Bumper Cars And Skeeball


elisabeth_icon.gif maxwell_icon.gif

Scene Title Bumper Cars and Skeeball
Synopsis A girl's gotta eat… even when her plate's full at work.
Date Aug 17, 2009

A Family Fun Center

For some reason, Max insisted on being cryptic about the what of their next date. He told her to dress casual and picked her up right on time. The night is hot, so he's dressed in khaki shorts and a short-sleeved collared shirt.

They've been driving for about fifteen minutes when Max grins over to her. "Okay. Now you have to close your eyes. We're almost there."

When he said 'dress casual,' Elisabeth wasn't entirely sure what to wear. Dark green capris topped by a white and yellow striped sleeveless blouse is what she decided on, with a pair of canvas slip-ons. She quipped with a smile as he picked her up, "You're not kidnapping me or something, right?" She watched where they were heading, interested in what he's trying to pull off and willing to be taken along for the ride. That grin's cute, too, and Liz rolls her eyes and complies with a smile. "Just what are you up to?"

"If I say too much, I'm gonna build it up too much. And if I do that, you're going to be disappointed instead of charmed. And we can't have that." Max turns a corner. "Keep them closed, now."

The drive only lasts a few minutes more as the car's powerful engine rumbles to a stop. He gets out of the car and trots around to her side. "Keep 'em closed, now." He tugs open her door and reaches for her hand.

Elisabeth laughs quietly, "All right, fair enough." She doesn't move in the car, and she doesn't peek either! And that's kind of hard, it means trusting the guy. When he touches her shoulder, she reaches up her hand and lets him draw her out of the car in the complete darkness behind her closed eyelids. She'll willingly follow.

Maxwell leads Liz carefully through the parking lot. Then, he's pushing the door open. As soon as he does, there's the sound of bells, cheering, crackly rock music and the distinct sound of large black balls rolling overhardwood.

"Okay, you can open."

It's not just a bowling alley - but a family fun center. There's skee ball, various carnival-type games, a rock climbing wall and, in the back, bumper cars. There are surprisingly few kids around, but that could have something to do with the nice weather outside.

The sound does, in fact, give it away, and Elisabeth is laughing even as he walks her inside. When he says she can open her eyes, her gaze confirms what her ears have already told her, and she looks up at him with an amused expression. "Is this a test or something?" Cuz you know, he told her the last chick he took to a bowling alley just plain didn't get it. "You're not hinting that I'm a cheap date, are you?" she teases.

"No, I just wanted to do cop versus stunt driver bumper car deathmatch," says Max with a grin. "But, if you're not in the mood for this, there's a pretty nice Chinese place right next door. I just thought I'd try to be cute and spontaneous. Is it working?"

Elisabeth looks around the place, taking in the scenery. "This is spectacular," she admits with a grin. "I haven't come to a place like this in ages. Cop versus stunt driver bumper cars, huh? You're on. I warn that I am one of those bowlers who barely clears 100 every time I play the game, though."

"Ah, that's all right. It's all about the fun. In about a half an hour, they're gonna turn out the lights and put on disco music. We can rent glowy shoes," Max moves further in and looks around. He rubs his chin and quirks an eyebrow. "So. What shall we do first?"

"Bumper cars!" she answers cheekily. When was the last time Liz was on bumper cars? She hasn't got a clue, but it sure as heck makes her laugh hysterically as she and Max chase one another around the bumper car arena. Three different times they pay their money and proceed to pummel one another senseless, mostly ignoring other people on the ride except as obstacles that must be duly avoided in their quest to bounce off one another or bounce one another off the walls. After the third time, though, Elisabeth calls a half with a laugh. "I'm gonna be sore tomorrow from all that jostling! Let's do something else…. I challenge you to a game of Whack-a-Mole!"

That's the funny thing about bumper cars. Doesn't really matter how good you are at actual driving, though Max does manage a few clever three-sixtys.

The moles? Well, they're about to get wacked. Max is a gentlemen and lets her have the mallet that is still mostly intact and seems to have a slightly longer string. Many a mole have their brains bashed in, to the satisfying jingle of bells and flashing lights. Some kid with cotton candy just kind of looks at them. Adults.

After the bells ring and declares one of them a winner, he motions towards the skee ball. "Shall we?"

Elisabeth gets her butt severely kicked in that game and sticks her tongue out at the thing before looking up at him with a grin. "You know those balls are all weighted wrong, right?" she asks. But it's not like it'll bother her — she heads for the skeeball and grins. "I warn you that I was on the softball team back when I was in uniform," she says, as if that will help her AT ALL. Although… in point of fact, it does help a little. She edges him out on the score at that game, and four games later they are swimming in tickets for the little prize counter. Disco music started somewhere in there, and even as silly as it may seem, she knows the words to some of those songs and even sings along. Stopping with a blush when he laughs at her.

