(no subject)
Who: Murdock Varletti (ALADDIN) and Velvet Lyon (SCHEHERAZADE)
What: Murdock finally scores a date with his Librarian - will he blow it?
When: Valentine's Day; evening (backdated)
Where: Cercle Rouge French Bistro, New York
Rating: PG, unless Velvet is feeling frisky. (Oh, you're hilarious, Ryan. :P)
Murdock: Anyone that had encountered Murdock prior to his date could attest to his excitement about this evening; he would brag ad nauseam to pretty much anyone who would listen. He did so with characteristic pomp and was taciturn on the details of his plans, but rest assured they ran the full gamut of cliches: flowers, chocolate, dinner, dancing, and so forth. However, the more astute might have picked up on something else; something that was especially evident when he did show up at Velvet and Cygna's door, with a full bouquet of red roses and a comically large heart-shaped box of chocolates. He was nervous.
Sure, he covered it up with the standard bravado - offering lavish praise upon Velvet, buttering up the roommate, and so forth - but there was a foreign edge to his mannerisms that made him speak a little less confidently, made him occasionally fumble for a word or do something clumsy. He was dressed along the lines of lazy formal, with a fitted, untucked dress shirt over dress pants and shoes, a black blazer, and a loose bow tie. it looked as though an effort had been made to comb his hair, but then second thoughts had made him muss it up, then comb it, then muss it again.
The venue he had swept Velvet off to was called Cercle Rouge, with attention called to the fact that it was a French eatery for his French belle. The trendy bistro had set itself up for the special day, and it became evident that Murdock must have actually made reservations - and dropped some money - to get a spot for the evening. There was a fixed menu, along with champaign and wine, all of which was worked into the fixed price, and Murdock was sure that they both had glasses topped off with each at all times. Furthermore there was a live big band performing a selection of jaunty swing tunes, the occasional waltz, and of course plenty of 'surprise' slow songs, as well as a small dance floor.
The four course prix-fixe menu had offered a fine selection, of which Murdock had selected the huitres gratinees (with veiled references to the aphrodisiac power of oysters) as an appetizer and the carre d'agneau as his entree. He fussed over whatever Velvet ordered, repeatedly asking if it was to her satisfaction and offering to send it back or speak to the chef if there was any hint of trouble. He was sitting back with satisfaction as the dark chocolate and raspberry mousse for lovers came for dessert, arching his brow playfully as their waiter stated the name.
Before beginning the dessert, he lifted his flute of champaign to Velvet, flashing her one of his most charming smiles, "I would just like to take a moment to toast to this evening, and to your company - I don't think I could think of anyone I'd rather be spending my Valentine's Day with, and I'm including the entire list of People's 50 Hottest People in my calculations. Have I mentioned you look fantastic?"
Velvet: "Only a few times," Velvet replied, mildly. At this reiteration, though, she didn't blush as she did earlier in the evening, and rather just gave a wry, amused smile as she lifted her glass to meet Murdock's. The date was rather like a miniature re-enactment of the history of their relationship: shy and flustered in the beginning, and slowly reaching a level of comfort that wasn't quite free of non-platonic worries, but accustomed to the compliments and tall tales. Indeed, when Murdock originally showed up at the door Velvet had made her roommate answer it, and refused to come out of the bathroom for a full three minutes after she heard the quickly muffled laughter that greeted her enthusiastic young suitor. When she did emerge, little black dress and all, Murdock's comically cliched roses and chocolate were met with good-natured laughter as well - but she accepted them graciously, and not without a small amount of blushing. (Or a large amount, as Cygna would tease later on - but really, she can't be blamed, she hasn't really been on a date of this caliber in... well, let's not start counting months and years.)
She was - much to Murdock's delight, no doubt - suitably awed by the restaurant, music and Valentine's menu - and especially by the obvious effort Murdock went into getting them. Although she did cast some teasing remarks about how Murdock could afford all of this but not pay his dues, Velvet was obviously very impressed, and flattered (cue more blushing). Admittedly conversation was perhaps a bit slow at first, but eventually they fell into easy story-telling - well. Murdock started telling stories, and Velvet, amused, encouraged more. Her meal was more than satisfactory, she assured him between bites and yarns, and after the second glass of wine she was noticeably more relaxed.
"To this evening, and your company," she repeated as the glasses clinked together. "It's really been lovely, Murdock, thank you."
Murdock: Murdock was not so self-involved that he didn't notice the change in Velvet's demeanor, characterized mostly by the fact that she wasn't rolling her eyes and generally treating him like a small child, as usual. The realization bolstered his confidence significantly, and he became particularly prone to beaming like a moron when he wasn't paying attention. He enthusiastically wove fantastic tales for Velvet's amusement, gesturing theatrically with his utensils and occasionally attracting the attention of neighbouring tables in his excess. But then, if it got a giggle from his company, he certainly didn't mind.
"Were it only able to go on forever." He added as their glasses clinked together softly, and tilted the flute to his lips. Uncharacteristically, he wasn't diving into the open alcohol with his usual gusto, actually showing some self-awareness regarding his low tolerance. Aside from a slight flush to his cheeks and a slight looseness in his words, he wasn't showing any serious signs of inebriation. He placed his glass down and took up his fork to dig into the chocolatey dessert, continuing tactfully between mouthfuls. "I just wanted to make sure that you were able to get away from all that Librarian nonsense, if only for one night. Sometimes I worry, you know." He waved a fork admonishingly, "I worry that it's forcing you to grow up too fast. You need to stop and enjoy your youth every once in a while, Vel. Smell the roses, and so forth. Let your hair down." He smiles and cocked his head to the side, adding in a distracted tone, "I really like it down. It looks great like that." Okay, maybe some signs of inebriation.
Velvet: Well, maybe there was a little bit of eye-rolling - but always accompanied by a giggle, which came more freely the more wine and champagne she had. (Although it must be said that her tolerance for the stuff was rather higher than Murdock's.) Like now: "Growing up too fast? I'm twenty-two! Twenty-three, in..." she paused, weighing the pros and cons of having Murdock know exactly when her birthday was (doubtless he'd been aware of the date in the past, but his memory really couldn't be trusted). "Well, soon," she finished, nonchalantly brushing the exact details away with her dessert spoon. "And I enjoy my youth!" she protested, scooping up some of the rich mousse, but not quite yet lifting it to her lips, "What does that even mean, anyway? It's purely a Western construct, you know, enjoying your youth, foot-loose, fancy-free." Or something like that. Perhaps she was a little aware that she wasn't as, well, 'fun' as most other girls her age. But her protestations stopped with a mouthful of chocolate, and she was content to let it lie there if her companion was as well.
