Quentin Wagtail (shadowed_artist) wrote in brightstar, @ 2019-08-14 15:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: quentin wagtail, character: rory brynn |
Since the masquerade, Rory Brynn had been keeping to herself. She got up, went to work, came home... if she needed groceries that was the only time she'd ventured out into town. At work, she kept her head down and focused on her job. Something she knew how to do. Something she couldn't fuck up if she tried. She'd pass her time watching a movie or reading. Some nights she'd have a few drinks on her roof just watching the stars. Hell, there'd been many a night that she'd awoken up there with no memory of when she'd fallen asleep. It was only when Njall was reinstated that she'd gone to Snowcap for something other than groceries. She wouldn't have missed it for the world. Not when he'd been so kind to her and checked up on her like he did. She counted him as a friend and Rory was always there for her friends. No matter what. At the Kestral, she'd congratulated Njall and had a drink with him, but mostly stuck to a table at the wall. She was quiet, watching everyone else as she nursed a single beer and argued with herself about when an acceptable time to disappear and go home. In the end, she'd decided to slip out at 10:30 and had fallen into a deep sleep soon after falling into her bed. But one good turn deserved another, right? Rory knew she was never going to find her way again ifs she continued being a hermit. Fishing didn't count. Fishing meant she was outside and people were usually outside. It was sheer coincidence that she'd run into Kimiko and Andi out there. This—lunch at Delilah's—was something that she was deciding for herself. Even if she was on her own, she was in town for something other than groceries. She was interacting with the public. Sort of. Baby steps. She'd settled into a table at the back against a window and enjoyed the sunlight as it streamed through for a moment before she cracked open the book she was reading, the original Grimm's Faerie Tales, and let herself get lost until the waitress came to take her order. If there was one thing she could be grateful about, at the very least, it was that her appetite was still operating normally. Roasted salmon with gree beans and tomatoes had been something she ordered often here before so it seemed apt to her to order it for her return. And a glass of water to go with it. Back home, it would have been sweet tea. But these poor Yankees just couldn't fix sweet tea the right way to save their lives so she figured she'd keep it simple. With her order taken and her water delivered, Rory turned her attention back to her book, fingers idly twirling the ends of her hair. Hopefully soon she'd get herself back to normal, then maybe that would go back to normal too. She missed the color it used to be. Hell, she missed the woman she used to be. That was someone she wanted to find again... and soon. Quen wasn’t one to eat out - he liked the routine of cooking. The creative aspects of it. The way it proved he was still there and functioning. Last night however had been a night when the creative spicket had been turned on full and he hadn’t gotten anything done other than brain storm. Good news was that he had advertising and campaigns ideas through the holidays. Bad news was that he had eaten his meal prepped lunch for a snack around 3 am and hadn’t taken the time to replenish it. So here he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Delilah’s. He did. He loved it a bit too much and he didn’t want to have to go on a running kick to get rid of the cinnamon rolls he was overly fond of more often than he had to. But between work and family and Thorne. Thorne. He wasn’t going to think about his possible non-ex boyfriend right now. It was exhausting and he wasn’t sure what the deal was. It seemed like they were back together. Which was great. But he wasn’t sure they were. Because it was Thorne and his communication skills were not his strong suit. Never had been or would be. He was sitting at the counter getting ready to order his meal when he saw Rory. Sitting alone. And he hadn’t seen Rory since - that night. Asking for another minute he tapped his fingers on his menu and then got up from the counter and made his way over to the table. “Hey Rory….” He gave her a friendly smile, “I was wondering if you had company for lunch? I didn’t think to invite anyone from the office and it’s usually more fun to eat with company….” The realization while she was helping Nat was one she was still trying to sort out. She knew she could be better than she was. Knew she could do better. But then that same night—or rather the morning after—she'd turned right around and been the one to stay when Thorne needed looking