Who: Anton Sparke and Scott "Pretending to be Wesen" Cunningham. What: A date! That’s what normal CIA agents spying on billionaires did right? Where: Basically at various places on the Las Vegas Strip. When: Waaaaay backdated. Who doesn’t like fun stuff like that? Warnings/Rating: Oh they’re surprisingly harmless. This time.
It clearly had to be an LSD spiked water bottle he drank. Scott was content to believe that. Because there couldn’t be any other reason he would be sitting in a car worth twice his salary in one year with Anton Sparke, the man he was supposed to be spying on? Speaking of which, Anton clearly had a bit of love for the speed. Not that Scott couldn’t appreciate it, but he was usually doing it with the intent of making a good getaway and he was already aware he was in danger. Not so much when they were simply going a night out. He practiced his breathing exercises and reminded himself that this didn’t have to be serious. Anton had tons of money and people who knew it. He would likely get bored of Scott very fast.
Yup, not going to be a problem.
Even if it wasn’t going to be serious, that didn’t mean Scott wasn’t going to approach it with less seriousness than anything else he’s dealt with. That was clearly the only reason he showered, shaved and dressed a bit more formal than most people had seen him around the lab. Then again, he was usually wearing that coat and badge so there wasn’t too much for them to see. But he felt it was nice enough; white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, purple v-neck sweater over that and the rolls of the white sleeves rolled over part of it. Throw in the khakis and dark brown loafers and he might as well be the head model in a GAP ad. Lovely.
Biting his lower lip, he watched (well, more witnessed) as they pulled into the structure for the Cosmopolitan hotel. Though the place wasn’t really advertised or well known, hell it didn’t have a sign, Scott had stumbled up the Secret Pizza place a couple of times and he’d be damned if he ever found a place with good pizza at such a cheap price. A part of him was still nervous, however at taking someone like Anton there. Wasn’t it sacrilege or something like that? Either way, his outward presence remained calm.
As the car was shut off, Scott turned his head and smiled at him, before getting out of the car. “I hope you like this place. Cause I can tell you for sure I wouldn’t have believed this place existed had I not found it on accident.”
Okay, deep breaths, remain smiling. Scott can do this. Maybe.
Anton didn’t know all of the inner “turmoil” that Scott was under as far as going to dinner. Anton was, quite honestly, interested in having dinner with him. He didn’t get out much, his getting out days were far behind him, and he spent a good majority of his time working, looking after Nell, checking in on Iris, and trying to keep Bruce Banner from Hulking out all over Las Vegas (this was harder than one might imagine). As far as he was concerned there was at least some mutual interest. That was a start.
He didn’t really “date” either. Sure he’d been on several, but this was one of the few legitimate dates. He was rather impressed with himself, and while he didn’t know what, if anything, would come of it; getting said date had already been a lot of fun.
He’d said he was going to wear a suit, and he’d made good on that promise. The dark grey looked good with his blue eyes and while he wasn’t sure how overdressed he was, he really didn’t care. He was comfortable in a suit and even more comfortable in his own skin. He drove fast, and the hot Las Vegas air almost felt good with the convertible, when they reached their destination he looked over at Scott and chuckled. “This is Las Vegas, even if I hate it it’s not like we’ll starve,” he assured him as he locked up the car and slipped the keys in his pocket. “Lead the way, Sergeant.”
Scott of course was dealing with a web of lies he was feeding to Anton, so though he seemed calm, his insides were jumping like a chihuahua on caffeine. At least with his other person in his brain, he didn’t have to worry about the things he did. That guy was someone who put himself in dangerous situations all the time to the point that Scott had trouble feeling surprised at pretty much anything in life.
Him wearing that suit was, in his minor opinion, completely and utterly unfair to the point he suspected Anton was trying to screw with his brain on a daily basis including tonight.
