For the past week, Mordecai Roberts had made it his mission to win Rosalie Ivers’s heart - for Atlantis, that is. Gaining her good opinion of him would take rather longer (although Anastasia’s existence in some future at least assured him of its possibility), so he’d first set out to simply gain time. The week-long trial period that the Atlantis leadership gave to new arrivals had left Mordecai on tenterhooks as he waited on Rosalie’s decision. Rather than leave the matter entirely to chance, he’d made a point of introducing her to as many of the sights and activities of Atlantis as could be fit between their schedules (Neither shirking his own duties nor trying to persuade her to abandon hers as assistant to Chief Magic Officer Keysanworth would help in reconciling Rosalie either to the island or to Mordecai, as he was well aware).
His own time in Atlantis had given Mordecai an opportunity which he hadn’t expected to have, to do good, to make amends on a cosmic level, if not an individual one, for the sins of the past. The Dright had possessed his soul, true. He’d followed orders, but there had been those times when he hadn’t, when he’d let his own thoughtlessness carry him into disaster far beyond what could be laid at the feet of others. There had been the times when he’d twisted his thoughts just enough to hide a disobedient spirit in literal compliance. If he’d done it on those few occasions, he could have done it on more. Mordecai knew exactly what he was guilty of, even if he played it off with lightness most of the time. Ultimately, Atlantis had given him a chance to learn what it meant to be his own man, owner of his own soul, away from the Dright, the Wraith, even from Gabriel and Christopher. Away from Rosalie.
Mordecai had been sure of very few things before that fateful trip to Eleven, but his love for Rosalie had been one of those few. He had known, even before Christopher had placed his soul in his hands, that he did not deserve her, although he couldn’t say that it didn’t sting that she knew it equally well. Her arrival (twice) had reminded him that however much he might have improved, he still had far to go, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try. If the slim chance of forgiveness that Ana represented didn’t occur in this world (There were infinite possibilities, and Mordecai was more aware of them than most people), he’d at least be able to look at his reflection with confidence.
Self-reflection, however, was mostly reserved for late nights and too much brandy. This afternoon, the last of the crucial week with only hours to go before the deadline, he’d ordered a lunch from Simp Hop to be delivered to a picnic spot just outside the base, overlooking the harbor. Supposedly, the meal would be delivered precisely at ten minutes after noon and no later. That gave him a rather limited time to make his way up from the training floors and catch Rosalie before she made a selection from the commissary. The selection on base was remarkable in its own right, but today might be his last opportunity to impress her enough for her to stay. Mordecai didn’t intend to leave it to chance.
He smiled broadly when he did see her, nodding distractedly to a few people as he made his way through the lunch crowd. “Rosalie. How would you like to try something new?”
Rosalie felt out of place as she entered the commissary. There were a number of pressed uniforms in her closet, and they fit well enough when she tried them on, but as functional as the work trousers were Rosalie felt under-dressed when she wore them. Thus, she continued to don her own self-made uniform, and was still dressing in her starch white shirt and serviceable grey skirt in order to do her duties for Mr Keysanworth. She acknowledged that she would likely have to adapt to the wardrobe if she were planning to stay, but thus far no one had complained about her attire and so she continued to dress in what she felt most comfortable. Atlantis seemed to be filled with very accommodating people.
If she were to have one complaint, Rosalie was not particularly fond of how meals were served in Atlantis, at least on the base. Certainly, there were plenty of options to choose from, and the food was satisfactory in both taste and quality, but the cold, informal cafeteria made her feel a bit lonely despite the crowd. She looked around the room curiously, returning a warm smile and light wave to Dr Jackson when her eyes met his, but she didn't move over to his table which was cluttered with more papers than place settings. Since their first meeting he had offered to be her lunch companion on more than one occasion, but he was the sort of fellow who liked to work through his meals, and Rosalie missed the conversations that accompanied dinners in the Castle.
With the growing crowd, Rosalie didn't notice Mordecai approaching until he was almost upon her. Without thinking, she returned his smile with one of her own, although she quickly tamped it down to a more neutral expression once he was standing in front of her. "Hello, Mordecai," she greeted him, giving another cursory glance around the crowd before answering his question. "Yes, I do believe something new would be much preferable."
“Excellent!” said Mordecai. If he noticed the way her expression changed when she saw who was addressing her, he didn't show it. “There is a pleasant spot for a luncheon just off the base with fewer crowds and a much better view.” He’d noticed her look around the room. With a glance of his own to the clock on his tablet, he offered Rosalie his arm. “I think we've just enough time to get there.”
Taking his offered arm, Rosalie allowed him to lead her to the designated location. As grateful as she was to be offered respite from the dining hall, she didn't comment as they walked, merely giving a tight lipped smile and a slightly suspicious glance his way a few times. When they reached the picnic spot she dropped his arm, her expression turning to one of pleasant surprise as she admired both the view of the water and the blanket spread on the ground in front of them.
"Why Mordecai," she commented, her voice light and admiring as she spoke, though she was still looking out at the view. "Do you dine like this every day? I think I would, if weather permitted."
Success so far. Mordecai very nearly beamed. “Not every day,” he said. “Although, I might be tempted. I’d miss some amusing moments in the commissary.” Of course, among those amusing moments was naked Cupid. “Then again, some might be better missed. It is a nice view, isn't it?”
He considered saying something more, but decided against interrupting. It was enough that she seemed to like it.
Rosalie nodded in agreement at the assessment, taking another beat to enjoy the horizon and the soft breeze before she finally turned her attention back to the man who was treating her to the lovely meal with a view. "I imagine I'll find a way to adapt to regular dining arrangements at some point, much as I prefer to take my meals in a more intimate setting."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how they could be misinterpreted by her companion. Her eyes lowered for the barest second in reaction, but she quickly continued speaking, meeting Mordecai's gaze once more as she added, "You were saying that they offered entertainment in the commissary?"
