Who:Alana and Greg What:Date! ... Thing. Where:Driving and Alana's When:BACKDATED Friday, Aug 21st Warnings: Alana's continues to have language issues.
No flowers! Check!
Didn't open any doors. Check!
No touching of hands, arms, feet, or elbows. Check!
Taking Alana to dinner was almost in reverse of everything Herakles had ever learned about women. It was slightly bewildering and confusing when you'd been under the belief that all women were to be treated well and with care. But, it was also a challenge. And he eagerly accepted it.
It wasn't like Alana was about to punch him for any of it though. She just wasn't in a date phase of mind. So rather than thinking of it as a date, it was just a night out having dinner with a friend. There was the normal teasing and joking, questions about things going on and planning of the next fight lesson or surfing chance. And now, as they exited the Olive Garden, Alana spun around to face Greg as he was walking through the doors she'd already passed through. "Come on, one night. We'll find some dance place and you'll give me two hours of your precious time. What's the point of learnin' anythin' 'bout dancing if you don't ever go out?"
"Because there's a difference between the two of us dancin' and me trampling innocents?" he asked with a laugh, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Think of the children!"
"Oh please! I'm not talkin' some crowded club. I'm talking someplace meant for dancing. Like ballroom or somethin'." She rolled her eyes and turned to look for their vehicle. Where was it parked again?
Seeing that she was looking, Herk hit the unlock button on his key, and waited for the beep. Ah, there it was. "Ballroom? I didn't know you like ballroom stuff," he said, heading in the direction of the sound.
She shrugged. "Honestly haven't done it that much. But sometimes there's places that'll do a lesson, followed by open dancing." Resting her hands in her pockets, she began to walk to the car.
He considered it, opening the side of the car for her as he did so; one thought process at a time, now. "Well. I'm rusty, but if you wanna, sure."
She paused before getting in, peering up at him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Cool." Smirking, she climbed into the passenger seat.
"What's the nearest place, then?" he asked, as his brain caught up with him. Wait. Dancing? Ballroom? That sounded suspiciously like date-like behavior. People who weren't couples didn't ballroom dance anymore. But. Wait.
Huh?
It was dancing. Considering that people didn't even 'date' the people they had sex with sometimes, Alana would have probably gone off on a tangent rant about the whole concept. It was for the best she couldn't hear thoughts. "Don't know. I haven't really looked much. Tannia wanted some place ta go, either salsa or ballroom or somethin', and said there were a few spots around."
"Around here, or around Miami?" he asked as they started to head down the road and up to the first stop light. "I mean, that's alot of 'arounds' possible."
"Around within thirty minutes of her place. Fucked if I know where exactly she meant." Then again, with traffic, sometimes the jaunts that should take ten took nearly an hour. Or so it seemed.
The same thought crossed Greg's mind, judging by his expression. "Well, nothing but time. Let's head out."
She gestured to the space before them. "You're the one drivin'."
And so they went. As they got onto the highway that would take them closer to Tannia's neighborhood, he asked, "So... I'd ask how work's going, but that'd be kind of dumb."
"You hear 'bout the bettin' pool?" she asked, curious about where he was heading. Eh, she'd find out soon enough. Not like she was in a huge rush to get home and let the dog out. He'd be good for a few hours yet.
Greg blinked at her. "Betting pool? 'Bout what?"
"There's a few of them, but the one the old man mentioned was about us." Oh yes, that one. Not the 'how long before so and so gets fired' one, or the 'what will happen next in such and such soap opera' or the one no one had yet created of 'who would suffer the most the next time Alana got pissed'.
Well, the last one did exist, she just didn't know it. "Like... what about us? How, exactly?"
"I think his phrasing was 'if I send you home without a kiss', or if 'you win me over'. Apparently part of the staff thinks I'm a bitch, and the rest are romantics." She wasn't really that much of a bitch. She just couldn't stand complete idiots. And sometimes, the staff could be rather big idiots.
