<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: JasmineUPC;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Rhiannon.Jinnifer.Middleton</strong><br/>....just call me Jinni....</span> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: eurostile;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong> Location: P3 dance floor<br/>Tagged: Angel</strong></span></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/3270/jinni2.jpg)</div><br/>As Angel led her out onto the dance floor she couldn't help but notice the way he moved with rhythm and an unspoken grace. It was refreshing to see someone so well versed in the motion of dance. Most men just wanted to grind up against you and try to make out while they all but dry humped you on the dance floor. That was one of the main reasons that Jinni didn't do dancing at clubs. That, and the fact that there just weren't that many men who appealed to her fun side and knew how to keep it at just that. The motion of the twirl had the skirt of her dress flowing around her and then falling back into place like a ribbon of silk. She chuckled a little and fell into place in his arms as a good matched set of partners would.<br/><br/>As they moved with the music, her hand in his, she moved in close more for audible reasons than intimacy. He smelled nice and yet there was that familiarity about him that she had sensed before. Something about him. Something different. Special even.<br/><br/><strong>"So where are you from? I'm quite sure you've not lived here your own life and if so where have you been hiding?"</strong><br/><br/>Jinni couldn't help but think if he had been in San Francisco for a bit she would have run into him by now. A hum in her ear and an unseen, unheard voice in her mind spoke to her of his darker sides that she just couldn't see. She shook her head a little and smiled up at Angel. The voices weren't something she'd ever mention to anyone. That alone labeled you as crazy. She just ignored it and went on with the dance trying to maintain focus on not stepping on his toes. Her black heeled stilettos weren't exactly toe friendly to those poor individuals who became victims of happenstance.