Who: Tink and Neal When: The day after he brought his clunker into the shop Where: Cafe What: Meeting for Coffee Rating/Warnings: Low/None Status: Complete!
This was a date. Right. A date. Potentially? Neal would just call it one, for the sake of not confusing himself. He’d gone the next day to pick up his car from Tink’s shop (though he liked Isabel, he’d probably also call her Izzy at one point, it seemed to make sense in his head just like Tink did, which was weird, did he ever know a Tink before...?) and true to her word, she’d worked wonders with it. Babycakes was running smoothly, all nice and pretty and purring at him like she was so proud of the work she hadn’t done. Mostly she just had the equivalent of a full-body massage and internal cleansing or whatever. There was even a new air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror!
He refused to read into that.
But it was still nice to have the scent of ocean breeze there.
Now, she was due off work soon and he’d gone to the designated coffee shop to meet her. Long-sleeved t-shirt that was pushed up to the elbows and dark denim jeans, nothing fancy. He’d save the suit and tie for the five-star establishments. This was just a casual thing.
Dating in general he was kind of rusty at, since his last relationship ended so badly, but there was really no pressure here. He’d simply go with the flow. And wait patiently at a table, with his coffee. Just black coffee. The abundance of drinks, like what the fuck was a caramel macchiato, was just confusing and weird, and he also disliked Starbucks. It tasted and looked like piss, but this was a local place so that was good. No corporate chain to drink shitty watered down coffee from. But his first was almost done, and he’d order another when Tink arrived - drinks for the both of them, it was the least he could do.
Tink brought spare clothes with her to work. Though she had a lot of stuff to do, she'd spent a good deal of the day trying her best to stay clean. It was distracting. But exciting.
After work, she changed into her jean shorts and t-shirt. It was still hot, and she'd been in the garage all day without AC. It was a relief to change and toss her hair. So she ran a couple minutes late to the coffee date with Neal.
Date. Was this a date? Maybe? She wasn't sure. Hopefully she could ask Faye later. She stepped into the cafe and looked around for him.
He spotted her right away, as it was kind of difficult to miss the effervescent blonde. Neal was up, and he went over toward Tink immediately, there and ready to greet her with an infectious grin. “Hey,” he placed a hand on the small of her back, gently, just so they could head up to the counter. “This time I didn’t have to keep an eye out for the coveralls. You look nice.” Even if it was just shorts and a t-shirts, because it was fucking hot in the middle of a California summer, but still. The compliment was genuine.
“Whatever you’d like,” he added, referring to the coffee selections. “I usually just go with black but some people actually want more stuff in their road tar.” If you couldn’t pave roads with it, Neal just didn’t know what to do with it. All that extra whipped cream and stuff.
A smile on Tink’s face brightened at the sight of him. She was really glad she’d done a good job with his car, because the way he was grinning at her? She liked it. And she was convinced that part of the reason he wanted to meet for coffee was… well, the car. She’d saved his baby. And it’d been fun for her more than anything else. She’d even done it for fairly cheap.
“Hey,” she responded. Then he was close. Really close. His hand came to the small of her back to guide her up to the register, and suddenly all Tink could hear was her pulse gushing in her ears. She was sure her cheeks were going bright red, and her mind was giddy with aaaaaaaah he’s touching me he’s touching me he’s touching me. It was so distracting she missed his compliment. The shorts were down to her knees, but hugged her body in a flattering way. And the shirt was one of those nice ones--with a v-neck? Not anything screen printed or baggy.
“What?” She said, more focused on the hand on her back than whatever it was he was saying. Hopefully her pulse would calm down so she could actually hear his voice this time.
Being that there wasn’t much of a line at the counter, they were up to bat next. Neal shifted to pull his wallet from his pocket, glancing at the barista with a, “Just another large coffee for me, no cream or sugar - “ If he wanted any, he’d put it in, but he usually opted not to, “...and whatever she wants?”
