Where do we stand?


marcie_icon.gif evan_icon.gif

Scene Title Where do we stand?
Synopsis After their one night stand on Valentine's Day, Evan and Marcie meet to learn more about each other.
Date February 18, 2011

Oh So Sweet

The interior of the dessert bar is lit enough to see the drink menus and the tables but dim enough to preserve the intimate atmosphere that is evident in small tables made for two populate the dessert bar that is Oh So Sweet. Here and there, espresso colored wooden tables are pushed together to seat larger groups, straight backed black chairs surrounding them. Single lights on long cords drop down just out of head bumping range, lighting up the darker regions of the bar.

A massive oak bar takes up one side of the main room, a part of the building from ages past when it was just a bar, mirrors lining behind it to give the illusion of more space and reflect what light there is available. Glasses of varying types and sizes hanging down in holders, stacked against the mirror or under the counter and waiting to be used. And old fashioned looking machine rests in it's copper gleaming glory, capable of producing a variety of drinks like coffee, espresso, latte's, the list is endless. Backless stools line the customer side of the bar, red fabric to match the red damask fabric that hangs down the walls to help dampen the sounds of customers when the place is busy.

Across from the bar runs a glass faced refrigerated counter, shoulder height, filled with just about every possible dessert that one could desire and want, lit up and with little placards dictating what they are. The offerings rotate daily, sometimes every few hours and a door to the kitchen behind them gives access to staff to fill the orders and fill the showcase. The back room opens up to the main area, a small raised area for live entertainment to be had when the times are right. A door marked staff only in the far back leads to the kitchens and another to the restroom's and a private area that can be rented out for private parties.

With Valentine's Day come and gone, the dessert bar has eased off from overcrowded back to merely busy. A number of couples have stopped by to kick off their weekend, and a few groups of friends; lone visitors are fewer and farther between… and one of them is waiting for someone, so he only sort of counts.

Evan's first encounter with Marcie left him with some fun memories, but also a number of open questions, not a lot of which got answered the next day. She did at least offer one clue, though— she could have been gone before he woke up, but she chose to stick around. If briefly.

Marcie Whitcomb walks toward Oh So Sweet dessert shop with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she had fun on Valentine's Day with Evan. On the other, she doesn't like giving out information about herself, especially her gifts, and she has a feeling that Evan is going to press the issue. She can't exactly have a healthy relationship with him if she keeps huge secrets to herself. But she's not sure if she actually wants a relationship with him. She hasn't had a real relationship in a while, and she's never had one where she truly opened up, at least not since her abilities emerged. Maybe that says something about her. But maybe that's just who she is.

She approaches the sweet shop and knows well before she enters that Evan is there, already waiting. She can sense him there from the street. She takes a deep breath and pushes open the door. "Evan, hey," she waves and walks over to him. Her smile is a little strained.

"Hey," Evan echoes, rising to his feet and easing out a chair for her with one foot. Not quite the old stereotype of chivalry, but informed by it nonetheless. He's been turning over some similar ideas in the back of his mind these past few days— but they'll have to wait a bit longer. That sort of thing makes for a lousy conversation starter. "How've you been?" he offers, instead.

Marcie shrugs. "Can't really complain," she says, somewhat vaguely. "You?"

"Been busy. Classes, research. The usual." It's more or less honest on Evan's part, only glossing over the unusual nature of some of that research: heady stuff, not something he plans to share just yet with anyone but the ones who brought it to him in the first place. "What do you do for a living, anyway? Besides hustle people who should stick to Go Fish."

Marcie grins. "I'm a courier," she explains, as usual leaving out just who she makes those deliveries for. And changing the subject as subtly as she can, "You say 'classes'; Are you a student or a teacher?"

"Both, technically," Evan explains, "but mostly the teacher part. Finishing up some doctoral research." And— there's a short pause while he mentally fast-forwards past the 'and'. "Must be challenging sometimes, with the city as broken up as it is." Ball's back in your court, Marcie.

"It can be," Marcie replies, not minding discussing the general nature of her job, as long as they stay away from specifics. "I know my way around the city pretty well, and the more difficult the job, the better it pays. So, that's good." And back to Evan. "What subject do you teach?"

Evan leans back in his seat. "Mathematics. Which is about as exciting as it sounds, but it's an important tool for some other things. My research is more tied in with the civil engineering department— how things like buildings and bridges can be damaged, how to deal with it." Sound familiar?

"Well, it sounds like you enjoy it," Marcie says.

"On the good days, yes. It fits well with my-" Abilities? "Skills. And I guess you like your line of work, too- fast-moving, meet a lot of people?" Edging closer to those other topics, now.

"It's Ok," Marcie says, noncommittally. "I wouldn't say being a courier would be my first choice for work, but it pays the bills, and I like the flexible hours. At least it's not working in an office. I could never do the 40 hour a week grind."

Evan shakes his head. "From what I hear, it's not so much banker's hours that wear you down, it's office politics. Columbia's pretty good about insulating against that sort of thing— unless you're angling for department head, but that takes a very special brand of crazy."

Marcie smiles. "So, what's your brand of crazy?"

"I don't think I have one." Evan glances over toward the counter; the place isn't quite packed yet, but it's getting close to where they'll need to order something or leave. Then, abruptly, his face falls: "Actually, I— knew someone, last year, had some old mental issues. Turned out they weren't so old, and… It didn't end well, let's say. So I may be in a bad head space myself, but it'll pass over time."

"I'm sorry," Marcie says quietly. She can't think of anything else to say to that. Clearly, something bad had happened. But pressing for details doesn't seem like the right thing to do.

Evan waves it off. "It's all right. I've got plenty enough to worry about in the present. Like—" He gestures toward her, now: time to address the elephant in the room.

"I tried to press you about a couple of things, back at the casino. And I shouldn't have. The way I figure it, either I'm totally off-track… or you know what I'm trying to get at, and you're okay with it. I am if you are, all right?"

"… He says cryptically," Marcie finishes with a chuckle. She neither confirms nor denies knowing what the hell he's talking about.

"Marcie," says Evan, reaching a hand partway across the table. "You told me I was keeping secrets. Which, I figure, basically tells me that you could tell that I was… and you don't mind me knowing. And you're not blowing any whistles, or else you would've done it already by now." And, probably not, y'know, spent the night with him.

Crap, I knew I shouldn't have said that. I must have been more lonely than I thought. Marcie thinks quickly. "I told you you were keeping secrets as a joke," she says with a small smile. "As you said, everyone has secrets. I was just BSing about how I could read people. If you've actually got some big secret, you can tell me or not, but I don't know what it is." She chuckles. "Only, I'm assuming it's not an ability to count cards."

Hmm… he suspects that she's BSing him now, but if he just comes out and says that to her face, then it's pretty much over right now. And, Evan finds, he doesn't want it to be over. Not yet, anyway. "Well, let's just say that you assume correctly. And— do you want to get anything while we're here? I think they're about to want their table back."

"Sure," Marcie says. "I wouldn't mind trying one of their eclairs." She's not sure if Evan believes her about the whole Evolved thing, but, even if he doesn't, he has no proof. As long as she keeps denying it, she should be fine.

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