Mordecai knew what she meant, of course, but he wouldn’t be human if his smile did not widen at the words. She hadn't left time for him to respond to the slip of the tongue, but his eyes twinkled with amusement as he answered her question. “Not exactly, or rather not intentionally. All that magic running wild tends to result in odd pranks, if you will. There have been people able to converse only in song, for example. The commissary is simply one of the easiest places to witness the show.”
He looked around. “I was assured our meal would be here no later than-”
Something like a small cyclone interrupted him, throwing bits of grass and sand into the air. “Thirty seconds early!” declared a smug, young voice as it resolved into a teenage boy with blond hair and a broad grin. A bag dangled from each of Dash’s hands. From each one rose steam and a spicy aroma. “It’s Roberts, right, Simp Hop?” he asked, holding out the bags.
She didn't have a chance to remark on Atlantis' magical side-effects, but then Rosalie wasn't sure what she would have said if given the opportunity. She had been... Fortunate enough to not experience anything thus far that might deter her decision to stay in the city, and supposed that situations such as the one he described would have to be seen to be believed.
Reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, she gave a small smile of amusement to the new arrival. "Good Afternoon, Dash. I see you've found a way to keep busy." Intrigued by the aroma and the name of the restaurant, she glanced back at Mordecai curiously. "It seems you weren't joking when you suggested something new."
Dash grinned. “Hi, Rosalie! Yeah, I deliver for Simp Hop, Footstep, Snooze, Stone, pretty much everywhere except the bars, and-” The sound of a chime came from his pocket. “Got another one! Gotta go.” Exchanging the bags for payment, he disappeared as quickly as he’d come, back toward the city by the shortest way possible, straight across the harbor, dodging ships out on the water.
He was halfway across the harbor when Mordecai laughed in reaction. “That's one way to keep cool, although just watching him run makes me feel tired.” He opened one of the bags and began setting out food on the blanket as he replied to Rosalie's comment. “I like to experiment. It’s not quite traditional by our standards, but it’s very popular.”
Rosalie chuckled lightly when Dash disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, turning her attention back to the arrangement of food once the blur had become a small dot across the water. There were potent smells, of garlic and vinegar and something else that she couldn't quite place, and she eyed the dishes with growing curiosity as Mordecai arranged them.
"Experimentation seems to be a common theme around here," she observed, before moving to join Mordecai on the blanket. She arranged her skirt in a manner that would keep it from wrinkling, but didn’t take up so much space as to disturb the food. "Is there anything in particular I should try first?"
“Hmm.” Mordecai made a show of considering before pointing to a red and green dish. “I suggest the steamed eggplant, although I advise taking some rice with it. It’s delicious, but quite spicy. I ordered sampling of a variety of items, so if that isn't to your taste, there are other options.” Finishing his arrangements, he sat back with one knee bent in front of him, still talking to cover his nervousness.
“It’s quite a treat. You have no idea how often I’ve wished I could try some of the dishes I’ve seen in other worlds, but even with Christopher's help, I was never quite corporeal enough.” That was a delicate subject: his travels with Christopher. With all the horror of the circumstances, however, that friendship had been its shining salvation - the more so because it had somehow survived Mordecai's betrayal.
Mordecai cleared his throat. “Atlantis brings everything to us.” He wanted to believe Rosalie's friendship could be salvaged, as well. Surely, if she still hated him, she would not be sitting and talking with him like this. This was very nearly the stuff of his dreams: Rosalie, a beautiful afternoon, and no need for lies between them.
It would have been easy to meet his comments about adventures with Christopher with some derogatory remarks of her own, as it was still a bit of a sore subject for Rosalie. But instead, she restrained herself and focused on the food. It was obvious that Mordecai was putting forth some effort in the presentation, and she was willing to respect that.
She filled her plate with a little bit from all the dishes that were laid out between them, and tried the eggplant as was first suggested. Despite including the rice, it was a bit spicier than her palate was used to, and she blinked back a few tears as she adjusted to the heat. Hiding her mouth behind her hand, she asked, "I don't suppose you have anything cool to drink?"
The restraint was noticed and appreciated by Mordecai. He hadn’t necessarily meant to poke at the wound, but the comment had not been entirely a slip of the tongue, either. Perhaps it was habit, left over from the time when comfortable moments had been too dangerous to allow. Perhaps it was just that there had always been things he’d wanted to tell her and couldn't along with the ones he’d hoped she would never learn. He took the hint and filled his own plate. Even though he’d chosen a mixture of favorites, Mordecai spent less time eating than sneaking glances at Rosalie to see how she was enjoying her own food. At her request for something to drink, he pulled back a corner of the blanket and uncovered a basket narrow enough to hold one bottle and two glasses. “It keeps it cooler,” he explained aloud as he poured her a glass. “This isn't anything fancy. It’s just milk - better for muting the spice. The salad will help too. It’s designed for that.”
Rosalie took the milk with a small smile, wiping the corners of her eyes with one hand before taking a generous swallow. They settled into comfortable silence as they ate, and she ended up trying at least a small bite of each of the dishes that Mordecai had provided for them, although some of the more spicy dishes got less attention than others. In all, it was a very nice lunch. She was enjoying the view, the soft breeze, and most of the food. She was even enjoying the company, and almost told him so until she caught him glancing her way. Glancing back at the base, Rosalie felt the slight heat to her cheeks which she’d be sure to blame on the meal if asked. For the moment she kept her own questions to herself, preferring to quietly enjoy the attention. She figured there would be plenty of time to ask them later.