You and I Would be The Stars (Morag, casual)

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

Sitting in the low-lit bar, Zander tossed back the shot in front of him with a low grunt. It had been a long, long, long day, which was saying something when one considered his usual day was long. On a typical day, he faced down Japanese investors, dodged board members, tackled R&D, signed off on new patents, and even went to the odd meeting...

But shopping with not one, but both of his sisters, and his mother... he’d take a normal high-powered work day over that any day of the week. Oh, he loved them dearly – or so he kept reminding himself as he followed the three women from store to store, carrying bags and offering opinions. Mostly, he’d sat in the waiting chairs, watching as they trotted out new outfits and tittered amongst themselves until they had a decision on which five they were walking out with. It made him wonder how he had been coerced into going instead of making Jeffry do it. He normally handed off these tedious things to him, but...Well, it was what it was. By the time he’d dropped the girls at home, it was after he’d treated them to dinner, carried their bags up, and been tricked into an impromptu fashion show.

To say he’d earned a quiet drink in a less than posh bar where no one was going to know him was more than fair.

He’d been through three shots before finally switching off to a glass of Bourbon to nurse for a while. Sitting at the bar, he cupped the glass, looking around aimlessly, taking in the people around him. Most of them were the kind that you looked at and never thought about ever again. He’d expected that. What he hadn’t expected was for someone to catch his eye. The beautiful red hair, the light colored eyes, and her height...she was simply stunning. Zander watched as she gracefully moved, coming up to the bar not far from where he was sitting.

Now, he saw a lot of girls, knew a lot more in ways that he was too polite to bring up, but most of them were just blurry memories. That was the difference, though. She wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t sure how old she was, but she was much closer to his own age, a real woman. Oh, he was intrigued. So who could blame him for pushing away from the bar and making his way over so that he could lean against the counter beside this woman? He took a sip from his glass, setting it down to look at her more closely. She only became more beautiful as he took her in.

“You know, I’ve been standing here drinking for a spell, but just looking at you is far more intoxicating than the Bourbon,” he offered, Louisiana accent roughened out by the shots. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for the honor of buying you a drink and perhaps basking in the glow of your company?”

There, let no one ever accuse Zander Devereux of being shy.

[MORAG MACBETH]

It had been a tiresome evening. There was the show, of course, which was emotionally draining enough - having her head chopped off every night, how could it be otherwise? - but since that night was the show's twenty-fifth performance, the director had insisted on a small backstage party. Everyone had made an effort to dress up, Morag included - it was the perfect excuse to wear that new DKNY dress she hadn't been able to resist in the New Year's sales. Everyone dressed up a bit too much, but it was a good excuse for it. When the party was finished, Liam, who was playing Knox, insisted that the party continue and so he, Morag and a couple of others from the small cast had been bar-hopping for an hour or so.

Morag didn't tend to drink an awful lot, contrary to what one might expect, but what she did like to drink was generally tough stuff - although the whisky here was nothing in comparison to its Scottish counterpart that she'd had the occasional illegal sip or two of back in Glasgow. She wasn't drunk yet, or even terribly tipsy - although the same couldn't be said for Liam. The other two had insisted on helping him get home, and so at last Morag was alone.

She could easily have called it a night and gone home too - that would have been a sensible plan. But she didn't want to go home yet. Tommorow she had the day off - no rehearsals, no matinees, no evening show - she wanted to make the most of this opportunity, this night. If she went home she would be back to reality - the frustration at Jim Campbell's arrest and fears of the ADA's closing in on the drug ring, worry about the consequences of Duncan's murde-

No. She wasn't going to think about that. Not now. Acting and the theatre was how she tried to block out the past, and the downfalls of the present - she wanted to see just how well she could make the illusion last off-stage.

Liam and the others had left her just outside their next intended bar and so, with an airy shrug as if to say 'might as well', Morag entered the less than reputable establishment, still in all her finery. She and the other actors had made quite an impression in their glad rags and it was very obvious, from all the looks she was receiving as she walked up to the bar, that this impression was continuing to be made. It was flattering, really, all this attention, and while others would have been embarrassed or insulted with all the, often unwanted, attention, Morag found she was enjoying herself, even if some of the comments she received were less than savoury. It had been some time since she'd been out on the town like this, and she was determined to enjoy it.

