Just Your Typical(?) Boy Meets Girl Story


bf_kaylee_icon.gif bf_luther2_icon.gif

Scene Title Just Your Typical(?) Boy Meets Girl Story
Synopsis Blonde, 20-something, newly minted NYPD detective looking for a tall drink. Finds it and a dinner date.
Date January 15, 2012

Birch Coffee

5:15 AM

For absolutely years, even before she first joined the NYPD, Kaylee Thatcher had been coming to this particular coffee shop. Being a bit of a creature of habit, she’d arrive everyday around the same time to get herself either a hot mocha(cold weather) or iced mocha(hot days). This hadn’t changed in years and it certainly wasn’t going to change today; she steps through the door, with the tiny bells tinkling out her arrival.

Every one of the barrista’s knew who she was even though the telepath didn’t really try to start up conversations… and they never were interested. Telepathy comes with a certain stigma. People have secrets and having someone who could potentially give them away… well… they don’t like it.

Today, Kaylee was in a rare good mood and she wasn’t going to let the judgy people ruin it. She was headed into the precinct office as a brand new NYPD detective, having aced the exam thanks to Demsky and her bestie Colette.

Stepping into the line, Kaylee pulls out her cell phone and starts tapping on its smooth surface; which also serves to keep her from having to really speak to anyone in line. Of course, as she starts to type, the phone in her hand goes off, bleating out a few lines of Weezer’s ‘My Best Friend’, before she answers it.

“You know, Colette…” Kaylee sighs it in mock annoyance. “I’m there yet.” There is an edge of amusement to Kaylee’s voice and her smile bright. “No, I’m getting coffee. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything good. Alright? Alright… Bye.” The call is terminated quickly with a soft chuckle to herself.

A tall shadow darkens the doorway of the coffee shop before a palm pushes open the door with the characteristic jingle of tiny bells. The man that steps through would appear as any other businessman of the age, a cool dark blue with grey undertones suit, tastefully matched shirt, and black leather shoes making up his wardrobe choice. By casual, physical appearance only, he could blend in with any urban commercial or financial district; it’s something else about his entrance that sets him apart in the way he walks into the familiar atmosphere with a decidedly unfamiliar air. Like his awareness of himself in the moment is supposed to conclude with his not being there, his not belonging there. Kaylee’s seen that disassociated look before, more often than not in those who have some inner issues they’re working out.

Like those who haven’t really had the chance to recover from the Midtown bomb. Like those who have done hard time.

Luther Bellamy is one of those men. But for the rest of the world swirling in activity, be it literally from the cappuccino machine whipping a foamy, milky content to simply the bustle of this commercial space, he is a rock tossed into a gurgling river. And he sinks.

Kaylee soon finds him standing behind her in line to order, maintaining that polite single file distance, enough that he doesn’t intrude on her phone call bubble. The concept of waiting isn’t new to him either - if anything, he’s as meditative as one can get once he’s there. Again, a rock, silent and stony faced, unmindful of anything. His mind in fact is blank, or at least there’s hardly a thought that comes to it even as he looks over to the menu board, grey eyes scanning the available options and choices. Most patrons enter the coffee shop with a drink or purchase already in mind. This man doesn’t seem to have decided upon anything.

The one cashier breaks the silent observation with a greeting towards the man, though, her smile an easy one as she names him. “Hey Luther, back again?” The cashier doesn’t wait for him to respond though, perhaps knowing he’ll answer eventually when it’s his turn to order. For now, the cashier nods at Kaylee, bidding the telepath forward to the register. “What can I get started for you?”

The near quiet of the mind coming into the shop snags her attention, even though she is still tapping out a message on her phone, she checks out the new arrival out of the corner of her eye. There is something familiar there… Creature of habit like herself maybe? Yet, it’s like she’s never noticed him before. Huh….

Before he can notice her looking, Kaylee turns away, finishing off her text. Though now she is very aware that he is there. A bit of a puzzle at that.