after. She wasn't sure whether to call that a positive or a negative, though she was leaning towards the latter. Especially since she was ignored for the most part. But then again, that was kind of what she was expecting. His words still bothered her. "—now I can't get the taste of Rory out of my mouth." She hadn't expected anyone to want to join her. After all, she'd come in alone and she hadn't made plans to meet anyone. Most people here seemed to know each other and were friendly. The staff was definitely friendly, which was one reason Rory liked it here. But other than that, she'd fully expected to eat and read alone. So when none other than Thorne's boyfriend showed up at her table, asking if he could join her, Rory was taken by complete surprise. So much so that it took her a moment to register exactly what he was asking. "Oh. Oh, yeah, um. Sure, have a seat. It's just me. Though, I don't know how much fun Ah'll be at tha moment. Ain't really been gettin' much sleep. I could be completely borin' company." She didn't really know Quen that well. She knew that he worked at the Reserve. Knew that he was seeing Thorne. And that he'd been the only one she'd actually spoken to at the masquerade after what happened... and that was only to give him Thorne's wand and tell him where to go. The thought that the last time this man had seen her she was covered in blood and was a crying mess crossed her mind, and her hand went to her hair for a second in self-awareness. Because the time before that was at the meeting, where she'd started that evening out with a very different color. "How have ya been?" “I think that with as fried as my brain is today - the chances of me being the best company ever is a bit slim - but you never know. We could surprise each other.” Quen said with a smile and a shrug as he slid in across from her at the table, “Besides, I feel like I have been an awful coworker and not taken you to lunch yet to welcome you and I know you and Thorne are friends - and that’s been a rollercoaster of insanity….” Shaking his head, “None of which answers your question - I am sorry.” Quen said with a shake of his head, he had been spending too much time just talking to Thorne if he was talking in circles like that, “I am doing well - slammed and busy but that’s good. Or so I am told.” He looked at her closer, “And you?” He was quiet for a moment, “But Thorne is a whole other conversation - and one I think we would both need more than food and water or iced tea to get through so….” He ordered his burger, fries and an iced tea with lime, and then turned back to Rory, “Grimm’s Fairy Tales - please tell me that they are the original stories and not the prettier versions? I mean - if they are the pretty versions - that’s all fine and dandy.” He took his tea and sipped it - squeezing the limes in, “But if you haven’t read the others - I strongly encourage it.” “Which is your favorite?” Rory couldn't help the entertained smile that crossed her features as she sat there watching as the man slid into the seat across from her. He was amusing. And seemed genuinely nice. "Don't feel bad. A lot has gone on since I signed on. I don't know if it's always this crazy around here or if mah addition came with some bad luck, but no worries. Things have been... pretty nasty, I guess would be an apt description of late." However, with the mention of Thorne, Rory's smile turned a little sad for a moment. She didn't know if they were friends or not anymore. The only thing that replayed in her head when she wondered was the way he looked at her that night. Like she was something disgusting. Apparently, it still had the ability to break her heart a little. Clearing her throat, she pushed the thoughts away and returned to the conversation with Quen as he spoke. "Slammed an' busy can be good, though, right? I mean, Ah'm no expert, but if yer always busy, yer in demand. And if yer in demand, then you must be damn good at yer job, right?" The smile she shot his direction this time was a nicer one. There was no amusement or sadness backing it. Just a typical, everyday smile a person expected to see. When he did get back around to Thorne, she forced herself not to wonder what he meant. Did he know? How she felt about Thorne? How Thorne felt about her? She genuinely hoped not. Finding out someone was in love with your boyfriend or that your boyfriend hated someone was not the best for a possibly forming friendship. And worrying about it was even less productive. So she was glad when the conversation took another turn. This time towards her book. "Ahh, they're the originals. I finally got time ta start it. Though, I have ta admit, so far—an' don't laugh—mah favorite is Sleeping Beauty. I know what happens to her is terrible, but there's a second part