It was as she reached the bar that she became acutely aware she was being stared at. She'd had people looking at her once then looking away again all night, but she could feel this particularly intense gaze, even as she stood there. She considered looking around to catch the eye of whoever it was before deciding against it, more focussed on deciding what she wanted to drink - besides, if whoever this person was wanted to talk to her, they should have the guts to do so without her having to prompt them. Hmmm, maybe laying off the whisky would be a good idea...

“You know, I’ve been standing here drinking for a spell, but just looking at you is far more intoxicating than the Bourbon. Would it be too forward of me to ask for the honor of buying you a drink and perhaps basking in the glow of your company?”

Morag laughed, lightly. Oh, this was just fantastic. This was evidently the man who had been staring at her so determinedly, since the feeling had intensified with his approach, yet she chose not to look and see who the man was just yet. Smirking to herself, she made her reply.

"I would say ye wis being tae forward," she said, coquettishly pushing a strand of hair behind her ear with her left hand, giving the man ample time to notice her wedding ring. "But since ye would consider it an honour, it would be wrang of me tae refuse ye."

She turned to face him then, small smile still in place, a smile which widened slightly as she took in the appearance of the man standing next to her. He was a handsome devil and no mistake. She was all too aware of the ring on her finger now this man was watching her, but she had ignored its significance before. She could do that again. Think of this as character development, for the play. Mary's married to Darnley, yet she engages in an affair with Bothwell...as if this whole situation didn't feel unreal enough.

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

Her laugh was both soft and very enticing. He had to admit that it was just as nice as the packaging. Then she started playing with her hair – a clear sign that she was interested. Oh, he could read women. Any sign, any hint, any...wedding ring. Well then, if she thought that was going to hold him back then she’d clearly never been wooed by a Devereux man before. He would have scoffed had he not wanted to put forward a good impression. Perhaps he’d save the scoffing for when she actually looked at him and then tried to tell him she wasn’t married.

"I would say ye wis being tae forward. But since ye would consider it an honour, it would be wrang of me tae refuse ye."

Alright, so she spoke gibberish. He could deal with it. He’d had dates that were worse. At least he caught a few of the words and could assume the gist, which was much better than the Spanish woman he’d gone out with last year. She was impossible to understand.

“Well, it’s not often I run across women worth such an honor,” he replied, silently taking notice of how she took him in – the way her eyes moved across his face, her smile widening, her eyes lighting up.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy sharing a drink with this woman.

“So, what’s your poison? Something tells me you’re not much of a martini girl. How about a Bourbon?” Zander asked, gesturing with his own drink.

Admittedly, he was ahead of himself on the drinking game, so perhaps he’d just hold his drink and talk while she caught up to him. Either way, he was sure that he’d enjoy himself.

[MORAG MACBETH]

”Well, it’s not often I run across women worth such an honour,”

Under ordinary circumstances Morag might have rolled her eyes and protested at the man’s theory – really, a man like him must come across ‘women worth such an honour’ on a near daily basis - but as it was she was enjoying this encounter far too much to try and mess it up by undermining the compliment she had been given.

“You’re too kind,” she replied, simply. He was, but that wasn’t to say Morag minded. Quite the opposite.

”So, what’s your poison? Something tells me you’re not much of a martini girl. How about a Bourbon?”

Morag had to admit she was surprised at, and impressed with, how well the man appeared to be reading her. Well, he had only assumed her preferred choice of alcohol but he’d hit the nail on the head – she wasn’t one for cocktails, shaken, not stirred or otherwise. Although she had tried some American whisky since she’d come to the States, bourbon was one she had yet to try, and she told her companion so. Having looked at the man’s drink as he gestured with it before looking back at him once more, she replied,

“Bourbon…that’s one I havenae tried before. But something tells me tonight’s a night for trying new things.”

She gave the man a quick wink having said this – she couldn’t help it, that last phrase she’d uttered had been too perfect. Think of it as an acting choice.

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

“You’re too kind.”

“Not at all,” Zander replied, letting his grin do the talking for him.

