The far end of the room opened through huge glass doors to the expansive manicured gardens beyond tiered decks, all lit with elegant string lighting and accompanied by a huge pool, another open bar, and bountiful more seating.  In strategic locations, concert speakers washed the entire area in the classical composition from the indoor stage.

9:15 PM

The party had only begun a few minutes ago, and as of yet the outdoor area was sparsely populated.  A few of the younger socialites had already migrated out there and were stradling the deck chairs near the pool, and a few smokers were loitering about, but not many people took notice as Ophilia and Vincent DiSantiago emerged from the Grand Ballroom.  His arm was draped in a casual manner over her shoulder as he guided her to an area that wasn't very well lit.

Stone kept one eye on them as he sat at a table tucked down at one end of the first deck tier.  From this point he could watch the gardens without being bothered by the hoity-toities who'd invariably move to the upper decks.  He sipped his Bud longneck and smoked his Marlboro and wondered what movie rentals the hotel room television would offer.

From his perch, Stone could tell that Ophilia and her cousin were involved in some sort of disagreement.  It was also evident by her defensive posturing that she was being apologetic and was likely guilty of whatever had caused the discussion.  It didn't last too long before the stiff posturing of confrontation subsided and a more comfortable air settled over them.  They seemed to be negotiating about something, and in realatively short order, Vincent seemed to be completely molified.  With a final wag of his finger and a gentle tap tap to her cheek, Vincent headed back into the ballroom, his off center swagger from earlier conveniently back in place.

Ophilia remained shrouded in the darkness for a few moments, leaning against the wall.  She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.  It was too cold to be outside in her sleeveless dress, but she braced herself against it for a good five minutes before following the sweet melody from the orchestra back into the ball room. 

9:30 PM

Over the next several minutes the garden area began thriving as more of the party goers found it.  The young and elite crowd seemed to have some unspoken invitation as they all knew exactly where to go.  Their volume level was already drowning out the nearest speakers as they let loose to have some fun.  One handsome man seemed to be leading the pack, with an open bottle of whiskey that he was using to generously dose his friend's drinks with.  Other than him and his two closest buddies, there were five girls that seemed to be at the center of the pack, all of them were at least pretty and smelled of money.

For the most part people streamed in and out of the ball room with little notice, but on occasion there would be a few that would stand out or make a statement.  The next woman that strutted through the glass doors did just that.  She was wearing a vivid red dress that had obviously been made custom for her.  Her light brown hair hung loosley around her shoulders and her extravegant jewlery glittered under the soft lighting.  She paused dramatically before taking that final step into the gardens, an opportunity to scan the crowd as she tried to ensure that everyone knew that she was in the house.

Her eyes lingered on the boisterous crowd on the decks and she waved in return to a few of them that were gesturing for her to join them.  However, instead of joining her friends, she walked over to the out door bar and ordered a drink.  It was a large fruity concoction, much better suited for a sandy beach than a Hudson City winter.  After flirting generously with the bar tender and getting an extra umbrella and cherry for her drink, she turned her attention on Stone.  There was the briefest pause as she gave him a once over, before she pranced over to his table.  She struck a bit of a pose with her drink held loosley in one hand as she awaited his invitation or recognition.

Stone's sunglasses tilted as he looked from the retreating Ophilia to this new ruby intruder.  He let his gaze linger upon hers while taking a drag and exhaling.  For her part, she didn't seem to mind.  He liked that.  Unnecessarily shy women just bored the hell out of him.

After the tension of the past couple of days he was tempted to just walk up to her, give her the vibe, and say, "Let's go."  She had a look to her that said she just might actually do it, and they did have a little less than an hour before the big whatever.  It could be done, he thought while thinking of the room key card in his jacket's inside pocket.

But then again, he'd be leaving Luke by his lonesome in this shark pool and the whole reason for his being here was to watch the guy's back.  Not only that, but Ophilia would likely have a canary if she found out. 

"Nice night," he offered to her instead with his stoic reserve just gently softened.  He gestured to the other chair at his small table as an invitation.

"Oh.  It is."  Her tone was both enthusiastic and matter of fact, as she placed her drink on the table.  She gave the chair an expectant look, but didn't sit down.  She was obviously the high maintenance sort that didn't know how to pull out her own chair.  "...and it just keeps getting better."

Stone found her expectancy amusing.  He didn't get up.  Instead he took a pull from his bottle and asked, "How so?"

