RP: Food and Quidditch
Date: 11 June 2003 - 5 pm
Characters: Everybody who’d like to join (Please add your character’s tag when you enter)
Location: The Courtyard (Snitches over Snatch and Oliver and Tracey’s yet-to-be-named café)
Status: Public
Summary: Another opening, this time a collaboration of Quidditch and food.
Completion: Incomplete
( Walk right in, it’s around the back, just through the gate… )
Characters: Everybody who’d like to join (Please add your character’s tag when you enter)
Location: The Courtyard (Snitches over Snatch and Oliver and Tracey’s yet-to-be-named café)
Status: Public
Summary: Another opening, this time a collaboration of Quidditch and food.
Completion: Incomplete
( Walk right in, it’s around the back, just through the gate… )
He never did mind admitting his faults and even though being kicked off the team before the finals still stuck in his craw, he knew Katie was better and didn’t begrudge her that. Dean shook his head at the thought because being on the Pitch playing was the end of his childhood and innocence because in the next few months he was on the run from Voldemort and his decree about Mudbloods.
Dean followed her along, lost in his own thoughts as they dodged some people on brooms and then he looked around, surprised to see the number of people there. That was right before the smell of something delicious assaulted his nostrils and he could feel the tug of free food coming from the direction of the restaurant. When Barr spoke, Dean nodded and then smirked. “Yeah, well, you are looking a bit worn out lately. I’m thinking we might need to cut down on the…” He leaned close to her ear and whispered. “sex.” Dean kissed her cheek and tilted back before he added. “I don’t want to wear you out.” He looked around once more and then said, “Let’s go eat.”
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She gave his hand a small squeeze. “Don’t feel bad for wanting to have stayed on the team,” she said and looked up at him. “No, Katie didn’t deserve getting cursed, but that wasn’t your fault, so why should you pay the penance for liking the time you filled her spot on the team?” Slowly she shook her head. “Please don’t beat yourself up for that, Dean, tak?” Still looking up at him, she raised their joined hands and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, in a quiet console. “But do be glad that you are saving the ancient bathhouse. That was truly a damsel in distress.” Her smile turned a little sly before she continued; “and be happy that your supposed princess isn’t going to remind you that it’s usually you who grows hungry first…”
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“I’m always hungry.” Dean winked, wondering if she’d caught the innuendo. He chuckled a bit, then his stomach growled and he looked down in surprise before he frowned at his belly. “You always pick the worse times to let me down.” Dean patted his belly fondly and then said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry with you.” He looked over at Barr and grinned. “Well, maybe we should get a bite to eat. It’d be nice to try something new.”
“It’s okay. Let’s say I stayed on the team and actually became a decent player.” He mused, then scratched at the stubble on his chin. “This is a fantasy though, remember that.” Dean smiled and looked over at the Quidditch store. “Then there wasn’t a war and I became a pro. Then there wouldn’t be an Annwn because Britain would be fine instead of the smoldering pit of shite it is now.” Stopping, Dean pulled her to him. “Then you might have just gone on and moved to the Ukraine and we might have never met.” He took his finger and tilted her chin toward him, then kissed her softly before he murmured. “And that might have been a tragedy.”
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As she was looking up at him, she rubbed the back of her hands against his belly. She hadn’t ever taken offence of his growling stomach, quite the opposite, really, although by now, the sound had become so familiar that it had simply become a thing to make her smile as well as know approximately the time of day. Still, his comment about always being hungry, and the real meaning behind it, hadn’t been lost on her. She let her hands drop, once more lacing her fingers with his as they closed in on a table outside the café. “So it seems that we first quiet your tummy and then see about satiating a little of that eternal hunger of yours?” She looked up at him, her eyes just a shade darker - he just had that influence on her. “Now you just have to figure out what you want,” she added with a small smirk as she handed him the menu.
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He pulled away, sliding his hand into hers and leading her to the table. "If ifs and butts were candy and nuts." He shrugged and then smiled at Barr. "All I know is that we met and everything to this point worked toward that I reckon, even if it was the way I put on my socks the day we bumped into each other." Dean nodded before he mused. "So whatever happened led to this although I'm sure that I came up with a bad example because there's not a chance I would ever become a professional Quidditch player." Dean chuckled at her innuendos as they sat down before he craned his neck and leaned into her ear while he whispered. "Eat first and if you keep that up, we may need to find us a nice quiet spot to see about having a snack."
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As she looked over the menu, she kept glancing over at him as she spoke. “Maybe it was what we did that lead us here,” she agreed with him, “and if that’s so, then I’ve no complaints at all either.” She sent him a warm smile as she put down the menu. She knew what she wanted, both to eat and afterwards. “But even so, you did bump into me, and I’d been going to that coffee shop every day for months before that, just like you’d been coming there too, so it was only a matter of time, I think.” She looked down to hide a shy smile. “At least I’d like to think that.”
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"Good. I'd hate to have you bitching because we met each other here, especially after we bumped into each other at that coffee shop." Dean smiled and then ran his hand through his hair. "Though you should have bought me coffee, me being a starving artist and all." He frowned as he decided on a roast beef sandwich before he put down his menu. Dean folded his long arms onto the table and then grinned. "Aren't we kind of back to saying it's fate again?"
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She quirked an eyebrow at him, not menacing, merely curious. “If I had bought you coffee that day, I would have known your name, which means that I would have recognized you in The Mellow Mushroom on the evening they gave you my pizza. I wouldn’t have been suspicious of you, and you wouldn’t have had the chance to show me that I was mistaken to think that you were following me.” She paused for a moment as her smile turned softer, more serene. “Also, think, that if I had bought you coffee, and we had gotten to know each other, even if only superficially, we might not have ended up living in the same building. Although, if we did, we wouldn’t have found out that we liked spending time together, before we got to know each other. It could too easily have felt forced, but not once did it ever do that with you. Not even when I didn’t know your name.” She looked at him, until her eyes finally reached his. “But I’ll buy you a coffee now, if you trust me enough to choose one that won’t keep you awake for a month.”
She looked up as a girl, a few years younger than themselves, introduced herself and asked to take their orders. “I’d like a chicken salad and a glass of white wine, please,” Barr ordered before she looked to Dean. “What would you like?”
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She was really confusing him now and while he understood her argument in some ways, there were just far too many what nots and have hoosies that Dean didn't really comprehend. What if he'd forgotten his wallet and went back home? What if his roommate had wanted to go down with him? It was mind boggling and hard to decipher. While they could have continued this conversation, he really thought it could become too much, so he leaned over until his lips were close to hers and smiled. "I'll just say I'm glad the way things went and I wouldn't change a thing."
"I'll have a jumbo roast beef sandwich with crisps and an ale." Dean closed his menu somewhat emphatically and handed it to the young women. He then scratched his head and smiled. "I think outings like this are brilliant with you, Barr."
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When Dean had ordered his food too, Barr watched him for a moment. His smile was so brilliant, and knowing the pain he carried around inside of him, she treasured his smile all that much more. “Thank you,” she told him with a smile, before her voice took on a slightly teasing tone. “I like to make up for not buying an unfamiliar, starving artist a cup of coffee.” Her smile turned brighter, and she hoped he knew that it was much, much more than that, that was the reason she liked their outings, well, all the time they spent together as much as she did.
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