Oh he had come across someone who appreciated all those manners his mother had drilled into him. He’d be sure to tell her the good work paid off eventually. And even if she was married, he was enjoying the way she smiled right back at him, even going as far as to wink suggestively at him as she spoke.

“Bourbon…that’s one I havenae tried before. But something tells me tonight’s a night for trying new things.”

Which all translated to: Blah blah blah, blatant sexual innuendo., blah blah blah, give me alcohol. He may not have understood every word, but he could certainly read the signals.

“Oh, I am sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” He gestured at the bartender. “Barkeep! One of these for the lovely lady.”

He could see the man roll his eyes, but Zander paid no mind to it. He got that an awful lot. He had better things to pay attention to, like the lovely creature he was sitting with. Hmm, it suddenly occurred to him that he really didn’t have anything to call this lady.

“I’m Zander,” he introduced, holding his free hand out to her in greeting. “And what name does such a beautiful woman like yourself go by?”

He knew it would be just as striking and different as she was. Probably something that would feel strange on his tongue as he said it.

[MORAG MACBETH]

“Oh, I am sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

As Zander turned to the bartender, Morag couldn't help but smile to herself. This man seemed to be quite the catch - handsome, well mannered and he didn't mind her being so blatant. Then again, not many people did.

“Barkeep! One of these for the lovely lady.”

Morag was sure she was blushing now - which was most uncharacteristic of her. The fact that this was the situation that incited it only made her feel even more strange but nevertheless she accepted the drink the bartender gave her would good graces.

She then turned back to face the man with whom she was conversing, smile still firmly in place.

“I’m Zander. And what name does such a beautiful woman like yourself go by?”

Morag took Zander's hand and shook it with her usual strong grip. She didn't like to be perceived as weak simply due to her sex, as was so often the case, and this was one of the many ways in which she illustrated this dislike.

Zander. It was an unusual name - Morag hadn't met anyone called Zander before, or indeed heard of it before. An unusually charming name for an unusually charming man.

"Morag," she replied, releasing Zander's hand having spoken. "But I'm sure ye'd be more familiar wi the name Morag Macbeth, actress."


ooc: 'Which all translated to: Blah blah blah, blatant sexual innuendo., blah blah blah, give me alcohol.'

THIS. XD Oh my goodness, I laughed so hard at this, you have no idea! Brilliant writing here m'dear!

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

My, she had a firm grip. Zander could appreciate that. He didn’t like it when women were falsely meek. It was ridiculous and deceiving. He always preferred honest women. They were much more interesting.

"Morag, but I'm sure ye'd be more familiar wi the name Morag Macbeth, actress."

An actress. She was more delectable by the moment.

“Actually, I’m not,” he replied, taking a sip from his drink. “I’m afraid I’m terrible with names.”

It was the truth. He was terrible with names. The names he couldn’t remember, he made up for people. Like Driver, his driver, and Jeffry, his assistant. Who knew what Jeffry’s real name was? His mother and sisters he remembered, but that was just because he’d grown up with the constant reminder of what their names were. It was the same with the family’s first house keeper – Mrs. McCallum. Mrs. McCallum number two had a name he could never remember, either.

“But yours is lovely, Morag,” he offered, repeating her name over and over in his head so he wouldn’t forget it that night. Tomorrow was anyone’s guess. “And an actress? I’m not surprised. You exude confidence.”

One of the things that drew him to her. Women who could put him in his place were more attractive than the simpering ones. He was sure she could act, too. After all, she hadn’t bothered to tell him that she was married. No, she was playing the part of a married woman who wasn’t complaining about his attention. There were no cries about a husband, after all, even if she had blatantly shown him the ring on her finger.

“What do you think of the Bourbon?” he asked, hoping he had hit the mark. Women were always much more impressed when one could tell what she favored.

OOC: *bows* I thought you would like that, haha. Zander's inner monologue makes me laugh, too.

[MORAG MACBETH]

“Actually, I’m not. I’m afraid I’m terrible with names.”

Morag was surprised, but not offended. She had only been in a couple of Broadway productions so far, and Mary Queen of Scots was not one of those performances. Besides, she was sure Zander would remember her name after this encounter, however terrible with names he professed to be.