It is only when the text zooms off with a familiar sound, Kaylee realizes it’s her turn. Oops. Putting on a small embarrassed smile, she steps up to the counter. “Hi Sandy… Sorry, starting a new job today and everyone wants details… Just my normal, please.” That she gets… often. There is a blank look on the cashier’s face. Really?

“Mocha,” she offers after a moment, with a small sigh.

Giving the woman an amused look, Kaylee catches the barista glancing behind her. Luckily, the telepath is in a good mood, so she doesn’t allow herself to feel annoyed. Instead, she gives the woman not only money for the detective’s coffee, but enough to buy one… “For him, too.” That is said, leaning forward enough to talk softly and not make him any the wiser. “It’s a good day… so might as well, pay it forward.” The tip she tucks into the jar is a little more generous, too. “Just tell him it’s on the house or something.” Not from her is the gist of what she is trying to say.

Luther gets another sly glance and Kaylee moves to the pick-up to wait for her own coffee.

Sandy catches the sly glance, but for the sake of discretion, doesn’t speak anything other than, “Oh congratulations on the new job!” to chat up the generosity of the tip giver. It’s not the worker’s place to inquire further seeing as there’s another in line. The cashier also eyes Luther, and nods once to Kaylee as she rings up the mocha and a second.

Then it’s Luther’s turn in line, and he steps forward to order. The man’s choice of drink is a mid-sized medium roast, which isn’t all that peculiar, but the second part is a curious exchange.

“Where was I at?” asks the suited man with a glance to the menu board.
“Hm… oh, I think you were starting into the ‘M-i’ group,” chirps Sandy, “which means you’re into the caffè misto.”
“Okay, add that one.”
“Mm. Do you want to try the mocha instead?”

At that proposal, Luther doesn’t immediately jump for the option, but he does blink at Sandy in confusion. “Is the misto not a good one?” he inquires in a genuinely suspicious regard.

“Oh everything’s good, including the misto. But I mean, the mocha, it’s on the house. Today only,” Sandy dismissively waves off his suspicions, flashing a brighter smile as she gets him to nod slowly, consenting to the change of order. “Don’t worry,” Sandy says as she rings up the drinks, “we’ve got a record of you.”

That phrase immediately makes the man’s brow knit together, his body even stiffens slightly. The poor barrista spies the look and she’s quick to add, “No no, it’s just a note. Look.” She holds up a small pocket-sized pad, with what looks like alphabetically ordered letters and five-count tally marks. The letters A through ‘M-e’ have been crossed out, leaving M-i open. “Here, I’ll cross out ‘mocha’ out of the equation.” Sandy picks up a pen nearest the register and writes down ‘mocha, Reg’. And this time, Sandy gives him the total for the meager drink and the fancier chocolate one. Once the regular coffee is paid for, Luther thanks Sandy and moves over to the pickup area as well.

A glance turns his gaze to Kaylee, and he gives the new detective a short “excuse me” before moving past her and choosing to stand near the pickup window.

During that whole exchange Kaylee stares at the woman with a flat look. That wasn't what she meant when she gave over the money. Clearly, the whole be sneaky and pay for the man’s drinks didn't go exactly as planned. At least the woman didn't say she bought it.

Something with that exchange strikes a cord with her. It bats at her curiosity, until it latches on to one fact.

He is as much of a regular as she is… how had she never seen him before. Or — glancing down at the phone in her hand and the half typed message — or was she just that stuck in her own world?

There is a soft click as the screen goes dark. “Why do they have a record of you?” The detective attention is now on this odd gentleman. “I get practically the same thing everyday and they never remember. Yet, you have a record.” There is no hiding the curiosity and amusement at the idea. Of course, the fact that he is a rather good-looking guy, especially dressed like that… (Wow..she will have to tell Colette about that later)) … it does cross her mind, but that doesn't stop her from asking the question.

Sandy is not, alas, a mind reader, so what intentions Kaylee had outside of paying for a drink likely didn’t translate. And, Luther appears to have had accepted the extra drink without question. Not that he expected that little bit. His hand reaches up to lightly stroke at the stubble on his chin in idle waiting, up until Kaylee speaks to him.