At least he felt comfortable enough to laugh at his comments. “I do believe that’s Scott to you, Mr. Sparke.” He was still smiling as he opened the door for him. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he tentatively walked to the pizza place while keeping his eye on Anton and his own pace. “This place isn’t advertised anywhere, I wouldn’t have ever found it if it wasn’t for when I stumbled in there drunk,” Scott admitted. It put a smile on his face as he remembered the ridiculousness of it all; he had just transferred and his other agents took him out drinking. He had started in one hotel and ended up on a lounge chair in the pool of another hotel and remembered not too much inbetween.
Ordering two slices of cheese and a beer, Scott hurried to a small table to avoid getting crushed by the huge line that started up behind them. Taking a large swig of liquid courage, he waited for Anton to meet up with him (having already paid for whatever Anton intended to eat and drink) before speaking again. “I know you can’t eat these without the pinky up, but they’re surprisingly good,” he joked at he took a large bite of one of the slices. Taking a moment to chew and swallow, he smiled at Anton. “This is no Circus Circus but I like it,” he told him.
Anton wasn’t sure he wanted to call him Scott, he rather liked Sergeant (it rolled off the tongue nicely) and he was rather fond of being called Mr. Sparke. He was pretty sure, as much as his suit was messing with Scott’s brain, that Scott was expending all of his energy trying to be all...Professional. And awesome.
Anton was a fan of pizza so despite the fact that he was all suited up to eat pizza and drink beer, he really didn’t care. At all. He didn’t cut it with a knife and fork, he wasn’t near as stuck up as Scott seemed to think and by the time he sat down at the table with his slice of pepperoni he chuckled a bit. “You’ve got an unhealthy obsession with Circus Circus, Scott,” he said as he took a bite of his pizza and chased it with his beer. “I’ve half a mind to take you somewhere respectable.”
Scott did have to admit to himself he was impressed at Anton’s eating style. Though he was doing his best to keep an open mind, half of him did expect the guy to break out utensils and blot at the pizza first. No daintiness for Anton, though he was definitely prepared to kick him if he put his pinkies up.
Even he had his limits.
He chuckled at Anton’s observation. “I mention it a few times and that’s considered an obsession? Remind me to never bring up cats.” He continued into his meal, chewing and swallowing with precision before speaking again. “You know, you never really did answer me when I asked what you had against that place. Did it beat you up and steal your lunch money as a kid?” he lightly teased.
Anton knew that he was something of a novelty. Even now, having laid low for as long as he had been. No longer CEO, but still in charge, working consulting jobs that paid him money he barely even noticed...But he considered himself fairly down to earth. Yes he liked extravagance and fancy cars, and pretty men and he drank too much and every now and again spent too much money on something ridiculous like an island or another yacht. But when it came down to it, he could eat a damn piece of pizza just fine. Suit and all.
“Of all the casinos and hotels and places to party in this town you want to go to the one that smells like mildew and is crawling with children,” he said with a chuckle.
Scott never completely doubted Anton could be down to earth. It was the public persona he portrayed that ate into Scott’s initial opinion of him. As far as he initially knew, Anton was a selfish guy with the money to get whatever he wanted. He was forced to admit to himself that the initial assessment wasn’t correct. That’s not to say he didn’t try to ooze charm from every pore which tended to amuse him more than impress him. Possibly cute, but that was not a conclusion he intended to arrive at right now especially considering he was still trying to ascertain what drugs he inhaled to agree to be his target’s date.
However, that comment earned Anton a wide truly honest grin. “I like it because of the games and rides. That and they currently have a Chuck Jones exhibit that reminds me of a huge part of my childhood.” Scott cut himself off and stuffed his mouth with pizza. If there was one thing he wasn’t supposed to use to compromise himself, it was being honest. Anton was allowed to know he liked games, but really, nothing too deep about his childhood. To tell him anything that might lead him from the name Westen was a risk.
He quickly turned it lighthearted. “Then again, I couldn’t say no to a shark reef now and then,” he hinted, finishing his pizza and taking another sip of beer while he watched Anton eat.