Her eyes danced merrily as she pointed one of her slender well manicured fingers at him and gave him a content smile.  "I know a lot of things.  ...but what I don't know, is who you are and how you managed to crash Daddy's party with not one but two gangs of bikers"  Her content smile turned into a devil be damned grin.  "...ooooh, and Baby will be beside herself!"  She rubbed her hands together in glee.  "What a nice night, indeed"

"Daddy?" Stone repeated, his brow furrowing for a moment.  Then his eyes rolled behind his dark lenses and he said, "Oh...you're one of them.  So which one are you?  Sleepy?  Happy?" 

The lady in red, gave her hip a jaunty thrust to the side as she placed her hand upon it.  "Oh...aren't you rich."  She shook her head in disbelief as she looked at him.  "You really don't know who I am." 

There was a slight pause on her part and he couldn't help but see the cunning intelligence that lingered behind her blue eyed gaze.  "I'm Jennifer DiSantiago, Angelo's daughter.  ...and he just happens to be the one funding Baby's project and this party tonight."  Her voice turned into a coy purr then, as she went back to his dry little joke from earlier.  "But you can call me sex-cee, if you prefer"

Stone nodded a few times in recognition of the way she'd rolled with his joke.  As he pulled out another smoke, he said, "A couple of days ago, DiSantiagos was just an Italian restaurant in Manchester.  Now I can't seem to turn a corner without bumping into another one of your kin."  He offered the open pack to her but didn't get up - she'd have to come over to him to take one.

"Sexy or otherwise," he added, deciding to flirt a bit and see where it went.  One thing these DiSantiago's sure did produce in abundance was sexy.

Jennifer closed the distance with a couple of lazy strides and perched on the table directly in front of him.  She obviously didn't have her cousin's disdain, pretend or otherwise, for cigarettes and reached out for one.  "So.  Who are you?  I saw you talking to Baby earlier.  Are you one of them?"

She didn't have any trouble with proximity, or feigning submission by sitting on the table in front of him so brazenly.  Despite himself, Stone found himself thinking, Me likey.

He gave his head a sideways twist and answered, "Well, I'm on the team."  He sighed.  "But no, I'm not one of them - not really."

"Shush."  Jennifer leaned forward and put one of her fingers over Stone's lips, as she looked around indiscriminantly to see if there was anyone within ear shot.  There was a playful smile on her lips when she spoke again.  "You just don't play by anybody's rules, do you?  Didn't Baby tell you not to tell anyone about the "T" word?"  The tone of her voice made it very apparent how much she was enjoying Stone's blatant disregard of things.

She lifted her finger off of his lips and let it trail lightly down his jaw and neck, before she straightened the collar of his shirt.  "Now...why don't you tell me some more dirty little secrets that you're not suppose to.  Like..."  She paused and raised her brow as she asked the question again.  "...who are you?"

"Nobody special," was the automatic response.  He one-handed his Zippo and lit her cigarette before lighting his own.  "Certainly nobody a nice bright-eyed kid like you wants to get involved with," he added around the smoke before taking a drag. 

He took it out of his mouth and exhaled sideways so as not to cloud her.  "Let's just say I'm an insurance policy."

Jennifer narrowed her eyes and he was certain of two things.  One, she wasn't used to working this hard for anything, and two, she didn't like it.  She took a long draw of her smoke and let it out slowly, but didn't have his same regard for whether the smoke blew in his face.  "By the end of the night, I'm going to know everything there is to know about you.  The only question is whether you get to be the one that I drag it out of, or if I should focus my attention on someone else."  With that she withdrew her hand from his neck and leaned back on her perch.

"Well, you are a piece of work," Stone said to her with a slow shake of his head.  "You just throw out that name and expect the planets to align, right?"

She raised her her brow a bit in affirmation and gave him a sultry smile.  "Pretty much.  There's a legend about our family.  Long ago one of our ancestor's sold his soul to a demoness in exchange for life eternal.  The price was steep, he would only be able to select a handful from each generation for salvation.  All but those would live their life on Earth as if it were heaven, no whim or wish would ever be denied.  In the end though, the demon would own their eternal souls.  I may be damned, but I can have anything I want."

He took another drag, studying her.  She's really not kidding, he thought.  And she calls the boss Baby.