He looked back at Tink, and...was she nervous? She actually seemed kind of nervous. It was cute, since he couldn’t remember the last time a date felt anxiety over him. The first time he’d run into his ex-girlfriend, it was a literal run-in; rather, she bumped into him and spilled her chai tea all over the front of his coat. But he hoped to set Tink’s mind at ease now. “I meant to tell you, really great job on the car. Did you have a lot of training with that or does it just come naturally?”
When his hand moved away from her back, Tink was able to think a little bit more clearly. This was definitely outside of her comfort zone. Dating. Oh, how her brothers would tease her if they could see her like this. She tucked stray hairs behind her ears and cleared her throat. “Iced coffee, please. With vanilla and room for cream.”
Then she turned to watch his hands with the wallet. He had really nice hands, she thought. They looked strong and warm. Her eyes flicked up to his face when he asked another question, but this time she heard it. “...Oh, well, you’re welcome.” A smile came now. A gentle, shy one. “I’ve always been good with machines, but I went through some training, too. Trade school.”
Their drinks came out pretty quick, and Neal handed Tink her iced coffee. Then he grabbed some napkins and slung his chin toward where he’d been waiting, at a table by the window. Of course he pulled her chair out for her before she sat, that was just good manners. Neal prided himself on those, even if he had essentially been raised by barnyard animals before being forced to raise himself. “That’s cool. I mean, it’s important to love what you do,” he said as he took his own seat.
“I wish I could have afforded more school but it’s not been in the cards quite yet.” A shrug, sliding the coffee mug toward him so he could wrap large hands around it, and sort of absorb the heat. Even if it was a steamy summer day, that was always a requirement. “Someday, though.” But hopefully soon, or else he’d have to start making jokes about being too old for frat parties - oh wait, he was already too old for frat parties. It was just that he hadn’t been settled in one spot long enough to really form roots - to have a stable career, or go to night classes, or anything besides survival. He thought he’d been able to finally find his home, with his ex, but that quickly evaporated like most of the good things did.
But that aside, he encouraged Tink, “So tell me more about yourself. Brothers and pyrex and trade school I got. What else?” Another eye-crinkling grin over the edge of his mug and he added, “No pressure.”
And Tink did love what she did. It was more than just a job, it was her life. Her passion. The drive to get up every morning and finally force herself to sleep at night. It was her every waking minute. Machines, inventing, solving problems, tinkering. She was a tinker, through and through. The word reminded her of those strange dreams, but she pushed that thought aside. She definitely didn’t want to scare him away on a first date.
First Date. God, that was amazing. A little grin crossed her features as she slipped into her chair. The iced coffee was perfect. Just sweet enough, just creamy enough. She sipped as he spoke about going back to school and nodded. He still had time. He wasn’t that old. And Tink was of the opinion that one was never too old to better oneself.
She cleared her throat. “Spotlight’s on me, then?” A nervous laugh. “Um… I like inventing things?” She wasn’t all that deep, really. There wasn’t a whole lot to say. “I work with cars at work, then I go home and… play with machines, I guess. God, I sound really boring, don’t I?”
“For now, just for now,” Neal promised around a rumble of a chuckle, sipping his coffee. “Then you can turn the spotlight on me.” It was just that he didn’t think he was very interesting either, unless one was fascinated by those shady skills that people weren’t supposed to know, but yet Neal was an expert on anyway - picking locks, hotwiring cars, breaking and entering. The usuals. He also didn’t talk about all that too much, for obvious reasons, but he’d come up with something that was first-date appropriate.
When Tink asked if she sounded boring, he shook his head. “Nah. Though now I’m kinda curious about what you’ve got there. Maybe time machines. Or you’re about to stumble upon something that will revolutionize the world.” She could be hiding a Delorean in her living room. You just never knew.
Remembering even more of his manners, he asked, “You want anything else, by the way? A scone or...something?” There looked to be an ample selection of baked goods. Sometimes people liked a little dessert with their coffee, not that he blamed them. Life was short, eat dessert first!