Anton chuckled when the good soldier informed him that he was big on games, rides, and Chuck Jones. He didn’t even know who Chuck Jones was. “Who the hell is Chuck Jones? And I find it interesting that being stationed here, and you want to go play video games. Don’t get me wrong, I like video games as much as the next person I think my kid would kill me if I ever stopped. But I take it you aren’t spending your nights feeding money into the penny slots to try and parlay the military paycheck into a progressive jackpot?”
At the mention of sharks Anton nodded, “Sharks I can get behind, I was in a shark cage once. That was pretty interesting. Completely by accident too, that’s a story from my younger years. Not exactly first date material.”
“You wound me as of right now. Chuck Jones is a legend, good sir. A legend!” Scott proclaimed before taking a triumphant swig of beer. “He helped develop my childhood, all of the Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck and whatnot.” Another swig of beer. “If you tell me you never saw any of those cartoons I am walking away right now,” he joked. His lips quirked into a wry grin at Anton’s attempt to peek into his life. He knew those kind of questions were going to pop up, but he was prepared to tell lies with just a hint of truth. “If I did that, I’d be the most boring person in the world. No, I like to walk around and visit the different events going on. Vegas is good for rotating events ‘cause of the tourists, they bring in the exciting acts.”
Scott smiled. “Well, that sounds like third date material. I was talking about the shark reef that’s in Mandalay Bay. And if it wasn’t so late, I’d suggest we go there next,” he laughed before eating more of his pizza.
Anton raised his eyebrows, “I know of them, I didn’t sit down and watch them until I was grown and my kid was watching cartoons one morning, but I’m afraid they weren’t a big part of my childhood,” he said almost daring him to get up and leave. Because that would have been a first.
“I am a big fan of the shark reef, and I don’t mind wandering around to different events, but I think we both know I work too much to really appreciate what this town has to offer. Besides drinking in the streets and middle of the night high stakes poker.”
Oh that was a challenge he would take. Pretending to look genuinely shocked, he stood up and turned before sitting back down and smirking. He definitely was giving off a cheeky bastard vibe right now. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re even able to go on a date. You’re at the facility more often than I am.” His nose wrinkled at the last comment. “It’s probably a crime for me to be living here and not a fan of getting drunk or gambling in any way. But, beggars can’t be choosers. I still have my fun.”
Anton chuckled, his eyebrows raised, when Scott got up and turned to leave. At his comment he nodded, “That’s what I do. I work. And work some more. It’s a hard habit to break.” He shook his head then and shrugged, “I think even if you were it would get old eventually. I used to party all the time. My escapades were world wide news, but I’m a bit more mellow now. Old age.” He said with a wry smile.
Hey now, Scott thought it was pretty damn funny! Not that he was going to leave. Really, he had more class than that. As long as you don’t ask Shailee. “It’s an admirable quality,” he pointed out at Anton’s workaholic nature. Scott laughed again. “I agree with you, but I have to point out that judging by your style alone, you look more like Old Spice to me.” No one could wear a suit like that and even pretend to be just plain old. Finishing his dinner and beer, Scott inwardly sighed. “Well, unless you’re hungry for more, I guess it’s time to go?” he asked.
Anton laughed and wasn’t sure whether Old Spice was an insult or a compliment, though he found himself reacting that way to Scott most of the time anyway. “I’m going to choose to take that the way I want to and say thank you,” he said with a chuckle. “Phase Two of First Date commencing or are you demanding to be taken home?” he said smiling wryly as he stood up.
Oh it was definitely a compliment this time but since Anton didn’t ask, Scott chose not to elaborate. “You’re welcome. Maybe.” Walking so he was next to Anton, he couldn’t help but smile in return. “Let’s go for a walk. It’s nice out tonight and I’d love to end up with stacks of ads for hookers.” Scott started walking, glancing back only once to see if he was following him.
