The streetlight cast a glow that was encroached upon by the neon pinks and greens that emanated from the nude noodle bar across the street. Each time a customer entered the bar, Ginger was able to get a peep at the nude hostess as she greeted the customers.

The menu of that place was expensive since it listed gold, truffles and caviar as ingredients for its luxe meals and rumour had it that a woman was included in the price of the meal. Or a man... the owner wasn't too picky about the appetites of his customers. Ginger sighed and leaned against the lamppost, the cold metal against his shoulder keeping him from ascending into his daydreams.

Would a woman taste as good as a Kobe steak? Tender? Juicy? Filling?

His thoughts were interrupted by a bouncer calling to him. "Red! Hey, Red!" Ginger turned and found the source of the voice. The bouncer, a short and stocky man with an appealing Glasgow smile, waved to him.

Pushing himself off the lamppost, Ginger turned and began walking towards the other man. "Well?" He asked as he finally closed the distance between them.

Looking from side to side, the bouncer lowered his voice and leaned towards Ginger's ear. "She's here. Upstairs and last room on the left." Ginger turned his head away slightly so as to not breathe in the alcohol fumes coming from the man's breath. Ginger silently removed a hand from him pocket and placed the crumpled bills in the bouncer's hand.

"Thank you," he murmured and headed inside, through the door the bouncer held open for him. He should have braced himself before entering.

The transition between the cold and fresh outside into the hot, smokey and loud inside was an assault upon his senses. Ginger covered his mouth and coughed lightly, blinking the beginning of tears from his eyes. He hadn't been around this much smoke since he was starting fires for Boss.

A thin girl with surgically enhanced breasts took his jacket and smiled at him. He returned the smile, the action using facial muscles he hadn't used in a long time. "Welcome," she said shyly and he nodded at her before continuing further into the establishment.

He passed people dancing, gyrating, drinking, smoking, snorting, injecting and fucking. One amorous couple hadn't even made it to one of the upstairs rooms before engaging in coitus.

She was pressed against the bar, her shirt pulled up and exposing her breasts while her legs were held apart by her partner's feet. Her skirt was flipped up, panties pulled aside and his thick cock was plunging in and out of her, dripping with their combined fluids. Other patrons were fondling her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples and smacking her bare ass cheeks. Each time her mouth opened in ecstasy someone was ready to plunge their fingers into it. The girl was lost to a heady mixture of alcohol, drugs and pleasure.

Ginger took the stairs two at a time, listening as the sounds behind him began to fade and lose their thumping edge in his brain. The higher up he went it became quieter but it was replaced by different sounds.

Moans, slaps, verbal abuse and begging were mixed in with loud moans and screams from sexual satisfaction. One particular woman kept screaming for more! and harder! Ginger smiled slightly, remembering the last time a woman made that desperate request from him, wanting to step off the edge of climax and plunge into the intoxication of orgasm.

His feet took him down the worn carpeted hallway. There seemed to be a well trodden path towards this door. She's been keeping busy... he'll correct that.

Rapping his knuckles on the door, he waited. After what seemed like eternity, the door cracked open, spilling soft purple light into the hallway. Large yellow pupils greeted his violet ones and seemed empty as she searched her fried mind for a connection. Her eyes travelled down his face, ignoring the scars and fading bruises, and came to rest on his chest.

Slender fingers reached out and moved part of his shirt aside. The tattoo. A coiled dragon, ready to strike with its fangs bared, and with blood on its claws was etched into his skin. It would have been a beautiful piece of art except for the scarred slashes that marred the image.

She gasped softly and looked into his eyes again. "Pein," she whispered and stepped back, clutching her hands to her chest.

He stepped into the room and closed the door, the click of the latch sliding home signalling some kind of finality. He turned from door and faced her, standing at his full height and with his shoulders squared back.

"I've been searching for you," Pein said softly, walking towards her and raising a hand to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her small hands grasping his large one.

"It has been too long, my love," she whispered back.