Murdock: Murdock's brow raised expectantly as Velvet's birthday lingered on her lips; his lips curling in knowing smirk, hinting at all the mischievous things he would likely do with the information. When it was denied he flashed a defeated pout, though a clear mental note was made that the event was approaching, and words would need to be exchanged with Cygna. "Oh really?" Murdock retorted doubtfully, though still with a playful undertone. "And when was the last time you did something, as you say, 'foot-loose and fancy-free'?" He lifted his flute towards his lips, but paused to add quickly, "And, for the record, this date does not count."
Velvet: "I..." The dark-haired young Librarian paused, looking off into some corner of her mind, casting about for something that would be suitably fun for Murdock's tastes. Going to the fabric store with Cygna didn't count. Nor did going to that new tea house. It was highly unlikely that her companion would think finding a first-edition copy of Great Expectations in The Strand very exciting (not for buying, of course, but being in the presence of the book was good enough). It was really beginning to look quite dire, as her pause extended and became rather heavily pregnant. Her expression very nearly started to fall when she decided, in the spirit of their previous conversation, to lie. "I took the Ebony Horse to Paris," she said, finally, looking Murdock in the eye for only the barest second before she looked away, and down at her mousse, which she busied herself with once more. "Is that foot-loose and fancy-free enough?"
Murdock: Murdock's eyes watched his librarian intently as she ran through possible options in her head; it was an infuriatingly smug gaze, that of the victor who's well aware he's already won the battle being fought. However, the answer he did receive was obviously not one he expected, and he looked suitably shocked, and then impressed. "Really?" He asked emphatically, almost in a whisper, as though worried that their table neighbours might catch wind of this little bit of scandal. "Vel, I didn't know you had it in you! That's spectacular! I don't think I'd ever have figured you for a joy rider, I'm impressed! Especially after all the times you told me I couldn't--"
His complimentary ramble stopped short as a thought seemed to permeate his mildly alcohol-addled mind, and his eyes slid slowly back to Velvet, a mix of suspicion and sheepishness mingled in his expression. "You're lying to me, aren't you?" It's an accusation, but he seems more impressed by this prospect than he was by the lie itself.
Velvet: "No!" Velvet quipped, notably not making eye contact as she shaped valleys and mountains into her chocolate mousse with her spoon. She looked up for the briefest second, and flashed the briefest of smiles, "I went! It was beautiful, charming, very Romantic, and the weather was quite nice, luckily, for I hadn't thought to check the weather before I went, it was very spur-of-the moment," she went on, seemingly fascinated by a light fixture on the opposite wall. "I walked along the Champs Elysee, and the Seine, and stopped at bistro, but I'd forgotten to change my money, so a debonair young Frenchman had to pay for my lunch. Then I came back." Having gained confidence in her lie (well, in her mind, it was less a lie and more a small fictional story at this point), Velvet looked back at Murdock, and smiled again, almost coyly. "Not a very exciting adventure, I know. No car chases, no declarations of true love." She had a spoonful of chocolate. "This is very good, isn't it?"
Murdock: Murdock settled in to listen to the details of her adventure with open amusement - his fingers interlaced and his chin resting on the cradle they created, reacting to each point with an exaggerated expression. Little oohs and ahhs, gasps of surprised, and of course an absolutely scandalized look at the introduction of a debonair young Frenchmen. He wasn't making any effort to pretend he actually believed her, but he wasn't calling her out either - he just seemed to greatly enjoy the charade, and there was certainly a hint of earnest adoration beneath his patronizing responses.
"Well then," he said decisively, scooping up the linen napkin in his lap, folding it, and tossing it down onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet, "I certainly underestimated your boldness, Velvet. I stand corrected! It's a good thing you enlightened me, though, because you see, previously I was quite convinced that you would never do something so rash as dancing with me..." Oh, yes indeed. Murdock was standing dramatically from his chair, mousse forgotten, and offering his hand to his dinner companion, ""But clearly I had misjudged you!"
Velvet: Well, that backfired. Velvet looked suitably startled, glancing back and forth between Murdock, the dance floor, and her unfinished mousse. There was a vague gesture at the dessert, and she looked ready to protest, and then seemingly thought better of it. As her deep desire to not embarrass herself on the dance floor warred internally with her respect for poetic justice, she looked more and more flustered, blush rising in her cheeks until finally she spluttered, "But... I can't! I don't know how!" At last, her expression settled on desperation, helplessness - please don't make her do this! There are so many people! She made absolutely no move to rise from her chair, much less take Murdock's hand. Indeed, if there were a word for the atmosphere surrounding a person trying through force of will to adhere themselves to a chair and thus become immovable, it would be well-employed here.
Murdock: Murdock was having none of it, and his coy expression conveyed as much. "Oh please, like I do?" He retorted playfully, "And I'd bet dollars to donuts that I'm bad enough to make even you look good out there. Now come on," He grinned wide as he reached down to deftly pluck Velvet's hand up and, with a few gentle tugs and as much theatrics as is necessary, pulls her up from her chair and out onto the moderately populated dance floor.
Several other couples were already enjoying the music, a jaunty modern waltz fusion of sorts, that was fast paced enough to let people make up moves at their leisure. Still holding Velvet's hand as he drew her out onto the dance floor, he turned suddenly to face her, dipping in an extravagant bow, as one imagines would typically be used to kick off a waltz in ye ole times. At which point, whether he received a curtsy or not, he would begin to dance - nothing difficult or serious, nor particularly intimate, only keeping one of Velvet's hands in his and occasionally pressing his other to her side or the small of her back to give direction if she seemed particularly flustered.
Velvet: Theatrics weren't all that necessary - Velvet was as startled by Murdock's oddly humble way of dragging her onto the dance floor. No, 'Ah, but I trained under the best!' or 'I nearly went on to Ballroom Nationals!'? It was terribly unlike Murdock, and even though she wouldn't have believed a word of it, she still expected it.
And so Aladdin led Scheherazade onto the dance floor, though she followed with visible reluctance, she also didn't make much of a scene about it either. Rolling her eyes at his illustrious bow, Velvet dipped the merest of sardonic little curtsies in return. And, they began to dance. At first, of course, Velvet barely moved her feet, and the proximity - while certainly not intimate - was far more intimate than she was used to. In fact, she really hadn't been this intentionally close to a guy since, well, her short-lived high school sweetheart. For that matter, she hadn't danced since then either. So, she misstepped, and blushed, and bit her lip, and looked at all the other dancers, at the tables, at the band, at anyone but Murdock. And once she realized what she was doing, she began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, I really am terrible at this!"
Murdock: Murdock matched Velvet's taciturnity with his own excess; he didn't strictly ham it up, but any time she looked as though she was beginning to get particularly uncomfortable or self-conscious, he performed some ridiculous move or another like the sprinkler or the running man. He was attempting to draw any excess attention off of her and onto himself, but also, more importantly, to get her to laugh and relax. For his part he was having a wonderful time, and for once, he had actually lied on the side of humility; he was a decent dancer, and managed to lead in some basic swing and waltz-like moves.