"Huh," was all Greg said for a bit, though with a frown. "M'sorry. Didn't realize there was some weird office stuff going on. I mean, they didn't put me up or anything."
Alana shrugged. "Bet came up after ya asked me, far as I know."
Now he was frowning as he drove, though his eyes remained firm on the road. He wasn't sure how he felt at that. Offended? Kinda. But why? He'd done the same sort of bets about friends, just in jest, as he was sure the employees were doing. None of them were mean enough to do it out of spite. So, why... "Which side was Dad on?"
She paused, considering, then frowned. "I'm gonna say on your side, since when I mentioned the 'get Greg a date fund' he said that I needed more help then you did..."
Greg let out a big laugh at that, then quickly shifted into the next lane, as the amusement almost distracted him from a necessary turn. "Really? He's a hell of an optimist if he thinks I have ease getting dates."
"And yet, he didn't believe me when I said so..." She smirked at his reaction, reaching up to grab the handle above the door as he took the turn off. "If there was a way ta fuck with the pool, I'd be all for startin' whatever rumor would."
The god rolled his eyes again. He was doing that way too often tonight. "Peachy. Did he say which side was winning? 'Cause that means I'll have to root for the underdog."
"Not much. Ya might have to check with the fellows. They prob'ly wouldn't tell me shit without me threatin' them." And really, that'd probably feed some other betting pool. They needed a smaller staff and fewer betting pools. Someone had to be keeping track of them all though. Maybe the bartender...
"Ahhh." Which side, he wondered now. Herk would admit, he liked games. Including gambling. So he couldn't help but ponder on the thought until they pulled up in front of Tannia's home. "So, where from here?" he asked, since they were using her house as the starting point for the search of this mysterious ballroom place.
Alana blinked. "... Depends on where we're goin'..." There must have been a miscommunication somewhere
He paused in his parking to blink back at her. "That place you said we should go to," he said slowly. Did she have amnesia or somethin? "Ballroom. You said we should go. I said yes. You agreed, and said it was by Tannia's."
"Go... sometime." Alana chuckled. "I didn't mean tonight. I figured that you'd want some more time ta try an' dig yourself out of it or prep or somethin'." Her eyebrows went up. "Though we might be able ta find a place around, or just torment Tannia."
Even in the dark, Greg's blush was visible. "Oh."
She laughed and patted his leg, glancing to her friend's house. "Come on, we can grab a movie or somethin'. Or start dancing in the street if you want to go dancing that badly."
"It's kinda late, don't wanna bother her..." He arched an eyebrow at her latter suggestion and, shaking his head, said, "Do you wanna just go to either of our places and snag a beer or something? We can save the dancing for another d-- Day. Day." Nice save.
"Only if we grab a flick first. And I'd recommend my place, as that's where my car is, as well as a young dog." Beer... did she have beer? She'd have beer. And popcorn. And probably a number of other foods if she dug around for them.
He could agree with that. Nodding, he put the truck into drive again and did a U-turn towards her house.
Hopefully he'd stop at the video shop before they got all the way there first. Pirate wasn't going to be likely to let her leave the house again easily.
He did pop into the nearest movie rental store. He had heard that much! After some choosing of a few select films, along with popcorn and some soda, he drove them out to her house. This seemed to be progress, he decided. Yes, he'd stayed at her house before. But that was under the pretenses of him badly needing a place to stay after a very near-death experience. This was something far less dire, and he interpreted her allowing of it as a good thing.
Once inside, he plopped on the couch. "Which one first?"
"Something with a lot of ass kickin' and explosions, if ya got it," she mentioned, grabbing popcorn and heading to the kitchen. Once it was in the microwave and started, she snooped around for drinks.
Explosions, eh? He quickly selected Transformers and popped in the disk, leaning back as he waited for her to join him.
"Are you crashing in the spare room tonight, or driving home?" Alana called from the kitchen, as the microwave was opened to allow the freshly made popcorn out and be dumped into a bowl.