to it that isn't found here. In tha original, tha tale goes on ta tell about tha life of tha prince an' princess an' their two children aftah she's awakened. It's really interestin' an' has a happy endin'." Her curiosity got the better of her when it came down to it, of course. If he asked her what her favorite one was and he'd read these, then he must have a favorite of his own. "What's yers?" Grabbing one of the extra napkins, he listened to her and nodded as she explained about the story she was so fond of, “It’s one of the more intriguing ones. Especially with the full story - I agree.” He grinned at her, “It’s going to sound silly but you might have it in there as ‘The Little Red Cap. It’s the story of Little Red Riding Hood.” He was already doodling her a sketch of Sleeping Beauty - per the original story - only napping in a booth like their own. Doodling helped him focus on conversations because then he wasn’t overthinking everything. “Slammed is great until it leads to the creative thought process keeping you up till three in the morning because you have so many thoughts and your home office is taken over by post-it notes of various sizes and thumb tacks.” Quen shot her a sheepish look, “Let me tell you - it’s a think that is just a bit terrifying - old office mates gave me post-it’s with eyes. And it feels like the eyes are following you. It’s creepy as hell….but you don’t forget what’s written on those notes I will tell you that.” He moved slightly with his sketch on a napkin when their food arrived and he eyed her plate, “Rory, let me say, I truly like your taste in fairy tales, but your plate of food is lunch shaming me a bit. I feel like I need to make you eat some of my french fries so I feel less like I am going to have be running this meal off for the next week.” He actually moved some of his fries to her plate with a very innocent look on his face and he even batted his lashes at her. "Not silly at all," Rory laughed. "Tha dangahs of not listenin' ta Mama an' not checkin' ta see if that truth is bein' told. Though, I do wondah about that wolf still bein' alive aftah that huntah cuts them out an' replaces them with stones just so that wolf can die aftahwards. Wouldn't tha wolf die from bein' cut open in that first place?" Even as she wondered about it out loud, she saw the uselessness in it and laughed at herself. "Though, these are faerie tales we're talkin' about. I suppose ta wondah about thangs like that is a little ovah board, ain't it?" Rory winced at what he described and shook her head slowly. "Ooh, negative. I can definitely see how that would be a problem." Her own job alone kept her up sometimes, but her need to see the stars sometimes even overrode that. "I can sympathize. Though, ta be fair, mine ain't so much that creative process as it is lyin' on mah roof an' watchin' tha stars." She liked the way that it made her feel like there were bigger things in the universe. The thought that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all there was. That in the grand scheme of things, there was always more. Of course, when he described the post-its currently littering his wall, she actively cringed. "Why, fer tha love of all thangs holy an' baby Jesus, would ya put herself through that kinda nightmare? Just picturin' it gives me that willies." When their food arrived, Rory couldn't help but inhale the scent of it. It smelled delicious and she couldn't wait to dig in. Of course, that was halted a moment when he spoke and promptly slid some of those yummy looking french fries to her plate. Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. "Next thang ya know, yer gonna call me up at the crack of why am I awake an' tell me it's mah fault ya ate that an' that I hafta go runnin' with you," she teased, shaking her head. To be honest, she had thought about adding a morning or evening jog to her schedule, if only for the way she noted that people seemed to blank out and focus on nothing but their next step or their breathing. She could certainly see why Thorne liked him. Easy on the eyes, sure, but he seemed to be the genuinely kind sort. And he was funny as well. "If it makes ya feel bettah, we can share both meals. That way ya don't feel as bad. Cain't have ya cryin' about lunch shamin' an' all that. Mah reputation would nevah recovah." To emphasize her point, she picked up one of the fries he'd slipped to her plate and took a bite, grinning. “Because my former co-workers are cruel asshats that I miss dearly. Even if they found the creepiest post-its ever to feed my constant need for more of them.” He shrugged and grinned, “I have a few more pads of them if you want some. Sharing is caring - or so Sesame Street taught me many moons ago.” A dark blonde brow went up, “So you are up for running