He was still chuckling and hamming it up when the music suddenly shifted gears, as it tends to do, into an unmistakable slow song. One of his hands still held hers, and the other rested on her waist as if by kismet. All around them couples moved, easily or awkwardly, into more intimate dance steps, and after a flash of panic at having been caught unprepared, Murdock offered an almost sheepish look of invitation - he, of course, was game. His grips tightened to hold her in a light embrace, and should she not object, he began to dance a slow, rhythmic high-school-prom style dance.
Velvet: His antics were met with their intended goal - Velvet laughed, and buried her face in one palm, and shook her head, and rolled her eyes. For all that people like to paint New Yorkers as cynical hard-asses, their neighbors on the dance floor cast only amused and encouraging glances at the two of them. It didn't take over-long for the young woman to relax enough so she could be lead in a dance without stepping on Murdock's toes, and once she managed a few steps that could pass for actual dancing on her part, her expression shifted abruptly from sheepish to delighted, and Murdock got the benefit of her smile.
Of course, that smile froze the moment the music changed into the dreaded slow dance. With a great internal wrench, however, she managed to not flee from the dance floor (that was Cinderella's gig, after all), and instead gave Murdock a shy smile, and shrug, and allowed his embrace. Of course, she couldn't just let her own arms hang limply; her hands on his shoulder and... elbow, she didn't really know where to put the other hand, were just barely touching him. And yes, that infamous pink was back in her cheeks - though really, it was indistinguishable from the flush from all the faster-paced dancing.
After a few measures of this dancing (doubtless the placement of her hand having been corrected), she said, abruptly, "Thank you," finally looking her dance partner straight in the eye.
Murdock: Murdock smiled a very pleased smile as Velvet accepted the dance, and thus began to lead, deftly repositioning her hands as he did so. He drew her in as close as she seemed comfortable being drawn, and while she glanced this way and that, trying to find an acceptable place to look while they danced, he never took his gaze from her eyes. He was amused by her flustered state, as he almost always was, but there was also an unmistakable fondness in the look.
So caught up was he in enjoying the moment that he was startled to find her suddenly meeting his gaze, and he looked momentarily stunned when she spoke, at first thinking this was the tail end of a sentence he had tuned out for. After a moment he offered a little modest smile and shrugged his shoulders. "For what? This was your gift to me, remember?"
Velvet: "For not taking me skydiving?" Velvet suggested, her head canting slightly to one side, amused again at Murdock's uncharacteristic modesty. "And for not complaining when I stepped on your toes," she added, glancing downward at their feet as though to make sure they were still acceptably unconnected. "I'm having a lovely time, in spite of all prior misgivings," she finished, looking up again with a smile, very gently teasing. "So, thank you." The corner of her lips twitched upward again, and then her gaze shifted shyly away once more, over his shoulder as they continued to sway to the music. Around them, couples danced cheek-to-cheek (or cheek-to-shoulder, depending on the difference in height), but, predictably, Velvet kept her relative distance.
Murdock: At this answer Murdock chuckled, his head hanging down for a moment in mirth before he lifted it and retorted coyly, "Well, this is only the first date." As the gratitude was reiterated he practically glowed with delight - he'd half imagined her to be consumed by abject horror by now, and merely nodded his head quietly to receive it. Of course, the thought also immediately struck him that this meant the date was actually going well... which meant that there were certain formulaic patterns to follow! Patterns he hadn't really expected to come into play, but there was no avoiding them now!
Thankfully Velvet broke eye contact, so she wouldn't see him starting to look vaguely nervous, as little voices of encouragement and doubt blared within his mind. Eventually the 'do-it's' won out, as they tend to do with the support of champagne behind them, and thus Murdock leaned slowly forward, his eyes closing slightly, to deliver a possibly surprising, but self-consciously tender kiss even as the last chords of the slow song were struck.
Velvet: Of course, keeping that distance meant Murdock had room to kiss her, unexpectedly. Not really 'out of the blue', of course, since this was a date, and it was Murdock, but that didn't stop Velvet's reaction from being any less painfully awkward and shy. Simultaneously she froze mid-sway, stumbling again on Murdock's toes, and jolted in her skin; his kiss may have been sweet and tender, but she wasn't prepared, so lips were pressed hard against teeth. Her eyes, of course, went wide instead of shut, and in the second it took her to pull away, one hand going to a bruised mouth, her face managed to burn several shades of red.
"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, more out of sympathy for the soreness the failed kiss had produced than her failure to reciprocate.
Murdock: This? This isn't exactly the crowning achievement of Murdock's romantic life, right here. In fact, it rests somewhere on the opposite end of said spectrum. As Murdock finds his lips briefly mashed against Velvet's teeth, only to have said teeth violently yanked away, words like 'mortification' begin to seem far too mild. He actually hovers frozen in mid-kiss for one horrified second before straightening back up with all the dignity he still has allotted to him, which at this point can be calculated in fractions. A few stifled noises of amusement or sympathy can be heard from the people around them.
He stands perfectly still, looking somewhere over Velvet's head, consciously willing himself to not die of embarrassment. Once he's regained control of his faculties he assumes the closest thing he can to a good-natured, dismissive smile. "Don't mention it." He offers glibly, "That was... that was my fault entirely. I didn't telegraph that properly at all."
Velvet: Hand still clapped over her mouth, cheeks still blazing (the muffled noises from the peanut gallery really didn't help), Velvet just stood there for a moment, her eyes searching Murdock's face frantically. What should she do? She had very clearly made something of a fool of him - and herself - and as the band started up again with a more lively tune, she found herself at a complete loss. So, she apologized again. "No, really, I'm sorry! I was just...! I didn't expect... are you all right?" She took some initial steps back towards the relative safety of their table, and then stepped back towards Murdock again, almost taking his hand, and then deciding against it. "Let's... let's sit down." Oh, dear. Velvet hurried back into her seat, the very epitome of awkward now: shoulders tight, gaze askance at a wrinkle in the tablecloth, fingers anxiously playing her hair, bottom lip chewed-upon. She could get as far as 'back to the table', but beyond that, she really didn't know how to remedy the situation.
Murdock: Murdock, for his part, was doing a surprisingly good job of not freaking out about the situation - though his grim smile and even tone belied all the effort he was putting into not doing so. "I'm fine, don't be silly." He dismissed, touching his lips as if to jokingly check for blood, and then waving the notion away. "You don't need to be sorry, unless it is for being so irresistible so as to drive me to such a boneheaded move." He slid awkwardly back into his chair, and now he was the one having trouble with making and holding eye contact - and possibly even a little flush in his cheeks.