Anton winked at him and looked about as smug as he possibly could despite the grin on his face as he walked alongside of him. He was terrible at dating. Even back in his partying days there had been enough booze and cavorting to keep the conversation interesting. He found himself doubting that plan of action would do much to impress Scott and frankly he wasn’t entirely sure he ought to be impressing Scott. Unless that was the point. He didn’t know. He chuckled lightly to himself. “Well at least you have a backup plan,” he teased about the hooker ads.
"I always have backup plans upon backup plans. This is a brilliant plan. Ten bucks says we don't make it twenty feet before we find a passed out college grad out there." Once they were out in the night sky, Scott looked up, frowning a bit. One thing he missed about being home was the starry sky that shimmered and swirled about him like the Van Gogh painting he was so fond of. Even being a CIA agent and going out on missions didn’t allot him a lot of free time to do simpler things anymore. “So, dumb question, but what made you come out here to Las Vegas? Was it really just about the work?” he asked.
“Always be prepared...You’re an Eagle Scout aren’t you? You’ve got Eagle Scout written all over you,” Anton said looking him over out of the corner of his eye as they walked. “Ten bucks says that passed out college grad is somehow suddenly best friends with my kid,” Anton muttered but with a slight chuckle. Nell’s taste in friends was always...interesting.
“It was the work, and good timing. Nell had just relocated, her father was driving me crazy about keeping an eye on her, I figured I’d give it a shot and see what happened. I can find work just about anywhere, but this was convenient for it’s purposes. I’ve been worse places,” he said with a shrug. “And I suppose you go where the army tells you to go, but was this a good move or a bad move?”
Scott laughed freely and openly. “I guess the army thing gave that away didn’t it?” Truthfully, he made it to Eagle Scout, but it wasn’t for long and he wasn’t very good at survival training as a wee lad. Thankfully the military didn’t care for hiring seven year olds or he’d end up with a completely different career.
His eyebrow raised. He wasn’t sure of what to make of the whole daughter angle. With him being one of the youngest in his family and having no children of his own, he didn’t completely get what it meant to have and raise a child in general. He did find it admirable Anton was willing to take care of her though. “That makes sense,” he agreed with his reasoning, but shrugged at the second one. “If I got a choice, which I don’t, I’d have probably asked to be stationed on a nice base in Hawaii or California.” He of course took this opportunity to smirk again at Anton. “But I think it’s growing on me--” he winked as he was then accosted by, as he guessed earlier, by a few different guys with hooker pamphlets that advertised him to call Bunny for a good time. “Then again...”
“California is nice, I used to live there. Hawaii I’ve only been a few times, but it’s nice as well,” he smirked back and looked at the flier he was handed and chuckled, “It’s all part of the charm.”
Scott shrugged and handed over all the pamphlets he received to Anton so he wouldn’t be caught looking like an eager frat boy (though he hoped he looked too old for that). “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. If there’s anything the military is so fond of taking away from us, it’s choice. I did sign up for those places. Probably why I never got stationed anywhere nice. At least here’s pretty tame.”
He rolled his eyes as he was now getting flyers for some ‘dope-ass’ party full of booze and strippers. Yes, so dope ass he’d be happier trapped in a cave in Afghanistan again. He handed those to Anton too.
“And you get to tell people you drive space ships all day,” he said with a smirk. Then again, maybe he was the only one that did that. “Where are you from that sent you packing to the military? Small town? Deep south or midwest? Have you got an appallingly large number of sisters and brothers. Tell me, am I living a Nicholas Sparks novel right now?” he was teasing, and it was obvious. But mostly he was trying to learn things to. It was easy for Anton to dominate a conversation, but he was trying not to this time around.
Scott tried his hardest not to laugh again. He didn’t want to sound so open and vulnerable, especially not against his...target. Right. But a smile creeped onto his face nonetheless. Traitor. “If you were living a Nicholas Sparks novel, you wouldn’t be wearing such a modern outfit, nor would it be that shiny” he pointed out. “Nebraska,” he responded. “It’s a state well known for fields of nothing, kind of begs you to hurry out of there and travel.” He declined to mention anything about his family in fear he might reveal too much. Then again he didn’t give a fake state so maybe he was already starting to become compromised.