With a blink, Luther turns his attention to the woman, the grey gaze flicked down to observe her overall. “They’ve been helping me keep track,” he answers after a beat, “of what I’ve tried out on the menu. A new thing a day.” That gaze lifts from some point just behind her to her actual face, as if he remembers eye contact a beat later. “I asked them to, a few months ago. On the ‘M’s now.” Indeed if he’s been coming here for a bit in a way that either she hasn’t noticed, or their paths might not have crossed ways. Until today.

Luther smiles crookedly at her, and shrugs his shoulders once. The habit doesn’t strike him as unusual until now, though he’s playing it off that it’s not weird he’s been getting two things every time he’s come in. “Keeps things interesting. And I think they have a pool on whether or not I’m going to finish the job,” he notes in mild amusement, because by his tone it sounds like he’s not worried that he won’t get to the end of the menu. He extends a hand to introduce himself. “Luther,” supplies the man.


The word spoken as if she finds what he just said interesting and curious; and, it is all wrapped into that one little utterance. He is studied as if she is seeing him in a new light. “I don’t think I would have ever thought to do that,” she admits with amusement. “I’m more adventurous with food, rather than my coffee. Though, even with food, I have my habits.” Mainly, calling the little Asian place on the corner near her apartment.

There is only a small hesitation, eyes dropping to the offered hand, before she takes it. “Kaylee,” offers back with a bright smile. “You seemed awfully familiar, but that must be from here.” She motions to the shop around her with a flick of her wrist. “Been coming to this shop for years.”

Mocha!” is called from the pick-up window.

Kaylee steps forward quickly to retrieve the cup, with a soft thank you. “You’ll have to let me know how you like yours.” His mocha that is. “Like I said… I’m not adventurous with my coffee. Pretty basic about it.”

“Haven’t heard of half the stuff on the menu,” Luther explains although it isn’t to give an excuse, “Weirdly enough, the shop down the street’s taste is different. I think, though, I prefer this one.” His handshake is warm, both physically and in manner. It might lead one to wonder if his coffee cools slower than everybody else’s. “Been here a while now,” he considers of her observation that he seems familiar. “Not years yet. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He releases her hand so she can retrieve her mocha, returning to a relaxed standing position.

His eyes don’t move off of her either, given that mocha retrieval is a quick affair, but the man quirks a brow up at the woman for her comment about his drink. Or rather, her interest in his opinion of it. Luther seems a touch puzzled, uncertain if he should respond immediately, but is saved when the pick up window calls out his coffee and the second mocha. Luther bobs his head as he steps around Kaylee, grasping both cups in his hands. The barrista notes as well, “Hope you like it, Luth.”

Stepping back over to where Kaylee is, Luther considers both cups at first. Then, tentatively, he decides to lift the mocha up to his lips. There’s a pause, then the man nods his approval. “It’s not bad,” he thus supplies as an assessment to the blonde. It may seem like a lukewarm opinion, but the fact that he continues to sip at it instead of the regular medium roast is telling enough.

Abruptly, he turns back to Kaylee and asks, “You want to grab something to eat?” The implied together is just that, silent and implied. It almost seems like a trick question, a test, were it not that he sounds genuinely sincere. No ulterior motive rises unbidden to his forethoughts. Aside from seeing if she’d be interested, or hungry.

His assessment of the mocha leaves Kaylee looking rather pleased. Plucking the stir stick out so she can enjoy her own, she is unfortunately taking that first sip of mocha when Luther springs the food question on her. That sip of hot liquid ends up down the wrong pipe and she ends up trying to stifle the ensuing cough. She was not expecting that kind of question from a man she had just met.

“Sorry.. Hot.” She manages that little white lie between coughs, face flush from embarrassment. It takes her a moment to compose herself and maybe the mental reassurance that he only talking about just eating helps.

