Scáthach (
symmachy) wrote in
sirenspull_logs2012-07-27 02:29 pm
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Entry tags:
ain't gonna hang around 'til there's nobody dancing
Who: Scathach & Bruce.
When: Friday evening.
Where: His place.
Summary: Date night.
Warnings: WHO KNOWS.
[It wasn't a date.
Well, maybe it was. Mostly, it was dinner between friends. That was what she preferred, even though she had dressed up a bit, as befitted a semi-formal occasion. Not unarmed, of course, knife strapped high on her thigh, invisible to anyone watching. She was just a young woman walking alone just before sirens went off, looking far too casual to not be up to something.
At least, that was how she imagined she looked. Most people were already locked up in their houses, safe from the nighttime monsters. She considered lingering, but didn't want to show up covered in blood again. It would be rude. His shirt was folded neatly over her arm, washed and ready to be returned. Scathach ran a hand through her cropped red hair as she arrived, and gave a cursory knock at the door. She wondered where this would go, if she'd really get to meet this mysterious "Other Guy," but knew it was rude to ask.
Sadly, that had hardly ever stopped Scatty before.]
When: Friday evening.
Where: His place.
Summary: Date night.
Warnings: WHO KNOWS.
[It wasn't a date.
Well, maybe it was. Mostly, it was dinner between friends. That was what she preferred, even though she had dressed up a bit, as befitted a semi-formal occasion. Not unarmed, of course, knife strapped high on her thigh, invisible to anyone watching. She was just a young woman walking alone just before sirens went off, looking far too casual to not be up to something.
At least, that was how she imagined she looked. Most people were already locked up in their houses, safe from the nighttime monsters. She considered lingering, but didn't want to show up covered in blood again. It would be rude. His shirt was folded neatly over her arm, washed and ready to be returned. Scathach ran a hand through her cropped red hair as she arrived, and gave a cursory knock at the door. She wondered where this would go, if she'd really get to meet this mysterious "Other Guy," but knew it was rude to ask.
Sadly, that had hardly ever stopped Scatty before.]
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He had decided to approach it as an experiment, offering different textures, different flavors, from sweet to savory and soft to crisp. Truth to tell, it kept him from getting nervous to focus on the food.
It worked right up until the moment Scatty knocked on the door. He wiped his hands on a clean kitchen towel, took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, and went to open the door.
He wasn't too proud to admit that his eyes got a bit wide when he got a look at her in that dress, and suddenly felt completely out of his league in a soft, second-hand pair of jeans and a purple oxford dress shirt.
He opened the door wider and stood aside to let her in.]
You... you look beautiful. I mean... uh... Please, come in.
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A smile, without teeth. She hadn't missed the wide eyes and the stuttering.]
Thank you, Bruce.
[And she brushes past him, acting way more cool and collected than she actually was. Sue her, she had been worshiped as a goddess for thousands of years.]
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He closes and locks the door before turning to follow her, and he's not too proud to admit that he has a long moment of wondering what her bare back would feel like under his hands.
A long moment that he banishes, rubbing his palms on his jeans and clearing his throat.]
Can I get you anything to drink? We have some time before the nasties come out to play, might as well enjoy it now.
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She looks over her shoulder, contemplating. Scatty wonders what he's thinking, why he dries his hands on his pants.]
Tea?
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[He moves past her into the kitchen to fill a kettle and put it on the stove.]
I didn't know what you'd like to eat, so I made a few different things.
[He pokes his head out of the kitchen to offer her a smile and to reassure himself that there actually is a beautiful woman in his home who is there to see him.] We can go out after if you still want to.
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A bag or no, it doesn't matter. Either is fine.
[And there's a small smile on her face when she looks back, pausing on her way to the kitchen.] We'll see how dinner goes first, yes?
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He barely looks up from measuring out the tea, but the stolen glances are enough to show he's completely serious.]
Why are you here?
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Her eyebrows raise at the question.]
You invited me.
[If he didn't expect that, there is something wrong.]
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That's not what I meant.
[He opens a cabinet.]
Honey? Sugar?
Why are you here with me instead of picking some guy who will share your interest in swords and weapons? I wouldn't ask, but we have a little bit of an age and species gap.
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Neither.
[Alright, that does get a smirk out of her. She pretends to think, already having a (bullshit) answer in mind. She sounds completely serious when she responds:]
I've taken a recent interest in science. And from what I hear, you're the best.
[She's lying, she hasn't heard anything except what he's told her.]