“Who told you about my time machine?” Tink asked, then shifted her eyes left to right. “--I mean, there’s no time machine. Who said anything about a time machine?” A little smirk threatened the corner of her lips. Then she sipped again to try and hide it. “...I created this pretty awesome car painting machine for the garage. It can paint a whole car in a matter of minutes.”
When he asked about the food, she turned to glance up at the counter, then brought her eyes back to him. “Nah, I’m okay. Don’t want to ruin dinner later, right? Unless you want something.”
If she was good, he was good. Neal would regretfully pass on the sugar this time. Just with another glance at the display. Woe! “Maybe I’ll ruin dinner later,” he quipped, though dinner for him - so far - looked to be delivery from the Thai restaurant that knew him by name at this point. Hadn’t even taken him that long either, it was impressive. His apartment would forever give off the scent of lemongrass and cilantro when you walked inside.
“Wait, so you made a machine that can paint a whole car? In minutes?” Hold the phone, that was pretty fucking amazing. “You should totally try and get that patented,” he said. “You know people make millions of dollars for inventing the weirdest shit like a snuggie, it’s basically a backward robe, but what you made? That’s actually useful.”
Tink gave a laugh, going very pink. One thing about Tinkerbell was that when she blushed she blushed. When it was anger, her face went red. Fire engine red. When it was flattery or shyness, she went pink. Very pink. Barbie pink, almost. “I did. It’s pretty amazing. I used a rake and some tubes and… you really think so? I think… well, maybe I should look into getting a patent. I’ve never done it before.”
And then she turned her eyes shyly to the table. “Yeah… I have like, three snuggies at home. Though, I’ve made some… improvements… on the design.”
Pink roses blooming there in the apples of her cheeks, definitely cute. Neal’s smile was so bright it probably could have lit up the sky at night, as he sipped his coffee, so the mug hid it a little - but not entirely. He was just really damn amused, because that took some skill, to make improvements on a snuggie. “It looked like a piece of cheap fabric with sleeves, definitely needed some alterations,” he laughed. “So I commend you for that.”
Though he probably couldn’t ask to see her snuggie, as that would probably be too forward, wouldn’t it? Baby steps.
“But you should totally go for the patent though. Or try to sell the design somewhere, you know? It could take off. And then I’ll say I knew you way back when.” As for him, he hadn’t invented anything interesting lately. Did he have anything to share that was just as awesome? “Let’s see...” he hummed. “Well, I’m originally from Detroit, not much inventing going on there. I traveled a lot though, after my stepdad intervened. Became really good at poker. And we went fishing a lot.” Bodies of water, especially swampy ones - good for hiding things, as he’d learned.
If he’d asked, she wouldn’t have thought much of it. She’d have shown him her snuggie. For sure. Though, it was probably good that he didn’t. Baby steps, and all. Tink wasn’t really thinking along those lines. He had her thinking about patents and lawyers and all of that stuff. It was a relief to think about that for a moment, and not how the bright smile on his face made her heart skip a beat.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Detroit!” Tink blurted out. She almost lifted a hand to clap over her mouth at it. “Sorry. I just… the birth place of so many cars!”
He had to admit, not many people were excited about Detroit. Why would they be? It was grey and depressing, sooty and reeking of diesel, desperation, regret, and a stark sense of nothingness. Unemployment statistics were astronomical, and because of that people resorted to any means necessary to survive - hence why the crime rates were also off the charts. His birthplace wasn’t exactly somewhere Neal wished to return to, so to hear someone legitimately wanting to visit? Odd.
“I guess that’s true,” he allowed, charmed by Tink’s enthusiasm over a place rife with urban decay. “They do the North American International Auto Show ever year too. You’d love it, I bet. Though summer’s usually the best time to go, because of the car cruises. It’s actually a fun time for the city.” And because it wasn’t snowing a ton either. “Lots of good bakeries too, surprisingly.”
