Olive was quite right: this Blue did have a very fine form. Zhenya took his time looking him over as Olive introduced them, his expression absolutely devilish. That is, until his new friend turned her gaze back to him, and a cherubic mask replaced it.

She’d asked him to shake Blue up – by the looks of it, he’d never been properly shaken in his life. Nor bumped, nor bounced…Zhenya was more than happy to accept this challenge. He smiled sweetly.

”Anything for you, krasotka,” he pronounced, as if they had known each other for ages, and not minutes. He patted her hand on his elbow before she withdrew it, her eye caught by what Zhenya could only assume was her own conquest for the night. And he was right.

He usually was, about such things.

As Olive disappeared into the crowd, Zhenya leveled Blue with an expectant look. Appraising. Like him, Blue had downplayed this threat of dancing, as if it were merely a favor for a friend. But the Russian fairy had not missed the way his eyes had followed them out onto the floor, and he had not missed the color high on his cheeks…and he certainly wasn’t oblivious to all this body language. His eyes followed Blue’s fingers through his hair. It looked like good hair for grabbing.

”Mmm. Drink first, I think. Two, for you,” he said with a wink, and hailed a server with a collection of drinks. It wasn’t champagne this time, but it was the next best thing – something amber-colored and viscous, swirling around large, flawless ice cubes. He took three, and handed one to Blue, reserving the second for the moment he’d finished. ”But you will not keep me from my word. Promise is promise.”

As for his own, he sipped it slowly, watching Blue over the rim.

”You seem nervous,” he observed at length, cocking his head with a smirk. ”You do not go to many parties, I think. Shame. Everyone here is enjoying to look at you.” He exchanged the empty drink for the fresh one, setting the spent glass deftly on a tray as it passed. Then he finished the last half of his own in one easy swallow, and held out his hand.

”Walk and drink?” It was not precisely a command, but it did not sound like a question.