Outcast Elf in London
1. Can I have your number?
When Fred fell from the ceiling and landed in a classic, hero pose, no one at the bar noticed. The regulars kept drinking, new couples kept flirting, and the bar staff kept serving.
"You alright, mate?"
A heavy hand slapped him, hard, on the shoulder, before reaching down to help him to his feet.
"Thanks," Fred said, righting himself as he stumbled into the bar. "That was quite a pill!"
The man smiled, raising a confused eyebrow.
"Well, you take care, mate," he said with another slap. "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!"
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
Fred needed to pull himself together. He was so pleased the portal pill had worked.
It was the first he’d made himself, unless you counted the one he made at school.
That day he’d ended up landing right in the face of the pretty new teacher in the class next door.
Portal pills took you wherever you really wanted to go, which was not always where you expected to be.
Case in point, wherever this was.
Out beyond the bar, the lights were low, apart from sudden flashes and sweeps of multicoloured beams, which lit up ecstatic faces and sweat-shiny skin. Music pumped from giant black boxes at the far end of the room and the sea of bodies moved in time to the beat.
Fred didn’t know where or what this was, but he knew he liked it. He pushed his way through the spectators at the edge, and emerged right in the middle of the dance floor. He took a quick look around to size up the situation and started to move.
He flung his arms in the air and began to ripple his muscles and grind, closing his eyes to become one with the music. When he opened them again, a gaggle of giggling girls had formed around him.
The portal pill is never wrong! he thought, triumphant at his own craftsmanship. Let the fun begin!
He held out his hand and a tall, slender girl, wearing the tiniest of skirts, and the lowest of tops, took it. Squealing with joy, she jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs round his waist.
"Let me ride you, big boy!" she shouted in his ear.
She flung herself backwards and Fred grabbed for her just in time to stop her hitting the floor. This wasn’t a position he’d ever been in in public before, but he was enjoying the attention, and the view.
As his rider bounced away in time to the beat of the base, her breasts bounced too, but with a jiggle that created a second, mesmerising rhythm. Her long, loose, black hair hung down behind her, and her brown eyes twinkled each time she caught his.
As the tune jangled to an end and the next began, the girl pulled herself back up to shout in Fred’s ear again.
‘Can I have your number?’
‘Number?’
‘Phone number! Way to contact you? Oh… never mind…’
She wriggled out of his arms and pulled out a tiny, scratchy brush to daub a long string of numerals onto his arm.
‘Don’t forget me!’ she shouted, planting a kiss on Fred’s cheek when he leant down to hear her better.
Once she had gone, the next eager dancer took her place. As she ground up against Fred’s leg, he couldn’t help but scan the room for the girl who had just left.
The one that got away? Already? It didn’t seem right.
Don’t get all up in your head! he admonished himself. Enjoy the moment! You’re finally free!
It wasn’t hard. He let his hand trail down the soft skin of this new girl’s naked back, and as she pulled herself even closer, she looked up at him with big, blue, welcoming eyes. Her lips parted and he leaned down to hear her better.
‘Do you mind if she joins us?’ she shouted, gesturing towards a friend who was fast approaching.
Fred shrugged. The best bet right now seemed to be to go with the flow, especially if that flow meant beauties hanging all over him.
Many tunes, and many girls later, Fred slumped down on a stool at the bar, ignoring how it creaked in protest at his considerable weight, and attempted to place his order.
"A flagon of your finest ale!" he croaked, sliding a gold coin across the bar.
Rather than take his money, the barman grabbed his wrist, pulled him across the bar and hissed, "You’re coming with me!"