Just be cool, man. Be cool. Who: Amy Pond and John Watson When: June 21 Where: Starting at Amy’s place, then out What: Drinking Cuba Libres in a movie theater Rating/Warnings: Low/None Status: Complete (to be continued)
After her conversation with James Wilson, MD, Amy knew that she really had to talk to John about... well... all of it. She didn’t want to, because she still wasn’t completely convinced. What if Wilson was just playing a match-maker? What if he was pulling a prank? In any case, Amy wanted to talk to him. Or, at the very least, drop some hints? Maybe if she did that, then the ball would be in John’s side of the court, and he could... y’know... do the thing.
Whatever that thing was.
So she texted him and asked him to come over, then bought some tickets to a movie online, slipped a flask into the inside pocket of her jacket, and sat on the porch waiting for him to show up.
Show up he did -- right around 6:30. He’d just gotten off of work, and so instead of his usual casual button downs and jeans, Watson was a bit gussied up in dress slacks, white t-shirt and tie. You know, Doctor’s attire. “Hullo,” he greeted, strolling up her little walk in order to greet her. It was still pretty bright out for this time of evening, and he couldn’t help but smile a little at the way the sun made her hair nearly glow orange. “Been waiting long?”
“All day, really.” Amy said, standing up from her spot on the porch. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked rather dashing in his doctor garb, and she was trying to push the memory of her conversation with Wilson out of her mind. “All my life, even! Here, I bought tickets to the seven fifteen show. We can walk there from here.”
"That's a long time to be waiting for a kids' film," John smiled and loosened his tie a little. It was dark blue and did wonders for his eyes, but that didn't really mean he liked wearing it. "Shall we be off, then?"
“Hey, you didn’t ask how long I’d been waiting for the movie,” Amy corrected him playfully. She liked the tie. It was like a leash. So much so, she went forward and gave it a gentle (again)playful tug. “Let’s be off.” It was a fifteen minute walk, give or take, to the downtown section of their particular town area. There were some shops, some restaurants, and a movie theater down there. “Are you hungry? We could grab a snack first.”
And had he known it would give her a leash idea, John probably would have worn one around her sooner. He shook his head with a half smile, stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled along next to her. Really, this was a nice area to live in, to be so close to so much in walking distance.
“I could eat,” he agreed. “So if it wasn’t the movie you were waiting on, what was it?”
Yes, it was definitely a great place to live. Amy absolutely lucked out with Zuko offering up his place. He was sitting on a gold mine and was letting her use it for a steal.
Amy blushed deeply. She ignored the question for a moment. “What sort of food are you in the mood for? There’s a place that makes those... Yeeeros. Jiros.” How on Earth do you pronounce ‘Gyro’? “If you like Greek food, that is.” She added, shoving her hands into her pockets now they were well on their way.
“Gryos?” John seemed amused as anything at the fact that she couldn’t pronounce it. Then again, it was a bit an odd word. “You know? I nearly fancy a curry. But they just don’t make it the same here.” He shrugged, glanced over at her and rose his eyebrows up just so. “Pizza?”
“They sell it by the slice over there.” Amy said, pointing. She couldn’t cook, so she knew a lot of these places. Walking down here and grabbing some food made for a nice hour or so. Especially if she took the stroll leisurely or wandered to the park to eat. “I think they have pasta there, too. Garlic bread. That sort of thing.” She’d sort of been craving pasta since visiting Wilson. He was eating pasta for lunch.
Though, lots of carbs and calories in pasta. Bad for a Model on a Diet.
“We can go there. If they make it quick we could probably get pasta before it’s time for the movie.” John was well aware that she worked out enough not to need to worry about eating some spaghetti now and again. “Either way, not a big deal.” He’d actually remembered to eat something for lunch that wasn’t coffee today, which was a decent improvement to his usual brand of forgetfulness during the work day.
“They might have some under a heat lamp.” Amy offered. That would be even faster than if they had to make it for her on the spot. She took hold of his tie again and tugged him in the direction of the crosswalk, giving him a grin over her shoulder.
John snorted at that, and then took a quick half step in order to be caught up with her. “It’s as if you’ve never seen a tie before,” he said, sounding all too fond. It was a thing, a thing that he did. He opened the door for her once they’d made it to the restaurant.
"I'm not used to you wearing them. It's fun." Amy was smirking softly, then gave a little "thank you" as she stepped through the doorway into the restaurant. "If you don't want me to drag you around by the tie, then maybe you shouldn't wear them." Another smirk.
"I can't help that I'm terribly professional," he said, teasingly straightening his tie and looking a bit haughty about it. "But I'll remember that from now on. No ties. Just show up to Amy's a complete mess, or else she'll fiddle."
“Well, only wear ties when you want me to tug you around by your neck,” Amy said, as if that was the most logical solution to the problem anyone could ever think of. She stepped up to order the pasta, pointing to the one with the pesto sauce and the cheese. Then stepped over to fill up her cup with water, and sit down at a nearby table so John could order and pay for both of them. (Hey, she’d paid for the movie tickets already. That way it’d be fair?) Pasta... and water. Weird meal.