Velvet: "Oh, don't say that!" Velvet said, chagrined and inwardly tortured by the position she'd put Murdock in. "It wasn't boneheaded!" No, wait, that wasn't what she wanted to say; commence the splutters as she tried to backtrack, "I mean, well, I wasn't really expecting... but, really I shou... it wasn't bad... it was... oh, uhm!" Her voice got tinier and tinier until the waiter passed by, and she spoke up again, hastily, "Check, please?" Of course, once she said that, she realized that her eagerness to end the date as quickly as possible now wasn't exactly the most diplomatic way of going about things, and she looked, mortified at her own baseness, "I mean, unless you don't want...?" This really wasn't going well. The waiter paused, looking between the two of them with a cocked eyebrow.
Murdock: At Velvet's flailing Murdock managed to muster an earnest chuckle despite himself - she was pretty amusing when she flailed, and this was possibly the most flaily he'd ever seen her. "If that's your idea of not bad," he said wryly, leaning forward on one elbow to address her directly, "Then my condolences on your past experiences." He was managing humour, however self-deprecatory, and was becoming slowly less embarrassed about the whole fiasco. He even raised one eyebrow and added with a hint of more characteristic flirtation, "I assure you, I can do better."
Then the waiter was standing beside them, and Murdock looked from him to Velvet, who received a benign smile, "No, that's cool. I should have quit while I was ahead, but this is probably the next best thing, right?" He grinned playfully and nodded to the waiter, who hurried off to fetch the check.
Velvet: Finally - Murdock's return to his flirtatious self broke Velvet's flail, and she smiled, gave a familiar, exasperated sigh, and she even giggled, looking down again at the table. The waiter departed; she visibly relaxed, shoulders easing from their tight squeeze, fingers untangling from her hair. "It was bad. A little!" she amended, quickly, just in case Murdock suddenly didn't find her admission humorous. "And I'm sure you can do better, if your track record is any indication. I don't think you'd have lasted more than a minute with any of those girls if you were a terrible kisser." Velvet smirked, teasingly. Idly, she knocked the handle of her dessert spoon against the saucer with her fingertips. "And I stand by my earlier statement - lip-smashing aside, this has been a very nice... date, Murdock."
Murdock: Murdock gave Velvet a playfully admonishing look as she brought up his notorious reputation, as he was wont to do - but he didn't launch into some ardent defense, letting it slide as mere playful banter. The waiter returned with their bill, which he accepted directly hand to hand, and with a deft motion discreetly tucked a credit card into the folder. Yes, Murdock was definitely going to have to pay for this one on credit. And pay for it for some time to come, given his normal state of finances. The real question was where he would have found a bank that would actually give him a line of credit.
He cringed in good-natured embarrassment at the mention of lip-smashing, but it didn't stop him from turning mischievous eyes on Velvet and countering with a coy, "The first of many, I hope?"
Velvet: Velvet barely had time to register the arrival of the bill, much less protest when Murdock took it in hand. "...let me cover the tip?" she offered, frowning at the black envelope. If anyone knew what sort of state Murdock's finances were in, aside from Elena, it was his Librarian. Then again, this was a date, and Velvet really wasn't well-versed enough in the world of romance to know that she could break tradition and insist that she pay herself, or at least pay half. Nevertheless, she reached for her handbag and pulled out a twenty, handing it over just as Murdock asked his playful little question.
"Oh, well," she said, trying so very hard not to blush again, and failing utterly. "We'll see. If you can fit it into your busy schedule," she finished, returning to the gentle teasing.
Murdock: Murdock waved away any notion of covering tip and offered bills with all the exaggerated indignity of a grave affront. "Absolutely not! This is our first date, and I would not hear of my famed chivalry being compromised in such a manner. Besides, I know that the Atheneum totally underpays you, for all the work you do." He waved his hands until the twenty was returned to her purse, at which point he cocked his head to the side and added slyly, "I just might consider more negotiations on our next outing, though. I am, after all, a progressive, modern man."
The waiter returned with the receipt, which Murdock filled out, signed and returned to him. He then proceeded to stand, and once Velvet had done so as well, led her towards the coat check with the gentlest touch of his hand to the small of her back. "You should know by now, Velvet, that my schedule is always wide open for you. There is no higher precedence I can possibly conceive of." At the check he exchanged their tickets, first holding out her jacket to help her into it before sliding into his own.
Velvet: She made only the slightest of withering faces as this modern, progressive man held out her coat for her, but she made no overt objections. Doing up the buttons, she pursed her lips in contemplation. "Above Gertie? Karisma? Rachel? Bianca?" she asked, her tone cool but not out of jealousy; a mischievous little smirk played at the edges of her mouth, and her eyes danced, though focused on a ceiling corner. Twining her scarf around her neck, Velvet allowed Murdock to lead the way outside into the brisk New York City evening, people hustling past them on the sidewalk, pink lights twinkling in a window across the street. "Are you going back to the Pen?" she asked, turning to look at her companion as they walked down the street towards the subway station. From here, her apartment and the Pentamerone were in completely opposite directions.
Murdock: Murdock purse his lips in a guilty smirk at the teasing, but he rose to the occasion, making a decisive gesture with one hand as if to dismiss everyone in the above roster. "Far above." Was all he answered, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk outside. Other couples were leaving as well, or wandering down the street, and a short line of taxis waited in front to whisk people away to their destinations. He turned to face Velvet with a smile, which flickered only slightly as the full weight of their situation crashed down upon them: the date was ending, and it was time to decide exactly what that meant.
"Yeah, I suppose..." He answered awkwardly, rocking slightly on his heels in the nippy winter cold. The realization that they were going in opposite directions dawned on him, and in an excruciating tone that was half-joking and unsuccessfully whimsical, he cocked his head and asked, "Do you want to... come too? I know it's, like, work for you, but... we could have coffee? I mean, if you want to..." Cue a bit of helpless and increasingly embarrassed babbling as Murdock, yet again, totally starts to drop the ball.
Velvet: Luckily for Murdock, his invitation for her to 'come back to his place', as it were, was met with laughter and not more blushing and spluttering. Hands in her pocket, Velvet laughed, and shook her head; the look she gave Murdock was equal parts good-naturedly amused, and fond, but yes, still, not quite going there. "No - I think I'll take the 1 back up to Harlem," she nodded towards the Franklin Ave. stop, which they had come upon. "But thank you, Murdock, really - it was lovely. I'll see you later." She smiled, and then, so very quickly, leaned in to brush her lips against his cheek. Then she was gone, down the steps descending into the subway station, lost amongst the stream of people coming up and going down.
Murdock: Murdock was simultaneously relieved that Velvet had ended his babbling and crestfallen that she had answered in the negative, even though he knew she was going to. He was still in the middle of reconciling these emotions when he found himself ambushed with a fleeting cheek-kiss, which stunned him into full silence. All he could do was lift one hand for a weak wave, the fingers slowly moving to his cheek the moment she disappeared down into the subway.
Slowly the stunned look melted away into a look of sheer self-satisfaction, and with a single nod, he turned to begin off in the opposite direction. He moved off down the road towards the Pen with an unmistakable swagger in his step, and because he could never resist a good cliche, hopped up in a rather skillful heelclick right before turning the corner.
