Plagued! The Party

Plagued
The Party

Cutler Kingsley felt the blood rush to his temples, a light blush beginning to spread itself across his high, porcelain cheeks. He knew exactly what he was about to do- and was slightly terrified. Good lord, he was behaving like a shy young virgin. Probably Madeline would be less afraid than he. Yet he doubted that the second he thought it; Madeline would have quailed at anything more than a kiss. He remembered the way her large eyes had widened in horror as he related to her what men wanted, really wanted, and how he had been abruptly cut off by Mary Ann's frying pan. The pain still burned in the back of his head, and he grinned mischievously, shuffling quickly across the crowded floor of the dance hall.

The many-skirted dresses of women pressed up against him as he excused himself unabashedly, shouldering his way through a chattering group and stealing a drink from the tray of a serving boy, whose backside he slapped playfully. Before the lad could do more than start in surprise he was halfway to his destination, which was obscured by the dance floor. He gracefully stepped in and took the hand of a bejeweled woman, who made a slight noise of shock but seemed flattered as he held her close, dancing his way to where he meant to go. He kissed her hand and winked at her slyly as he crossed the threshold, turning and taking off at a jog from the waltzing throng of people.

And there he espied him- at the back of the room, gorgeously clad in the prime of clothing, all in gold, his deep brown tresses curling atop his fair face. Cutler felt his heart begin to pound even faster than it already was at the sight, and nearly chickened out- but no, this was what he had come to do, and he would not back out now. He was a man. He steeled himself, squaring his shoulders, and went up to him, where he seemed to be conversing with someone.

"...just as I had predicted, he has quit all of those detestable practices."

"And what is he up to now?"

"Oh, only the Lord knows- probably the usual, flirting vigorously with what sex he prefers, and taking them abed as he pleases. You know."
"That....slightly sickens me, if I may say, sir."

"As it does me; but let us not speak of such matters at this joyous occasion. Look, there is Madeline!" He pointed, and Cutler, hanging back from the two men, turned to look at the heavenly vision at which he gestured.

Yes, it was Madeline, and she seemed grown up somehow. She wore a light pink dress, and her bright blonde curls spilled down one shoulder, a bow holding up what was left on her head in a tidy-looking pile. Her eyes, those innocent pools of blue, were even wider than what he deemed normal. But, then again, what was normal these days?

Cutler quickly butt into the conversation, sliding smoothly in front of Jameson's field of vision. He started as he recognized the masked villain that stood tall in front of him, his evil grin giving him away completely.

"If I may, good sir," he stated simply, taking his arm and leading him away from what angelic figure surely stood searching for him. Jameson stumbled along at his side, altogether unwilling, yet after a while stopped his fussing and simply followed dejectedly. Cutler hid him behind the farthest of pillars, where nary a soul had gathered to gossip in fervent whispers.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" the smaller man hissed, glaring at him viciously.

"Now, now, let's not get angry, my dear," Cutler commanded, nearly shoving him up against the marble structure, as close to him as space would allow. It was dark in the back of the party- shadows hid them well from anyone's sight. He looked down at the handsome fellow, whose hands were held in an iron grasp by his own behind his back. The pirate took a moment to savour the look of irate fear in his prey's eyes before leaning down and, in one smooth motion, pressing his body against his, and his lips as well.

Jameson gasped audibly- and attempted to resist, but lasted only a few moments. He soon turned to mush under Cutler's lustful powers, his lips begrudgingly returning the fiery embrace. His hands Cutler released, and the shorter of the two took the opportunity to slap the ever living heavenly daylights out of his assailant.

"BLOODY HELL-"

"Shut up." Kingsley was bent over with the sudden shock, hand tentatively touching the side of his head that had been so brutally smacked. Jameson looked round, adjusting his rumpled coat before turning back to the thief. "What in God's everlasting name was that about just now, and don't you dare give me any of that 'It's my nature' poppycock."

"Well, to be fair, it is-"

Jameson stepped on his foot. Cutler looked skyward, mouth open in pain. George seemed to just notice that the fiend was wearing a mask, and stripped it from his face savagely, revealing the fair visage it had covered. "How is it that you never look awful, ever?"

Cutler was knelt on the ground, massaging his injured toes with a look of reproach and confusion. "If I told you, 'It's my nature,' you wouldn't happen to-" he dodged another blow, alighting from the clean tiles gracefully to his full height. "Really, is that the best you've got, now?"

"To be fair, I incapacitated you twice."

"I learned."

"Slowly." He studied him, brow furrowed.

"What?" Cutler asked, his stance like that of a statue of a Greek god.

"You're strange."

Cutler smiled mischievously, like a child. "You liked it."

"I DID not." Almost as if the thought reminded him, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his coat sleeve, eyes caught in the party ahead.
"You, you know...want some more?"

"Good heavens, no." He turned abruptly, arms out in front of him, predicting another attack as Cutler took a step forward. "And DON'T you dare sneak up on me again."

Disappointed, Cutler returned to his former place, a dejected look taking hold of his fine features. "I suppose I just imagined that you were kissing me back, then," he mumbled, hands in his coat pockets, pretending the floor was incredibly interesting and filled with mystery.

"I-I," the other spluttered, already red face taking on the hue of a lobster. “I was just playing along so that I could escape.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“You sound like a sulking teen.”

“Of course.”

“Now you’re simply being obnoxious.”

Cutler shrugged glumly. “It appears to be all the same to you. Though I don’t completely understand how a little girl can best my beauty.”

Jameson started violently. “THAT’S what this is all about?!” he reeled, arm making an astonished swoop over his head.

“What did you presume?” the pirate retorted cynically, chuckling. “I figured that by now you would have noticed. Didn’t Maddie already say something to you?”

George scowled. “I prefer to be the only one calling her by such a name. And she has said plenty. I just figured you were messing around-“

“But you TOLD me not to give you any ‘it’s my nature’ business.”

“OH, for heaven’s sakes.”

“Heaven is in need of sakes, these days.”

“Is there ever a time when you are not babbling so?”

“Who’s babbling?” Both of the men jumped at this remark, turning towards the source of the question, who stood with her thin arms akimbo. He couldn’t be sure, but Cutler could have sworn she wore almost a scowl, as though trying to hide her jealousy and annoyance at his presence with her beloved. He smiled inwardly at the thought, regaining his former, proud posture.