Speaking of. Pushing his chair back, he made sure to tell her, “Be right back,” then went up to the counter. Just to get something for her to bring home. When he returned he had a cupcake for her - chocolate lover’s, triple chocolate death bomb, or whatever the fun thing was to call it. “For after dinner,” Neal explained. “Maybe after I spruce up on my cooking skills a bit I can do the whole meal for you.” Dream big, Cassidy. But it’d be the best fucking grilled cheese ever.
“Maybe some day.” Tink said, wistfully. Then he pushed his chair out, and her eyes went a little wide with confusion. She wondered for a moment if she’d done or said the wrong thing, but he was just going to the counter. Tink leaned back a bit in her chair and chewed on the top of her straw, almost nervously. When he came back she broke into a warm smile. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, but accepted the cupcake. Chocolate was absolutely her favorite. “...really? You want to cook for me?”
It occurred to him that it might be possible Tink was allergic to chocolate and wouldn’t that be awkward? But Neal had hedged a safe bet, and it looked like it paid off. “Sure, yeah, it’d be fun,” he said about cooking. “I’m trying to get better at it. I mean, I’m not going on Top Chef anytime soon but I’m sure I could whip up something.” Besides chili. It got a person hot, and not in the sexy date way. In the ‘I need to squelch the fire on my tongue’ kind of way.
“If you want to, of course.” But he liked talking to her, she was bubbly and very real, didn’t seem to be into playing games. That was the last thing Neal needed right now.
“Yeah, no, that’d be great.” Tink said, giving him a bright smile. “I can’t cook anything. I modified my toaster to see if it could be done, and now it leaves imprints of Kermit’s face on all my toast. Which is cool, yeah, but not all that impressive when I’m trying to like, cook for other people. Scrambled eggs and Kermit’s-face-toast is pretty much what I eat when I’m home.” Okay, now she was babbling. It was good-natured babbling, with a smile on her face, but it was still a string of words that she couldn’t seem to stop. So she finally shoved her straw in her mouth again and took another gulp.
“Kermit’s face? Holy shit, that’s awesome,” he laughed. “You could probably make a killing with that too.” Because really, it was safe to say that Neal never had toast with any imprints on the bread, let alone something green and froggy. That sounded like something far too much fun for someone who grew up way too fast.
Hm, now he’d have to come up with dinner ideas. Ones that didn’t involve scrambled eggs, because that was about the extent of his culinary breakfast ambitions too. And cereal, but that didn’t count, because even a five-year-old could make his own damn bowl of cereal. “Well, hey. Here’s to...muppet faces on toast?”
He toasted her with his coffee mug, touching it to hers.
It wasn’t like Tink was going to suggest that she could make him breakfast sometime. Because that would involve either getting up extra early and meeting for breakfast, or… waking up together. And Tink just didn’t have it in her to be thinking those kinds of thoughts. She lifted her iced coffee and smiled as she tapped it against his mug. “Here’s to muppet faces on toast.” She said, then gulped again. Her cup was nearly empty now, the dregs of the iced coffee and cream getting diluted by the melting ice.
“You should have my phone number.” She said, suddenly. “Just in case.” ...in case of what? She wasn’t sure. But she dug the thing out of her pocket and unlocked the screen so they could exchange information.
Right, numbers! Neal would have thought of that, if he wasn’t so busy being in awe of Kermit faces and machines that could do a full-body paint job in like two minutes. Hey, could you blame him? “Just in case...and so you can let me know when you want to come by for dinner,” he added helpfully, because that seemed like as good of a reason of any. He took her phone and plugged in his number, then slid his across the table so Tink could put hers in there too.
“This was definitely fun though. Thanks for meeting me.”
