February 28th, 1978
Who: Phineas McLaggen and Joy Diserafino (and the beginnings of a Cormac!)
What: Their first meeting
Where: Psyke Smith's birthday party



Finn sat in a circle of mates, laughing and clinking his bottle around after a good story or joke. It was rare for him to be in such a good mood, but, after knocking back a few drinks and being reminded quite heartily that he'd got his team to the fucking playoffs---then, fuck, he deserved a good laugh.

"Right--you wait until I get back to talk about me some more," he said loudly, getting a good laugh from the group as Finn slipped out of his seat and sauntered over to the bar area, where an interesting (ie. cute) blonde was standing. Except, she looked far too young to be in a place like this, "You sure you'll be back in bed before McGonagall catches you?"

Joy had been enjoying her cosmopolitan (her third of the night, but it was a party, so hey! Who was counting?) when she heard a voice in her right ear. Turning around from her conversation with the bartender slowly, she arched an eyebrow at a very (ooh, very) hot man. Whom, she noticed immediately, happened to be a very famous, very hot man.

... and also rather rude, what the heck? "Excuse me?" she asked, giving him a look of slight disbelief. After all, like, who said that to people?

He snorted and caught his drink expertly as it was slid down the counter. Finn was awfully impressed with the lack of spilling the guests seemed to be doing of their drinks at this party, considering they were on a moving boat, but, hey, it was magic.

"How old are you?" Finn asked bluntly, taking a drink but not taking his eyes off of her. Ohhh, he could just hear Hannah's voice in his ear, calling him a dirty old man, but was it his fault that these barely legal chicks kept flaunting all of their very wonderful assets at him? They certainly didn't mind when he grew interested.

Joy held back the urge to roll her eyes, if only for the fact that he was, besides rude, still like, the cutest and most famous guy on this ship. And that was saying something. After all, personality didn't really matter in the long run, did it? She'd heard a lot of interesting stories about Phineas McLaggen, besides those that labeled him as an ass. Interesting enough that she wouldn't mind having one of her own to tell.

"Ninteen, if you must know," she said casually, smirking at the smoothness with which he caught his drink. "Why do you care?" Joy could be blunt, too.

"Technicalities," he said, a wicked grin crossing his features. Nineteen wasn't too bad. That meant she had two years of being legal under her belt, that's what. Not like he was fucking around with seventh year students. Finn took a drink and looked away for a moment, unsure if he should bring her back to the table so his mates could brag more about him, or get the hell out of there to someplace more personal.

Because either way, she was going to come with him. There was really no question about that.

"What's your name?"

"Joy," she answered, taking a sip of her own drink. "Diserafino." The last was added as she set the glass down on the bar top with a light clink, and she looked up at him, this time interestedly rather than bothered by him. Technicalities, right. She'd been around enough guys in her life to know what that meant--and it was a good thing for him that she lived for that kind of thing.

Flashing him an almost humorously innocent smile, Joy twirled a finger through her hair. "And... what's yours, stranger?" she asked, although it was obvious to both of them that she knew exactly who he was. Guh, who didn't?

This would be easy. A bit too easy for his liking it seemed (the chase, it was definitely what riled him up the most), but who was he to really complain? Oh...wait, he was Finn McLaggen, that's who, and could have his pick of the litter when it came to all the women on this boat. This Joy character must know she was the lucky bint of the night.

Yes, he was such a casanova.

"Finn McLaggen, and I'm about to find a myself a more secluded spot to get away from these morons, if you'd like to join me."

Joy could just feel her enthusiasm over this situation soar, and she emitted a little giggle. However, just for show, she bit her lip and pretended to fret over things, as if she had somewhere that it was more important for her to be, or as if she were choosing between two very good things. Finally, after a few moments, she nodded and let her lips curve into a smile.

"You know, that sounds fabulous," she said, quickly downing the last of her drink before pushing herself away from the bar. The small buzz she had from her few cosmos, as well as the excitement of being pulled away into privacy by a world-famous, playoffs team captain Quidditch player was putting her on an unbelievable high.

Privacy, as strange it might seem, was not too hard to find on a rather crowded, rowdy boat. Finn took Joy's hand and weaved them through the crowd, lifting his beer up at people he knew, faces he recognized, and random voices that shouted at him. But there was a nice, quiet--lounge, sort of thing, with weird shaped couches and fish tanks and weird colored lights, that, apparently people didn't find suitable enough of an environment to get pissed and passed out. Beautiful.