Not if you factored in the fact that they’d probably have a soda in the theatre. John opted for nothing to drink at all, as well as a slice of pizza. He was sure he’d be able to steal some of Amy’s pasta if he felt so inclined.
He paid without any real thought on the matter, and therefore with no complaints, and then turned to sit down at the table across from her. “This movie’s a sequel isn’t it? Never saw the last one. Think it’ll matter?”
“Probably not. And it’s a prequel. I think it’s gonna be really cute. A kid’s movie. I saw the first one. Pixar makes amazing films.” She sipped from her water glass, then shifted a bit in her seat. The bottle in her jacket made a little clunk sound against the table, but Amy’s knee brushed against John’s underneath it so she barely noticed the sound.
And neither had he, because she was practically playing at knee flirting with him. John cleared his throat, sat up a little straighter and gave her a lopsided sort of smile. “Well. I trust you, I suppose.” He had no real opinion of kid movies, anyway. But if she wanted to see it, he’d see it and not say anything in opposition.
“You suppose?” Amy asked, the grin on her lips spreading. Her hair fell down around her jaw, framing her face. “What does that mean, you suppose? Have I ever steered you wrong?”
John grinned back, raising his eyebrows up in defense. She looked pretty like that -- hair strangely perfect in that wherever it lays sort of way, and with a bright grin. Then again, he always thought she looked pretty. “You haven’t,” he reassured. “I suppose.”
Amy laughed. “You and your supposing. It’s a bit of a thing with you, did you know that?” She sat up a little when the waitress brought their food out to the table, and her knee bumped into his again. Small table? Sure. Small table. Let’s go with that. She lifted her fork to dig in.
“I have things,” John agreed, nodding his thanks to the waitress before digging in to his pizza as well. “Things that I do and I am known for. It’s nice to be dependable in some areas of life, after all.” He really could have added a suppose on to that sentence, but wisely chose not to over do it.
"I love your things," Amy said, giving him a grin that was more playful than flirtatious. Though, that was a big part of it. She had another bite of pasta, and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "I went to see Doctor Wilson the other day," she said after swallowing.
And he loved that she loved his things. That seemed fair, didn’t it? Watson gave a short pause, pizza hovering near his mouth, and then blinked and gave a half smile before taking an actual bite. “Did you? How’d that go?”
“It was fine. He’s very charming, your friend Doctor Wilson.” Amy said, giving him a smile. She lifted her water cup for a sip, going slightly pink. “He had some really helpful advice, from someone who’s been there.” Beat. “He had some nice things to say about you, too.”
Doctor Wilson was a very charming man - probably one of the reasons he seemed to be so well liked by everyone. But that wasn’t what they were really talking about here. Watson rose his eyebrows up and gave a half smile before scratching the back of his neck in near embarrassment. “Did he?”
Amy swallowed, then found she had trouble meeting his eyes as she said the next bit. “He said you fancied someone. Some red head he didn’t know.” Amy was just a little terrified of this conversation. As much as she was glad it was all coming out now.
Well, damn Wilson, just throw it all out there, why don’t you. John had the grace to go a little pink of over it. “I do.” he said, “She is.” because clearly he was just really interested in two word sentences.
Clearly. Considering only one of the last five sentences he said had more than two words in it. Amy was starting to wonder if she was … making him mad, or something. Mad as in, crazy. Not mad as in angry. But that was also a concern. She finally lifted her eyes to look at him, though it was still terrifying and a little awkward to do so.
“He said you didn’t know if she... felt the same way. And I told him she’d be an idiot not to.” Not her exact words. She was paraphrasing a bit.
He wasn’t mad by any definition of the word. In fact, he was more hedging than anything. It wasn’t the best plan, but it had seemed like the only one he could have come up with at the moment. But, with that admission on Amy’s part, he really was feeling a bit better about this. Good enough to be entirely unsubtle. “We are all aware we’re talking about you, aren’t we?”
Amy let out a breath of air she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding. “I think I caught on during the chat with Wilson, yeah.” She said, grinning sheepishly. “...I am the redhead, aren’t I?”
“I don’t think I know any others,” John said, with a half laugh. This was going really -- well. He thought. He was pretty sure. Yes.
“You’re the redhead,” he assured. “The redhead I fancy.” He had been wanting to tell her that for a very, very long time. Nearly since the first time they’d met in that supermarket when she’d picked out some proper tea for him.
“Well, I suppose now that cat’s out of the bag.” She couldn’t help but feel relieved. And excited. And a little guilty. But mostly excited. Also, a little nervous, surprisingly. “...well, I’m definitely not an idiot. I think.” Because she’d be an idiot not to return the feelings?
Well, not an idiot. But everyone might worry about her general life choices. John was, after all, a fairly keen sort.
