great_pretender (great_pretender) wrote in genome_project, @ 2010-05-30 16:55:00 |
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Current mood: | calm |
WHO: Chris and Quinn
WHAT: Another blind date
WHERE: Restaurant
WHEN: Friday, May 21st
RATING: PG
STATUS: Complete/Closed
How he'd ever let Casey talk him into this was completely beyond one Christopher-James Martin, especially after his last not so brilliant blind date. This woman had her own hair and her own teeth, this much Casey had assured him during her hyper retelling of this grand meeting with the woman of Chris' dreams. Maybe just maybe he was a little disturbed by the thought that his little sister seemed to know more about the woman of his dreams than he did.
So here he was in an Italian restaurant in one of his better three piece suits with a white flower pinned to his chest so his date whoever she was would be able to recognize him. The suit had been Casey's idea and the flower had been his, figuring it would be the easiest way to identify an unknown face in a crowd of many.
God, please just let this one be normal.
Although how bad could she be? She'd gotten by the Casey-test, but then Casey was far more accepting of people than Chris, even if he worked hard at being nothing like his father. But it couldn't be helped if he shared a few character traits in common with the older man.
He hadn't ordered anything, figuring that it was polite to wait, especially as he had no idea what sort of wine his date might like, but he had asked for a water because his throat was dry. Nerves, how he hated them. Chris exhaled a breath and picked up his glass, taking a small sip, before placing the glass on the table again.
The restaurant itself was quite pretty with the way it was decorated and apparently a favourite for old couples, new ones and potential dates. Chris had been watching them to pass the time, determining who was and wasn't in a good relationship, noting their body language and how they spoke to one another.
This was distracting enough that he finally stopped watching the door.
Quinn adjusted the skirt around her knees for what felt like the seventh time; feeling a keen anxiety, coiling so tightly in her stomach that she felt more than once like she might become ill. While she doubted that the man was a deranged lunatic, there was still the warm flare of the blood beneath her skin. He was an entire unknown. She only knew his first and last name, and knew that his sister was a doll, but beyond their brief phone conversation, there was nothing.
Her fingers shook when she outstretched them for the door handle, and she berated herself. He was a grown man, she was a grown woman. This would either go well, or it wouldn't, and if it didn't, it would only be an hour out of her entire life.
She took a deep steadying breath, slipping into the small restaurant, steadying her eyes on the greeter, too nervous to immediately search for the white flower. "I'm looking for a Chris Martin?" Her voice felt shaky, sabotaging any external efforts to keep herself calm. The moment seemed to stretch out, but soon enough she was headed for the small table, smiling softly at a couple that she passed, before her eyes caught on the white flower pinned to the soft blue hue. Her heart pounded as she took in the entire form, and she nearly choked. He was far from unfortunate looking- soft features that melded with the strong structures that could only grace a man. "Oh, dear lord." She said with a quick laugh, feeling a quick rush of heat to her cheeks. It was more like a small burst of nervous energy, but she felt herself relax, the tension unwinding from her quivering legs. "Are you Chris? If you are, I'm Quinn."
Chris knew exactly what he'd been expecting but this beautiful brunette with a flush in her cheeks was far from it and he thought for a moment of sending a text to his sister saying thank you, but decided against it for the moment.
He rose to his feet and offered her a cheek dimpling smile before reaching a hand out to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Quinn. My sister has been nothing short of glowing about you."
She sucked in a breath when he stood to his full height, feeling it shudder down the length of her sternum. There was no shortage of attraction, the man was lovely, and just the faintest upward tick of his smile sent her heart racing like she was sixteen years old. She shook her head slightly as she gathered herself, feeling a few of the weighty curls tumble over her shoulders, taking his hand with a delicate squeeze and shake. "Your sister... she's just... she's a sweet girl. She cares about you a great deal, I'm glad to meet you." She blinked once before slipping her palm from his, trying to ignore the heady way the room seemed to pulse. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long?"
Quinn was a very pleasant surprise, a welcomed pleasant surprise. "Not at all," he assured her with a shake of his head. "I'm always early, for everything. It's kind of a good trait and a bad one." Chris found himself momentarily distracted by Quinn's eyes and had to pull himself back into the conversation. He'd nearly forgotten his manners.
"Here," he said hurriedly as he rounded on the table and pulled her chair out for her, "I haven't ordered yet, wasn't sure what sort of wine you liked and I didn't want to hazard a guess in case I got it wrong and this date, blind date, got off on the wrong foot."
Chris gave a small chuckle and rubbed at the back of his neck as he returned to his side of the table. "I haven't had a great deal of luck."
