tramitem_log | Guess I'm just a play date to you

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Guess I'm just a play date to you

Who: Harleen, Alec, and special secret ~~spies~~ guests
What: A blind date from Hell (because a demon set it up, get it)
When: Feb 14th, 8 PM
Where: Antonio's Restaurant
Warnings: None

Harleen never did work up the courage to text the number the Duane Reade demon gave her, and was seriously considering calling the whole thing off or at least pulling a no-show. But then her mother knocked on her door and looked deeply disappointed at hearing her daughter would be staying in on Valentine's, then strongly hinted that she'd been hoping Harleen would be out all evening so the parents could have a "very romantic, private sort of night."

So obviously Harleen could not be anywhere in a five mile radius of home with that cursed knowledge.

She put on a nice dress and jacket, nothing too flashy or that could lead to ... certain expectations, and headed out to meet her doom. Dinner. Her dinner date.

She arrived too early, as she usually did, and was seated at the table first. She ordered a glass of wine and promised herself that everything was going to be just fine. No date could be as bad as the one in her other self's memories.

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It only stung a little even though he knew that already.

"That is shit." He rested his chin on his fist and watched her. It wasn't the ideal solution but it was better than nothing. "I don't know anybody at all." Not really anyway. "So you can tell me about it if you want."

"A couple things first. One, is it Crowley or Alec? And two, can you please not say anything about my eyes?"

"Crowley." He'd never liked his name. His ears tgo a little red at the suggestion. "I won't say a word about your eyes or anything else."

"Crowley. Got it."

The waiter arrived with the winebottle and poured them both a glass before leaving them alone to enjoy their extremely romantic love match.

"God. I don't even know where to start, really." She picked up her wineglass just for something to do with her hands. "I guess ... Do you know much about recovered memory?"

He hesitated looking at the wine. He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that Anthony would have a fit if he drank it.

Spite won out and he took a sip, then sighed and gave her a wry look.

"You're Different as well." It wasn't exactly a question.

She froze and stared hard at him, trying to figure out if he was fucking with her. But that he even knows about the Different... And he wouldn't have said "as well" if he was about to tear into her for falling in with weird conspiracy cultists.

"Yeah."

"Sucks to be us." He saluted her with the wine glass before taking a drink. "Is it something that's going on here because of that or something... there."

"Both, I guess." She meets his salute with one of her own, and downs her glass in one go.

"The ... experience was. Very traumatic. I tried to talk to him about it and he didn't believe me, which. I mean, who would? But he wouldn't even talk about it, told me I was being crazy and dramatic. And it was like, 'why am I even with you?' So I walked out, cut off the engagement. Lost all my friends, the apartment, everything. Moved into my parents' basement."

"Well he wasn't doing shit for you anyway. If someone can't accept you through a crises, then they aren't worth your time. There's plenty of other people out there, and you seem like an intelligent woman. I'm sure you'll land on your feet." He finishes his own and refills their glasses since he's here.

"Are your parents the supportive kind or the kind that let you live in their basement but nag you every bloody day?"

"He was nice, at least until then. I guess when I wasn't playing my perfect wifey role right anymore he didn't know how to handle it."

She nodded in thanks for the refill and clinked their glasses together.

"Oh, daily nagging and overcharging on rent." She adopted a truly pitch-perfect imitation of her mother, not that he'd know, and said "Harleen, you're a doctor! It won't kill you to give your folks a couple extra bucks!"

She shook her head and scoffed. "I'm a research assistant, and barely even that."

"Tossers." He did not approve, but there was shit he could do about it anyway. "Parents shouldn't charge rent. They should at least have the decency to put you up somewhere. Maybe utilities if they were hard off. Maybe. But beyond that--" He shook his head. "Have you thought of looking around for a room mate?"

She shrugged. It didn't seem to bother her as much as it did him, but she'd had her entire life to get used to them.

"Wasn't enough time to shop around for a new place, the way I ended things. Anyway, it is true that I make more money than them, and even an overpriced basement in Bensonhurst is a lot more affordable than anything in Manhattan."

"Fair enough." Bloody overpriced city. He hated it here. If it weren't for Anty he wouldn't even be here. Of course if it weren't for Anty he wouldn't be anywhere so it was a blessing and a curse-- if this could be called a blessing.