The phone, now in her pocket, chimes and is ignored; which for her is odd. “You know… “ she starts with a rather amused smile, “I am half tempted to take you up on that and I don’t normally do that.” Fingers move to tuck a length of blonde behind her ear, as she admits with an embarrassed chuckle, “Lord knows I could eat a horse.” There sounds like there is a ‘but’ in there.

But I’m starting a new job today and… I really can’t be late.” Teeth catch at her bottom lip as she considers a thought… it’s a little bolder than normal and Kaylee almost seems hesitant to ask. “Dinner, maybe? Your choice of cuisine?”

There are a few pairs of eyes that turn as Kaylee chokes on a bit of her mocha, though nobody’s rushing to her aid. Luther appears to be slightly concerned though even he doesn’t try to step in unnecessarily. She can handle it. In fact he may a bit curious that that was her reaction to his question. His gaze flicks down to the pocket where her phone chimes, that alert getting an arch of his brow. Should she get that? But since she doesn’t, and instead looks back up to him, his focus also returns to her face. Studyingly.

The man’s shoulders shrug in immediate response to the last question, but Luther purses his mouth at the positive, if tentative, agreement to meet for dinner. Like even he’s surprised that this arrangement is being made here and now. Hesitation could be taken as a negative, after all, and her reason could be something made up. Still, Luther inclines his head to a side, regarding her assessingly before he finally nods. “Alright,” he agrees, a smile returning just a touch belatedly like his expressions aren’t used to that one. “When do you get off?” There’s a pause for her to answer, and a pause to sip at the mocha in his hand. “And whatever you like. I’m all for trying something new.” The last statement sounds laden with implications.

Something in the way he says that, her brows tip up with amusement. She honestly can’t decide if the way he is wording that is on purpose. Eyes narrow ever so slightly with suspicion, tempted to check, but she refrains from it…. It tough though, since for some reason she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“With hope, at normal human hours,” is her response to when she is off work. “How about…” she doesn’t finish that, turning instead to grab a napkin; then leaning over the counter to ask Sandy, “Can I borrow your pen?” The barista hands over the pen with a mildly confused look. “Thanks,” Kaylee offers brightly, using the pen is a sort of a salute.

A number is jotted down on the napkin, along with her first name, and the pen handed back to Sandy. “As I was saying,” Kaylee starts turning back to him, folding the napkin in half, and offering it over to Luther with a bit of mischief to her smirk and a little upward tick of her brow. “How about you call me around five this evening. I should have an idea of my day by then.” Being a detective, could mean odd hours, though with hope, her first day will be easy.

Her head tilts a little as she studied him thoughtfully, “I’m sure I can think of something for us to try by then.” Her own words just as laden as his.

Normal human hours. Luther dips his gaze down briefly, something about that phrase catching him off somewhere, so much that when he looks back up to Kaylee borrowing a pen from Sandy the barista, he shares the mildly confused look that the barista has although for another reason. What’s normal, really?

The tall man leans forward, shifting the medium roast coffee onto the side of the pick-up window’s shelf so he can receive the folded napkin. A moment taken to open the napkin and check what’s been written inside. Kaylee’s smirk gets one in return. HE refolds the napkin, tucking it into a pocket of his suit. Her last statement widens the smirk on his face to a crooked smile.

“You got it.”

Pies ‘n’ Thighs

6:38 PM

Sometime around five, he had called just like she requested. A local cellphone number, now recorded into her phone’s history, provided a short chat of where to meet after hours. It’s a small corner joint, brightly decorated with reds and whites and the promise of southern comfort food served by a cool sunglassed chicken, its wing holding a slice of cherry pie, for a mascot.

Waiting for Kaylee to arrive at the corner in front of it is Luther, this time also in a bit more relaxed business casual outfit. He’s had time to change. He’s also early, though, so he’s taking a moment to peer at the posted menu on the window, perusing the myriad of combinations one could potentially order.