“Ignoring everything that the news and tabloids try to paint of you, what about your early years? I can’t imagine you jumped out of the womb wearing a fancy suit,” Scott joked, wondering how much they were going to tell each other on the first date no less.
“Nebraska, sounds homey. I’m appallingly unfamiliar with everything the middle. Vegas is the most landlocked I’ve ever been in my life and I’m not convinced I like it.” Hell, even Georgia had a coast of some kind.
“Well don’t ignore everything the news and tabloids and say. That’s most of the impressive parts right there. But I’m from Los Angeles, my parents were filthy rich, my father was crazy smart. I wouldn’t say I was born wearing a fancy suit, but I definitely didn’t have what anyone would call a normal upbringing. I was in MIT by the time I was 15, stayed there earning my fair share of degrees. My parents died when I was 21, I took over the company and the rest is what you’ll find in the news and tabloids.” It wasn’t normal at all, but it wasn’t too exciting either. It was what it was, his life was his life. And while it didn’t have the makings of a Lifetime Original Movie, he’d take it.
Scott stopped and looked over at Anton inquisitively. “I’m not going to lie, you still sound like you’re giving a statement to the press instead of just talking to me, but I’ll take it. Considering you slummed things down for me, I’m game.” He bit his lower lip while grinning and bumped his shoulder against Anton’s. “You might be good looking enough to keep around.” Scott leaned against one of the buildings and stared upwards. “Have you ever thought you were so sure of everything and then it turned around on your face?” he asked with all honesty. He had been more sure about this job from the beginning, but now that it was becoming too close for comfort, he didn’t know what to say or do.
Anton chuckled a bit and shrugged, “I’m not sure what else you’re looking for...I can’t help it if it’s the truth.” And it was. At least as far as first date material went. He had no intention of airing dirty laundry now (preferably never). At least he had good looking for him, no depth or dimension, but hey, he was good looking. He was used to that assertion so he just grinned widely. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what caused the sudden change in conversation, clearly he was the only one following first date rules. He didn’t mind, but he nodded and answered honestly, “Yes, but since then I’ve stopped assuming I’m sure of anything. Safer that way.”
Oh Anton definitely had his good looks going for him...not that Scott would say anything to boost his ego. Not to his face anyways. “Fair enough. It’s only the first date after all, let’s leave something to the imagination.” He nodded at Anton’s next response. “It really is. The moment anyone is sure of a situation they walk into, the sooner they get their butts kicked.” Scott looked away, not wanting Anton to see how truthful that statement was. Such was the life of a CIA agent. “I’m going to sound overly like a lady here, but I’d rather get home before I turn into a pumpkin. Lead the way?” he asked.
He wasn’t entirely sure when the evening had gone from nice and casual to wanting to trade childhood stories, mild philosophical questions about the universe and Scott turning into a pumpkin. But he obliged, and turned on his heel with a smile, “Come on Cinderella, car is this way.”
Maybe the two were hitting it off. Maybe the two were just batshit insane. Either way, Scott was concerned he was giving away too much and needed to nip today in the bud before it got out of hand. Turning around, Scott let them back to the parking lot of the Cosmopolitan, waiting for Anton to open things up and let him in before they could bounce along their merry way. “I’ll let you call me Cinderella, but it will be a cold day in hell before you get me anywhere near a flowing dress and singing to mice, you got that?” He was only half joking over that.
Before Anton could made some sort of remark in general, Scott did as he promised. Sort of. Leaning over the discomforts of the seatbelt, he angled his body so he could temporarily sit as comfortably as he could before pulling on Anton’s tie. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the corner of Anton’s mouth, taking the time to revel in the combined taste of beer and pizza and whatever cologne he was wearing on his neck. Not being able to resist, he nipped his upper lip before pulling back. “Let’s get away from this pumpkin, what do you think?” he asked.