with me? Great.” He popped a fry into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, “I was looking for a new running partner and here you are offering your services.” He bowed his head, “I can’t thank you enough. Although I refuse to run before sunrise if I can at all help it. Just some information.” He and Thorne weren’t at the ‘running together’ part of things. Mainly - Quen didn’t have enough boyfriend points to make Thorne run with him. But if Thorne’s friend Rory, who seemed lovely and sweet and fun to talk to, was open to running with him. He might do more than run on his treadmill and dictate notes into his recorder for campaign concepts. “I won’t tell anyone you lunch shamed me. Cross my heart.” He speared a piece of asparagus off her plate and chewed it thoughtfully, “Not bad - I can definitely see why you ordered it. You have very good taste in lunches m'lady.” He bowed his head at her, “I very much approve indeed.” "Oh, goodness, no. I thank I have enough in mah life that I don't need ta go addin' any post-its with eyes, thank you. Sesame Street was right, but let's share somethin' else instead, yeah?" The moment it was out of her mouth, she couldn't help but widen her eyes at her choice of words. She could practically feel the color rising in her cheeks. Thankfully, Quentin was already moving on to the next topic... Running. She could go with this so much easier. "I didn't quite offah, but I suppose I could do it just ta put us outta yer misery," she replied with a fake sigh and an exaggerated roll of her dark eyes. "I mean, from what I undahstand it's no fun ta do that runnin' all on yer own. Someone's gotta chase ya, right? Ain't that how that works?" Okay, so maybe she was overcompensate a little bit, trying to cover her own unease at her baby steps being forced into full on strides, but she thought she was doing okay. For now. Until she put her foot in her mouth again. She was certain it would come eventually. She couldn't seem to keep things happy lately no matter how hard she tried. Ford's visit was a prime example of that. She hadn't really seen him since and that stung a little. Baby steps. "Oh, you lunch shamed yerself an' ya know it. I had nothin' ta do with that. Completely innocent due to tha fact that I ordahed before ya evah joined me." Still, she was grinning as he stole a piece of asparagus and approved of her choice. She took her own bite of the salmon and chuckled once she'd swallowed it. "Mmm... That is good, ain't it?" “See, but then I have to own my own lunch choices.” Quen said, popping another fry into his mouth, “And I am not sure how I feel about that.” His laugh was a bit deep and rumbling, “And I don’t know about chasing the other person. But I do find it more fun to run if I have company. Or - if nothing else- there is someone expecting me to show up at the trail. Otherwise the snooze button is so very tempting.” He moaned in pleasure as he took a bite of the hamburger, chewed and then swallowed, “I am sorry if you are against red meat. I mean - I assumed you weren’t vegan because - fish - but you never know.” Pointing at his burger, “AMAZING - and there is bacon. Which - as we all now - makes everything so much better.” He studied her curiously and then tilted his head. There was something about her appearance. Her hair seemed different. But she was armed with silverware and if she hadn’t done something with her hair and attacked him with a fork the next time he went for some asparagus because he hadn’t noticed sooner… Well - it was good asparagus. He would wait and comment once weaponry had been removed from reach. He took another moment to change sleeping beauty’s hair on his doodle to match her ponytail style. He wished he had his gel pens if nothing else - this sketch would look better colored. "You could feel absolutely satisfied that yer stuffin' yer face with a burgah that looks ridiculously delicious," she pointed out, chuckling. "I mean, ain't no shame in somethin' a little unhealthy every so often, right? Eat an' do what makes ya happy." Rory did, in fact, enjoy a good hamburger. And she did it often enough that she had the curves to prove it. But she also did try to eat a little healthier more often than not. Sugar and junk food were just guilty pleasures... and Laura would think someone had replaced her with a pod person if she ever turned down good wine. "I like mah red meat. A good medium rare steak is always delicious. So you've got nothin' ta worry about. Even if Ah didn't, it ain't mah place ta judge ya fer what ya eat." She was a big believer in not judging people. The little halfling couldn't help but chuckle at his comment about bacon. She also had to agree. "Ya eithah love it, or you are wrong," she confirmed with a sharp nod of her head and a