She took a sip of her drink as Zander did, admittedly surprised at how much she enjoyed it. She had a tendency to be overly critical, but that was part of her nature. If you were going to do something, you should do it right. Whisky, Scottish or not, was one such thing.

“But yours is lovely, Morag. And an actress? I’m not surprised. You exude confidence.”

Morag laughed again. You exude confidence...what a thing to say! It was true, and she very well knew it, but it amused her that Zander had simply gone ahead and said it. He certainly knew how to appease her confidence - even after the five minutes or so they had been talking, Morag was sure her ego had grown a considerable degree.

"I try," she replied, having taken another, larger, sip from her glass of bourbon. "Ye're nae so shy yourself."

“What do you think of the Bourbon?”

Morag smiled.

"It's nothing compared tae whit ye'd get in Scotland," she said, pausing a moment to allow her teasing to sink in. "But for American whisky, its nae half bad."

So saying she raised her glass to Zander, as if toasting him, before downing what remained. She needed the alcohol if she intended to take this further.

Having put the glass down on the bar, she addressed Zander again after a brief pause.

"So, you ken whit I do for a living but whit you get up tae is a mystery tae me. Tell me, whit does a handsome devil like yourself do when he's nae skulkin' around seducing women in bars?"

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"I try. Ye're nae so shy yourself."

Zander smiled into his Bourbon. She had no idea how confident he could be. He had been an only child for his first ten years on this earth, one used to getting his way. He was well aware that he was confident. He’d had to be. He was the heir of the family, after all. He had to push himself to be out front and bold. It served him well in life. Still, confident and boastful were two entirely different things, so he didn’t comment.

"It's nothing compared tae whit ye'd get in Scotland, but for American whisky, its nae half bad."

He didn’t know about that. He’d been to Scotland and got smashed on the stuff, but Bourbon just had a special place in his Louisiana born heart. She seemed to enjoy it, seeing as how she just downed it and slammed it down onto the counter the way she did. She was a very...intriguing woman. He hadn’t met one that peaked his interest since what felt like forever.

"So, you ken whit I do for a living but whit you get up tae is a mystery tae me. Tell me, whit does a handsome devil like yourself do when he's nae skulkin' around seducing women in bars?"

Handsome devil...oh, he liked that. He was quite handsome, after all. She knew just how to stroke his ego.

“Well, I generally spend all my time sulking around. Finding women worth seducing is a rarity,” he replied, returning her smile. “However, I get paid for running my family’s company. I’m CEO of Devereux Industries.”

And didn’t that just make him sound rich and pretentious. Not that he minded, but some women did.

“Essentially, I babysit one of the biggest companies in New York, the eastern seaboard, the country, etc.,” he summed up, thinking that if he were to look at it that way, Jeffry would be the real head of the company. Hmm, he’d have to give him a raise.

“That’s why I enjoy sulking around these places so much. Which begs the question – what brings you here? I thought actresses frequented fancy places with fourteen dollar drinks.”

Normally CEOs did, too, which was why he was avoiding that kind of place. Maybe he had her reason right there, but it was always a good place to start.

[MORAG MACBETH]

ooc: Sorry this has taken so long Tens - please forgive me! D:

bic:

“Well, I generally spend all my time sulking around. Finding women worth seducing is a rarity. However, I get paid for running my family’s company. I’m CEO of Devereux Industries.”

Oh, so not only was this man polite and handsome with a good taste in alcohol, but he was rich as well? Then again, what had Morag expected? Most of the low lives she consorted with could never look as good as Zander did if they tried - somehow it was always the wealthiest people who looked the most beautiful. They were the ones who could afford it.

Deveruex Industries - Morag was certain she had heard the name before, and even seen an advert of two for the company on television, on the rare occasion she found herself watching it. That wasn't to say she understood what the company did, but really, did that matter at this point?

“Essentially, I babysit one of the biggest companies in New York, the eastern seaboard, the country, etc. That’s why I enjoy sulking around these places so much. Which begs the question – what brings you here? I thought actresses frequented fancy places with fourteen dollar drinks.”

