't have a rap sheet, do you?" she asked Matt. It really wasn't the smartest time to do so, since they were already causing trouble, and he was more than a little sloshed. But whatever, it didn't matter. She'd handle whatever came their way.

Though she sort of wished Matt wouldn't be drunk for it. How did he expect to get back to his dorm undetected? Hadn't he thought of that?

Why was she thinking of that? That was the old Mack, woorying about curfew and getting caught and records and whatnot. Kenzie didn't care about any of those things. Whatever happened, happened.

Like tonight. And it was going to be good.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Seeing Mackenzie waving in...well, it sure seemed like it was his direction...Matt nodded her way and straightened up, sauntering towards her with the same stupid grin on his face he'd given the bartender minutes before--Scarlet, he thought her name had been.

"Say," he began, hopping onto the counter rather more awkwardly than Kenzie had earlier. "You the one that called in for backup?" The smile still plastered on his face, Matt swung his legs over the bar, spilling one particularly grumpy-looking man's drink into his lap. "Whoops," he laughed before tossing a rag from behind the counter into the customer's face. "You should uh--you should really watch where you put your drinks, you know," he noted to the man, who was muttering a particularly nasty string of swears under his breath.

Matt was just about to retort with a significantly more hot-headed comment when he heard Mack speak to him again. "What? No," he replied, rather offended she'd even ask such a thing. The knitting of his brows grew looser after a moment, however, and he chuckled, as if he were mocking anyone dense enough to suggest he'd ever been caught. "Can't get one if no one's ever got you," he added, sure the sentence made more than perfect sense.

"Why? You scared?" taunted Matt as he cocked an eyebrow her way; he reached under the bar and grabbed a glass at random, filling it almost to the brim with a strong-smelling somethingorother that was probably better drank in small quantities. He took a small sip of it, made a face, and then slid the thing down the bar towards a woman who hadn't been paying much attention. "'S on the house," he called, waving away the confused look on her face as he turned back towards Kenzie.

[MACKENZEE HEDGLEN]

Mack snorted with amusement. How'd he get so drunk so fast? They'd been there for maybe fifteen minutes, and he was already slightly unsteady on his feet. Mack rolled her eyes, and turned to the other side of the bar. "Not a chance, sonny. If something can scare me, you'll probably die from it." Come to think of it, that statement hadn't made much sense either; maybe she was drunker than she thought.

She grabbed a glass and a bottled of something from under the counter, and saunteered over to a group of men having a rowdy get together near the other end of the bar. With a smirk, she put the glass down, meeting the supposed ringleader's eyes. "Tell me when to stop," she murmured, pouring the tangy smelling drink out and not watching its progress. What she was thinking of next involved her, the bar, this man and a lot less clothing than she had on now, but that was fine. They had snuck out to get into trouble, hadn't they? Plus, she was relatively sure she would be safe from pretty much anything; Valko couldn't afford for her to get hurt, she knew. So her smirk grew to a full out grin, broken only when she leaned forward to whisper in the guy's ear. "If you're up for it, I can make this a whole lot more interesting."

She turned to see what Matt was up to, hoping he hadn't gotten himself into too much trouble. Absently, as she set the bottle down, she wondered where the actual bartenders had gone. Sure, back here was huge, much larger than she thought it would be, but they couldn't very well just disappear, could they?

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

"Not if I'm the one scaring," Matt said with a rather dumb grin, hardly noticing that Mack was probably too far down the bar ot have heard him properly, let alone respond. He turned away from the girl with a shrug, pulling out another interesting-looking bottle from under the counter and taking a small swig straight from it. "What?" he snapped suddenly at a girl sitting a few seats down the bar who was looking at him, slightly confused.

"You don't work here, do you?" she had one of those really obnoxious, airy voices. The kind of voice Matt quite adamantly believed couldn't possibly be natural. He simply stared at her for a moment, eyebrow raised as he assesed the authenticity of her voice, before responding with a shake of his head and an easy "Nah. But the person who was is boring," it hardly crossed his mind that such an admittance was a potentially back idea. Shrugging, he watched the girl get up and walk away without a second thought, turning back to pour some of the bottle out into the glass she'd left behind and slide it across the table to another customer.

Where the hell was Mack, anyway? Matt turned a full circle on the spot, stopping in his tracks the moment he'd spotted her. What was she doing? Those men looked gross. And not at all like enjoyable company. Abandoning his post at the other end of the bar, he moved in Mack's direction as casually as he could muster (which was not at all, for he was now beginning to feel a very small, rude sort of thumping in his head, and it was rather distracting), leaving his bottle of liquor abandoned about halfway through the journey. "Hey, Mack," he called out in between small bursts of laughter, "Some girl just asked if I worked here. Can you believe that? Oh, hello," the grin fell off his face for a brief moment as he turned to face one of the men Mack had been talking to seconds before; of course, it returned in seconds.