"All you're gonna learn tonight that matters is that I'm the only person in this town who doesn't care about your name," he told her, leaning forward slightly to try and drive the point into her head.  "Now, you might think that's a bad thing or you might think it's a good thing," his even tone subtly suggestive of what he might mean by a good thing, "but that's up to you."

Jennifer's blue eyes were alive at his challenge and her smile lingered in appreciation.  "You are so rich.  You really think you can come to our city, and be this close to the DiSantiagos...and just not care?"  At that she rubbed her hands together in eager anticipation.  "Ooooh, I don't want to miss a single moment of you."  

"I don't care about much," Stone replied, a weighty melancholy tinging his words.  He looked down at the people milling about, not caring who they were or what they were there for.  "That's my curse."

He looked back up into her eyes.  Her face, lit up by the strung lights, was reflected in his sunglasses,   "Besides, who's going to make me care about the Disantiagos?  You?"  He drank from his bottle and shrugged.  "Good luck."

She flipped a hand as if to dismiss his question.  "Actually, I hope you pull it off.  Unfortunately, if you're part of Baby's ploy, then you're probably going to care.  She has that irritating affect on people."  She slipped off the table then and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"You'll have to excuse me now, I'm not suppose to chat with strangers."  With that she leaned down and whispered into his ear, her hot breath tickling his neck.  "Wish me luck, I have the mystery of you to solve.  If you change your mind, and want to help me out with that, I'm not hard to find."

She picked up her drink, took a step and paused, as if she fully expected him to stop her.  When he didn't, she let out a huff and pranced away.  "Toodles"

I'll bet, Stone thought, but didn't say.  He just watched her ass sashay off to do whatever it was that spoiled society women do.  As if on cue, the sound of Angelo DiSantiago's boistrous voice sounded over the speakers that were strategically placed throughout the gardens.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight.  For those of you who don't already know me, my name is Angelo DiSantiago... unless you work for the IRS, in which case my name is Javier..."  There was a smattering of chuckles as people congregated and relaxed.  "No, I'm kidding.  I'm kidding," he said as he sobered. 

It was easy to see that there would be no escaping them, at least for the night.

10:00 PM

After Angelo's speech the garden area became more popular and seemed to be attracting the rowdier crowd.  The atmosphere out here was a little more diverse, with less segregation than the Ballroom, but it could still be felt to a lesser degree.  A couple of the women from the heart of the Hudsom City well-to-do group, on the decks, began to migrate down to the bar area.  There were three of them and the sound of their laughter made them stand out against the crowd.

They were all in there early twenties, very pretty and dressed to kill.  When they reached the bar, the one with dirty blond hair and a dress that left little to the imagination, leaned in coyly and plucked a cherry from the bartender's container.  The other two, a brunette and a blonde, more conservatively dressed but stylish, laughed at her antics as they placed an order for their drinks.

It wasn't the first time that night that Stone had felt eyes on him, it seemed like everyone, for one reason or another wanted to give him a good look.  At least this time, when it was the pretty brunette looking at him, it wasn't quite so unwelcome.  She nudged the blond next to her, the one that wasn't involved in a semi-intimate conversation with the bartender, and tilted her heads towards him.  Whatever she said to her friend, got a raised brow of interest before the blond joined her in looking at him.

A moment later, the three lovely ladies jumped at the slamming of a glass upon the bar next to them.  A weathered ZZ Top-bearded man in biker leathers, his shaved head sporting a life-sized 8-ball tattoo, had taken a spot at the bar next to them.  His jacket bore the crossed pistol and knife of the Killers.

"Hey, bartender, two more Jack and Cokes."

"Yeah, and chop-chop," another biker wearing the same colors added in a faux superior tone.  The two of them had a loud laugh at their mockery of Hudson City's high society.

Cueball Patterson's eyes greedily drank in the assembled beauty next to him.  He slapped his buddy in the chest to get his attention and then he turned to the three ladies and asked with breath smelling of whisky, "Do you ladies like to ride?"

There was an uncomfortable prickle in the demeanor of the two sober women.  The brunette politely returned their gaze as her friend suddenly became very interested in the bar stool.  Just as the dark haired woman was getting ready to speak, her not so sober friend slipped off her stool and stumbled over to them.  She still had a cherry stem hanging out of her mouth as she came to a giggling stop.

"I like to ride!"  She volunteered before either of her friends could stop her.  "I'm Jennifer.  Jennifer Townsend."  She paused, and made her head sway as she continute, making the same introduction she must have made almost every day of her life.  "...of the Hudson City Townsends."