"I know a couple Different that are living alone. One is an old man and one is a young man--" A shrug. "Can't say that either of them would be decent company but there it is."

"Man, what is with your family and trying to set me up with strange men? Are there cameras around? Do you both work on a prank show?"

The waiter returned to take their orders, which gave him a brief respite from the absolute terror of having a conversation with a pretty lady.

"And speaking of strange-- what the hell was up with you at the cafe?"

"I didn't tell you to date anyone did I?" Alec refrained from ordering any food because he wouldn't like any of it anyway. "It was just a suggestion and I don't know any single women. At least not in that way." Though her and Ellie would get on.

He sighed and leaned back.

"I don't know. Some drugged Valentine's sweets or something like that. I could not stop bloody eating them and it made me--" He gestured. "If it makes you feel any better I didn't actually mean any of it." Which was mostly a lie but for the better.

Oh good, being the only one to actually eat anything on a date. That definitely didn't ratchet up the awkward to a thousand. He wasn't kidding when he said he was bad at this.

"Sooo, you don't think I'm beautiful." She arched a perfect brow and smirked at him over the rim of her wineglass. "Well. I just don't believe that."

He gave her a flat look. "Do you really want to have this conversation?" He preferred to go back to speaking of her miserable life.

She shrugged, but that smirk stayed on her lips. "This is a date, in case you've forgotten."

"I think you're reasonably attractive for a woman your age and I'm sure you'll line some poor bastard up in a short time and make him exceedingly happy." And with that he drained his wine and reached once more for the bottle. Drunk might be the only way to get through this.

There was only about half a glass remaining. They hadn't gone easy on the poor thing.

She laughed. She'd never had a man pay her a compliment and sound so personally attacked while doing so.

"Ah, what a romantic. The soul of a poet."

Well he was glad that she was amused, at least. He shrugged. He wasn't good at romance. If he was-- well, he wouldn't have gotten divorced in that life and left behind in this-- justifiably in both cases. At least he had been with women who had found it easy to find someone new, but then maybe anything was a step up.

"This is why I'm a bachelor. I play to my strengths."

She was laughing which was a good sign but was she laughing AT Alec or WITH Alec? Unfortunately from his hiding place behind the greenery on the other side of the restaurant it was difficult to tell which.

What was clear was that Alec was drinking excessive amounts and not eating anything... the jerk! Try to get him out of the house and acting like a normal person and he goes all stupid again. Well this called for a little demonic intervention! With a gesture the waiter was called over and when the lady's dinner order arrived it would be accompanied by a plain pasta dish for Alec (If you are going to drink then you have to eat something!) and a very romantic on the house spread of chocolate covered strawberries (Cause this is a date you might as well remember that!).

The waiter would claim the pasta was a mistake but since it was here anyway you might as well enjoy it while he would say the strawberries were a special treat for couples that they were giving away to everyone... even though if you looked around none of the other couples had any. Enjoy!

Harleen laughed again but it was probably a testament to almost three glasses of wine before dinner more than her date's sense of humor. She was practically glowing, again, because of wine.

She complimented how good everything looked and thanked the waiter. She hoped Crowley would take the chance to eat the extra dish, because at least chewing would keep him from repeating how miserable he was and how much he didn't want to be here.

Somebody at this table was going to have a nice time, goddammit.

It may have to be her. Alec was immediately suspicious of the arrival of something he would be inclined to eat, checking with the back of his fork for bits of shrimp or any kind of seafood or sausage that may have snuck onto his plate. The bread was left untouched and the strawberries only glanced at.

Finding there were no intruders and feeling a bit on the hungry side, he devoted himself to scraping the worst of the pesto off with a focused scowl while the silence lingered.

And lingered.

And lingered.

Might need more wine.

Harleen watched him check his food like a TSA agent and his great pains to remove as much as the sauce as he could. It was hard not to judge, so she let herself judge just a teeny bit. Maybe he had a lot of food allergies.

She took a small sip of wine. This last glass would need to last.

"You hate the food, you hate my company. Or maybe just company in general, I'm not quite sure on that yet. So why did you bother to come out?"

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Drive by interruption -- Do carry on

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