Morag laughed. Ordinarily that was the sort of place she would go to, but Liam and the others didn't have the same amount of cash to splash as she. Although she could easily have treated them that night and taken them elsewhere, they were already tipsy when they left the theatre, and Morag was in no hurry to have her privileges at certain higher class bars revoked due to the rowdy behaviour of her cast mates. Besides, it was fun to do something different every once in awhile, as she not so subtly informed Zander.

"Well," she said, with a coy smile. "It's guid tae try something different every once in a while..I'm sure ye'd agree."

It may have been flirtatious, but Morag truly meant it. This wasn't merely a game for her now, a foolish distraction from her reality. This was her escape from reality - she was in character, she was someone else. Who knew where this would lead?

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"Well, it's guid tae try something different every once in a while. I'm sure ye'd agree."

Zander nodded with a small smile of his own. Oh, she was quite charming. He was used to having women all over him. He was rich, he was charming, he was one of the most eligible bachelors in New York. However, he loved the attention, and to have someone as different and pleasant as this Morag paying him that attention was pleasing.

“Oh, I most definitely agree,” he replied, taking a sip from his drink. “Variety, as they say, is the spice of life.”

And hopefully they would add to each other’s variety. He could definitely appreciate doing something new with her, or even something old that was new between them. As long as they could understand each other. Her accent was thick, so he had to interpret as he went. So far, he was sure that he was doing a fine job – he had considered being an actor when he was a teen, after all. Of course, his father had squashed that dream with a brochure to Harvard and prepaid admission, which was probably for the best with his lack of memory for names and people...but it wasn’t important. What was important was where he was now and who he was talking to. Had he been an actor, he may have known her before now, but he was willing to take what he could get.

“And you aren’t like the other women I’ve met. I must say, it’s a rare treat when I meet someone so interesting. How about you tell me more about yourself?”

After all, he did want to know. Say what you would, but he wasn’t completely shallow. He adored himself, but he adored many other things, too. He especially loved women, and they deserved all his attention.

[MORAG MACBETH]

“Oh, I most definitely agree. Variety, as they say, is the spice of life.”

Morag nodded as Zander did and, as he took another sip from his drink, she furtively signalled to the bartender to refill her own glass. It had been a bit silly of her to down it like that, but she couldn't deny this bourbon of Zander's was excellent. She followed Zander's lead as she picked up her refilled glass, making sure to take a more moderate sip from it this time around. She wanted the alcohol to last - just like this encounter.

“And you aren’t like the other women I’ve met. I must say, it’s a rare treat when I meet someone so interesting. How about you tell me more about yourself?”

As good as Zander's compliments made her feel, Morag was unable to help a sharp bark of laughter at his describing meeting her as a 'rare treat' and her own person as 'interesting'. Granted, this was doing wonders for her ego, but Zander surely couldn't be sincere in his words - surely he said these same lines to every woman he met? Yet even as she inwardly scoffed, Morag couldn't help but undermine this disbelief - Zander didn't appear to be acting, and she would know if he was.

"Weell..." Morag began, wondering just how best to phrase her words, and, indeed, what to say. She could easily make something up, stay in character, and yet there was something about her conversation with Zander so far, something about Zander himself, that made her feel unwilling to lie - to act - in front of him. She would honest - but economical with the truth where need be.

"I wis born and raised in Scotland - Glasgae, if ye want tae be specific about it. It wis alricht growing up, but it wasnae the same after that." She paused. She wasn't about to divulge all that had happened to Zander, yet for all her acting there was a slight shift in her demeanour which indicated her discomfort in recalling the past. "There wis nothing for us there, my husband and me, so we used what money we had at the time tae move here - chasing the American Dream, ye ken?" She laughed, back at ease, back in character.

She wasn't sure if that was the sort of thing Zander had wanted to hear - the bare bones of her life story - but as much as she was enjoying flirting with this man, there were many things she wanted to keep a secret.

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"Weell...I wis born and raised in Scotland - Glasgae, if ye want tae be specific about it. It wis alricht growing up, but it wasnae the same after that. There wis nothing for us there, my husband and me, so we used what money we had at the time tae move here - chasing the American Dream, ye ken?"

Husband. Husband was something he’d never managed to be, so he really couldn’t say much there, except that he wasn’t impressed with her husband if he was letting this woman make friends all over town with men like him. He supposed it could be her fault, but one never knew, and accusing a woman of anything wasn’t going to be getting him anywhere. Instead he focused on her yammer and tried to make heads or tails out of it.