"Is this to your liking?" Finn drawled out, holding the door open for Joy; hey, he had to put on some sort of gentlemanly act if he wanted in her pants. Chicks needed to be persuaded somewhat.

It really was beautiful in there--amazing that it was secluded, but also just their luck. "Perfect," she commented, allowing him to hold the door open before stepping in. Well, at least he wasn't rude all the time. It seemed there was hope for him still (not that it would matter). Turning around once he was inside, Joy came up close to him and ran her hands up his chest, letting her nails dig in just enough to create some friction.

Then, suddenly, she pushed him back, into the wall, causing the door to close with his weight against it and reaching down with one hand to lock it. She reached up, just a little (thankfully, he was a good height for her) and planted a soft, teasing, drawn out kiss on his lips, a glint in her eye as she drew away.

Oh, good, she was getting straight to the issue at hand. That's how he liked his women, quick and easy, and incredibly hot. Joy seemed to have all those attributes and didn't seem to mind that he was absolutely abusing the alcohol they've both been consuming. Damn, he loved being rich and famous. There could really be nothing better than that combination. People who said that money wasn't everything were poor and trying to make the best of their crappy lives.

His arms slid around her small frame and deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him to, well, you know. Cause some friction.

Aaaaahahah, her friends were never going to believe it when she told them she had spent the night partying with Finn McLaggen, never--this was absolutely fantastic. Okay, so maybe she was using him just a bit, maybe this was something of a social booster for her, but that didn't stop him from being a damn good snog, either. Joy could only imagine what kind of a shag he was... haa, and she was totally going to get to find out, what with all that they'd both been drinking.

Placing her hands on either side of his face and tilting her head, she let the kiss get just as sloppy and passionate as she could--hey, when you were drunk, those were the best kind. One of Joy's hands went to the back of his head, running across his short hair more than through.

Some would say that the kind of life she lived, this kind of thing, was sad and pathetic. Well, those people had obviously never gotten the change to fuck around with a celebrity.

Eh, and what did he care if another girl went off to tell her friends about their wild night with him? It was just another notch on his belt, and it would only help his reputation; shag 'em and leave 'em, don't get attached, just have your fun and go. Of course this was the lifestyle of many of the younger players in their league, but, well let's face it, Finn McLaggen was simply the best at it.

Realizing that this position was not the most opportune, and because the kissing and groping and what have you was getting heavier, Finn wasted no time in gliding his hands over her backside and hooking them under her thighs so he could lift her up---there was a suitable couch in the background, if he saw correctly.

The second his hands roamed, she knew her cue--with the help of a little hop, Joy brought her legs up around his middle, crossing her ankles right above his backside. Just for good measure, she used her arms around him to hoist herself up just a little more, hard against him, a lot more than brushing up against a very very male body part.

Now the alcohol was really catching up with her, because she could feel the fuzziness overtaking her mind and she was almost certain that all the heat on her cheeks wasn't just from the snogging. No, she was totally drunk... meh, but she'd done this a thousand times, it wasn't like it mattered. Made it better, if you asked her, even if sometimes she couldn't really remember what she'd done in the morning.

Managing to cross the room without dropping her (not the weight, it was more of the being pretty pissed out of his mind part), they dropped to the couch thingy and proceeded from there. Women were brilliant creatures sometimes---dresses were made for times like this, and Finn's hands didn't waste any time exploring the easy access his very skimpy dress provided him.

It would be quite the easy job to rid of all the clothing right away, and they were slowly coming off---it was more fun that way, piece by piece, stripping it off in an expert manner. Merlin, how could blokes live without getting this night after night? Poor saps, must bust their guts (among other things) to get this.

By wiggling just a little underneath him, it was extremely easy for the skirt of her dress to just hitch itself up around her hips. Obviously, there was nothing under said dress--after all, it was totally out to wear knickers when you partied like she and her friends seemed to do every night. There was always bound to be someone to fuck, and all they ended up being were inhibitors and roadblocks, an inconvenience easily rid of by just... 'forgetting' about it. Besides, in her experience, guys got turned on by that kind of thing--not that Finn needed any help there, as he was pretty riled up already from the looks of things.

Expertly, popping a couple buttons, Joy took to just about ripping the shirt off his chest. Unbuttoning was for losers.