chuckle. Another piece of asparagus was paired up with a bite of salmon on said fork and brought to her lips. It was obvious she enjoyed it, but yeah... it might have been better with some bacon. "So, I nevah asked before because, well... Ah mean... I nevah really see ya around. What is it that you do at tha Reserve exactly?" she asked, once she'd swallowed her food. Her curiosity was always getting the better of her. Their older brother had nicknamed her Alice because of it once upon a time. “I am a mystery ninja.” Quen said with a completely straight face and then grinned at her, “I am actually in marketing and advertising. So the signage, the events, the brochures? A lot of that was at one time a doodle on my napkin.” He held up his doodle with the flair of a co-host on a game show. “See, I knew you had good taste. First asparagus and now bacon. If you like wine and beer - I think we will be very good friends. Well, that and you let me crash your lunch break and took pity on me. All good things.” “But that also means I spend a lot of time either buried in my office under post-it notes and sketches and idea boards - which is like real life Pinterest but without the recipes - and I don’t get to be OUT in the preserve as much as I like. Other than for my runs and to take lots of pictures to use in said idea boards.” “But now here is the question that may make or break our friendship Rory. How do you feel about pineapple on pizza. I know this is a controversial topic of our time - but I do have very strong feelings of being in favor of pineapple on pizza.” he gave her a very serious face, but his lips were twitching and his eyes were glinting with a bit of mischief. Rory smirked, popping another forkful of her lunch into her mouth and swallowing. "Mystery ninja sounds way coolah," she teased, reaching out to snag another fry from his plate. Of course, when he held up the napkin, her eyes widened and the smirk morphed into a grin. "That is awesome! Is that me?" "I love wine. Beer is hit or miss, dependin' on tha brand. Ah'm a suckah fer a good amaretto, though." Mixed with cranberry juice, that stuff was delicious. On the rocks was good too if it was the top shelf stuff. There were a lot of things amaretto could be mixed with and still be delicious. "I couldn't imagine bein' cooped up. Ah'm far too claustrophobic fer that. Even at work, I gotta get out an' walk the reserve every so often. Get tha feel of bein' outside. Keep tha walls from closin' in." The memory of the masquerade and the way Njall effectively trapped her within her own skin made her shudder, but she pushed it back just as quickly. "To be completely honest," she started, leaning forward as she whispered conspiratorially, "Ah've nevah actually had pineapple on pizza. So I wouldn't know eithah way." Her father had been ardently against it, calling it unnatural. As a result, Rory never had a piece. It never even crossed her mind to order any once she'd moved from home. But the amusement she felt at the question was definitely present in the flash of her eyes. “You haven’t have pineapple on your pizza.” Quen winked at her and nodded solemnly, “Rory, I am so sorry that you have been denied this joygasm of culinary excellence is a very sad thing.” He reached over and patted her hand briefly, “But next time - my treat - and it will be pizza. I promise to order you subpar-pineapple-less pizza just in case you are one of the sad ones who doesn’t enjoy it.” He had always been ‘cooped up’ for work. With his parents being the way they were - a job in an office was nice and stable and dependable. All things that his nomadic childhood had made him crave. He supposed working here was the best of both worlds. He was able to get out and roam for pictures and inspiration - but had the steadiness of office work, “I can see where that would have appeal. I do like going out and getting pictures and inspiration.” Quen said, between bites of his food, “But I - due to a very long story that would need to involve wine - I do what I do. I love what everyone else does though to keep this place running. It’s amazing.” “Oh! Speaking of running…” He looked at her, “What time works for you - I am holding you to agreeing to run with me.” Shaking her head, it seemed the smile on Rory's face was glued there as he teased her. "Look, Ah'm willin' ta try anythang once, but I don't need yer ego blowin' up like dynamite if I do like it. Undahstand?" She pointed her fork at him as she spoke, using it as as a sort of physical punctuation to her words. "An' if I don't, no teasin' tha Being. I might turn you into a pizza or somethin'." Okay, so she couldn't really do that, and anyone who knew her knew that, but she could playfully make the threat anyway. It was nice, really, being able to sit