“You’re not an idiot,” he assured, wiping his hands on a napkin. After all, he wouldn’t like her if she was stupid. Right? Right. And then he smiled, nearly crooked, and shrugged. “That --yeah. It’s out of the bag.” The real question was what to do about it now.
“Soooo. Now what?” Amy asked. She wasn’t sure what the next step was. They had feelings for each other. Neither was attached to anyone else (well, not really). That made this... what? The start of something? Was this a date? Like, a proper date? Wasn’t he supposed to ask her out on a date, for real? “I have no idea what I’m doing here, in case it isn’t obvious,” she added, breaking into a smirk.
Was this a date? Their first official one, despite water parks and walks on the beach and Disney? Road trips? Or had they just been ‘accidentally’ courting each other for much longer? It seemed wrong to bring that up though, considering the circumstances.
“Don’t worry. I’m old, remember? That means I know what I’m doing.” Probably a lie. Then again, he wasn’t really a stranger to dating, so maybe not. “Now we go see that movie, or else we’re going to be late. And then we talk about it properly.”
“All right.” Amy was amused and relieved. Interesting combination. She tossed her trash into the rubbish bin on the way out of the restaurant, her hand searching for his as they walked. “I’ve got something for the movie,” she said, leading the way down a couple of doors to the theater. “Just be cool, man. Be cool.” She added, getting out the print-at-home tickets from her pocket.
“Be cool?” John repeated in question. That was hard to do right now all on it’s own -- although he was trying his hardest -- because his interest in the movie had waned completely. He just wanted to take Amy somewhere and kiss her until their lips hurt. But he was a patient man. He could wait. He’d been waiting, after all.
“Why do I need to be cool?” He asked, again, once they’d handed their tickets over to the doorman and gotten into the theatre proper. “What’d you bring?”
Amy’s eyes lit up in a mischievous way, the grin that flashed across her features was conspiratory at best, and she moved over to fill up a cup with Cola. She added ice first, then filled the absolutely-too-large-for-healthy-human-consumption-sized cup up about two thirds of the way, then popped a lid on and took it over to pay for it. “Let’s just get some good seats way in the back of the auditorium.”
“Okay,” John just seemed mildly perplexed. Then gave a slight pause. “Do you want to fill that more? Or do you just like the idea of making me leave half-way through for a refill?”
“I’ve got a small bladder.” She gave the attendant guy some cash for the soda, then tugged John the rest of the way into the theater. On the way she gave him her ‘Didn’t I say ‘be cool’?’ eyes. (They were round. And slightly accusatory. But still playful, because that’s how she rolls.)
Once inside the auditorium, with the pre-movie show stuff coming to a close, Amy took the stairs up to the back and climbed right into the middle of the seats, then plopped down and put the drink in the cupholder. Here was the mischievous part. She pulled the flask out of her pocket and rum’d up the Coke.
Hey, he was being cool. No one had told him that being cool involved not being curious. That wasn’t even fair.
And so, happily seated in the far back row, John couldn’t help but let out a hushed laugh at her rum and coke antics. “Oh, goodness,” he said, sounding very British and hushed. “I’ve come to a movie with a right criminal. You’ve made me an accessory.”
“Don’t give me that. You love it.” Amy said, grinning as she scolded him. Well, without really scolding him. She dumped the entire contents of the flask into the coke, then put the top back on and stirred it with the straw. “I think our admission in the pizza place calls for a little celebration, anyway.”
She lifted the cup for a sip, which was more like a gulp, and then a cough. It was fairly strong.
He’d remember that: Amy Pond - probably wouldn’t mind flowers and chocolates, but seemed to just prefer homemade rum and cokes in the back of a movie theatre. She wasn’t wrong: he loved it.
“You’re right,” he agreed as he took the cup and took a drink of his own -- immediately finding what seemed to be a pocket of rum and making a face. He stirred it more with the straw, but half giggled anyway. “Good call.”
“As much as I love Pixar films, they’re always better with a little...” Amy almost used the word ‘lubrication,’ then thought better of it. “Alcohol.” She gave him a bright grin, leaning over to sip from the straw with the cup still sitting between them in the arm rest. “Besides, isn’t it fun to be a bit naughty?”
John snickered a little at that. “It is, I suppose.” There was that suppose again. “It’s a bit like skipping school for the first time.” Mostly, he was being silly. But it was like a low key sort of thrill.
Amy was already giggling. Oh, she was going to be drunk. And she didn’t care. “I can’t imagine you skipping school,” she said, giving him a grin. The lights were dimming and the previews coming on. Amy’s hand found his in the darkness and took hold of it.
“I really don’t remember if I did or not,” John murmured, squeezing her hand in the darkness. “It was so long ago, you know.” He did remember, actually, but it was far more fun to say he didn’t.
“Mmm. Back when ice covered the Earth.” Amy teased. Then she fell silent as the previews began to roll.