“Wow…” Comes the compliment from behind him. Turning, he’d find Kaylee standing there looking much like she did this morning and a bright smile. Still in the same clothes as this morning. “I feel completely under dressed,” she says looking down at herself, hands out. Though she is wearing something rather business casual, it is the leather jacket that hugs the curve of her waist, that keeps her from looking like a complete working stiff.

Unlike the man she is meeting, Kaylee has had no time to rush home, worry over outfits and all of that typical stuff women do, but then a typical woman might have allowed herself to be late. Kaylee isn’t like that, she’d rather be on time.

“I am starving,” Kaylee exaggerates (or is she?) that word a little as she joins him by the menu, leaning forward a little to get a good look at the menu. “I had no time for a real lunch today. I am not sure how any woman lives on salad alone.” A finger points to a couple of items, “This place… it’s my favorite for when I want food more like I used get back home.” And she does have a slight accent, which has been dulled with New York living. Lips pressed together as, blue eyes roam over the menu. “Problem with being super hungry you want to eat it all.”

Turning her attention to her — is it really a date? We shall see — dinner companion, Kaylee tilts her head towards the door. “Shall we?”

Luther turns at the compliment, startled from the reverie of menu perusal and that she’d managed to sneak up on him. Momentary distraction on that disturbing thought gives way to actually looking at her, and the man’s expression eases into a smile. “Naw,” he replies to her comment about being under dressed, “it’s not like it’s a Sunday in Georgia.” Then they might potentially both be underdressed.

Her added bit about starving serves as a reminder that he too is hungry. Luther’s gut agrees with the woman. Noisily. The man shoots a glance down to his midsection like it’s said something untoward, then he glances back up and clears his throat lightly. “Yeah, I didn’t have salad but, let’s get inside.” Because women and men should not live on salad alone.

Once they’re seated at a booth near the window looking out to the street, menus in hand and drinks ordered (Arnold Palmer for him), Luther seems to ease down into that comfort zone in the atmosphere provided. There’s food and drink to be had, and as far as he can tell, good company. “Everything looks good here,” he says to her sitting across, and though he might mean the items on the menu, there’s a sense that he’s paying her a compliment as well given that his grey eyes are peeking over the top of the laminated page. “What’re you thinking of ordering?”

A beat. “Black eyed pea salad?”

Yes, he just said that. The menu hides the smile, but the expression reaches his eyes in amused glimmer. Luther reaches for his drink.

“Really?” Kaylee pauses in the unwrapping of her straw, to level as flat of a look as she can muster at him, though the little uptick at the corner of her mouth might indicate she isn’t really insulted. “I mean… it is good, but do I really look that that kinda girl?” Probably, since despite eating habits, she doesn’t see to have the ability to gain weight. The straw is dropped into her glass of sweet tea and her menu retrieved.

The woman had been torn, but his comment spurs her into a decision. “I’m thinking about that Insane burger, I just feel like something meaty… Something I can really sink my teeth into.” The menu is flipped shut and dropped on the table, like one would drop a mic. “Maybe a side order of mac and cheese, too.”

The glass of tea is picked up with impish smile. While she gives him a look that clearly challenges him to judge her food choice, she gives her tea a sip.

He may have been locked away for several years but even Luther knows he shouldn’t push too much with the teasing, So his response is an enigmatic smile as he sets down the menu. “Good choices. Classic,” he says in commentary with her decision. Funnily enough, her setting down of the menu is what catches the server’s eye, prompting the waitress over to take their order. Kaylee doesn’t find out Luther’s choice of dinner until it’s his turn to order, to which he throws in for another classic of chicken and waffles, a side of collard greens, fries, and a piece of cornbread. The man orders unashamedly, thanking the server when the order taking is done.

“I thought about bacon, but it might be a bit much.” That’s a joke, without really sounding like one given how straight he delivers the statement. Another sip of his drink after, and he sets it aside. “How was the new job?” The query, though following the course of small talk, sounds anything but. They didn’t really get a chance to talk earlier in the morning, so the question comes with layers and curiosity. He in fact hasn’t guessed at what her job might be, instead keeping whatever judgment might be attached down to a minimum.

