"We can pretend that there's a flame, between us." "between us?" Fake relationship OxO! Open :))

She didn't answer him, just dancing with him and moving to the beat of music being played on the background. She didn't seem like she would answer any of his remaining questions as she didn't deem it necessary for him to know.

Lars chuckled softly at her silence. He respected her choice not to answer though he was still concerned. “I at least hope he is not your husband.” he commented as plainly as one would discuss the weather.

His reply made her scoff, but she still didn't reply. She danced with him briefly before spotting her father glancing at her. She forced herself to put on a fake smile as she looked at him and he smiled back at her and looked away. She hated this already, but to get into her father's good graces, she had to pretend she was trying to find a suitor.

“That’s not a no.” Lars couldn't help but tease with a smirk. Though he was honestly doubtful that Rachel was married. If she was, then it would have been unlikely that she would be dancing with him.

She wanted to strangle the man Infront of her all things considered, at least then she would get away from her father…but it was likely that somebody would stop her In time. So at that point it wouldn't really mean anything.
She let out an irritated sigh.
"no, I'm not married."

Lars gave a knowing hum at the confirmation and nodded. “Is that why you are here then?” he asked casually. “Forced husband hunting? I saw that smile a moment ago.” he admitted with a raised brow. “This isn't your idea either. Being at this party.”

"No crap Sherlock, it doesn't take a detective to figure that out." She muttered, sighing as she danced with him. She thought for a few moments before responding. "if It were up to me, a lot of things would be different. But it's not up to me, so I'm here trying to socialize.*

(Welcome back!)

“Well, it's a good thing I’m not a detective then.” Lars quipped with a sly smirk. “That would have been too easy a case.” Though he raised an intrigued brow at her last two comments. “And what would you change if things were up to you?” he asked, curious.

(thanks)

She spotted her father nearby, and just whispered under her breath. "Not here." Before saying nothing else and continuing to away with the music as if she was genuinely trying to dance.
"Why exactly are you here?"

He nodded slightly, understanding that even dancing like this there were too many people who could overhear. “Would you care to get some fresh air? I don't believe there’s anyone on the veranda.” he offered politely before answering her question in a bored tone. “The same as you. Apparently, I need a good wife to help me get my life in order.” he quoted with a roll of his eyes.

She looks at him, before looking away. "Some fresh air would be appreciated, especially if it will help us get closer in the long run." She spoke, if only to get her father off of her back.
"You? Need a wife? Oh, how bothersome. I definitely don't see a reason for you to need someone to correct you at all."

Lars chuckled at both her replies and offered her his arm before only responding to her second comment. “Try telling that to my parents.” he quipped, knowing she was mocking him. “Though I imagine it is just as bothersome for you to find a husband your family would approve of.”

She moved to grab his arm, if only to keep up appearances. She listened to him talk, not bothering to comment on his first response as they moved to go outside.
"family? More like just my father." She muttered, "I guess you could say my family believes that I'm not good for anything other then a relationship between two houses. An alliance, a thing to handed off. However you see it."

Lars was also keeping up appearances, with a charming smile that would have most women swooning, as they walked to the veranda. But he nodded in some degree of understanding at her soft-spoken comments. “I’m assuming your father was the gentleman who I saw you with earlier.” he said matching her tone. “Though I can understand what you mean. My parents are not… they wish I was more like every other boring, excuse me, “respectable” noble gentleman.” he bemoaned, rolling his eyes.

She rolled her eyes as she listened to him complain about his family. She wishes she could smack his face and get him to shut up, feeling as if he had truly nothing to actually complain about.
She sighed softly, "oh and it would be such a horrible thing for you to be a more respectful gentlemen." She spoke, sarcasm dripping off of her voice as she talked. She looked to the side, off of the varanda.
"I wish I could get away from it all I guess, sometimes. I don't want to go with just anyone though, especially not some fat pig of a noble man."

Lars shrugged, letting her sarcasm roll off him, though he didn't blame her for it either. “I’m just not cut out for it. That's all I meant.” he said a little dismissively. “That does sound nice. Getting away from everything… but I know you don't mean just on a trip or something.” he smirked. “You have something in mind or just a vague idea?”

"Oh I don't know, I hardly believe any idea of mine would actually work." She thought for a few moments, frowning into the distance.
"We could always…just try and get them off our backs."

“Well, if you want to be defeatist about it.” Lars said, rolling his eyes at how easily she seemed to just accept being unhappy. But he raised a brow at her second comment. “And how would you suggest we do that? The only way I would be able to get them to leave me alone is if I were to get engaged.” he admitted.

"your really going to make me say it? Or are you just that stupid." She looked over at him, before sighing. She leaned against the balcony railing as she spoke to him.
"I'm suggesting that we pretend to be…romantically involved. You need your family off your back, and I need my father off of my back. The only way to do that…is by pretending that we are suitors to each other."

Lars nodded thoughtfully and sighed, running his hand through his hair. "First of all, I'm not stupid… I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page on this." he admitted. "I didn't want to assume that's where you were going."
"I understand what you're saying and… I don't object to the idea, but we're really going to have to work at convincing people that we are serious about that kind of relationship." he pointed out.

She grumbled as he pointed out the obvious of there situation. She walked over to him, looking him up and down as she held her arms close her chest, crossing them across it.

"I know…I loathe the idea of pretending to be passionate about somebody I am not…however, I can make it work." She spoke, leaning in close to whisper to his ear. To everyone else watching them it looked like she gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Can you?" She whispered, before pulling away from him.

Lars was admittedly surprised by Rachel’s bold action but only showed immediate charm as he met her gaze. “I most certainly can.” he whispered, lifting her hand to his lips and leaving a feather-light touch against her knuckles. “Would you permit me to call on you tomorrow, Ms. Watson?” he asked clearly enough to be heard by others but casually enough that they would not suspect that was his goal.

She stood there as he lifted her hand and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. She didn't dare look around, that would possibly give it away that they were wanting a reaction out of people. She hated acting like this…but it must be done if people were to believe them.
She offered a smile, Lars would know it was fake, but from a distance you wouldn't be able to tell.
"Of course…I shall see you tomorrow then?"

Lars smiled softly, giving anyone watching the impression they wanted to give. Though he was glad she hadn't looked away at his action. Perhaps, after this facade, Ms. Watson could have a future in acting.
“Tomorrow.” he agreed smoothly as he let go of her hand and bowed politely.

(time skip?)

(sure)

(hmmm what next)

(Do you want to skip to the next day when Lars “pays his visit” to Rachel?)

(sure)

It hadn't been hard for Lars to find where the Watson family lived. What had been hard was deciding whether or not to bring flowers, then what kind would at least convince Rachel’s family of what they wanted to believe.
He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair before knocking on the door.