Inside, Kenna Tirenn has finally gotten herself in order just in time to get to the register. The pretty blonde thing standing there smiled at her, shook her head, and pointed out the front door to the ebony-haired college kid who was looking much too involved in his newspaper. He glanced up at her for a moment, but just a moment. Something had caught his attention the next page over.
Kenna nods, taking her coffee and shoving the change back into her pocket. She would've liked to have said that she didn't see many random acts of kindness, but unfortunately, it was something she ran into enough that she'd gotten well and tired of it. Men would see her round, cherub-like face, her big, green eyes, her long, red hair, and they'd fall all over themselves to do her favors. It wouldn't be so bad if it were really the show of kindness it was made out to be, but they all wanted the same thing, every damn time.
Hmph. Men. Buy a girl a cup o' joe and ye think that means she'll bed ye.Out into the stifling summer air, she's about to go on her
( ... )
Caleb is pleased to see her approaching. Truthfully he hadn’t anything more than to do a good deed, but if she’ll come over to flirt, then so much the better.
He looks up at her, casually, a small smile on his lips. “Can I help you, ma’am?"
She doesn't seem annoyed, but the tone of her voice has a faux, sugary-sweetness to it, as if it's taking every bone in her body to be polite. The innocent boy act has never quite worked on her... some days she's positive ignorance is bliss. Pity. He's cute, too.
Caleb sits up straighter in his seat, folding his paper and setting it aside. It’s obvious she’s upset, but Caleb’s voice still betrays amusement with the situation. These days, nothing gets him down. “Pardon me, miss?”
Dear god, she’s not one of those women’s right’s people, I hope. They’ve got all the personality of a pit bull.
"Would you care to have a seat?" He motions to the chair across from him.
Caleb regards her with a puzzled look for a few moments, then shakes his head slowly in confusion. Another smile, this one not coy or flirtatious but genuinely kind and confused. “I’m, uh… not sure what you mean. I saw you struggling with your belongings, and thought I might lend a hand.”
There's a moment of silence as he sips his coffee, before offering another smile. "You're welcome, by the way."
She returns his lingering look while she sips her own coffee. It was only a hint she'd caught off of him, the unmistakable scent of demon. Maybe he didn't know... it was entirely possible, it'd happened before.
She leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowing but a little smile creeping up her face. "Okay, Caleb. I'll buy it." She gives him a little wink. "I've run into some weirdoes in me day, so don't mind me. Girls have to protect what they've got, right?"
Well, there's no doubt she's eccentric. But even under her plain blue tee, beat-up jeans and flip-flops, it was more than obvious she was a girl who could take care of herself. And considering the body that seemed to be under all those clothes, he couldn’t say he was honestly surprised that she might have to show that capability every now and again. She had the look about her of someone who was sweet, and just a bit too trusting.
Perhaps she’d been burned once or twice before. He snickers to himself, as he realizes that unless she’s playing hard to get, he’s most likely not going to be able to get anywhere with this one. Pity.
Still, she seems interesting enough. What the hell. I’ve got nothing better to be doing this afternoon. “Undoubtedly.”
Huh. He is absolutely oblivious. A dim-witted incubi? Why, there had never been such a thing!
That was sarcasm.
The part that's not a laughing matter is that this poor boy seems to be a clueless half-breed. Might as well stick around for a bit; something exciting might happen. "Irish," she answers. "And, Caleb-- I could say the same for yuir name. Ye don't hear that everyday."
She’s not even looking at him as she digs around in her jean bag, pulling out a beat-up soft pack of non-menthol Basic 100s. Shaking the pack, she grabs one with her lips, reaching for her left jeans pocket. After a moment of fiddling, she curses. She seems to do that a lot. "Ye smoke, Caleb?"
Another sip of his coffee. At this point he’s convinced she’s playing hard to get. I love it when they do that.
“It’d be beneficial if I were trying to share my bed with you, yes, but as I recall, I’ve only inquired about dinner and a movie.” A wink to accompany the smirk. She’s right - he is an asshole. “Beyond that, Kenna, one can’t really presume anything. Too many variables. You may find me as interesting as I find you. Then again, I could be a republican. Oh, the dangers of a first date, eh?”