At this the brunette forced a smile and stepped in front of her tipsy friend.  "Hi guys.  I'm Christie.  Are you enjoying the party?"  Her tone was light, but those that knew her well could tell that it was forced.

"We sure are," Cueball answered, checking Christie out from head to toe and liking very much what he saw.  "We love to party, don't we, Meat?"

"Uh-huh," was the larger man's reply, accompanied by a stupid grin. 

"I'm Cueball Patterson," he said, smacking his tattoo with his palm, "of the Hudson City Killers."  His eyes weren't crazy but very wild.  He moved close to Christie and slipped his arm around her waist.  "So do you like to party, sweet Christie?  Heh-heh!"

Her smile faltered a bit at his touch but she didn't resist.  "Not as much as you might think.  ...but I'm a close friend of the DiSantiagos and I couldn't miss one of their parties."  She stressed the words close and DiSantiagos, words that usually carried respect and authority, obviously hoping that Cueball would subscribe to the natural order of things in Hudson City. 

Jennifer Townsend watched on, completely oblivious to Christie's discomfort.  The other blond though began to slip away, looking towards their group on the upper decks.   So far Hudson City's Finest were clueless to the extra attention that was being lavished on a few of their girls.  Whether or not anyone in the group would be brave enough or stupid enough to help extricate one of their own, was another question entirely.

Before she could take a second step, however, Cueball said, "Wait wait wait wait..." and slid his arm around her, too.  "Don't run off, ladies. The slightest sound of a sigh could be heard as the blond got caught in his web.  Her jaw was clenched and she did not appear to be nearly as accommodating as either of the other two girls. 

The party's just getting started."  As he said it, he let the hand on Christie's hip slide down to rub the side of her ass.

"Oh.  HALE NO!"  The brunette gave a lively bob of her head as she tried to pull away from his grasp.  "You're going to let me go now, or ..."  She paused, a ready threat on her lips, but for whatever reason she thought better of allowing it to pass.

He didn't let her go, he simply leered, clearly amused.  "Oooh, frisky!  Me likey!. Hahaha!  Gimme a kiss, now!"

Meat leaned over and nudged Cueball on the back.  Cueball turned his head and asked, "What?  Get your own!"  Meat, however, wasn't looking at him, but over his shoulder.  He pointed that way with a movement of his chin.  When Cueball turned to look,  Stone was standing three feet away.

Stone's demeanor was ice cold and still.  He regarded Cueball with a silent intensity until the rowdy biker calmed down.  Cueball reluctantly released the two women and then offered Stone an annoyed  "What?"

Christie and her friend quickly backed up against the bar.  Jennifer remained there with an interested smile on her face until the brunette reached forward and pulled her back.  "Did you see his tat!  How cool was that?!"

Stone held a pregnant pause as the small crowd that had gathered quietly looked on to see what would happen.  

"Walk."

Cueball snorted and made joshing gestures.  "Aw, man, we're just havin' a little fun.  Nobody got hurt."

"Now."  Not that he ever was, but Stone was clearly not amused.

For a moment it looked as though Cueball was actually going to go at it with the man in the tuxedo.  But at the last moment he held up his hands and said with mild jocularity, "Alright, allright."  He slapped Meat on the stomach with the back of his hand and said, "C'mon, let's get some of that grub."

As they walked off, Stone approached the three ladies and sighed before offering, "Sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry!"  The brunette breathed in relief, still a bit on edge from the residual tension in the air.  "That wasn't your fault!"  She managed a smile.  "I'm Christie, and this is Tara and Jennifer."  She gestured to each of her friends in turn.

"Hey," the taller man offered in greeting.  "I'm Stone."

"Seriously?"  She asked with a curious lilt?  "Thank you.  That was going to end badly."  There was a sincerity in her dark eyes as she spoke. 

"You're welcome," he replied.  She was much more his speed than the huntress he'd chatted with earlier.  The simple, honest girl next door type - and not bad on the eyes.  He let his look linger, a certain yet subtle interest expressed in his non-verbal cues.

Christe lifted her brow a bit at his lingering look, a small smile of possible interest playing at her face.  As was usual, girls had a difficult time resisting his renegade vibe.

Her tipsy friend, Jennifer, leaned over her shoulder and threw out a question.  "What's with the shades?"

"I'm antisocial," he deadpanned.