with someone and just laugh through a conversation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd really done it. Funny that it would be this man she was doing it with. The irony was not lost on her by any means. But it seemed that Quen made it easy somehow. Easy was something that was definitely appreciated at the moment. He didn't even realize the kind of gift he was giving her with his simple conversation and company. Reaching out, she finished off her water and quickly requested a refill once the waiter had come back around. "I usually get ta work early. Six, six-thirty. But if ya wanna go runnin' around then I can shove it back ta seven. I don't technically hafta be in till eight, so Ah'd still be early enough ta check on all tha animals." “Just make sure if you do that you turn me into a pizza with pineapple on it.” Quen said with a shrug. It was far from the worst threat he had ever been on the receiving end of. Or the worst thing someone had threatened to turn him into, “Just nothing with mushrooms on it please.” Hearing her hours - Quen took a moment to blink and then remind himself that not everyone kept his hours. And really - getting up early wasn’t the end of life as he knew it. But was the sun even up at that time. No, it would be fine. Completely fine. He could get up early. And run. “Well how about 5:30? I don’t want to mess with your schedule so much. Is that going to work out alright for you?” He asked, polishing off his burger. Mentally he was praying she said no and bumped it back a bit. "Ya realize ya just handed me tha perfect revenge, right? I could turn ya into tha perfect vengeance pizza. Pineapple pizza with mushrooms on it." Chuckling, she finished off her lunch and set the plate aside to sip on her water some more. The urge to leave his company wasn't there, in fast it was quite the opposite. "Are ya sure that's alright with you? I mean, I can do that. But you said you don't like gettin' up before tha sun. An' that's barely pushin' it," she chuckled. "I can work with whatevah. What time do ya normally go runnin'?" She could give him that easily, she was sure. If nothing else, she could take her break earlier in the day instead of in the afternoon and use that to run with him. There were always ways to work out a schedule. Compromise was key, after all. "I only ask because ya went a little pale in tha face when ya offahed up 5:30," she teased. “Well, it’s very early. But I can do early.” He gave a firm nod of his head. He could. Maybe. Then he groaned and rested his head on his hands, “Okay, I am usually an afternoon to evening runner.. Because you morning people are strange and there isn’t any sunlight then. And the coffee places are open for a rewarding iced coffee when you are done running.” He gave her a hopeful look from between his fingers, “I don’t suppose you would mind running in the afternoon or evenings since you get up at an insane time of the morning?” He batted his lashes at her, “And if not I will get up to run with you at 5:30. I can do it. I just think you are all nuts.” "Oh, fer gosh sakes," Rory laughed. "That's all ya had ta say. Ah'm used ta runnahs bein' up at tha crack o' dawn. I can run with ya in tha evenin's. Ain't been doin' much with mah time then anyway." Rolling her eyes playfully, she shook her head and contemplated dessert. If they were going to be running anyway, might as well enjoy working off something, right? "Dessert ta celebrate yer new runnin' partnah then?" she offered, leaning back in her seat and grinning. "Ah'll even let you pick it." Perking up at the idea of dessert, Quen shook his head chuckling, “Yes, I like the idea of dessert to celebrate becoming running partners.” he scanned the options and flagged down their server ordering the triple apple pie with cinnamon ice cream on the side and coffee. “Okay, apple pie and cinnamon ice cream. I got it on the side incase you are not a fan of a la mode pie.” he gave her a suddenly concerned look, “I didn’t think to ask you liked pie. We are really dealing with a lot of our food milestones as friends in this one meal aren’t we. So - pie - specifically fruit pie - for or against? Because I may have to do a running tackle on our server if you are against or have emotional issues with apples. It’s thing - trust me. I don’t understand it - but it’s a thing.” "Bettah ta get them outta tha way, Ah'd thank," she chuckled, shrugging. "I do like pie, though. Apple pie is mah favorite. So, good choice." At least he hadn't ordered something that would really go to her hips. And thighs. And stomach. She'd have to run extra long to take it off. "Ah've nevah had tha cinnamon ice cream, though. So that's new. Is it good?" If he was ordering it, he likely thought so. And Rory, well, like she'd told him, she was