"Well well well, I see I need to drag you out to karaoke for my next wacky date idea," says Max. He makes a playful grab for some of those tickets. "Hey, come on. I wanna get one of those cheap crackly radio-headphone sets. We only need….a hundred and fifty more tickets!" He glances towards the rock climbing wall that is currently unoccupied. The few kids that are here with their folks have gone to the snack counter to get hamburgers. From the grin on his face, well, he'd like to do some showing off.

"You do that and I'll definitely win the competition — I took music and voice lessons for years," Elisabeth admits with a laugh, fending him off as she giggles so as to keep the tickets for herself! There is a roll of her eyes as she notes where his gaze goes next, and Liz chuckles. "You go ahead — i am not climbing that. Not because I can't, mind you! But because I hate those harnesses." She shoos him to go ahead. "Show me whatcha got, Mister Stuntman."

"Oh jeez. Well, you'd kick my ass. I can give you a rendition of Sweet Home Alabama that only makes your ears bleed a little." Max eyes the rock climbing wall, then glances back at Liz. He's a hot dog. He'd like to show off. But really, that wall is meant for kids. It won't present much of a challenge. "Nah. You can just come down to the set one day when we're shooting our big cliffside scene." A beat, and a goofy grin, "I swear they just looked at my resume and built scenes out of the crazy shit I can do."

There's a laugh and Elisabeth taunts with a teasing jeer, "Awwwww…. bok-bok-bok!" It's clearly entirely tongue in cheek, considering what she's already seen him do. But it makes several pre-teen girls near the back giggle behind their hands.

Maxwell arches his brows at her and sets hands on hips. He pushes his tongue against his cheek and then squints up at the rock climbing wall. "I bet you…I could climb that in under thirty seconds." He points up to it, then back to her. Sure, it's not very high, but the speed is the boast.

"And what do I get if I win that bet?" Elisabeth asks cheekily.

"What exactly do you want?" asks Max. Suddenly, he's got a game-face on. Serious action hero face.

Pretending to look thoughtful, Elisabeth slants him a flirtatious smile. "There are many, many ways I can answer that," she replies, "but I'll settle for an ice cream."

"Ah, but I owe you dessert anyway. That's not a good prize. Choose something better," says Max, even as he heads to the rock wall with money to pay for his go up. There's no one else in line, so it doesn't take long before he's being strapped into the harness. He's already examining the wall.

"Actually, I owe you dessert," Elisabeth counters. "Tell you what… you get up and back down that wall in less than thirty seconds, and you have to tell me something no one except maybe your parents knows about you. Doens't have to be a tabloid-worthy something, just something that's uniquely yours."

Maxwell eyes the wall, then glances over at Elisabeth. "The only way I could do that is if I fell. Give me like, uh…" He rubs his chin and then jams the helmet down on his head. "…forty five?"

Elisabeth nods easily. "All right… deal. But you haven't said what you want if you actually make it in the time limit," she adds. "Ready set go!"

Maxwell might be a gentleman, but he's also a showoff and an adrenaline junkie. When she says go, he bends his knees and jumps to snatch handholds about two feet above his head. And then he's off with surprising speed. He moves quickly up the wall, only pausing for brief moments to reconsider hand and foot holds. He tags the top and then, despite the urging of the staff to rappel down the opposite side, he scales back down halfway and then jumps the rest of the way, only to be caught by the harness and lowered the rest of the way.

Elisabeth watches him with every evidence of both amusement and pleasure. Because after all, what's nicer than a guy who wants to show off just a little in a way that is not obnoxious or annoying? She's watching the clock, though, and applauds for him! "43 seconds!" she says admiringly. "Barely made it, but you win!"

Maxwell's breathing is a bit laboured, but not by much. He grins at her and works at removing the harness. The teens working the rig look annoyed. "Ha ha. I think…we'd better go before the manager comes over and politely asks me to leave. Don't want to happen. The guy might be all of twenty one."

Laughing now, Liz asks, "And this is a problem?" But hey, she's relaxed. "C'mon, then, show-off." She slides her arm through his and drags him to the prize counter. "Now… you can pick a pretty prize or leave the tickets for the kids." She tilts her head, waiting for him to decide.

"I think my life doesn't need another plastic water gun or an inflatable sword. But if yours does, then by all means, pick out anything from the…twenty five ticket row." Max digs the tickets out of his pockets and sets them all on the counter. The kid behind it has a face full of zits, a mouthful of braces and is grinning at him like an idiot.

"No way, dude, you're Luckmann!"

Elisabeth rolls her eyes and looks at the boy behind the counter. "Give it to the next set of kids who are short some tickets," she tells him with a grin. And then she tugs Max on out. "A walk?" she offers. "Or bowling?"

