Reficul Venus

Preliminary Partnership - Part I

Music blasting, lights everywhere, drinks upon drinks, and tons of men flirting with the tons of women dancing. It was a normal night for the visitors of Shinigami. The club was popular despite the fact that it was fairly new. The owner, Reficul Venus, sat at the bar across from his fellow felon friend, Grell Sutcliff. Each one staring at the other with little, if any, real goals in mind. 

"Tonight is a bit lacking," Grell sighed as he poured himself another drink before offering one to his boss. Should the bartender be drinking whilst working? This bartender simply didn't care, neither did Reficul. The two weren't humans, so why should they live by human rules? They were 'taking a vacation' from the routine of things without any intention of overstaying their welcome. At least, that's how it started. But now Grell wasn't sure what Reficul was thinking, (not that he ever did).

"I take that back, you have a visitor," Grell gestured his glass in the direction of the door. A woman, blonde and beautiful, stood there with a famous aura about her. She was a new and upcoming singer: Irene Diaz, former theater fanatic. She'd gotten attached to Reficul and changed careers on a suggestion he made. Simple enough, no? She owed him a favor but it looks like she was going to be requesting another one. 

"Oh my, is she back for more?" Reficul grinned from ear to ear, grabbing the drink out of Grell's hand and downing it before turning around. Forget about the fact that he was offered one and refused it, it was much more fun to take other people's toys. 

"Hey!" Grell frowned, snatching the glass off of the counter. "That was just plain evil." 

"I'm the Devil, sweetie, what do you want from me?" 

"Reficul, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Irene smiled, walking over after making eye contact. 

"Indeed it has," he replied. "What brings you here, darling?" His green eyes (with a pinch of yellow) glistened as the lights flashed. The horrid music in the background made it a bit difficult to have a conversation. She would, no doubt, ask to move someplace else. And he, no doubt, would take her upstairs. 

"I've just come to talk," she brought her hand up to his shoulder and ran it down his back. Her words said one thing but the look on her face said something entirely different. Talking, of course, would lead to something else and the two would end up in a long night of scandalous affairs. Scandal in all sorts of ways. Wasn't she engaged? Well, she wasn't wearing a ring and since when did it matter to him? He returned her smile and grabbed her hand. 

"Then let's talk, shall we?" he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "But in a more private location." Reficul grabbed Irene's hand and guided her to the flight of stairs to the elevator leading to his humble abode. The club was down bellow while the living arrangements were up high. Made living a bit more simple in the long run. Not to mention, it made getting laid fairly easy too. However, that wasn't a problem for Reficul in the first place. With his handsome looks and devilish charm, life was as easy as it could be. 

He was halfway up the stairs when he noticed a much more enthralling individual in the corner of his eye. Dazzling blue hair and a beauty-mark. Dressed far too formally for this club's atmosphere. He was laughing with a stranger and sipping a non-alcoholic beverage. Really? In Shinigami? You dare to not drink? Ha! How amusing... "Oh, hello," Reficul's eyes glistened. "Don't think I've seen him before."

"Reficul, sweetie," Irene grabbed his chin and turned his attention back to her. "Shall we?" 

"Yes, yes, shall we shall. My apologies," he said, continuing to guide her. 

...

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, holding Irene's delicate figure in his arms. 

"Well, I think," Irene ran her finger along the scar on Reficul's chest. She looked up at him with a twinge of fear resting in her eyes. "I think I'm going to die tonight." 

"Die? What makes you think that?" 

"My husband to be... he is a bit... how do I say this? Protective? I think he might know about my nightly activities. If he doesn't try to kill me, then he might try to kill you." 

"Me?" Reficul chuckled. "Don't worry about me. I doubt the likes of him could scratch my skin." 

"This is serious, Reficul," she sat up and hugged herself, trying to provide comfort that no one else seemed to grant her. She shivered, the air touching her skin, and began to sob. 

"Now, now, don't cry," he sat up as well, pulling her close, but she shook her head and stood up, grabbing what clothes she could. 

"I have to go."

"It's late and you don't feel safe. You should stay," he advised. 

"No, no," she shook her head more furiously. "I'll put you in danger. I have to go. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die without taking you with me." 

"How kind of you, really, but please don't be concerned about me. I can take care of myself." He stood up and threw on some pants and a shirt, determined to follow her. 

"Please, Reficul," her voice cracked as her dress gently slid down and covered her body. "Please just, let me go?" 

"Ire-" 

"Hush," she placed a finger to his lips and adjusted her shoe before going to the elevator. "Thank you for everything." 

"At least let me call you a taxi?" he followed after her. 

She sighed, smiling slightly, "If you insist."