“Bacon is like one of the best foods out there,” Kaylee gives him a look as if he is crazy. “Never feel the need to forgo the bacon. I, for one, will never judge when it comes to bacon.” She seems rather serious about it.

The question about the job has her turning thoughtful. “It was busy, which is part of the reason I didn’t have time to spruce myself up. Had some last minute paperwork to do.” Kaylee finally offers a bit vaguely. While she had no qualms letting her foodie self show with this one, her real job… that is a little tougher. “I really worked hard for this new position,” she remarks lightly, “and you know… sometimes you go into a job you think you understand everything involved?” Giving a huffed sigh, she rests her hand on her chin, gaze kind of distant and lost in thought. “There is a lot more to it that you don’t see.”

Her blue-eyed gaze flits over to meet his own grey one, her smile pulling to one side, she blandly asks, “But who really wants to talk about my boring day?” It really wasn’t, but she is playing it off as such.

“I’m not disagreeing,” Luther remarks innocently on the subject of bacon, although there is a quick glance to the counter where the waitress is busy punching in another table’s ticket. He’ll leave the subject of breakfast food enhancements aside for the time being, focused instead on the woman’s talk for her as of yet vague occupation. “Sounds like you’ve been plugging away at it a while,” he notes sympathetically. It’s her latter words that he definitely understands, even if the empathizing doesn’t quite make it through. The man nods slowly. “Isn’t every job like that though, you think you know how everything is working and you got a good idea, but then the bosses come and throw something totally curveball at your swing.”

“I don’t mind,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders and aiming a quirked smile back at her. “It’s, ah, interesting. I think I didn’t ask before and you don’t gotta say anything more if you don’t want to.” He blinks at her, adding after a moment, “But it’s nice. To listen to you.” It might be an odd statement to say, sounding something like a compliment but more like an observation layered over it. “Actually sounds more interesting than how my day went.” And before she really needs to ask, he sums up, “Slowly.”

The compliment manages to get a slight flush to her cheeks, she looks away as if for a moment, just a little shy, and she huffs out soft disbelieving chuckle. “Watch what you wish for, I’ve been told I can get super chatty. You might get tired of it.” He looks she angles his way out of the corner of her eyes, shows that she does appreciate the compliment.

“But, yeah… I’ve been working at this for a few years now.” Kaylee says softly, “After I hit rock bottom, after…. Losing everyone who meant something to me.” Her smile falls a little there with the memories that come with the words. “Someone picked me up off the ground and pointed out that I could still do something good with my life.” Sitting up straight again, she gives a little shrug of one shoulder, as she adds, “Today was kind of a…” She sighs, looking past him as she looks for the best to word it. “I- I guess today was me finally reaching the top of the pit I had fallen in.”

“Bonus, was meeting you,” Kaylee points out coyly. “Though, I think that was more… Karma.” Well, she might as well come clean. “So.. confession time.” Looking suitably embarrassed about what she was going to say. “When I went into the cafe today, I had decided to ‘Pay it Forward.’” There are actual air quotes that go with that. “To celebrate the new job. Just wanted to do something nice for the person behind me and pay for their drink.” She motions at him, since it happened to be him. “Sandy totally misunderstood me… which is why you ended up with the mocha.”

Clearly Luther doesn’t seem to mind that she’ll get chatty, at least not this early on, and he continues wearing the small, attending smile as she goes on. That smile wanes when she mentions losing people. The man blinks slowly, his grey eyes changing with the look of a deeper understanding. It’s an expression without pity, however. Neither does he say anything, lest the words come across as empty platitudes.

But the topic pushes off to a more lighthearted one, coy remarks and coffee confession absorbed with enough energy there to push up the corners of his mouth again. “So that was you,” he finally speaks, amusement lining his tone. “Sandy really tried to push that, didn’t she. Had a guess, considering you were in front of me in line, and wanted to know what I thought of the mocha. It was good. Drank the whole thing before I got to the regular.”