"Oh dude, I love Breakwater! Man, are the tits on that girl, uh…" the kid snaps. "…Ashley. Are they real?" His eyes go wide.

Max, for his part, looks embarrassed. "Uh, have a good one, man." He rocks back and follows Liz out.

With a grin, Liz walks him out and says, "So….. I take it you were in another movie?"

"Not, not a…" A little colour rises to his cheeks. Max clears his throat. "It was a TV series. Only lasted for one season. It wasn't high art or anything like that." Not if a teenaged boy was talking about the size of a woman's boobs anyway.

Elisabeth giggles softly, sliding her arm through his and says, "Yeah, well…. as you pointed out. It's entertainment and good fun, so who cares? You didn't say what you wanted for your win." She looks up. "So what's a stunt man who's got everything want when he impresses a girl on a date?"

"Oh, well, that sounds like a big trap, right there. I think I'd just dig myself into a hole if I asked for anything. So how about you just tell me what I've won?" Max digs his keys out of his pocket. "Do you want to go to the Chinese place for dinner, or are you in the mood for something else?"

"Chinese is fine," Elisabeth replies. She stops in the middle of the sidewalk, and looks up at him with a smile. "All right. For braving the insidious Wall of Doom and through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, you have fought your way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City…." She winks at him and then stands on her toes to kiss him, very softly — almost chastely.

Maxwell returns the kiss, softly and unhurried. He doesn't try to take more than he's offered. "Well," he murmurs, "If you're expecting leather pants and Bowie hair, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint." He makes a quirky little face. "Last time I tried to wear leather pants, it ended badly for all concerned."

Elisabeth laughs in delight. "Oh, you got the reference. Oh, I do like you, Maxwell Quinn. What other guy on the planet would admit to watching Labyrinth? And I rather like leather pants, but…. well, never had occasion to really wear them after college." She grins up at him.

"Hey, I was a kid in the 80s. It's pretty much a prerequisite. Now, if I admitted to watching She-Ra…" Max clucks his tongue. "Well now. Then that might be a head-scratcher." He grins and tries his luck. He leans down to try and steal another little kiss.

They're like teenagers, standing by a muscle car, outside the fun center, with shameless public displays of affection. Next they need to go smoke some weed under a bridge somewhere.

Standing there in the parking lot, Elisabeth lets him kiss her. It's actually kind of ridiculous how simple and not-demanding this moment is. When he releases her lips, she looks up at him with an expression that is… not exactly puzzled, but tentative. "I kinda liked Voltron myself," she admits in a murmur. Somewhat back on the topic but more because she doesn't know what else to say.

"Voltron? Well," says Max with a cant of his head and a quirked little smile. "This will never work. The ultimate 80s cartoon is clearly the Care Bears."

Elisabeth blinks. Several times. And she raises one eyebrow. "I gotta tell you … if you're serious, mister, we are so done. In spite of the really nice kissing part."

Maxwell grins big, but there's a bit of a playful cant to his head, like he's not willing to admit whether or not he's serious. And then something comes to him, and the look softens a bit. "I uh, well, I'm only going to be in New York another month or so. Once the movie wraps, I'm heading back to LA."

"I know." Tilting her head, Elisabeth studies him. "So…. is that important?" She's going to make him spit out what he's thinking. Because she could say "I'm not the type to get my heart broken, not to worry," but that might be a little callous and harsh.

"I get the sense that we're pretty clear that we're…having some fun, enjoying each other's company," and given the fact that they just played skee ball and rode the bumper cars, Max doesn't mean the tawdry version of 'fun.' "But I wanna be sure I'm not leading you on at all. Cause you're pretty awesome, and I don't wanna be a jerk to you."

That brings a smile to her face. "I already knew you were only in town for a while. You're not leading me on — that only happens if I'm expecting something more than friendship and fun from you." Elisabeth shrugs a bit. "I'm enjoying your company. It might turn into something else, it might just be this…. I'm perfectly content either way."

"At the risk of sounding like I'm laying it on thick here, you're…refreshing," says Max. He speaks the word like he suddenly had an inspiration for the best way to describe her. "There's no bullshit with you. No ego stroking, but no put-downs either. It's been good."

Elisabeth chuckles. "You really have been dating the wrong people, Max," she informs him easily. Glancing around the parking lot then back at him, she says, "Do me a favor, okay? Out there in big bad Hollywood? Remember your roots. You're a real nice guy, and I'd hate to see you turn into a jerk."

"I'm trying, Liz. I really am. It's hard to stay humble when you've got people around you who're used to feeding an actor ego. I'm…well, I'm not sure if I've managed to stay humble, but I think I can avoid the jerk thing, yeah," Max glances to the car, then opens up her door. "Shall we?"

Elisabeth laughs quietly. "It's looking good so far," she assures him, and then moves to slide into the car. Dinner wherever he wants to go is absolutely on the agenda.

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