I still remembered the day I met her, in the park, shortly after she punched that unfortunate looking fellow in the face for attempting to come near her. She'd been hard to miss, to say the least. Especially considering the crowd she had managed to attract as a result of her self-defence display. It would be a lie, I suppose, to say the first thing I noticed about her was anything other then the way she'd managed to snap a man three times my size in half. It was...respectable, my early fixation with her, well, lets just say it was mostly physical, after all- until her that was essentially what I spent the vast majority of my life attempting to achieve and yet maybe I have her complete determination to ignore me, or at least, to simply be friends to blame for actually being forced to get to know a woman entirely before I slept with her. I was always friendly, I was always polite, I always cared about the women I was with and remained in contact with rather a lot of them. What can I say? I'm personable- but Kat? That was something else entirely. The first woman I had ever truly had to work for, perhaps the first one to ever make me doubt my previously undoubted skill with the fairer sex and hell, maybe I needed that. Maybe I needed to remember what it was like to truly want someone or something, even if the result of that was an entirely different level or worry that kept me up all night wondering if she was going to come home, worrying about her every time she took too long to answer her phone or men looked at her in a way I didn't like. It's my first real girlfriend, well, since I was 17 and had that disastrous three days with the girl from the volleyball team whose name I don't even remember because I'd decide to spend most of my time with a rather attractive netball player. Either way, I suppose, well, I'm not used to being worried or...jealous. It's new to me and even though I understand her job and why she does what she does, it doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm not sure what's worse, desperately desiring someone, or desperately worrying about that same person when you do have them. I don't regret it though- the sex is far too good for me to ever regret it. What? Her own words echoed much the same thing a moment later as I chuckled by way of response. I suppose we had been doing things far more important then car talk, although I wouldn't mind attempting to combine to two.

I think I might have managed a frown as she bit down on her bottom lip in a manner I find rather exceptional on such an attractive woman, the blue gold of my gaze lingering upon every curve of her form. Maybe I have seen and experienced her body rather a few times- but I never got tired of it, she was exceptional, every part of her and really, I still had rather a lot of things I wanted to try. I still owed her for the last time after all. No, I haven't forgotten. As for her response to my knowledge in regards to the rather.....unique French activities I knew I simply offered her a shrug with callous ease.

"I consider myself to be a man of culture."

What can I say? It's true. Maybe we never did talk about my previous experiences before Kat- and why should we? But at least I have some knowledge to share in perhaps the one area in which she lacks and I rather enjoyed having that little bit of hand above her on occasion. I was man enough to admit she was significantly better then me in almost every other area involving anything physical. Like jogging- a meaningless sport, or boxing in which I am rather assured the only thing I have ever managed in that regard is to break my hand or be knocked down by that....large thing you punch....whatever it's called. I consider myself entirely modern enough to stand on the side and hold her handbag while she works. Not that I've ever really seen her carry a handbag either. Hmm, I might have to ask about that. For now my attention turned to Kat herself as I asked why she had pretended to have never been to Paris. Maybe I was born to high society, but the things men talked about and the things women talked about were evidently entirely different, my features frowning slightly as I lent further back in my seat, offering the occasional direction. Playing the system? Alright, maybe men are a little clueless some times, my eyes widening slightly at her explanation. I mean, I suppose it made sense, really, even if I was rather oblivious to this game of politics that had apparently occurred right in front of me. Although why Kat seemed so determined to have Elena like her I hardly know, quiet for a moment as I considered her words.

"She is bossy, I'll give you that, rather the ice-queen really although I promise she does not dislike you entirely, if she did she wouldn't have spoken to you at all. I...owe her I suppose, for helping me when I was younger, for giving me somewhere to stay when my father's company broke out in civil war after his death, but- I don't always appreciate the way she treats people, I suppose. She can be...overly harsh sometimes. Especially if she detects a fashion crime."

I allowed my eyes to roll slightly, Kat seeming a little...tense I suppose, my words attempting to relax her a little, speaking of her grandmother seeming to distract her from Elena and her often overly blunt opinions, simply nodding, storing the information. Like I said, I'm surely supposed to know these things about my girlfriend, aren't I? Her words about my own parents however earned another slight chuckle, arms folding behind my head in further contentment, having come to the decision she was unlikely to kill us both with her semi-reasonable driving skills.