He seemed as nervous as she was, yet at the same time, spoke with a composed, pleasant demeanor. Chris pulled out her chair, and she grinned broadly, touched by the unexpected gesture. "Thank you." He was close enough when she sat, tucking her skirt gracefully against the chair, that she could smell the clean masculine scent, and even caught the small hint of the rose pinned to his lapel. It was a dizzying sort of combination, and when she crossed her legs beneath the table, she still felt the light way they were shaking with some muted anticipation. "Oh, it's a good trait. I'm normally spot on time, I just- was nervous, and pacing." She didn't let the smile falter, but did feel it take on a small hint of self deprecation. "Thank you for waiting, I'm not too particular about wine, but anything sweet is just... divine."
She noted the small rubbing at the back of his neck with a small note of pleasure. At least she wasn't alone in the anxiety. "I have trouble believing that. You've already surpassed my last two dates, and here we are, three minutes in."
Chris let out a laugh at the idea of her pacing outside of the restaurant although realised he would have been doing the same had he arrived second to the restaurant. "Sweet?" He asked before turning to catch the waiter's eye, making an order for a particularly nice french Wine, a red to be exact, with a nice flavour and a gentle sweetness to it that wouldn't be overpowering.
"My last date? She... well, she lost her hair during our goodnight. To make matters worse it was in the middle of that strange weather and it vaguely resembled a wet rat by the time I handed it back to her." He grimaced faintly at the memory. "It was a very awkward goodnight."
"Suddenly, Casey makes sense." Quinn brought up a hand to stifle her laugh, trying not to draw the attention of the older couple sitting to their left. "She had only a few questions, and one of them was about my hair. The curtain's been pulled back, and I'm enlightened." She felt swept up in some gentle mirth, feeling her chest swelling with it. Thoughtfully, she chewed her bottom lip, unsure how deeply to press with his misfortune. If he were more than a stranger, she would joke, but that sounded awful, and almost traumatizing. "That was very nice of you to retrieve it for her though."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, folding her arms in front of her. "I couldn't imagine, I think yours trump mine for sure."
Chris' eyebrows inched upwards and his eyes widened ever so slightly. "She seriously asked you that? God, I'm so sorry. My sister- She's great and she cares a lot about me so I imagine she didn't want me ending up with another woman whose hair I might have to fish out of a nearby drain."
"How bad have your dates been?"
He leaned forward when she did, not wanting to seem standoffish by leaning back, even if sitting up straight was his natural state.
"She did, but I understood." She waved her hand dismissively. "I thought she was the sweetest thing, really. When she offered this, I wasn't so sure, but I knew that I wanted to meet you. Casey's a bright little... cupcake of a person. She loves you very much, so I had to say yes." She was already feeling glad that she did, and when he leaned forward, she felt the small lance of heat spread over her cheeks. Quinn didn't back away in the slightest, knowing that it was her body reacting to his nearness, rather than inexperience. It was uncontrollable, and acting like some shy teenager would likely be quite off-putting.
Even though she'd broached the topic the moment they sat down, she wanted to move forward, and slowly she smiled. "Bad, but passable. No one reaches their twenties, let alone their thirties with out having a terrible date, yes?" He seemed to have his fair share of them, and had far worse experiences than she did. There wasn't much of a desire to compete, just mere desire to joke and be at ease with Chris. "I can't beat drain fishing, most of mine have been on the depressing side of the spectrum, rather than the 'you'll-find-this-funny-someday' side." She bounced her ankle lightly in time to the ambient music twice before she caught herself. "But there was this one, he just, cried the entire meal. Sat there moodily, glaring at the waitstaff any time they approached, before eventually dissolving into a blubbering mess. To this day, I have no idea why."
Chris' lips pulled into a soft smile when Quinn spoke about Casey, knowing that she was right about his sister. She was in fact the biggest sweetheart to have walked the roads of Frye Island. It was one of the many reasons he had such a hard time staying objective about the project. "She's great," he said with a nod of his head. "I'm lucky to have her."
"Sounds like he was in the middle of a bad break up or in the throes of a nervous breakdown." Chris was about to say something else when the waiter returned with the wine, taking the time to pour them each a glass.
"Are you ready to order?"
Chris had looked at the menu and picked himself out a chicken and mushroom risotto, but knew Quinn hadn't had a lot of time to look so he deferred to her.
The waiter poured the glass in front of her, and Quinn thanked him both in words and a brief incline of her head. It was a beautiful deep red, nearly burgundy in the low light of the restaurant. She hadn't even taken a look at the menu, and when they were asked, she quickly looked to Chris. "I'll have what you are." There was no reason to keep the waitstaff... well waiting, and there was no need to defer Chris' meal any longer. This place had an excellent reputation, and she'd never once had a bad experience.