She laughs loud enough that she actually tips in her chair a little. All right, she'll buy that. The smart-ass Russian for $2000, Alex.
"Oh, no, ye're not a Republican. I know that at the least. Republicans are cheap assholes, and I don't believe ye're cheap. The first we meet and ye pay f'r my coffee."
She steeples her hands together and gives him another challenging smile. Yes, maybe she's changed her opinion, but there's no reason to make a stupid mistake until she knows for sure. She still seems pleasant enough, but something in her demeanor changes. For a moment, she looks almost threatening. When she speaks her voice is dead serious. "The terms. Dinner need not be somewhere extravagant, but I won't be led to any... usual haunts. If there are any. I don't like 'who is she?' confrontations. I'll get myself to and from the occasion. Me mum taught me about strangers and their cars."
“I’ve no reason to object to any of that,” he says. This redhead becomes more and more intriguing as time goes by. “Counter-proposal,” he says as he reaches intro his pocket, and produces a card that he hands to Kenna. “…you name the restaurant. Call me with the time and place?”
It’s quiet for a moment as he finishes his coffee, and briefly checks his watch. “I understand that you’ll want to come to this conclusion of your own accord, and I’m comfortable with that, but I assure you I’m perfectly harmless.”
Well, maybe it won’t be tonight after all. But this woman looks like she’s worth investing some time in.
Kenna's determined that it won't be tonight, but she's not so positive anymore about the 'ever'. She likes him, despite knowing what he is. Maybe because of? Yes, that's actually it, she thinks. Most of his kind aren't like this. There's no spark of intelligence under the layer. They prey on what's easy, at night, in bars, in clubs, on street-sides...
They don't buy their victims coffee at a busy deli downtown in the middle of the day, with plenty of witnesses. They're not patient enough for something of this sort. And he's definitely a half-breed, which means he's less than no one important. A bussiness card, though? Please.
But curiosity did kill the cat.
"Agreed," and she takes the card. "And I think ye're mostly harmless. Besides being a fast talker, that is."
It’s 7:15 pm. He’s been waiting here for her for fifteen minutes. Earlier today he’d been surprised to hear from Kenna, and all had been well in the world. Even six days later he knew her voice as soon as he heard it. Truth be told, he had almost given up on the thought that she was actually going to call him. Now he almost wished she hadn’t.
The Valle D’Aosta is a wonderful little Italian restaurant where Caleb’s had many a first date, but this is the first one who’s ever had the balls to stand him up. He leans back in his chair, nursing his second glass of water, and carefully watches the people on the sidewalk outside walk past, hoping to spot the amazing red-head he was waiting for.
7:23. “She has seven minutes,” he mumbles to himself.
It's 7:26 when a 1986 Mazda 323 comes zipping around the corner. It looks as if it was originally silver, but now it's a dull gray with spots of rust scattered across it. The car skids to a halt in front of an open space across the street, then jams into reverse.
The back bumper stops less than a quarter-inch from the front bumper of the car parked behind it. The wheels spin to the right and the car jerks forward, quick. Perfect park job.
And the redhead immerges.
She'd be stunning in her slinky green cocktail dress and strappy heels if she wasn't cursing up a storm-- in several different languages-- as she realizes she's parked next to a fire hydrant.
And with the sight his anger disappears, and a smile creeps across his face. He’d have strongly preferred she have been here on time, but this was worth waiting nearly a half hour for.
Kenna climbs back into the car, swearing the whole way. As she climbs inside it looks as if she drops something, and her head ducks out of view for a moment. She pops back up, keys in hand and still, obviously, cursing.
Her face falls as she realizes the vehicle that just stopped on the street in front of her is a delivery truck... and it's rear-end is blocking her in. A hopeless sigh and she rolls down the window, leaning out to call down the driver of the truck. A few sweet words yelled across the street and the driver falls over himself to move his vehicle.
The little mazda pulls out, u-turns in a business driveway at the end of the block, and disappears from sight.
