Smoke on Sundays when you're drunk and dressed [Geoff]

Red.

The word would ring through her head for the rest of time, and as she held the ice pack to her head on the walk home to her flat, she decided that she never wanted to hear it again. Maybe she would bleach her hair out, but then would they call her "yellow"? Red was the color of seduction, of lust and sex, and the color of Whittier de Burgh's head of curly hair. It was a color, not a name, but here she was, glorified by it. If she cut it all off, would Leon fire her or kill her? Or both? Stepping slowly, she thought sadly about the night she'd just experienced. If it were up to her and not her nearly-always-empty wallet, she never would go back. She hated the jeers, the looks, the touch of dirty old men hot off of Knockturn Alley who had killed their wives for fun. Sirens was a respectable place, but she was sure it didn't always attract the most respectable people. Men shouldn't like to watch a woman's breasts bounce around outside of his own bedroom. It shouldn't be allowed.

Alas, Whittier was a hypocrite. At the end of the day, it was her who was doing it. She needed this job to pay her bills, and without the dirty nasty men who came to see her, she'd be starving on the streets of Diagon Alley begging for spare change.

Hitting the bricks with the loud footfall of stillettos, she thought of the night that had just occurred. Halfway through a dance, Whittier lost concentration and fell and hit her head against the hardwood of the stage. She was now nursing an egg of a lump on the back of her head that she would have to miss her day job to get checked out in the morning. Her coworkers instructed her not to sleep and to come out with them for drinks. However, she couldn't care less about alcohol and she was looking more forward to a nice foot soak.

Geoff was pissed.

Here he was, walking down the streets of London after a long nights work, instead of going to the bar and having a couple of drinks with his fellow co-workers. One of the dancers had fucked up the dance routine and gone hit her head on the dance floor. Now he had to go make sure she was okay because she had been there long enough to establish a customer base, which means more money. It shouldn't have to be his problem, but he couldn't tell his boss no..unless he didn't want to work for Sirens anymore.

Checking the piece of paper with Red address on it, Geoff squinted his eyes at the street names. He wasn't sure what Red real name is, and he would never ask. If there was one thing the twenty three year old respected that was the need for a cover up. No one knew or question him about his past, so he gave them the same curtesy. Finally finding the right street, Geoff turned onto it and saw the woman with the red curly hair up ahead. Her heels were clicking against the cobbled street. His eyes automatically moved down to her arse, which was covered by a trench coat. If he hadn't know. Any better he would've thought she was a street walker.

Stuffing the piece of paper into his jean pocket, Geoff walked right next to Red with a smile. She was sure to reconize him since he was was one of the long time standing security guys. After being at Sirens for four years the young man had gotten numb to seeing the same women breasts and other lady parts moving around. But he still couldn't help the fact that Red was smoking hot. "You know you should've just joined us for drinks. Vodka would've made you feel better." That and he really wanted to be drinking himself with his arms wrapped around a beautiful woman.

Really he should just read back and tell the others he checked on her and she was fine.

Using both hands, Whittier pulled down at the hem of her skirt, struggling to keep as much of her covered as possible. She wasn't worried walking through Muggle London looking like this, because if it came down to it, she would use magic against an assailant she couldn't fight off with her hands. She didn't care if it was illegal, she would protect herself. She just hoped that one day those self-defense classes she took would come in handy if she needed it. Being a dancer, sometimes she needed that little extra help keeping a handsy guy in her place, and she didn't like crying for help to any of the toolish bouncers. There were a handful of them that Whittier liked, and oddly enough, Geoff wasn't one of them.

Turning to look at her new escort, she laughed bitterly. "I honestly doubt that." She said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I don't need help walking home," She said, stepping carefully on the cobbled street beneath her, and once again pulled down on her dress. Geoff was hott, but Whittier wasn't about to invite him into her house. She hoped that he wouldn't be disappointed to see that he had walked her home for nothing. She also thought about the lump on the back of her head. She wondered if he'd watched her do that. It wasn't easy holding onto a pole with just one's thighs. It was even harder with bright lights and a little bit of slick sweat.

"I'm fine. Really." She looked back over at him, and gave him a quick once over. Outside of work, he seemed like much less of a tool. Maybe his company home could  be bearable. She still wasn't going to invite him inside.

She could tell by just looking at Geoff that he got a lot of action. Girls probably drooled over him. He was good looking with sharp, masculine features, a cut jawline. He was strong and buff, and she was sure that he had between six and eight visible muscles on his abdomen. He was covered in tattoos, and for whatever reason, girls loved that kind of bad boy look on guys like Geoff. His only downside was his personality. If he was slightly sweeter than he acted, Whittier might be all over that.

"It does, makes you forget about the pain." Giving her a wink, Geoff kept his pace with her as she pulled down at her dress. He couldn't help but gaze down at the hem of the fabric that was trying to cover as much arse as possible, nor could he pretend that he was just looking at something on the ground. Geoff never tried to hide his intentions. He was the type of guy who let someone know up front how he wanted things. With a few exceptions. But Red wasn't one of those exceptions and so his blue-green eyes moved slowly up her body. Admiring the curves on her hips and how her red hair curled down and brushed her shoulders lightly. Working as Security meant that he had to have his eyes mostly on the guys enjoying the show instead of the girls performing. So it was quite difficult to really stand back and admire the girls beauty.

Except for moments like this.

"Well too bad you're getting help walking home." His tone wasn't bitter as hers, but it wasn't nice either as he said the words with a commanding voice. Although he didn't see Red hit her head, Geoff was there for the aftermath making sure no other filthy scum had their grubby hands on the girl. The look of the lump on the back of her head had seemed to be quite worrisome at the time. Actually it still was according to most of his co-workers. Geoff would've suggested ice and a bottle of vodka to numb the pain, but it seems Red wanted to be strong and walk home without any of that. Which was actually a bit of a turn on. He did enjoy hot women who were confident with themselves. But not too confident to where he would have to yell or match their fury just to get them to listen.

Raising a brow at her stubborn comment, Geoff moved his hand gently into Red's hair to feel the lump that was still there. "Sure you are. Walking down the streets pulling that dress down so that your bum isn't shown to the whole world. All while sporting this lovely lump on the back of your head that feels like the size of a watermelon." Okay maybe he was exarating a bit. But whatever it took to get her home quicker and go back to drinking with his fellow peers. Although...he grinned a bit as an idea came to mind. Of course it would be all up to Red, but that would make this mundane task that much more enjoyable if she did say yes. Removing his hand from her head, Geoff kept his pace with her and his eyes moved around their surroundings. Late in the night certain types of men moved around the dark cobbled streets of London just looking for a beautiful woman walking by herself. Geoff was honestly quite surprised that Red hadn't ran into such hooligans yet.

"At least humor me and let me walk you home. Otherwise I'll never forgive myself if you were jumped and raped." That was partly true. He would just mostly state it was her fault for not letting him escort her, but he also didn't like guys who took what they wanted when someone said no. It reminded him too much of Hamish...and those type of people really angered Geoff to the point of no return.