Dynamite-y Aphrodite


In one quick glimpse she takes a good look at her next victim-broad, strong shoulders; willowy but sturdy torso; tanned and toned arms beneath rolled sleeves-before tilting the edges of her crimson lips and leaning forward in her stool to reach across the granite counter. "I've decided something," she begins loudly to the tall man tending the bar. Intelligent gray-blue eyes return her flirtatious leer as he turns around.

"What's that?" he asks over the intrusive buzz of the bass from the speakers behind him while fixing a drink for the man beside her. She takes a drag on her cigarette as she finds that she is rather pleased to see that he is not quite surprised by her sudden interest in him, but something in the back of her mind tells her that she'll have to work harder than usual. He's a bartender; he's no doubt seen everything the book. Her smile broadens. She's a goddess of love and beauty; she'll have nothing to worry about.

She exhales after a moment, fixating on his eyes with her own very clear ones. "I think I'll try something new tonight."

"What do you have in mind?" He slides the shot down its recipient, all the while maintaining that precious eye contact. Minako runs a hand across her shoulder and rubs it, relieving some of the tension building in her body. It doesn't hurt that her orange dress's thin strap slides down her upper arm a bit at the touch, but she smoothly returns the troublesome thing to its place.

"I want something... explosive."

"I've got this really great new drink," he offers, breaking their gaze as he points to the fifth item on the bar menu. She grins at the title.

"The Neopolitan Dynamite."

"It provides quite a bang."

She nods. "With a name like that, it'd be a crime not to. I'll take one."

Her bartender pulls the top off of a blender and pours the contents of a few bottles into it before dropping several cubes of ice into the mix. He shuts the lid and in a moment the blender vibrates and booms in a tumultuous and turbulent storm of white, tan and pink.

"It looks like that boxed ice cream they sell at the grocery store," she shouts over the noise.

"It'll taste like that boxed ice cream they sell at the grocery store, too. Hence the name."

"Ah," she breathes in understanding. She raises a manicured brow and brings the cigarette to her mouth before pressing it into the ash tray in front of her. This one was a little more difficult than most, just as she suspected. But, of course, she liked a challenge.

After several seconds, he pours a bit of the drink out of the blender and strains it into a shot glass. She watches the milky mixture swirl as it fills the clear glass, it's creamy composition seeming... almost tame, quiet. Reserved. Not something she'd ever associate with dynamite.

"This looks like something my friend Rei-chan would drink."

"Don't judge it until you've tried it. You'll find that first impressions, in this case and many others, aren't everything," he replies, his eyes boring into her own. It is almost staggering to her, how deep those eyes are. She shakes her head and attempts to gain control of the situation as he passes her the drink, never once breaking their trance.

She is in a trance. That is the once word for it. The smooth drink slides down her throat as she knocks her head back, the long blond locks reaching for the floor.

And then she returns, her eyes widening as she feels the intensity of that little creamy drink kick in. She sees shining, luxuriant stars and her eyes roll back into her head, reeling from the pleasure... she wants to jump, to dance, to strip, to fuck...

If Ami knew, she'd probably say it was...

She gasps and leaps on to the counter, knocking over the rum and coke her fellow barhopper beside her had been stewing over. Her bartender simply stares at her as she grips his shirt collar, pulling him closer to her slender frame.

"What... on earth was... in that?"

Startled, he attempts to loosen the clench around his neck with his large hands. "Just some Bailey's irish cream, strawberry creme liqueur and a hint of creme de cacao."

"You didn't drug it?"

"Of course not!" He appears almost affronted at the accusation. She releases her death grip on him and smiles sweetly, falling back into her stool. "What makes you think I'd do that?"

She shakes the blond hair out of her face. "I saw stars. I don't ever see stars when I drink." Gotta put that final bit in there, of course, she thinks with a secret grin.

He breaks out into a hearty chuckle and shakes his head, his bountiful blond hair waving with the movement. "You know, you never fail to amuse me." She bites her lip-anything to keep you entertained-and blushes. She still watches him through her long lashes as he takes an order from another customer.

The heat in her face signals a shrill alarm, and as it blares in her mind, she almost swoons. Almost. She's still in control of their little game, after all.

"Well then, Naka-san, I'll take another," she orders after a while, sitting almost completely straight up as he returns his attention to her.

"Coming right up, Aino-san."

He turns to the blender, and she stares at him, unable to discern the meaning of a sudden pang in her chest--I want to lose control with only you-as she rests her chin in her palms, her fingers curling around the fair skin. Blond hair pools on the bar counter.

A/N: Naka Hisoka = Kunzite's current incarnation, fyi.