Minutes later, Kenna enters the restaurant. She's shown over to the table and she gives Caleb a polite but tight smile as she sits down. "Sorry I'm late. Ye would not believe--"
He’s quiet, and soon he’s back to looking at his own wine list.
After a spell, Caleb puts his list down, and speaks softly. “Look, I, uh … I’m-I’m sorry if I hit a sore topic. I didn’t mean to…” He clears his throat as his eyes shift about the room, hoping to finally spot the waiter.
There he is!
“So, are you ready to order, or do you need more time?”
Kenna doesn't even give him a response, she just flags down the waiter. That conversation wasn't somewhere she'd been prepared to go. She had a policy of being as honest as she could be, but it was usually a struggle for her with sensitive topics
( ... )
He gets it alright. In fact, he’s heard it too. It still takes him back to hear her say it, though. Right up until she said it, he had her pegged as preferring a different sort of humor. But, as he’s best at doing, Caleb goes with the flow, and again the jokes take a turn for the vulgar, yet, clever.
During it all, they come to need their third bottle of wine. Caleb flags down the waiter.
“Pardon me, sir, but, uh, we’re .. we’re out of wine just now.”
“Would you like another bottle?” the waiter asks.
“Certainly.”
“Okay. What kind of wine would you like?”
Caleb thinks for a moment, and then answers as casually as he can. “Vouvrey, please.”
Kenna perks her head up, looks at Caleb, the waiter, then her mostly-empty glass. "You ass!" She seems angry enough to enunciate, almost completely cutting out her accent, but she's also smiling wide. Maybe if she had caught this earlier in the date she would've been legitimately angry. As it was, the wine and the dirty jokes had worked their magic. She didn't have it in her to be really angry at him.
Finally, she turns to the waiter with a polite smile. "Aye. Another bottle o' th'same," somehow neatly slurred.
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Kenna nods, taking her coffee and shoving the change back into her pocket. She would've liked to have said that she didn't see many random acts of kindness, but unfortunately, it was something she ran into enough that she'd gotten well and tired of it. Men would see her round, cherub-like face, her big, green eyes, her long, red hair, and they'd fall all over themselves to do her favors. It wouldn't be so bad if it were really the show of kindness it was made out to be, but they all wanted the same thing, every damn time.
Hmph. Men. Buy a girl a cup o' joe and ye think that means she'll bed ye.Out into the stifling summer air, she's about to go on her ( ... )
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He looks up at her, casually, a small smile on his lips. “Can I help you, ma’am?"
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She doesn't seem annoyed, but the tone of her voice has a faux, sugary-sweetness to it, as if it's taking every bone in her body to be polite. The innocent boy act has never quite worked on her... some days she's positive ignorance is bliss. Pity. He's cute, too.
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Dear god, she’s not one of those women’s right’s people, I hope. They’ve got all the personality of a pit bull.
"Would you care to have a seat?" He motions to the chair across from him.
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There's a moment of silence as he sips his coffee, before offering another smile. "You're welcome, by the way."
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She leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowing but a little smile creeping up her face. "Okay, Caleb. I'll buy it." She gives him a little wink. "I've run into some weirdoes in me day, so don't mind me. Girls have to protect what they've got, right?"
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Perhaps she’d been burned once or twice before. He snickers to himself, as he realizes that unless she’s playing hard to get, he’s most likely not going to be able to get anywhere with this one. Pity.
Still, she seems interesting enough. What the hell. I’ve got nothing better to be doing this afternoon. “Undoubtedly.”
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That was sarcasm.
The part that's not a laughing matter is that this poor boy seems to be a clueless half-breed. Might as well stick around for a bit; something exciting might happen. "Irish," she answers. "And, Caleb-- I could say the same for yuir name. Ye don't hear that everyday."
She’s not even looking at him as she digs around in her jean bag, pulling out a beat-up soft pack of non-menthol Basic 100s. Shaking the pack, she grabs one with her lips, reaching for her left jeans pocket. After a moment of fiddling, she curses. She seems to do that a lot. "Ye smoke, Caleb?"
