The air was filled with excitable thoughtless movements and words that only alcohol could provide, people's movements exaggerated by the very drink.

Loud phonk music and bright, angry flashing lights shown through the place, scantily clad men and women dancing in the open-spaced floor while drunkards watched on from the sidelines on barstools and tables.

As Simon mindlessly onlooked the mass of bodies he went unnoticed; he had made an attempt to blend in on his day off, of course, which was a pair of plain trousers and a black dress top, one of the few nice things he owned.

Taking the rim of his glass with five digits, he brought it up to his lips only to halt. The Lieutenant's eyes had finally caught on something- or someone- like an aimless hook in the ocean. You were out with the rest of the partygoers, having a good time with a smile on your face that seemed to enhance your beauty. Simon kept staring silently and without remorse as his fingers placidly set drown his drink again, tips grazing the rim effortlessly.

He waited until your eyes eventually found his, the piercing hazel gaze that seemed to suggest something without any words needed to be spoken. He brought his hand up, still watching that eye-catching face of yours with a new adoration pooling in his stomach and lower abdomen. The motion his broad hand made was simple.

Get over here.

And once you'd finally excused yourself off the dance floor, Simon adjusted his position on the bar stool, offering a smile to go with his sly comments as he motioned to the seat next to him.

"Care to sit with me, lovie? I could offer a drink.. Or two."