- (sassdoesnthelp) wrote in utr_logs, @ 2010-01-19 18:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | nathan ford |
Who: Nathan Ford, ditsy blonde NPC. (Narrative. Open, if someone wants to be at the restaurant, but it isn't necessary!)
What: Read it and see
Where/When: Some hoity toity restaurant/Tonight
Warnings: Possibly language. Possibly upsetting to the Leverage Team
Nathan Ford was an actor, and his act was so precise he fooled everyone, even himself. He pretended he was happy, and everything was fine. He had little reason to complain, that much was true. His son was alive, the thieves that comprised his modern day Robin Hood gang were all thriving, both personally and professionally from what he could tell. He'd been sober for close to 11 months, now.
He pretended to be comfortable in his own skin. He went out to eat at fancy restaurants by himself. The awkward stares of the other patrons didn't really bother him. One truth was that Nate didn't care, had never cared, what other people thought of him. Maybe that made him an anomaly. Maybe it made him a self centered bastard. Nate had never been terribly concerned with labels.
He never really considered himself attractive. Sure, his wife had told him he was sexy when they were married. She'd changed her tune, after the marriage fell apart. He never really cared about that kind of thing. He wore his hair long because it curled out and he didn't like the tight waves when he clipped it short. He dressed casually, and often kept his shirt untucked. He liked comfort, more than style.
"Care to buy me a drink?" The voice, silky and smooth as dripping honey startled him out of his thoughts. He blinked, and the restaurant came back in to focus. White clothes draped over the tables, fine china serving dishes. Wine glasses, whiskey glasses, drafts in glasses shaped for beer.
He looked up, to a barely dressed blonde leaning just so, so he'd get a good view. He appreciated the sight, and he wanted to think he wasn't interested, but he was a man, after all, and some responses couldn't be stopped. He sighed. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I'll make it worth your while." She smiled.
He shook his head, but it was obvious she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "What are you drinking?"
"Long Island Ice Tea," she answered. She called a waitress over, and put in the order. Long Island for her, whiskey for him. He started to say he was fine with the coke he was drinking, but the words just wouldn't come.
Eleven months, and all it took was a busty blonde about to fall out of her top. He'd had a rough day. A long night, weird dreams. He hadn't done that in his sleep since he was a teenager. And the worst of it was, the girl he dreamed about was one of Sam's friends.
Yeah. Coke wasn't really doing it for him, after all. He smiled his tanks, when the waitress brought the drinks. He studied the whiskey in hand a long moment, before surrendering to the call. His eyes closed as it went down, and because his eyes were closed, he didn't see the blonde shift toward him.
He jerked to awareness with a start, when her lips touched his about the same moment her bottom hit his lap. While unexpected, he recovered from the shock quickly, and an arm went around her waist. Her hands went to his shoulders, and she shifted, moving to straddle him. He broke the kiss, tilted his head, and took another sip of the whiskey.