“I actually have been to Glasgow,” he told her, remembering his travels as a teen right after high school. His year of misadventure, as his sisters liked to refer to it.

And what a misadventure it had been. He’s been through every foreign country he could find on a map. He’d drank foreign drinks, ate foreign food, and slept with foreign women, and despite what one crackpot inspector had to say, no foreign men. He’d partied, puked, and done everything he could to get into trouble. By the time he’d come home, he was worn out and ready to settle into being an adult. He wanted nothing more than to join an airline and fly every day, but instead he’d gone to Harvard and here he was.

Well, he supposed at least the view was nice.

“As for the American Dream, I do suppose you’re in the right country for that to work.” He grinned a bit, taking a sip from his drink, noting he was going to have to refill it soon. “You seem to be on the right track – Americans do love their actresses and actors.”

It was true. Rather than paying health care practitioners or fire fighters, they dolled out millions on actors and actresses for entertainment. It was one of those things that he wasn’t so sure was a good idea, but who was he to change the status quo?

[MORAG MACBETH]

Zander didn't seem to see anything amiss in her demeanour or her words, which suited Morag very well. He had asked the question, she had answered it, they could move on with the conversation. She took another fortifying sip of the bourbon before fixing her attention on Zander once more as he spoke.

“I actually have been to Glasgow. As for the American Dream, I do suppose you’re in the right country for that to work. You seem to be on the right track – Americans do love their actresses and actors.”

Morag laughed a little at that, smiled and then nodded in agreement. Since she had never had any other job but acting, and had only been doing so for a few years now, she wouldn't have considered herself by any means star material. And yet almost every night after Mary Queen of Scots there would be a queue outside the stage door of people wanting pictures taken with her, or wanting her to give them her autograph. She couldn't deny she loved the attention.

"Aye, that I do believe," she replied, sagely, taking another sip from her glass. It was as she did so that she noticed Zander's own glass was rapidly emptying. She signalled to the barkeeper once more and gestured to Zander's glass; the man filled it up and Morag gave him a wee wink and a smile in return. Then,

"Might I ken just whit ye were daein in Glasgae? Whit's your story, Zander?"


ooc: I hope its OK Morag decided to get Zander's glass refilled m'dear - I thought it'd show her exerting her dominance etc etc, 'cos that's what she does. XD If not, I'll edit. ^^

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"Aye, that I do believe."

He smiled, enjoying the sound of her laugh. His smile turned wry when she had his glass refilled. He normally wouldn’t have allowed that, often wanting to show off his skills by buying the drinks, but Morag wasn’t the kind to just sit back and let him show off. Clearly, she was just as much in charge as he was. And from what he’d already learned about her...he was willing to let this go where it would. After all, that was half the fun.

"Might I ken just whit ye were daein in Glasgae? Whit's your story, Zander?"

Ken in Glasgow? He didn’t know any Ken in Glasgow, but his memory for names was something that a lot of people didn’t put any reliability in, so he supposed that he could have met and forgotten a Ken in Glasgow. If that was what she was asking at all. He needed a translator. At least he understood the second part of her speech.

“My story is very long, but I’ll stick to how I ended up where I did.” He took a sip from his drink, looking at her over the rim. “I was born in this very city, but raised in New Orleans. I come from a wealthy home, so when I graduated from school, my parents agreed to send me around the world to blow off steam before university. I saw many places before finally spending Christmas Scotland and New Years in Ireland. It was quite the treat before settling in for college.”

He would have mentioned that he had drank himself into such a stupor that he barely remembered a lot of his trip, but that wasn’t part of the story in his mind.

“I think I may have ingested every drop of scotch anyone set in front of me. Since then, I manage Bourbon and that’s about it.”

He chuckled a bit at his own foolhardiness. He’d been quite the bull headed youth, thinking himself invincible.

“I’m sure you saw a lot of my kind meander through like idiots,” he offered. “You probably charmed your fair share of them.”

He got the hint – she didn’t talk about herself much, had tried to distract him into his favorite topic – talking about himself. Now, he’d have to find safe topics. That, or they could just drink all night.