He takes another moment to consider, the next words coming out sincere, grateful. “Thank you.”

If there’s more to be said, he doesn’t yet. If there’s an awkwardness still present, it’s soon swept aside as the pair’s food arrives to the table. Kaylee’s Insane burger with her side of mac and cheese set down first, followed by Luther’s array of chicken & waffles, the collard greens, the cornbread, and french fries he indicates for their server to set down between them in the middle. She may not know much about the man, but the gesture holds meaning. More than just food, it’s sharing it. With another person. With her.

“Looks great, doesn’t it?” The golden fried crispy chicken thighs lean in a neat tower atop the thick waffles. It’s like he takes a moment just to appreciate the sight of the plate, its existence, rather than the sizable portions. Although that too.

“You are not lying,” Kaylee comments lightly, giving her hands a little rub of anticipation. “So glad you are not judgy like other guys I’ve been out with. Though you could be secretly,” she points out, giving him a look of mock-suspicion. Slices of onion are plucked off her burger. “I like food,” she admits without out any apology and bright smile. “Maybe that’s my southern background talking.”

The top of the burger is pressed down and she works on cutting it in half; eyeing his food thoughtfully. “Don’t think I have ever had their Chicken and Waffles, I’ll have to try that next time.” The comment is off-handed… Hard to tell if she is talking alone or maybe it is a thought towards this happening again.

Picking up half of the burger, Kaylee nods slowly. “Yeah… see… Much better than a salad.” Only then does she take a bite, then she gives a more affirmative nod about the taste. Yup. It’s good.

Glancing up to Kaylee for her comment about not being judgmental of her food choices, Luther lets out a soft, wry chuckle. “Hell no,” he notes, shaking his head, “you eat whatever you want. I’m the last person who’s going to do that. I like food too, so guess that’s a match.” His smile, crooked though it may be, echoes hers.

He reaches over for the squeeze bottle of syrup provided with his entree, moving the chicken aside with his fork to squeeze a bit of the syrup along the corner squares, but not over the whole thing in a mess. He catches the comment, and arches a brow at her curiously as if trying to discern that very distinction.

“Well, obviously,” he remarks on burger over salad. Because, duh. But, the note gives way to the meal ahead of them. A tasty, filling one no doubt.


The cool air of the evening breezes into the restaurant as the pair step out onto the corner sidewalk, Luther holding the door open for Kaylee as they exit. “I’m not sure I could get down another bite,” he says in line with their continuing conversation, “but there’s still a bit of room for dessert I’m sure.”

As he lets the door swing closed, he considers where they are, then her. “Or a coffee.”

“Or I dunno… both?” Kaylee supplies with a mischievous smile, even though she is almost too stuffed to think. As they start walking, she moves to boldly loop her arm through his, possibly a sign of how she thinks the evening went. “Be a heck of a way to top off a pretty eventful day, don’t you think?”

With their arms twined like that and his arm trapped against her side, it is hard for Kaylee not to notice the heat radiating off of him. It is kind of nice against the chill of the evening. “You always this warm?” She can’t help but ask, though she follows it with an appreciative sound and a murmur of, “Cause, a girl could get use to that.”

Her bold move to slip her arm into his catches Luther in surprise. He was not expecting it, for sure, but eventually the surprise gives way into an ease off of the pace to something more akin to a stroll. The appreciative tone of her question sends a sidelong gaze to her, a pleased smile giving away his amusement. “It’s been a while, but, I’ve been told that much,” he says as they go. “A long time ago.” That could be a potential dampener of the moment, and he’s off in his thoughts for a quick moment before he realizes it.

“Anyway, though, I appreciate the sentiment.” His arm hooks hers a little closer, showing that he at the very least in this moment is enjoying it. “And oh hey,” he says with a nod in the direction down the street, “coffee and dessert all rolled into one.” They’ll only have to walk a little further, though the pace can be as leisurely as they make it.

And a few steps towards the shop, Luther remarks in a slight tease for the woman of habits, “Maybe this time I’ll convince you to try something new.”

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License