"My sister and I were raised by a nanny, I barely saw my parents unless it was for some event where we were required to be photographed together and pretend to be happy. I did however, still have parents and while I am not sure how they should have acted in relation to others peoples parents- they were still there, it was something I suppose."

Kat didn't have the same and while maybe mine were absent at least, back then, they had still been alive and I suppose I can appreciate that and remember the small moments in which either one of them managed to find a moment to remember I existed. Her laugh brought a somewhat lopsided grin to my lips all the same, finding myself actually curious of her answers. A look of genuine surprise alighting my features once more.

"Hotdog is your favourite food? Are you...sure?"

Questionable meat was her favourite food? Really? I'm not sure I've ever even seen her eat a hot dog and yet I am rather assured I can remember that for later. As for me, well, I hadn't exactly anticipated being asked, head tilting slightly in contemplation.

"I suppose it would be grey, well, charcoal to be exact- everything goes with charcoal, I don't really like animals at all though I don't totally hate wombats if only because I am sure I can outrun them, as for food, well- it's probably chocolate of any kind."

Anything else I had been about to say was abruptly cut off by her agreement to my car idea, one eye lifting ever so slightly in appreciation.

"I'll schedule it in, I'm not sure how far these seats go back, although really I think your entirely flexible enough to make my idea work. Besides, there's always the hood of the car."

I felt my lip quirk upward once more, the car well out of the city limits now and heading further into more open country, lips parting to speak once more before Kat's deliberately whiney tone managed to reach me, a snort of sorts released.

"Right here. Now right again, right once more."

I'd done no more then taken her around the block and right back to the ridiculous mansion we'd already passed, one eye lifting slightly in challenge now.

"Now where here."

Maybe next time she'd think twice about challenging me to the 'are we there yet game' the gates swinging open automatically to allow Kat to drive in and along the rather long driveway and gardens set to either side, the river flowing along for the length of the drive way before pooling into a rather large lake behind the overly large house- even my apartment barely capable of filling up the foyer alone. One of Elena'a many servants already at the stairs to take the car as Kat pulled up. A servant I recognised.

"Your still here, Phillip?"
Yes sir, nearly forty years now. Elena and Etienne are in the courtyard just finishing up with the shoot for spring, they are expecting you in a half an hour but have asked me to direct you to the western wing so you might freshen up. This way. Joseph will park the car.

Freshen up? I never have understood that phrase, in fact it seems to be a distinctly feminine one. Maybe Kat understands it. I gestured briefly for Phillip to lead the way even though I was rather assured I knew where the west wing was, knowing our luggage would have probably already appeared there by now before stepping up and into the foyer. The marble floors were as polished as ever, the foyer sweeping out in all direction, room after room visible within the folds of the vastly expansive mansion. The white and grey theme of the place unchanged since I had last been here, everything neat and polished and clean to within an inch of it's like as we ascended the first staircase, making a left before heading through the double doors that lead to the entire west wing, an apartment of sorts- within the mansion itself as Phillip paused.

Elena has removed anything you might find unacceptable, the entire wing has been renovated to remove any lines, tiles or unclean edges as she understands they distress you, Kohl. The bedroom is through here, the bathroom and spa is through here and there are two reception rooms, formal and informal.
"Who are we receiving?"
You are humorous as ever, sir

I hadn't actually attempted to be funny, Phillip managing to scowl all the same before strolling back out and closing the doors behind him. It was an honest question, what did we have one receiving room for, let alone two? I rolled my shoulders in a shrug all the same, kicking my shoes off a moment later to stroll barefoot across the plush white carpet and towards the giant four poster bed. Someone had opened the bay doors that led onto the terrace outside, the afternoon breeze rather pleasant- yet not nearly so pleasant as the bed itself as I allowed myself to fall back onto it, hair mused in every direction before leaning up slightly on my elbows to face Kat, blue gold gaze finding her own now, humour tainting each word.

"Evidently we have half an hour before we are required to appear, I know of exactly three things we can do in that time- would you like to hear them? Number one, we can unpack, which seems very mundane but practical, number two, we can climb down that terrace and hit the vineyards below and the wine cellar I am sure I can still break into- because god knows I could use a drink or number three we can enjoy this rather exceptional bed for exactly....twenty three minutes. Your call."







k o h l
so you want to play with magic?