Melanie: amazing!

That was the best, actually the best French style meal I've ever had! And that's kinda obvious that it should be because we're in Paris. But seriously, best seafood platter ever. And I don't even like seafood that much. And the French wine... Was dead expensive to be honest, but we weren't planning on eating like this everywhere. We do have a budget. But hell was it worth it! In any case, Erica was calling for something or other every five minutes, just to oggle the waiter. Okay, he was very sexy in a very French way so I can sympathise with her this time. And thanks to a brilliant secret plan we have wrested Ethan's flawless timepiece of doom from his wrist! No schedule tonight!

Lalala, where are we going again? Oh, we're still in the queue for the club. We only chose the most crowded one because the best music was coming from it. Or rather it was the only place that was playing music in English that we recognised. Someone would have some sort of culture comment there about mingling with the locals but really, I don't want to be in a dark room surrounded by people who speak none of my language and I may or may not need assistance from later if I get lost or drink too much. So we're queueing, and Erica is getting on very well with the small posse of English speaking French guys who've gathered to chat with her. She's dressed to impress and is therefore gorgeous right now. Ethan is... moping somewhat. It's just a watch, he'll get over it. Sparx is checking his hair. Again. I'm... queueing. Just queueing.

Okay I'm not just queueing, I'm glancing sideways at Sparx every ten seconds or so. Be fair to me, he cleans up well. I say well. I mean Oh, mygod, when he makes an effort to look good, does he ever look good! Kinda bad that this may be the first time I've ever seen him in clothes that look fresh though... Is that just a guy thing? I'm pretty sure Ethan wears clean clothes virtually all the time. Does Ethan count as a guy in this context? Whatever. Point is. Sparx=Fit.

Oh! Head of the queue. ID, we're in. My skirt's not too short, my top's not too low, my shoes are suitable for dancing. Let's rock.

"Oh my god 'Ca leave the guys for a sec! We love this one! And PUT YOUR HANDS UP FOR DETROIT! I LOVE THIS CITY!" The bass is oh so good. The floor is heaving, the lights are psychedelic, hands in the air like I fricken don't care!

"Ethan! What are you doing?" Sparx calls over the thumping beat.

"What am I supposed to be doing? The music is far too loud, it'll damage my ear-"

"Dance, Ethan dance!" I'm grinning like an idiot while giving him a perfect demonstration.

"Betcha if he had a girl he'd dance with her! Come on Ethan, we're gonna get you a ladyfriend." Sparx grabbed him and manhandled him off to find a suitable woman. I looked for Erica but she was already making new friends on the dancefloor. Which left me a little bit alone...

But you know what? I didn't care a bit.


And the best bit is yet to come!

The End

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