"Two chicken and mushroom risottos, please." Chris gathered up his menu and passed it to the waiter who after having written down their order took both menus and hurried away in the direction of the kitchen, slip of paper in hand.
Chris rubbed at his hair and then inclined his head. "So, I hear you work for the paper, Quinn. What do you do exactly?" Casey hadn't been specific, too busy squeeing about how great Quinn was and HOW gorgeous. She'd certainly been right on both points.
He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip from it, tongue flicking out over his lower lip as he caught a stray droplet.
"The meal sounds perfect." Her menu went unused, and she passed it their attentive waiter. She inclined her head at the question, and before answering, tucked some of the rogue curls behind her ear. "Oh, I edit the paper, try to stay within the boundaries, but also slightly press them. I like my work a great deal, even if my interest has been splintering, of late. I take it fairly seriously." He was very good at making a person feel at ease; a warm, open demeanor, relaxed (yet still somehow dignified) posture. A friendly inquisitive tone when asking the most simple of questions, and she believed that Chris truly wanted to know what she did. He wasn't just going down a bulleted list of talking points. "Mostly handholding, but fact-checking, aesthetic decisions. The sort of thing that, if everything is running like it should, gets taken for granted by those who read it." She took a sip of her own wine, and as it spread through her palate, her eyes fluttered closed in appreciation. "This... is perfect." It wasn't unbearably sweet, and had just enough flavor that their later meal wouldn't be overpowered.
"What is it that you do?" His looks were still startling, and even as she continued running over the features, she wondered if the appreciation would fade. The pink tip of his tongue slipped out innocently enough, but the quick surge of heat that suddenly bolted to her belly was decidedly not. Such a small little thing, causing such a large physical reaction without even so much as a glance in her direction. "Both for fun, and for a living. If it's both, then that's all the better."
Chris was silent as Quinn talked, letting her speak her mind, giving a small smile now and then when she talked about what she did. Obviously she enjoyed it, that much he could tell from the way her eyes crinkled in the corners during certain parts of her description.
When she tucked hair behind her ear he followed her movements and found himself wondering for a moment how the curls might feel in his hands before catching himself, it was too early to be thinking about those sorts of things.
"Me?" Chris asked, almost surprised that she seemed to care about what his job was. He didn't talk about himself a lot if at all. "I'm the school counselor, doing my best to help the kids figure out life and deal with their issues. It's a rewarding job, but it's a little wearing on occasion."
"Of course you." She shook her head lightly, chuckling at the humble confusion. After all, they were on a date, sharing was a joint effort. "I can imagine it's wearing." He seemed like a counselor, and she imagined he wasn't often asked about his life, and goals, and desires. "But tell me something you love about it. After a really awful day, why do you go back in the morning?" Quinn canted her head, eager for his response.
Chris was silent for a moment as he considered her question, trying to pinpoint what kept him going back to that school to those kids that sometimes felt like lost causes. He even tapped his fingers against the table as his mind slowly worked its way through reason and logic to something more emotional and less... analytical.
"I suppose it's the chance of making a difference," he confessed as he finally looked up at Quinn. "Knowing that I was able to help even if it was in some small way, to make their day better or change the way they look at themselves or how others perceive them," Like Jamie.
He gave a self conscious laugh a second later and hitched a shoulder upwards. "Could do without all the paperwork though."
She grinned further at the laugh, resisting the sudden urge to reassuringly squeeze his tapping fingers. He was so close, that she had to steady her arm in front of her. "I think that's beautiful, special in it's own kind of way. Kids need that driving force, or even simply the open door." His voice was smooth, and his consideration of his answer (as well as his small laugh) were enough to show her that he wasn't merely feeding her lines. It was genuine, and borne entirely from his own personal experience.
Quinn leaned forward, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tenor. "You could always choose not do the paperwork. I promise to keep your secret."
When Quinn leaned forward Chris responded in kind, giving another laugh as she dropped her voice. "I suppose you do have a point," he shared with a slanted smile. "It's not like anybody would have to know." He ducked his head before he flicked his gaze up to Quinn through his lashes, catching a subtle scent of flowers given that he was very close to her.
"It's one of the many things that keeps me late after school has let out for the day."
Chris matched her posture, bearing close enough that she could feel the weight of his dizzying blue gaze. When she drew in a breath, it seemed to vibrate in her chest, releasing only in her clenched abdomen. They'd only just ordered their meal. The only thing she knew about him was that he was a guidance counselor, and yet she felt like she were ready to rest her hand over his. It was a powerful attraction. "Like I said, I'll keep it secret. No one should stay late after work, you need to just say 'to hell with it', and take the afternoon for yourself. No paperwork."