willing to try anything once. It was always a learning experience one way or the other. "No need ta go wrasslin' tha servah. Keep that bottom in it's seat." Quentin raised a brow at her, “I will have you know - I have a trophy in server wrestling. I could have gone pro - but I wanted the college experience instead.” He shook his head sadly, “And I think the last person to refer to that part of me as my ‘bottom’ was my mother.” He saluted her anyway, “Bottom is firmly planted ma’am.” then he relaxed a bit, “I can confirm that the cinnamon ice cream here is amazing. Cao has confirmed to me that she makes it herself and has refused to give me the recipe on many occasions that I have asked for it.” The server came back with the desert at that time, their laugh was bright, “The ice cream recipe? Yeah, she won’t share that with anyone.” Quentin pointed is clean fork in emphasis, “I know - which is entirely unfair Cao.” He called out the last part a bit louder. “Bite me Wagtail - I am not giving it out to anyone. Even Ben doesn’t know it.” Was the call back from the kitchen. Quen looked right at Rory, “See? Completely unreasonable.” Rory shrugged, smirking at him as he basically compared her to his mother. "Well, I coulda told ya not ta un-ass that chair, but I was tryin' ta be somewhat polite. Fer all I know ya coulda gone all angry tribble on us an' we couldn't have that. Yer not as furry or little so I don't thank it would have been as cute." She simply watched the exchange between Quen, their server, and the voice that must have been the infamous "Cao" in the back. If this was the kind of thing she was going to be exposed to having him around, she actually might have to keep him. The exchange even had her hair flickering a bit for a split second. "Maybe if ya did somethin' real nice she might share it with ya. Or just make ya a whole lot of it." She doubted that was the case, but suggestions never hurt. She wouldn't be where she was now, entrenched in this hilarity, if not for suggestions from Kimiko Proudfoot. Or even her run-in with Uma Brightstar. And she was really glad she was experiencing this. Looking highly affronted, Quen pointed his fork at Rory. Which might have been mildly concerning ir there wasn’t dripping cinnamon ice cream on it, “I will have you know that I have been wonderful and generous and welcoming….” And then there was a red head next to their table. She was petite with her hair up in a messy bun - in a stained apron, “Are you telling lies, Wagtail?” Quen huffed at the newcomer, “No, I am not. I am simply explaining to my new friend Rory that you are stingy with your recipes.” Cao rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Other than your questionable - eat your pie, Quentin - lunch company - is everything else alright Rory?” His voice muffled with pie, “I am not questionable!” Quen said. “You are talking with your mouth full - you are questionable.” Rory was soaking it all up, looking like she sarcastically believed every word coming from his mouth, right up until they were joined by none other than the woman herself. She was effortlessly gorgeous. This was who with the eldest Adler sibling? That boy must have some serious game. Or be packing some serious weaponry. The way she playfully shut Quen down and his own reaction to it had Rory almost stifling a giggle as she took a bite of her own pie, swallowing before she spoke of course. "Everythang is delicious, ma'am. You run a nice place an' tha food is great. I might hafta start comin' back through more often." Of course, that meant running more often too. But she had gone on a hike recently. Getting out again was doing wonders for her mood. Looking over at Quen as he tried to argue, Rory nodded solemnly. "Mama always told me it was impolite ta talk with yer mouth full." “Hanging out with people who have manners. I think she will be a good influence on you.” Cao said with a small grin at the artist who was looking very put upon. “I will have you know I am a lovely person to lunch with. I have been told I am delight.” “Your boyfriend doesn't count.” Cao shot back. “If you ever hear Thorne use the word ‘delight’ he’s drunk.” Quen said with a shake of his head,m “But since I introduced you to Rory - who IS a delight. Would you share the ice cream recipe with her?” “No, but I will comp your desserts since you are being nice for once.” Cao said and shook Rory’s hand one more time, “It was truly nice to meet you Rory. I do hope to see you again.” Once the chef was back in her kitchen, Quen looked at Rory, “Sorry about that I keep hoping one day to get the recipe. THere is some ingredients I can’t put my finger on and it’s driving me nuts.” Rory was quiet for the entire interaction until Cao turned her attention back to her and reached out to