Tara and Christie both laughed at his response, while Jennifer blinked her eyes, completely unsure of what was funny.  "Can we buy you a drink?"  The previously quiet girl, named Tara, asked.  The drinks were free and they all knew that, but it seemed like the thing to do.

"I don't know, can you?" he asked seriously, leaning down a little towards her.  He straightened right back up, though, and admitted, "Just kidding.  Sure, what are you drinking?"

"Anything to get the taste of that whisky out of my mouth."  Tara quipped and Christie nodded in agreement. 

Tara ordered a kamikaze and Christie ordered a much lighter Smirnoff Ice.  Stone ordered another Bud.  It only took a moment before the brunette turned to give Stone her full attention again. 

"I've actually heard your name."  Christie said in a quiet but matter of fact voice.  It seemed as if both she and Tara were competing a bit for his attention.

Stone put his hands in his pockets, feeling relaxed for the first time tonight.  "Oh, yeah?" he replied.

She nodded her head a bit, almost coy.  Her friend, Tara's eyes narrowed in partial annoyance and disbelief of Christie's claim.

"Yep."  She smiled up at him and his dark shades seemed to make her think twice about making the information too hard to get.  "Phi's my best friend.  ...and when I spoke to her this morning she was a bit more animated than usual, and your name came up."  Her smile turned into a grin.  "She's great, really...but these last couple of months have stressed her sanity."

"So I've heard," Stone replied before taking a drink of his beer. "But I'm just a quiet guy along for the ride."

He tuned to Tara and asked, semi-seriously, "Do I look like a source of stress to you?"

Tara cocked her head cutely as she gave him a lingering look, obviously pleased that he'd taken his attention off of Christie.  "You certainly look like you have the potential to stress."  Jennifer Townsend nodded her head in approval, but her blue eyes seemed devoid of any understanding of what was going on.

Stone didn't immediately reply.  He simply left his shaded gaze upon her, returning the look, while taking another drink of his beer.  After he swallowed, he turned back to Christie and said, "Maybe."

Things weren't looking too bad for Stone, considering that he hadn't been looking forward to the party.  The women, as usual had a way of finding him and his bad boy charm seemed to be hitting the mark with this crowd of Hudson City's Finest.  He could tell that both Tara and Christie were into him and he was beginning to get a feel for their sobriety level and general party mentality, when the doors from the Ball Room opened again, signaling an end for his free time.

It was twenty minutes after ten, when Ophilia DiSantiago reemerged in the gardens area.  There was a bit of a wild look to her eyes as she purposely scanned the pool, the decks, and finally the bar.  As soon as her eyes fell on Stone, her decorum returned as she headed over to them.

"Christie!"  She gave her friend a big hug.  "Are you distracting my key people from their duties?"  Her tone was light but her brown eyes were serious and maybe a bit disapproving.

"Phi...don't worry."  Christie replied, feeding off some knowedge or read that she had of her friend that the other's couldn't see.  "Stone has been the perfect gentleman.  As a matter of fact..."  She paused dramatically, "...he saved us from an unpleasant encounter with two of those motorcycle guys.  The Killers?  Seriously Phi...how did you let that happen?"

Ophilia bristled a bit and shrugged her shoulders.  "I just thought it would be fun."  Her tone was dead serious but the look on her face made it an apparent lie.

"Stone, five minutes...okay?  At the stage in the ball room."  Her tone was hurried as she waited for his reply, and he could amost feel the anxiety that was exuding from her.

She still doesn't get it, he thought.  You don't have to cover for someone who just doesn't care.

"I'll be there," he replied to her with a nod.

She sighed with relief, happy that she had found and notified the last person.  Ardent's little dance off her carefully planned script had put her behind schedule.  "Thank you.  I have to go...Soldier Boy has a way of getting distracted sometimes." 

Then Phi turned to Christie, "If you see Mason, tell him that I'll be all his after the unvieling."

"All his?"  Christie said in a flirtacious lilt as she waggled her eyebrows.  "Somehow I doubt that!"  If Ophilia heard that, she didn't respond as she hurried back into the Ball Room.

Stone watched Ophilia retreat and slammed the rest of his beer.  "Pardon me, ladies," he said with little excitement as he placed his empty bottle on the bar, leaning in closely to Christie for a moment as he did so, "but its showtime."  

He straightened his tuxedo jacket and gave both women a nod before moving into the ballroom on a slow path towards the stage.