Tink flushed again. It felt like every time the color drained from her cheeks, he was putting it back there again. She punched her own numbers into his phone, and her name. Her real name. Not just Tink. It felt weird to do, but also kinda good. Like she was letting him in on a secret. Then she slid his phone back across to him. “...well, if it’s going to be a proper date, shouldn’t it be on a Friday or Saturday night?” She asked, and then gave him a hopeful smile.
“I should be thanking you. I’ll be thinking of you tonight while I eat my dessert,” she added, lifting the cupcake box.
Yep, that was definitely Isabel there in his phone. Neal felt flattered, for some reason. “Definitely, Friday or Saturday works great. I can do either,” he said, not because he was a super loser with no life but just because he was looking forward to it. Now he really had to up the ante when it came to cooking, maybe because a pro chef in a matter of days. Ha, right. Anyone who could read could follow a recipe, he’d just try to keep that in mind, even if he didn’t know what constituted a ‘pinch,’ a ‘dabble,’ or a ‘drizzle.’ Fuck.
“I’ll be thinking of you when I get home safe in my car that stopped making questionable noises,” he quipped. Probably after that too, but whatever. “Enjoy the cupcake though.”
Or, they could order pizza. There was nothing wrong with pizza. Actually, Pizza was one of Tink’s favorites. Pizza and falafel. But that was neither here nor there. “Saturday, then? If you think you’ll have spruced up your cooking skills enough by then?” She said, breaking into a small grin. Was this flirting? Was Tink actually flirting? Maybe? Kinda? She was unsure of herself, on uneven footing.
The thought that he would be thinking of her made her go a deeper shade of pink. It hadn’t had time to leave her cheeks yet before blossoming full force again. “I will.”
“Saturday...maybe 7 or so? Whenever’s good for you.” They were both about to head back, probably, so the gentlemanly thing to do was to escort the lady to her vehicle safe and sound. Manners, Neal Cassidy had them. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered, once he’d finished off the bottom of his coffee cup - the dregs down there, ah, bitter and acidic. So refreshing.
“Seven is good. Seven on Saturday. Should we meet somewhere?” She asked, climbing up out of her chair. “Or… I’ll just text you my address.” She said, and tossed her empty coffee cup into a trash can nearby.
“Oh. Right. Car. I don’t… uh… have a car.” She said, and they moved out of the cafe into the parking lot. Tink’s motorcycle was parked right out front. It was obviously modified, but still street legal.
“I can text you mine, if you want to come over. I live in Santa Ana, just in an apartment with a crappy view,” he chuckled, but then Neal was suddenly gobsmacked by the sight of the motorcycle. Holy fuck! This was hers? As in Tink’s, also known as Isabel, who was quite possibly the most perfect woman on Earth?
Like a moth to a flame, he was there. Checking out the sweet ride, which basically made his piece of shit car an inferior junkyard showroom piece in comparison. Then again, Tink had already seen his car and still wanted to date him. That was a positive thing. “This is incredible,” he said, still gaping.
Then he pulled back, a good-natured laugh at this own expense. “Okay, right, I’ll rein in the drooling. Saturday at seven. Some Saturday.”
"Okay. If you're cooking for me, that makes more sense." Tink said, nodding and smiling. She moved over to the bike and cleared her throat. "This is my baby. I've been working on her for ages now. Replacing all the parts and making improvements. I bought her used and practically in pieces."
She beamed when he mentioned drooling, then gave him a nod. "Saturday at Seven. Text me your address." She reached over and took hold of her helmet. "Thanks for the cupcake," she added, stowing it away. "See you Saturday."
Yeah, Neal would just be here, marveling at this scene which was almost surreal. A coffee date with a beautiful woman who also invented things that made the mind boggle and built her own motorcycle from what was basically scratch. And another date that he would pull out all the stop for to make amazing, even if it was just dinner in his crappy hole-in-the-wall shoebox-sized apartment.
“No problem,” he grinned, and stepped back a few more steps off the curb so he could watch her pull away. “See you later.” He wished he had a better parting shot, but hell, he was still awestruck - at least it was better than toodle-oo.