Now that she knew that WAS Methos, the music seemed all the sweeter. Live always sounded different than recorded, and she'd never been to one of his concerts before. She'd never been to many concerts at all, really.
He left the stage and meandered through the club, but his path was decidedly aimed. Danika's heart raced.
He finished the last of the song, singing directly for her. She thought she was going to melt off her chair and clump into a blue puddle on the floor. She would be the darling of the club now, but she didn't have eyes for jealous bystanders. She only has eyes, and a big grin, for Methos.
She clapped and cheered when he finished. "I'm Danika! Danika Zayed! And that's a - um,"
oh no! What was it called? "Quinine! No Galaxy. Sorry! The Galaxy. Probably because of the fluorescence!"
The pianist followed Methos as well, and Danika hardly noticed the poor guy. But next to a heartache like a rock star, how could anyone stand out?
Her friends were going to die!
((Moving the party is good with me))
Methos laughed at the girls sudden lack of tongue. He plucked the drink from her hand and set both of them down on the bar. The bar tender already had his tab and knew how he intended to take care of things. It was something Adam set up before he sat down to drink with Bradley. It made life easier. He waved his hand to clear the tab but he didn't stick around for the bill.
Methos put his arm around the girl and pulled her along with him while he took Bradley's hand when his husband slipped it in from behind. It was not quite as obvious.
"Come with us Anton, the party at the Ritz will be fabulous. Women, music, and of course drinks."
Methos took Danika with him out the front door where his limo awaited. "Danika my dear would you care to join us?"
Bradley was already climbing inside . Methos held the door for his young friend. She would be the talk of the town.
Every single pair of eyes in Manifesto stared at Danika and Methos. She couldn't believe she was escorted by one of the most famous musicians alive. Now if he grabbed her and kissed her in front of the paparazzi, she would know it was a dream. This kind of thing just didn't happen to her. Rubbing shoulders with a Nobel laureate, yes. But drinking with rock stars? Absolutely not.
Once they were outside, her legs prickled in the chill night air. The limo looked inviting and she yearned to sink into supple seats.
But the glow of the club, pop of flashes, and cheers of those in line recognizing the great Methos kept her from following.
She pulled a slim Wallet from her handbag. "Can I have a picture with you first? Nobody I know will believe this."
She shyly handed the wallet to Anton, oblivious to any awkward position she might have put him in.
The girl hesitated. Methos wondered what would be running through her mind. It wasn't everyday that you got to party with a rock star. She was the envy of the entire club - all the rich and power of Moscow had just been passed over for a night with this one lone girl.
She asked for a picture and Methos nodded with a wide smile. "But of course, my darling Danika. But of course."
Methos pulled the girl in close to his side with her arm around her shoulders. The air was cool in the evening, but at least it wasn't the dead of winter.
"If you wouldn't mind indulging the lady, please Anton."
Methos gave his new friend a wide practiced smile. It would be the perfect memento for the girl... he only had to sign it later and it would be authentically unique.
Anton followed them out, but he had no plans of going much farther. It was getting late and he was feeling a bit buzzed. The swimming emotions of those around him were getting difficult to deal with. Thankfully he found an easy out.
The girl wanted a picture and Anton was happy to indulge. He took the offered wallet and snapped the picture, handing it back.
"Unfortunately, I cannot stay.
he said, offering a smile. "Performance in a little over a day. Have a wonderful time!"
Lost in the whirlwind that was the crowd outside Manifesto, bolstered by the swarm of people in line to enter the club pressing as close as possible to Methos, Danika could barely keep her tongue about her. Her smile was wide and goofy, her expression playful and coy, as she leaned into the crux of Methos' arms. Her friends were going to die.
As far as the invitation went, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She didn't need to work tonight, and what a way to celebrate the publication of a field-rocking paper but with an actual rock star.
"I'm in!"
She bit her tongue between her teeth and slipped into the limo, posting the picture of herself and Methos on every account she had as she did.
Methos slide into the back of the limo saddened that Anton had taken his leave of their party. Too bad for him Adam supposed. Inside the limo Methos dropped the guise, right now he was just Adam Turner - nothing more than a country boy living it up. Methos propped his arm on the back of the seat and pulled a bottle of champagne about of the cooler.
Bradley laughed. "Ms. Danika is celebrating tonight. Something science related."
Methos nodded. "Science, huh? I'm sure it's over my head darling, but I'm interested none-the-less. Tell us the tale while we travel to the real party."
Adam added a fluted glass to his guest and one to Bradley before sipping on the golden liquid himself.
[[ Next post I'll move to the Ritz Carlton on the Kremlin board ]]
The quickest way to a scientist's heart was to ask her to discuss her research. Offer her a limo ride and champagne and a willing ear and she will never shut up about it.
Danika spoke at length about the Ilustris Project like she was giving a platform presentation. She talked about her time in Munich and the fellowship that inspired her current line of work. As time passed, however, she descended into the depths of technical language. She discussed dark matter and the strange particles never before seen. But really, her passions lay in the study of dark energy. She coined the term "dark flows" and talked about the wave-like energies that permeated the universe. She talked about how she used Einstein's theory of relativity as a basis to derive her new equation using the cosmological constant to study dark energy. Since she's had enough to drink by then, she admitted her desire for the equation to be named after her someday.
"Zayed's equation. God that has a good ring to it."
It was extremely poor taste to admit such a thing to one of her peers, or even to acknowledge it when another scientist suggested the honor. But she hoped it would come to be. Almost as much as she craved a Nobel Prize.
By the time the limo reached its destination, she had no idea of where they were, so engrossed in the tale as she'd been. So when she looked out the window, her brows rose high with a gasp. The Red Square loomed far and wide. The Ascendancy's monument was brightly lit, a black smudge against the red walls of the Kremlin.