Oh, yeah.
What: Murdock finally scores a date with his Librarian - will he blow it?
When: Valentine's Day; evening (backdated)
Where: Cercle Rouge French Bistro, New York
Rating: PG, unless Velvet is feeling frisky. (Oh, you're hilarious, Ryan. :P)
Murdock: Anyone that had encountered Murdock prior to his date could attest to his excitement about this evening; he would brag ad nauseam to pretty much anyone who would listen. He did so with characteristic pomp and was taciturn on the details of his plans, but rest assured they ran the full gamut of cliches: flowers, chocolate, dinner, dancing, and so forth. However, the more astute might have picked up on something else; something that was especially evident when he did show up at Velvet and Cygna's door, with a full bouquet of red roses and a comically large heart-shaped box of chocolates. He was nervous.
Sure, he covered it up with the standard bravado - offering lavish praise upon Velvet, buttering up the roommate, and so forth - but there was a foreign edge to his mannerisms that made him speak a little less confidently, made him occasionally fumble for a word or do something clumsy. He was dressed along the lines of lazy formal, with a fitted, untucked dress shirt over dress pants and shoes, a black blazer, and a loose bow tie. it looked as though an effort had been made to comb his hair, but then second thoughts had made him muss it up, then comb it, then muss it again.
The venue he had swept Velvet off to was called Cercle Rouge, with attention called to the fact that it was a French eatery for his French belle. The trendy bistro had set itself up for the special day, and it became evident that Murdock must have actually made reservations - and dropped some money - to get a spot for the evening. There was a fixed menu, along with champaign and wine, all of which was worked into the fixed price, and Murdock was sure that they both had glasses topped off with each at all times. Furthermore there was a live big band performing a selection of jaunty swing tunes, the occasional waltz, and of course plenty of 'surprise' slow songs, as well as a small dance floor.
The four course prix-fixe menu had offered a fine selection, of which Murdock had selected the huitres gratinees (with veiled references to the aphrodisiac power of oysters) as an appetizer and the carre d'agneau as his entree. He fussed over whatever Velvet ordered, repeatedly asking if it was to her satisfaction and offering to send it back or speak to the chef if there was any hint of trouble. He was sitting back with satisfaction as the dark chocolate and raspberry mousse for lovers came for dessert, arching his brow playfully as their waiter stated the name.
Before beginning the dessert, he lifted his flute of champaign to Velvet, flashing her one of his most charming smiles, "I would just like to take a moment to toast to this evening, and to your company - I don't think I could think of anyone I'd rather be spending my Valentine's Day with, and I'm including the entire list of People's 50 Hottest People in my calculations. Have I mentioned you look fantastic?"
Velvet: "Only a few times," Velvet replied, mildly. At this reiteration, though, she didn't blush as she did earlier in the evening, and rather just gave a wry, amused smile as she lifted her glass to meet Murdock's. The date was rather like a miniature re-enactment of the history of their relationship: shy and flustered in the beginning, and slowly reaching a level of comfort that wasn't quite free of non-platonic worries, but accustomed to the compliments and tall tales. Indeed, when Murdock originally showed up at the door Velvet had made her roommate answer it, and refused to come out of the bathroom for a full three minutes after she heard the quickly muffled laughter that greeted her enthusiastic young suitor. When she did emerge, little black dress and all, Murdock's comically cliched roses and chocolate were met with good-natured laughter as well - but she accepted them graciously, and not without a small amount of blushing. (Or a large amount, as Cygna would tease later on - but really, she can't be blamed, she hasn't really been on a date of this caliber in... well, let's not start counting months and years.)
She was - much to Murdock's delight, no doubt - suitably awed by the restaurant, music and Valentine's menu - and especially by the obvious effort Murdock went into getting them. Although she did cast some teasing remarks about how Murdock could afford all of this but not pay his dues, Velvet was obviously very impressed, and flattered (cue more blushing). Admittedly conversation was perhaps a bit slow at first, but eventually they fell into easy story-telling - well. Murdock started telling stories, and Velvet, amused, encouraged more. Her meal was more than satisfactory, she assured him between bites and yarns, and after the second glass of wine she was noticeably more relaxed.
"To this evening, and your company," she repeated as the glasses clinked together. "It's really been lovely, Murdock, thank you."
Murdock: Murdock was not so self-involved that he didn't notice the change in Velvet's demeanor, characterized mostly by the fact that she wasn't rolling her eyes and generally treating him like a small child, as usual. The realization bolstered his confidence significantly, and he became particularly prone to beaming like a moron when he wasn't paying attention. He enthusiastically wove fantastic tales for Velvet's amusement, gesturing theatrically with his utensils and occasionally attracting the attention of neighbouring tables in his excess. But then, if it got a giggle from his company, he certainly didn't mind.
"Were it only able to go on forever." He added as their glasses clinked together softly, and tilted the flute to his lips. Uncharacteristically, he wasn't diving into the open alcohol with his usual gusto, actually showing some self-awareness regarding his low tolerance. Aside from a slight flush to his cheeks and a slight looseness in his words, he wasn't showing any serious signs of inebriation. He placed his glass down and took up his fork to dig into the chocolatey dessert, continuing tactfully between mouthfuls. "I just wanted to make sure that you were able to get away from all that Librarian nonsense, if only for one night. Sometimes I worry, you know." He waved a fork admonishingly, "I worry that it's forcing you to grow up too fast. You need to stop and enjoy your youth every once in a while, Vel. Smell the roses, and so forth. Let your hair down." He smiles and cocked his head to the side, adding in a distracted tone, "I really like it down. It looks great like that." Okay, maybe some signs of inebriation.
Velvet: Well, maybe there was a little bit of eye-rolling - but always accompanied by a giggle, which came more freely the more wine and champagne she had. (Although it must be said that her tolerance for the stuff was rather higher than Murdock's.) Like now: "Growing up too fast? I'm twenty-two! Twenty-three, in..." she paused, weighing the pros and cons of having Murdock know exactly when her birthday was (doubtless he'd been aware of the date in the past, but his memory really couldn't be trusted). "Well, soon," she finished, nonchalantly brushing the exact details away with her dessert spoon. "And I enjoy my youth!" she protested, scooping up some of the rich mousse, but not quite yet lifting it to her lips, "What does that even mean, anyway? It's purely a Western construct, you know, enjoying your youth, foot-loose, fancy-free." Or something like that. Perhaps she was a little aware that she wasn't as, well, 'fun' as most other girls her age. But her protestations stopped with a mouthful of chocolate, and she was content to let it lie there if her companion was as well.
Murdock: Murdock's brow raised expectantly as Velvet's birthday lingered on her lips; his lips curling in knowing smirk, hinting at all the mischievous things he would likely do with the information. When it was denied he flashed a defeated pout, though a clear mental note was made that the event was approaching, and words would need to be exchanged with Cygna. "Oh really?" Murdock retorted doubtfully, though still with a playful undertone. "And when was the last time you did something, as you say, 'foot-loose and fancy-free'?" He lifted his flute towards his lips, but paused to add quickly, "And, for the record, this date does not count."