Greg paused as he considered, then yelled back teasingly, "Depends. How much beer are you planning to hang on to, and how much are you planning to share?" Totally valid question!
There was quiet from the kitchen as Alana pondered the question. But she had some beer that she kept around mostly for Greg, and another brand she kept for herself. Grabbing two for him and one for herself, she walked into the living room with the three bottle and bowl of popcorn. "Your pup gonna be able ta survive the night without ya?"
"He's a big boy. He's got food and water out for him, he's house-trained, and he's got chew toys to keep him entertained." Not to mention a hole in the back of the house that he didn't know of. Greg reached up, taking a bottle from her with one hand and pressing PLAY on the remote with the other.
"Long as ya aren't worried 'bout the messes he might leave..." Settling herself onto the couch, she put his second beer within easy reach and the popcorn between them. As if on cue, Pirate decided to come into the room and sniffle about the food, looking for handouts. Or attention. Possibly both.
"Doggy doors. My favorite invention, right next to trucks and surfboards," he replied with a grin.
She shook her head. She wasn't even going to try and argue with it. A snap and point to the ground, and Pirate laid down at her feet, tail wagging hopefully before she offered him a few kernels of popcorn. "Long as he knows how ta use 'em. Guess that means you're crashing here tonight."
"If you don't mind," he quickly replied, making sure he wasn't stepping on toes.
She shrugged. "Why would I? Not like ya haven't crashed here before. And I ain't letting ya outta the house while you've got beer in your system." It was one of her firmer rules, and one he'd probably heard more then once.
He had, and agreed with it with a nod. "I don't like bein' a bother," he said, something she'd probably heard right back.
Rolling her eyes, Alana tossed a few of the kernels at him. "If I thought it'd be an issue, I wouldn't have let ya have a beer. Enjoy it Giant..." Hmm...wouldn't that be an interesting twist to the rumors... Reaching for her own drink, she let the idea roll around in her head. Naw, wouldn't make much of a difference.
How would they even know, anyway? Unless they were being stalked. But that thought never crossed Herakles' head. The movie was already starting, so he hunkered down into the couch -- well, as much as he could at his size -- with his arms out over the top. Mmm. Megan Fox.
If she caught him drooling? The teasing would never end. Alana settled into her seat as well, kicking off shoes to fold her legs underneath her with the popcorn bowl in her lap. Hopefully she'd be kind enough to hold her sarcastic comments until the end.
Him? Drool? Never! He did, however, grin like a maniac when the cars started making an appearance. "Gods, what I'd give to have a Camaro like that."
"You'd never show up for work. Though, I bet if you asked, we could get ya made into a valet, and you could drive someone else's cars around," she teased.
"But that'd put me in the same problem. You'd never see me again," he laughed, poking her in the side. "Why do you think Giggles doesn't let me in the backroom of the cafe anymore."
"And here it was cause I figured he realized where all his food went missin', into the bottomless pit." She swatted at the finger that poked her, putting the bowl in the way as a barricade.
He moved his hand around dramatically, poking her again. "Well, it may have been in part to that. He shouldn't just leave it laying out like that, is all I'm sayin'."
"It's in the kitchen for the hotel cafe! How would you think somethin' sittin' out is meant for ya ta just take?" Shifting the bowl, she sprawled across him to grab the remote and hit pause. If they were going to debate his eating methods, they didn't need to miss the flick.
The god shrugged apologetically. "There's a buffet sign!"
"Not in the backroom!" She rolled her eyes as she settled back into her seat.
"Details, details."
She swatted his arm. "Can we return to the movie now? Or do you want to keep tryin' ta defend bein' a food black hole?"
He laughed, feigning pain at her assault. "Okay, okay, back to the movie. I'll be quiet, ma'am."
"Good." Getting comfortable, Alana started the film once more.
Summary: It's the 'date' of Alana and Greg, that Alana said to keep less like a date and more like a simple hang out. They seem to manage it well enough.