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He closes the cabinet and turns the heat up under the kettle because it's taking too damn long.]
Because in three weeks I've acquired enough of a reputation for you to hear that.
Scathach, stroking my ego just makes me suspicious, not pliable.
[On the up side, this line of discussion has banished his nervousness altogether.]
Appetizer?
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I'm not trying to stroke anything, Doctor Banner.
[If he isn't an inch away from hulking out on her ass then I applaud him. She smiles, this time with teeth. It isn't threatening, but it isn't exactly gentle either.]
Yes, please.
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Doctor Banner now? [The kettle is making quiet noises that's close enough to boiling for Bruce's satisfaction at the moment.]
If you haven't studied humans enough over the past ten thousand years, I'll let you know that this is what we call a mixed message and I am trying to bridge the communication gap instead of just assuming you're going to think like someone who's going to live less than a hundred years and doesn't feed off of emotions.
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His frustration was... interesting. She hadn't seen this part of him yet, even if she had expected it. Even Nicholas Flamel, a man she had known for over three hundred years, could only handle Scathach's particular brand of "affection" for so long. And she thought of him as a father.
Scathach waits until he's finished, and then props her elbows on the table so she can rest her chin in her twined fingers.]
While I'd like to ask why you're upset, I'll leave it for later. Instead, let me ask this: why are you suddenly so concerned with my reasons for being here? I thought I had made it clear. [She almost carelessly drags her thumb over her bottom lip, just in case he'd forgotten.]
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Actually no, it's not clear to me. [Because if that gesture meant sex, he is about the worst possible booty call she could choose.] That's why I asked. I don't like asking questions I already know the answer to.
Give me a Scathach to English translation. Knowing why you're here will help keep me from making even more of an ass of myself than this already is.
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But she gives a melodramatic, long-suffering sigh. Why couldn't humans take things at face-value? She got enough suspicion from her own kind. She idly runs a finger around the rim of her teacup.]
I'm here because I want to be. [Which was an accomplishment in itself because she can't... actually want.] And because I think you're a nice guy and I'd like to get to know you. [Oh my God Bruce, why are you making her be honest and shit.]
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Thank you. After that I owe you. You wanted to ask me something?
[Not that he'll be telling her that the seed of his interrogation was planted by an offhand remark Leonard had made, but fair's fair. He reached over and took a wedge of naan, spooning a bit of chutney onto it.]
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Why are you upset that I'm here?
[Not were. It was still eating at him, she could tell.]
I can leave, if you'd prefer.
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Did you know that there's peace in not having hope? [He laughs self-deprecatingly and shakes his head.] Okay, that's a lie, it's not peace, but it's close enough for someone like me, and now even my close enough is shaken up.
So maybe that's it, and maybe it's just that I've been planning to show you what I'm like when I let the anger loose, and then you'll either want to use me or leave.
[How's that for honesty?]
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First, Bruce, I don't need to use you for anything. For example, if I was going to destroy this port and everyone in it, I wouldn't need this "other guy" to help me. [This is a fact. Don't confuse it for anything else.] Second, I'm not going to leave. That's just silly. [Surprisingly light-hearted for a woman who just said she could level this city on her own.]
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He drops his eyes first and drains half his glass before setting it down again.]
Well... this is awkward, but I'm not sorry I asked. You don't need a scientist, and you're beautiful enough to get any man you set your mind on, that only leaves the Other Guy. If you're not interested in him, the only logical explanation is that you want my body. [My god, based on his small, sly smile, Bruce actually has a sense of humor. There's still anger under there, but that's nothing new. He probably wouldn't know how to function without it.]
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I want your body. That's what you think? [Man did he really think she was that shallow? Well, to be honest she could be, but that wasn't the case this time.] Is me just wanting good company so implausible? Gods, maybe humans have changed more than I realized. [She wasn't exactly offended. Technically, she couldn't be. But there's a slight edge to her voice, hardly masked by her conversational tone.]
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He sighs and pushes his glass around in its circle of condensation.]
I'll make a note that self-deprecatory humor doesn't translate between Bruce and Scathach. I don't expect anyone to be after my body if their motives don't include vivisection. You aren't looking to vivisect me are you?
[He's already mentally distributing the food that she's probably not going to eat when she gets sick of this and walks out.]
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Not at this moment, no. And I don't have any future plans to.
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Scathach... well, she had reawakened other hungers.]
That's good. Really good. Do you still want dinner?
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