Velvet: "I..." The dark-haired young Librarian paused, looking off into some corner of her mind, casting about for something that would be suitably fun for Murdock's tastes. Going to the fabric store with Cygna didn't count. Nor did going to that new tea house. It was highly unlikely that her companion would think finding a first-edition copy of Great Expectations in The Strand very exciting (not for buying, of course, but being in the presence of the book was good enough). It was really beginning to look quite dire, as her pause extended and became rather heavily pregnant. Her expression very nearly started to fall when she decided, in the spirit of their previous conversation, to lie. "I took the Ebony Horse to Paris," she said, finally, looking Murdock in the eye for only the barest second before she looked away, and down at her mousse, which she busied herself with once more. "Is that foot-loose and fancy-free enough?"
Murdock: Murdock's eyes watched his librarian intently as she ran through possible options in her head; it was an infuriatingly smug gaze, that of the victor who's well aware he's already won the battle being fought. However, the answer he did receive was obviously not one he expected, and he looked suitably shocked, and then impressed. "Really?" He asked emphatically, almost in a whisper, as though worried that their table neighbours might catch wind of this little bit of scandal. "Vel, I didn't know you had it in you! That's spectacular! I don't think I'd ever have figured you for a joy rider, I'm impressed! Especially after all the times you told me I couldn't--"
His complimentary ramble stopped short as a thought seemed to permeate his mildly alcohol-addled mind, and his eyes slid slowly back to Velvet, a mix of suspicion and sheepishness mingled in his expression. "You're lying to me, aren't you?" It's an accusation, but he seems more impressed by this prospect than he was by the lie itself.
Velvet: "No!" Velvet quipped, notably not making eye contact as she shaped valleys and mountains into her chocolate mousse with her spoon. She looked up for the briefest second, and flashed the briefest of smiles, "I went! It was beautiful, charming, very Romantic, and the weather was quite nice, luckily, for I hadn't thought to check the weather before I went, it was very spur-of-the moment," she went on, seemingly fascinated by a light fixture on the opposite wall. "I walked along the Champs Elysee, and the Seine, and stopped at bistro, but I'd forgotten to change my money, so a debonair young Frenchman had to pay for my lunch. Then I came back." Having gained confidence in her lie (well, in her mind, it was less a lie and more a small fictional story at this point), Velvet looked back at Murdock, and smiled again, almost coyly. "Not a very exciting adventure, I know. No car chases, no declarations of true love." She had a spoonful of chocolate. "This is very good, isn't it?"
Murdock: Murdock settled in to listen to the details of her adventure with open amusement - his fingers interlaced and his chin resting on the cradle they created, reacting to each point with an exaggerated expression. Little oohs and ahhs, gasps of surprised, and of course an absolutely scandalized look at the introduction of a debonair young Frenchmen. He wasn't making any effort to pretend he actually believed her, but he wasn't calling her out either - he just seemed to greatly enjoy the charade, and there was certainly a hint of earnest adoration beneath his patronizing responses.
"Well then," he said decisively, scooping up the linen napkin in his lap, folding it, and tossing it down onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet, "I certainly underestimated your boldness, Velvet. I stand corrected! It's a good thing you enlightened me, though, because you see, previously I was quite convinced that you would never do something so rash as dancing with me..." Oh, yes indeed. Murdock was standing dramatically from his chair, mousse forgotten, and offering his hand to his dinner companion, ""But clearly I had misjudged you!"
Velvet: Well, that backfired. Velvet looked suitably startled, glancing back and forth between Murdock, the dance floor, and her unfinished mousse. There was a vague gesture at the dessert, and she looked ready to protest, and then seemingly thought better of it. As her deep desire to not embarrass herself on the dance floor warred internally with her respect for poetic justice, she looked more and more flustered, blush rising in her cheeks until finally she spluttered, "But... I can't! I don't know how!" At last, her expression settled on desperation, helplessness - please don't make her do this! There are so many people! She made absolutely no move to rise from her chair, much less take Murdock's hand. Indeed, if there were a word for the atmosphere surrounding a person trying through force of will to adhere themselves to a chair and thus become immovable, it would be well-employed here.
Murdock: Murdock was having none of it, and his coy expression conveyed as much. "Oh please, like I do?" He retorted playfully, "And I'd bet dollars to donuts that I'm bad enough to make even you look good out there. Now come on," He grinned wide as he reached down to deftly pluck Velvet's hand up and, with a few gentle tugs and as much theatrics as is necessary, pulls her up from her chair and out onto the moderately populated dance floor.
Several other couples were already enjoying the music, a jaunty modern waltz fusion of sorts, that was fast paced enough to let people make up moves at their leisure. Still holding Velvet's hand as he drew her out onto the dance floor, he turned suddenly to face her, dipping in an extravagant bow, as one imagines would typically be used to kick off a waltz in ye ole times. At which point, whether he received a curtsy or not, he would begin to dance - nothing difficult or serious, nor particularly intimate, only keeping one of Velvet's hands in his and occasionally pressing his other to her side or the small of her back to give direction if she seemed particularly flustered.
Velvet: Theatrics weren't all that necessary - Velvet was as startled by Murdock's oddly humble way of dragging her onto the dance floor. No, 'Ah, but I trained under the best!' or 'I nearly went on to Ballroom Nationals!'? It was terribly unlike Murdock, and even though she wouldn't have believed a word of it, she still expected it.
And so Aladdin led Scheherazade onto the dance floor, though she followed with visible reluctance, she also didn't make much of a scene about it either. Rolling her eyes at his illustrious bow, Velvet dipped the merest of sardonic little curtsies in return. And, they began to dance. At first, of course, Velvet barely moved her feet, and the proximity - while certainly not intimate - was far more intimate than she was used to. In fact, she really hadn't been this intentionally close to a guy since, well, her short-lived high school sweetheart. For that matter, she hadn't danced since then either. So, she misstepped, and blushed, and bit her lip, and looked at all the other dancers, at the tables, at the band, at anyone but Murdock. And once she realized what she was doing, she began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, I really am terrible at this!"
Murdock: Murdock matched Velvet's taciturnity with his own excess; he didn't strictly ham it up, but any time she looked as though she was beginning to get particularly uncomfortable or self-conscious, he performed some ridiculous move or another like the sprinkler or the running man. He was attempting to draw any excess attention off of her and onto himself, but also, more importantly, to get her to laugh and relax. For his part he was having a wonderful time, and for once, he had actually lied on the side of humility; he was a decent dancer, and managed to lead in some basic swing and waltz-like moves.