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“It’d be beneficial if I were trying to share my bed with you, yes, but as I recall, I’ve only inquired about dinner and a movie.” A wink to accompany the smirk. She’s right - he is an asshole. “Beyond that, Kenna, one can’t really presume anything. Too many variables. You may find me as interesting as I find you. Then again, I could be a republican. Oh, the dangers of a first date, eh?”
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"Oh, no, ye're not a Republican. I know that at the least. Republicans are cheap assholes, and I don't believe ye're cheap. The first we meet and ye pay f'r my coffee."
She steeples her hands together and gives him another challenging smile. Yes, maybe she's changed her opinion, but there's no reason to make a stupid mistake until she knows for sure. She still seems pleasant enough, but something in her demeanor changes. For a moment, she looks almost threatening. When she speaks her voice is dead serious. "The terms. Dinner need not be somewhere extravagant, but I won't be led to any... usual haunts. If there are any. I don't like 'who is she?' confrontations. I'll get myself to and from the occasion. Me mum taught me about strangers and their cars."
Reply
It’s quiet for a moment as he finishes his coffee, and briefly checks his watch. “I understand that you’ll want to come to this conclusion of your own accord, and I’m comfortable with that, but I assure you I’m perfectly harmless.”
Well, maybe it won’t be tonight after all. But this woman looks like she’s worth investing some time in.
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They don't buy their victims coffee at a busy deli downtown in the middle of the day, with plenty of witnesses. They're not patient enough for something of this sort. And he's definitely a half-breed, which means he's less than no one important. A bussiness card, though? Please.
But curiosity did kill the cat.
"Agreed," and she takes the card. "And I think ye're mostly harmless. Besides being a fast talker, that is."
Reply
The Valle D’Aosta is a wonderful little Italian restaurant where Caleb’s had many a first date, but this is the first one who’s ever had the balls to stand him up. He leans back in his chair, nursing his second glass of water, and carefully watches the people on the sidewalk outside walk past, hoping to spot the amazing red-head he was waiting for.
7:23. “She has seven minutes,” he mumbles to himself.
Reply
The back bumper stops less than a quarter-inch from the front bumper of the car parked behind it. The wheels spin to the right and the car jerks forward, quick. Perfect park job.
And the redhead immerges.
She'd be stunning in her slinky green cocktail dress and strappy heels if she wasn't cursing up a storm-- in several different languages-- as she realizes she's parked next to a fire hydrant.
Reply
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Her face falls as she realizes the vehicle that just stopped on the street in front of her is a delivery truck... and it's rear-end is blocking her in. A hopeless sigh and she rolls down the window, leaning out to call down the driver of the truck. A few sweet words yelled across the street and the driver falls over himself to move his vehicle.
The little mazda pulls out, u-turns in a business driveway at the end of the block, and disappears from sight.
Minutes later, Kenna enters the restaurant. She's shown over to the table and she gives Caleb a polite but tight smile as she sits down. "Sorry I'm late. Ye would not believe--"
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After a spell, Caleb puts his list down, and speaks softly. “Look, I, uh … I’m-I’m sorry if I hit a sore topic. I didn’t mean to…” He clears his throat as his eyes shift about the room, hoping to finally spot the waiter.
There he is!
“So, are you ready to order, or do you need more time?”
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During it all, they come to need their third bottle of wine. Caleb flags down the waiter.
“Pardon me, sir, but, uh, we’re .. we’re out of wine just now.”
“Would you like another bottle?” the waiter asks.
“Certainly.”
“Okay. What kind of wine would you like?”
Caleb thinks for a moment, and then answers as casually as he can. “Vouvrey, please.”
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Kenna perks her head up, looks at Caleb, the waiter, then her mostly-empty glass. "You ass!" She seems angry enough to enunciate, almost completely cutting out her accent, but she's also smiling wide. Maybe if she had caught this earlier in the date she would've been legitimately angry. As it was, the wine and the dirty jokes had worked their magic. She didn't have it in her to be really angry at him.
Finally, she turns to the waiter with a polite smile. "Aye. Another bottle o' th'same," somehow neatly slurred.
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