Chris' eyes crinkled in each corner as she promised to keep his secret and encouraged him to take time to himself, half wondering if Casey had mentioned what an unhealthy workaholic he was. She probably had, it was something she would do. "I really should learn how to do that." He picked up his glass and took a sip of wine, exhaling a breath as he looked up at her. "I've just adopted this puppy from my sister's shelter. Thought it might give me a reason to go home. I mean I don't know about you but I'm more inclined to go home if I'm not going back to an empty house." Which right now was further from the truth given the mess Bella was making out of his living room, kitchen, bathroom and not to mention his bedroom.
She rather liked his expressions, and her eyes roved over the lines that only came from familiarity of smiles and laughter. It wasn't pretense, he was kind, and had enjoyed a life full of many things. The observation faded however, her stomach leaping at the thought of this stunning man with a wriggling puppy. "What kind?" Quinn's gaze melted into a quiet, but very real glee. "I agree, though my nephew has been breaking into my apartment with more regularity now that he's a teenager. My mother's quite old, and he's been spending most of his free time avoiding her. But I think that's very true, lovely of you to admit it, really."
"She's a chocolate lab," Chris answered with a touch of affection in his voice. "Absolute nightmare, but she's been keeping me busy and she's kind of adorable when she isn't trying to eat my shoes." He noticed the way her expression changed at the mention of the puppy and found he was relieved that she was an animal lover as he couldn't imagine himself dating a woman who hated animals, especially when he had a sister who was so enamoured of them.
He dragged his fingertips over the rim of the glass and then gave a small laugh. "It sounds like your nephew is quite the talented criminal if he's breaking and entering."
Her entire expression softened once more, but she found herself grinning into her wine glass. "I would have guessed golden retriever, but lab is close. It suits you... ah- well, what little it is that I know about you." Quinn rested the glass on the table, spinning the stem between her thumb and forefinger. "I bet she runs all over you. Those big soft puppy eyes are inescapable."
His laugh was as pleasant as everything about him, masculine and honest. "He's not so great at it, I leave the window unlocked most nights, and he has the alarm code. He just needs a place to go."
Chris' eyes dropped to the delicate fingers that handled the glass, noting the tapering of the tips. "Mm, she does have me wrapped around her little finger." He pulled his gaze from her hands to focus on her, taking a moment to admire the brown hue of eyes that seemed to just... sparkle with life. It was incredible, he'd never seen a woman with such vibrant eyes before.
"Understandable," he said with a nod of his head. "Sometimes it's the smallest of gestures that make the world of difference."
As they were talking the waiter from earlier returned with their meals, placing the plates down in front of them before asking if they wanted salt or pepper.
"Or paws." Quinn wrinkled her nose as she teased, feeling a low kindle at the way his eyes seemed to focus on her own. It was it's own pull, inexorable, and soon she had to avert her gaze to the waiter, unable to process the heat flaring at the back of her neck. "He's a good kid, trying to be a rebel, but he's... it's a bit like watching a cartoon really."
She thanked the waiter, shaking her head no at the offered spice. "I'm not so great with children, he ah- he's pretty forgiving though. If he lived with me, I'm afraid I'd only disappoint."
"I never thought myself very good with children until I was given a baby sister," Chris confessed with a shake of his head as he accepted the offer of salt before gathering up his fork and knife. "Casey was a handful, but a fun one at that." Oh the trouble she used to get into when she was younger, he'd catch her trying to smother cats, rescue injured birds, save drowning insects and other such things.
Not to mention the brief very random year and half where she refused to eat anything that had previously been alive, claiming that animals could talk and they had feelings and it would be wrong of her to silence them. Trying to cook vegetables in new and interesting ways became something of a bother when the child they were intended for decided that they were bored of them now and wanted them different.
"Casey, a handful? I can't imagine that. She seemed nothing but reserved when I met her. A real homebody if you ask me." Playfully she tapped her fork against the edge of Chris' plate, with a quick wink. "Did you raise her? If that's too personal, tell me to step off. I won't mind."
"Casey?" Chris repeated. "A homebody?" He took a moment to imagine that, wondering if the fire department would have an automatic response to her when she attempted to cook. Quite probably. "I'm kind of pleased she's dating a guy who can cook, no worry of her starving or eating bad takeout food all the time."
He took a bite from his risotto and nodded his head. "From the age of six I effectively raised her given that our father was always away on business. Past the diaper stage thank god."
The conversation from there was easy enough, flowing quite naturally from one topic to another, until the pair settled the bill and Chris walked Quinn home. Saying goodnight was relatively easy, the pair exchanging numbers if either of them felt like keeping in touch.
And that was that, the first semi-successful blind date Chris had been on in a while. It made a change from the usual suspects.