He was still chuckling and hamming it up when the music suddenly shifted gears, as it tends to do, into an unmistakable slow song. One of his hands still held hers, and the other rested on her waist as if by kismet. All around them couples moved, easily or awkwardly, into more intimate dance steps, and after a flash of panic at having been caught unprepared, Murdock offered an almost sheepish look of invitation - he, of course, was game. His grips tightened to hold her in a light embrace, and should she not object, he began to dance a slow, rhythmic high-school-prom style dance.
Velvet: His antics were met with their intended goal - Velvet laughed, and buried her face in one palm, and shook her head, and rolled her eyes. For all that people like to paint New Yorkers as cynical hard-asses, their neighbors on the dance floor cast only amused and encouraging glances at the two of them. It didn't take over-long for the young woman to relax enough so she could be lead in a dance without stepping on Murdock's toes, and once she managed a few steps that could pass for actual dancing on her part, her expression shifted abruptly from sheepish to delighted, and Murdock got the benefit of her smile.
Of course, that smile froze the moment the music changed into the dreaded slow dance. With a great internal wrench, however, she managed to not flee from the dance floor (that was Cinderella's gig, after all), and instead gave Murdock a shy smile, and shrug, and allowed his embrace. Of course, she couldn't just let her own arms hang limply; her hands on his shoulder and... elbow, she didn't really know where to put the other hand, were just barely touching him. And yes, that infamous pink was back in her cheeks - though really, it was indistinguishable from the flush from all the faster-paced dancing.
After a few measures of this dancing (doubtless the placement of her hand having been corrected), she said, abruptly, "Thank you," finally looking her dance partner straight in the eye.
Murdock: Murdock smiled a very pleased smile as Velvet accepted the dance, and thus began to lead, deftly repositioning her hands as he did so. He drew her in as close as she seemed comfortable being drawn, and while she glanced this way and that, trying to find an acceptable place to look while they danced, he never took his gaze from her eyes. He was amused by her flustered state, as he almost always was, but there was also an unmistakable fondness in the look.
So caught up was he in enjoying the moment that he was startled to find her suddenly meeting his gaze, and he looked momentarily stunned when she spoke, at first thinking this was the tail end of a sentence he had tuned out for. After a moment he offered a little modest smile and shrugged his shoulders. "For what? This was your gift to me, remember?"
Velvet: "For not taking me skydiving?" Velvet suggested, her head canting slightly to one side, amused again at Murdock's uncharacteristic modesty. "And for not complaining when I stepped on your toes," she added, glancing downward at their feet as though to make sure they were still acceptably unconnected. "I'm having a lovely time, in spite of all prior misgivings," she finished, looking up again with a smile, very gently teasing. "So, thank you." The corner of her lips twitched upward again, and then her gaze shifted shyly away once more, over his shoulder as they continued to sway to the music. Around them, couples danced cheek-to-cheek (or cheek-to-shoulder, depending on the difference in height), but, predictably, Velvet kept her relative distance.
Murdock: At this answer Murdock chuckled, his head hanging down for a moment in mirth before he lifted it and retorted coyly, "Well, this is only the first date." As the gratitude was reiterated he practically glowed with delight - he'd half imagined her to be consumed by abject horror by now, and merely nodded his head quietly to receive it. Of course, the thought also immediately struck him that this meant the date was actually going well... which meant that there were certain formulaic patterns to follow! Patterns he hadn't really expected to come into play, but there was no avoiding them now!
Thankfully Velvet broke eye contact, so she wouldn't see him starting to look vaguely nervous, as little voices of encouragement and doubt blared within his mind. Eventually the 'do-it's' won out, as they tend to do with the support of champagne behind them, and thus Murdock leaned slowly forward, his eyes closing slightly, to deliver a possibly surprising, but self-consciously tender kiss even as the last chords of the slow song were struck.
Velvet: Of course, keeping that distance meant Murdock had room to kiss her, unexpectedly. Not really 'out of the blue', of course, since this was a date, and it was Murdock, but that didn't stop Velvet's reaction from being any less painfully awkward and shy. Simultaneously she froze mid-sway, stumbling again on Murdock's toes, and jolted in her skin; his kiss may have been sweet and tender, but she wasn't prepared, so lips were pressed hard against teeth. Her eyes, of course, went wide instead of shut, and in the second it took her to pull away, one hand going to a bruised mouth, her face managed to burn several shades of red.
"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, more out of sympathy for the soreness the failed kiss had produced than her failure to reciprocate.
Murdock: This? This isn't exactly the crowning achievement of Murdock's romantic life, right here. In fact, it rests somewhere on the opposite end of said spectrum. As Murdock finds his lips briefly mashed against Velvet's teeth, only to have said teeth violently yanked away, words like 'mortification' begin to seem far too mild. He actually hovers frozen in mid-kiss for one horrified second before straightening back up with all the dignity he still has allotted to him, which at this point can be calculated in fractions. A few stifled noises of amusement or sympathy can be heard from the people around them.
He stands perfectly still, looking somewhere over Velvet's head, consciously willing himself to not die of embarrassment. Once he's regained control of his faculties he assumes the closest thing he can to a good-natured, dismissive smile. "Don't mention it." He offers glibly, "That was... that was my fault entirely. I didn't telegraph that properly at all."
Velvet: Hand still clapped over her mouth, cheeks still blazing (the muffled noises from the peanut gallery really didn't help), Velvet just stood there for a moment, her eyes searching Murdock's face frantically. What should she do? She had very clearly made something of a fool of him - and herself - and as the band started up again with a more lively tune, she found herself at a complete loss. So, she apologized again. "No, really, I'm sorry! I was just...! I didn't expect... are you all right?" She took some initial steps back towards the relative safety of their table, and then stepped back towards Murdock again, almost taking his hand, and then deciding against it. "Let's... let's sit down." Oh, dear. Velvet hurried back into her seat, the very epitome of awkward now: shoulders tight, gaze askance at a wrinkle in the tablecloth, fingers anxiously playing her hair, bottom lip chewed-upon. She could get as far as 'back to the table', but beyond that, she really didn't know how to remedy the situation.
Murdock: Murdock, for his part, was doing a surprisingly good job of not freaking out about the situation - though his grim smile and even tone belied all the effort he was putting into not doing so. "I'm fine, don't be silly." He dismissed, touching his lips as if to jokingly check for blood, and then waving the notion away. "You don't need to be sorry, unless it is for being so irresistible so as to drive me to such a boneheaded move." He slid awkwardly back into his chair, and now he was the one having trouble with making and holding eye contact - and possibly even a little flush in his cheeks.
Velvet: "Oh, don't say that!" Velvet said, chagrined and inwardly tortured by the position she'd put Murdock in. "It wasn't boneheaded!" No, wait, that wasn't what she wanted to say; commence the splutters as she tried to backtrack, "I mean, well, I wasn't really expecting... but, really I shou... it wasn't bad... it was... oh, uhm!" Her voice got tinier and tinier until the waiter passed by, and she spoke up again, hastily, "Check, please?" Of course, once she said that, she realized that her eagerness to end the date as quickly as possible now wasn't exactly the most diplomatic way of going about things, and she looked, mortified at her own baseness, "I mean, unless you don't want...?" This really wasn't going well. The waiter paused, looking between the two of them with a cocked eyebrow.
