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Ari didn't miss Tom's sudden attentiveness. Maybe, she thought, there was some truth behind the whole 'treat em mean, keep 'em keen' advice. Or maybe Tom just liked girls who played hard to get, considering how everyone seemed to fall at his feet.

"Hmm," she considered as she took her seat. "Surprise me. Something that'll give me a buzz but not get me drunk."

She suspected that Tom would just take her home and tuck her into a spare bed if she did end up drunk, but Ari didn't want the whole 'big brother taking care of stupid little sister' routine tonight. The night was becoming more and more fun as it wore on, and Ari didn't want to miss what might come next.

Ari eyed the daiquiri with great interest. Certainly it looked more appealing than Tom's mud-coloured beer.

"Thanks," she said before taking a sip, "for the drink and the warning." It wasn't as though she assumed anything with a straw was as innocent as a soft drink, but something this fruity and colourful did seem less threatening than a beer - for all that there was probably more alcohol in her cocktail. She took the warning to heart and sipped slowly.

A smile bloomed as the sweetness of the strawberries hit her, tempered by the tart lime hint. It nearly but not quite hid the tell-tale taste of alcohol. She revised her opinion of the drink as being very dangerous, indeed. She could easily see herself knocking several of these back as though they were slushies.

"This is amazing," she told Tom. Leaning her chin on her hand, she shot him a flirtatious look. "You may just have to take me out a few more times so I can try more of these."

"That sounds like a good idea," Ari agreed. Tom seemed to slipping back into his 'big brother' role, but it wasn't like Ari wanted to get blind drunk or deal with a migraine the next morning either. So she'd let this one go.

The proffered glass of beer received a tentative sniff, which immediately has Ari's nose wrinkling. "Uh... sure..." she said slowly. Hopefully it was better than it smelled, too.

A tiny sip had her pulling a face and pushing the offending beverage back at Tom. "Eurgh, what, just - ugh!" Ari forewent sipping to take a gulp or two of her daiquiri to wash away the taste. She shot Tom a dirty glance. "That was disgusting," she told him. "I hate to tell you, but someone burnt your beer." And possibly his taste buds, she thought.

Ari was firmly in the 'hate' camp. Perhaps Guiness was better on tap as Tom claimed, perhaps it was still terrible. "Maybe it goes better with burnt meat," she offered. The strange taste might be less noticable when eating other things that had been cooked for too long.

Never having tried American beer, Ari couldn't comment on that. Tom wasn't the first she'd heard express that opinion, though. If she ever got tired of daiquiris and wanted beer, she'd make sure to stick to the imported brands. Just... not Guiness.

She nibbled on a pretzel while her eyes strayed over Tom's body. It was hard not to stare when he seemed to be inviting people to stare. She'd never wanted to be one of those people who ogled others, but considering the flirting she and Tom had been engaged in all evening, perhaps he wouldn't mind that she couldn't tear her gaze away for more than a few seconds at a time. The tight t-shirt, apart from showcasing his physique, also clearly highlighted a few extra bumps that shouldn't be there...

Her eyebrows flew up as she realised, "More piercings? How many do you have? Or is that something I have to discover for myself?" she teased, a sultry smile spreading slowly across her lips.

Ari's smile grew as Tom spoke about someone having to count his piercings. Though her eyes were half-lidded, there was still enough heat coming from them that Tom wouldn't be blamed for worrying she might burn holes in his shirt... or jeans.

"I may just need one of these private showings," she purred back. "I don't think everyone else here needs to be able to count your piercings. And if I'm doing that, I may as well get the full experience, hmm?"

She was well aware that Tom was putting on a show. Body on display, cig out for the full bad-boy image, all this talk of just what he could do with his tongue. It wasn't so much that she was taken in by it, as enjoying said show and willing to see if he would follow through. And it certainly wasn't as though she hadn't been putting one or her own on all night.

Leaning forward, she crossed her arms under her chest and rested them on the table. Her cleavage deepened significantly. "So," Ari's lowered voice throbbed like the bass in the air, "is that offer of a roommate for the night still open?"

She was not talking about the guest room.

It was a good thing Tom hadn't made the same offer when they'd first met, back when Ari had only been seventeen. The caveat of an age limit might have been enough to put her off him, if she'd been offering and he'd turned her down for something so silly. Luckily for both of them, Ari was several months past the fateful birthday, so her sultry smile just upped the heat.

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed. She was unable to keep her enthusiasm from showing in her eyes. Getting out of here sounded great. Getting to know Tom more intimately - even better.

She pushed out of her chair, regretting that they both needed to stop showing off, but it was necessary. It wasn't as though they could do much more while in the club. (Alright, technically a lie, as Ari had heard of people who had sex in chairs or hallways of clubs, but she had no respect for them.)

"Dare I ask about 'your machine'?" she smiled, interested in knowing what kind of vehicle Tom had. Something to match his bad-boy image, she guessed.

Ari wasn't the sort of girl who knew one model of car from another, or what the point of chrome and such was. She was more the sort to see a car, and like it or not, without understanding what car it was besides being a 'hot car'. That being said, she did recognise the world 'Impala'.

"How very Supernatural of you," she teased. Tom might not even watch the show, but Ari did try to keep abreast of pop culture, so most tv references helped her memory along. She pressed into Tom's side, all the while mentally drooling over the thought of the car. "That is a hot car. And what they call 'a classic', right?"

She'd rather expected something newer from Tom. If not an outright motorbike instead of a car. But she was not at all disappointed to learn differently, oh no.

A laugh burst out of her as Tom offered to literally pick her up. How very caveman. "As much as I'd like to see the bouncer's face if you walked out with me tossed over one shoulder," she said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, "I doubt he'd ever let me back in again. But we should totally try it the other way around sometime."

It wouldn't do for Tom to completely ignore her muscles in favour of her curves (even if she was emphasising them tonight). Ari was a senshi and kickboxer, not the usual helpless girl that Tom might have taken home.

"Sounds good," she said with a smile. "Though hopefully you won't be doing anything that requires me to kick your a**."

The ease with which Tom accepted her rougher, less feminine qualities was reassuring. At least past relationship had failed because the guy in question simply couldn't accept that she didn't need a big, strong man to protect her from everything. Ari was independant and kick-a** and prone to rushing into things - it was all kinds of awesome that Tom liked that about her.

She laughed as he spoke about riding off into sunsets. One shoulder gently bumped his upper ribs. "Don't tell me you're the sweet young thing who's going to tame me of my wild-girl ways? Or some reverse cliche like that?" She eyed Tom up and down, not in any hurry. "Hmm, nah, don't think you fit that mold. Just relax and enjoy it, whatever this is. I promise I'll be gentle, baby," she fluttered her eyelashes at him, still in her role of being the 'man' in the cliched scenario.

When they reached the exit, Ari ducked out from under Tom's arm and darted ahead. Looking back over her shoulder at him, she said, "Despite what they say, size does matter. Small is never good, and too fast means I'm unlikely to ask for a second ride. I'm very picky about... cars."

Her hips sashayed in a hypnotizing fashion as she strutted off ahead of Tom. He'd have to hurry in order to lead her to his car. "Oh, and when I said I'd be gentle?" she shot a sinful smirk back at Tom. "I lied."