shake her hand again. "It was a pleasure," she agreed with that southern twang lilt. "Ah'll definitely be back around." Once the other woman took her leave back to the kitchen, Rory's dark eyes turned back to Quen, practically glowing with laughter... and then her mouth joined in. "Well, I guess bein' called questionable is worth a free dessert?" she questioned, reaching out with her fork to take some of the cinnamon ice cream he'd been raving over this entire time. She was a little proud of herself. She didn't look away or blush or anything she'd been trying not to do when Thorne was mentioned lately. There was a clench of her jaw as she held her smile, but that was all. When she finally got a mouthful of the ice cream in question, her eyes widened. "Oh... oh! Sweet fancy Moses on buttahed toast, what is this?" It was heavenly. It was amazing. It was almost better than sex (even though she'd only had it the once... twice...). Rory decided right then and there that this... she needed to figure out the recipe for this. Knowing Cao wouldn't give it out, she knew she'd be figuring it out on her own. Or maybe with Quen. Quen nodded, “I KNOW right? In the fall she makes an apple cider version with this as the base. It’s better than sex.” He ate it and noded, “Fucking hell it’s amazing.’ He turned and called out, “Cao - I will get you my first born.” “Nope!” He groaned and looked back at Rory, “This is just too good. I may have to dedicate a weekend to ice cream experimentation. There has to be a way to figure out what she does to it that makes it this good. I mean - cinnamon ice cream is normally great - but this is just REALLY amazing.” He held up a hand, “And don’t tell me it’s love. I tried that and it wasn’t even close.” She wasn't thinking about who she was talking to when the next words came out of her mouth... mainly because her brain was wrapped around the deliciousness that was this ice cream, "Considerin' tha fact Ah've only had sex tha once, I cain't, in good faith, argue that point," she laughed, shaking her head and taking another mouthful of it with a piece of pie. Her laugh was accompanied by another flicker of her hair as she reacted to Quen and Cao again, shaking her head in amusement at Quen's groan of failure. "If yer lucky, I might even help ya," she stated, grinning. "I love cookin'." Of course, as she was looking at the hand he held up to keep her from saying what she was going to say, her mouth already open to do so, her nose scrunched up and she huffed. "Fine, just take away all mah theories then. Leave me theory-less an' alone in mah misery for havin' mah creativity stifled." It was faux soap opera dramatics at its finest as she rolled her eyes imploringly to the ceiling, looking quite put upon. Her comment about only having had the one sexual encounter - made him blink. He had no idea what people around here were looking for. But maybe it was choice. Maybe - unlike himself - she had the self preservation to not get involved with a walk, talking case for insanity. No matter what though - it wasn’t his place to judge. Look at who he was with. His self preservation and common sense… “I will take the help. We will drink wine and disect ice cream ingredients. I will even put on Great British Bake Off in the background to inspire us to greatness. Or will end up making biscuits. One or the other.” He grinned, “We can make biscuit bowls to hold our ice cream. And we will be hailed as brilliant by my cat if no one else.” He looked down at his smart watch when it buzzed, “Fuck a motherless goat, I have a conference call in 20 minutes.” He pulled out a business card and flipped it over scrawling his cell number on the back, “Here is my email and my cell. Call and we will finalize our running and ice cream plans yes?” He gave her a hopeful look as he slipped the server his card to cover both meals. “And my treat - I invaded your lunch.” Oh, what tangled webs fate weaved. If Quen only knew... There was much more that the two of them had in common when it came to self preservation and common sense, but Rory's thoughts weren't there any longer. Rory's thoughts were on wine and ice cream. "That sounds absolutely perfect! We'll be feline heroes. Cats will fall down on their tiny paws ta worship our awesomeness. It'll be Egypt in reverse." She found herself frowning when he realized what time it was. Had it really been that long? Goodness. "Go," she chided, waving her hands once she'd taken the card and put it in her pocket. Before she could offer to pay for lunch in repayment of his introducing her to the ice cream, he was already passing the waitress his card and telling her that he had it. "It was a welcome invasion, thank you," she assured him, chuckling. "Now, off with ya. Shoo. Ah'll send mah numbah latah." |