Murdock: At Velvet's flailing Murdock managed to muster an earnest chuckle despite himself - she was pretty amusing when she flailed, and this was possibly the most flaily he'd ever seen her. "If that's your idea of not bad," he said wryly, leaning forward on one elbow to address her directly, "Then my condolences on your past experiences." He was managing humour, however self-deprecatory, and was becoming slowly less embarrassed about the whole fiasco. He even raised one eyebrow and added with a hint of more characteristic flirtation, "I assure you, I can do better."
Then the waiter was standing beside them, and Murdock looked from him to Velvet, who received a benign smile, "No, that's cool. I should have quit while I was ahead, but this is probably the next best thing, right?" He grinned playfully and nodded to the waiter, who hurried off to fetch the check.
Velvet: Finally - Murdock's return to his flirtatious self broke Velvet's flail, and she smiled, gave a familiar, exasperated sigh, and she even giggled, looking down again at the table. The waiter departed; she visibly relaxed, shoulders easing from their tight squeeze, fingers untangling from her hair. "It was bad. A little!" she amended, quickly, just in case Murdock suddenly didn't find her admission humorous. "And I'm sure you can do better, if your track record is any indication. I don't think you'd have lasted more than a minute with any of those girls if you were a terrible kisser." Velvet smirked, teasingly. Idly, she knocked the handle of her dessert spoon against the saucer with her fingertips. "And I stand by my earlier statement - lip-smashing aside, this has been a very nice... date, Murdock."
Murdock: Murdock gave Velvet a playfully admonishing look as she brought up his notorious reputation, as he was wont to do - but he didn't launch into some ardent defense, letting it slide as mere playful banter. The waiter returned with their bill, which he accepted directly hand to hand, and with a deft motion discreetly tucked a credit card into the folder. Yes, Murdock was definitely going to have to pay for this one on credit. And pay for it for some time to come, given his normal state of finances. The real question was where he would have found a bank that would actually give him a line of credit.
He cringed in good-natured embarrassment at the mention of lip-smashing, but it didn't stop him from turning mischievous eyes on Velvet and countering with a coy, "The first of many, I hope?"
Velvet: Velvet barely had time to register the arrival of the bill, much less protest when Murdock took it in hand. "...let me cover the tip?" she offered, frowning at the black envelope. If anyone knew what sort of state Murdock's finances were in, aside from Elena, it was his Librarian. Then again, this was a date, and Velvet really wasn't well-versed enough in the world of romance to know that she could break tradition and insist that she pay herself, or at least pay half. Nevertheless, she reached for her handbag and pulled out a twenty, handing it over just as Murdock asked his playful little question.
"Oh, well," she said, trying so very hard not to blush again, and failing utterly. "We'll see. If you can fit it into your busy schedule," she finished, returning to the gentle teasing.
Murdock: Murdock waved away any notion of covering tip and offered bills with all the exaggerated indignity of a grave affront. "Absolutely not! This is our first date, and I would not hear of my famed chivalry being compromised in such a manner. Besides, I know that the Atheneum totally underpays you, for all the work you do." He waved his hands until the twenty was returned to her purse, at which point he cocked his head to the side and added slyly, "I just might consider more negotiations on our next outing, though. I am, after all, a progressive, modern man."
The waiter returned with the receipt, which Murdock filled out, signed and returned to him. He then proceeded to stand, and once Velvet had done so as well, led her towards the coat check with the gentlest touch of his hand to the small of her back. "You should know by now, Velvet, that my schedule is always wide open for you. There is no higher precedence I can possibly conceive of." At the check he exchanged their tickets, first holding out her jacket to help her into it before sliding into his own.
Velvet: She made only the slightest of withering faces as this modern, progressive man held out her coat for her, but she made no overt objections. Doing up the buttons, she pursed her lips in contemplation. "Above Gertie? Karisma? Rachel? Bianca?" she asked, her tone cool but not out of jealousy; a mischievous little smirk played at the edges of her mouth, and her eyes danced, though focused on a ceiling corner. Twining her scarf around her neck, Velvet allowed Murdock to lead the way outside into the brisk New York City evening, people hustling past them on the sidewalk, pink lights twinkling in a window across the street. "Are you going back to the Pen?" she asked, turning to look at her companion as they walked down the street towards the subway station. From here, her apartment and the Pentamerone were in completely opposite directions.
Murdock: Murdock purse his lips in a guilty smirk at the teasing, but he rose to the occasion, making a decisive gesture with one hand as if to dismiss everyone in the above roster. "Far above." Was all he answered, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk outside. Other couples were leaving as well, or wandering down the street, and a short line of taxis waited in front to whisk people away to their destinations. He turned to face Velvet with a smile, which flickered only slightly as the full weight of their situation crashed down upon them: the date was ending, and it was time to decide exactly what that meant.
"Yeah, I suppose..." He answered awkwardly, rocking slightly on his heels in the nippy winter cold. The realization that they were going in opposite directions dawned on him, and in an excruciating tone that was half-joking and unsuccessfully whimsical, he cocked his head and asked, "Do you want to... come too? I know it's, like, work for you, but... we could have coffee? I mean, if you want to..." Cue a bit of helpless and increasingly embarrassed babbling as Murdock, yet again, totally starts to drop the ball.
Velvet: Luckily for Murdock, his invitation for her to 'come back to his place', as it were, was met with laughter and not more blushing and spluttering. Hands in her pocket, Velvet laughed, and shook her head; the look she gave Murdock was equal parts good-naturedly amused, and fond, but yes, still, not quite going there. "No - I think I'll take the 1 back up to Harlem," she nodded towards the Franklin Ave. stop, which they had come upon. "But thank you, Murdock, really - it was lovely. I'll see you later." She smiled, and then, so very quickly, leaned in to brush her lips against his cheek. Then she was gone, down the steps descending into the subway station, lost amongst the stream of people coming up and going down.
Murdock: Murdock was simultaneously relieved that Velvet had ended his babbling and crestfallen that she had answered in the negative, even though he knew she was going to. He was still in the middle of reconciling these emotions when he found himself ambushed with a fleeting cheek-kiss, which stunned him into full silence. All he could do was lift one hand for a weak wave, the fingers slowly moving to his cheek the moment she disappeared down into the subway.
Slowly the stunned look melted away into a look of sheer self-satisfaction, and with a single nod, he turned to begin off in the opposite direction. He moved off down the road towards the Pen with an unmistakable swagger in his step, and because he could never resist a good cliche, hopped up in a rather skillful heelclick right before turning the corner.
Oh, yeah.