airbaths | 。

[ And that's the end of it.

Or at least, it seems that way.

Lance doesn't cross paths with her again for the rest of the job. He thinks about leaving her a note with his personal e-mail address, or asking her to keep his number and ring him some time, but it feels... inappropriate. Lacking in professionalism, considering how little they actually spoke, so he doesn't. Just tidies up neatly after himself and sends her an invoice.

He doesn't forget about it, though. The frustrating part is that he knows, from her own words, that she doesn't go out much. There's so little chance he might --

Lance pauses, chilled coffee half raised as he spots her further up the street. He pushes up his sunglasses, squints to be sure, then hopes nobody notices as he unsubtly elbows past other people and jogs toward her -- slowing in an attempt at nonchalance as he gets closer and intercepting her neatly. He offers her his best smile. ]

Hi.

[ ... Right. Perhaps he should have planned past this. The realisation shows for a moment on his face as he fumbles for something else to say. ]

I saw you, from down the street -- not... that I was watching you I just happened to and... I was surprised, I thought I might not see you again. Well, unless... you needed some more decorating done I suppose.

[ Stop. Talking. He takes a breath awkwardly and fidgets with his cup. ]

[ Needless to say, Q had expected to never run into the man again. Job complete, he had no real reason to contact her again. Their casual conversation hadn't ventured as far into flirting. Q wouldn't allow it. She's not entirely sure how ready she is to attempt another juggle of relationship and career.

Shame, however. Lancelot was at least very good looking and funny.

She probably looks a mess. Wavy curls a bit greasy at the roots from a long night, fingers obviously run through a curl here and there; eyes tired; clothes clean but wrinkled from the day. Hardly how one would want to be found.

But there he is. Finding her once more. Q blinks in surprise. She's not entirely sure how to take this. Yet, she finds herself smiling. ]

On your way to sing to your grass, Mr Dulac?

[ He blinks in confusion, stands with his mouth open for a few seconds before he lets out a burst of self-conscious laughter. ]

On my way back from T'ai Chi, actually. I...

[ He hesitates, glancing at the cup in his hand.

He already has coffee. He can't ask her to coffee while standing with cold coffee in his hand. This is terrible. He should have disposed of the cup before intercepting her.

Or planned at all, even. ]

Are you busy?

[ He flicks his eyes up again, a touch wary -- as if expecting an immediate brush off. ]

It's rude of me to interrupt you, I'm sorry, but, I was hoping you might let me buy you a drink some time. I didn't know how else to approach you without seeming -- well, ruder than this.

[ It is incredibly charming to see someone as handsome as he is so thrown off by simply talking to her. He's must be very good at pretending, sincere, or finds her just that alarming. At least she could make a clean break with the first. The other two? Hardly a downside.

She allows him a few moments to gather his thoughts while she adjusts her coat zipper. It's only just now hit her how dreadful she must look. ]

I'm not particularly...

[ But again hardly how she would have like to have been seen. She's a bit tired, but coffee could do her wonders at the moment. She dwells on it for a moment. He's at least polite, free coffee. ]

If you don't mind? I had another... thrilling evening, as we say.

[ ... It worked.

Well, Gwaine and Percival were always tell him to try being a bit more forward but --

He hadn't dared hope it might actually work.

The surprise is evident for a second before her words sink in and he frowns in sympathy. ]

Of course. Somewhere quiet, perhaps? If you like cake there's a bakery two roads up that does drinks too, less traffic than Starbucks.

[ And considerate. This may not have been the worst idea after all. She offers a brighter smile at the thought of somewhere peaceful. No gunfire, no hounding Double Ohs. ]

Thank you. I truly appreciate it.

[ She offers for him to lead the way, walking next to him with whatever distance they can spare on a crowded morning sidewalk. ]

Thank you, again, for your work. My home looks infinitely better.

[ He nods acceptance, takes the lead while still staying as much in step with her as he can. Lance has managed to master the art of walking down a street in London, though, so that people move out of his way when he confidently paces ahead rather than vice versa. He pauses at crossings rather than dashing across, patiently waiting with a hand gently on her arm until they turn green, then ushers her into the patisserie once they reach it -- glancing to make sure the four or so small tables are empty so they won't be disturbed.

He's discarded his half-drunk cheap Starbucks coffee somewhere along the way. It would be rude to walk into Paul's carrying someone else's coffee. Especially Starbucks.

Dropping his hand from her arm he offers her a faint smile and digs for his wallet. ]

What would you like?

[ She looks to him as if his hair has suddenly become pink when his arm is on hers. It's not something she's used to. Then again, so many of her interactions as of late are professional. Lancelot doesn't seem to be making a move. In fact, he hardly seems to notice his action at all.

She lets it slide. For now. Once inside and with his offer, she makes her order to the barista. ]

Hazelnut latte, please.

[ These cakes looked delicious, but she wouldn't want to impose on his kindness. She turns to him to see if he'll get something to replace the coffee he disposed of a moment ago. ]

A latte is fine, thank you.

[ He sets his card on the counter and offers her a small smile, gestures to the array of cake. ]

Have something if you like. To make up for your day. There are few things cake can't improve.

[ Trying to win her over with food could possibly work. He definitely is good at his little game. ]

You're too kind, Mr Dulac, really.

[ Probably a terrible idea for her teeth. Yet that chocolate cake is looking particularly tempting. ]

[ He lets out a soft, slightly self-conscious laugh at that and tilts his head playfully. ]

Well, if you're eating that means I can eat cake too without shame. You'd be doing me a favour, really.

[ She gives a smile of her own in return. It's really so difficult to grasp how a man this polite and good looking can be so shy. Yet, she herself - the type one would expect to be as such - and not a hint of it. Interesting.

One glance of her acquaintance and then back to the clerk. ]

The chocolate, please.

[ And as he inevitably either makes his order, pays, or both. ]

It's been quite some time since I've had anyone treat me. I think it's just the distraction I needed.

[ Lance smiles at her in pleasure, turns back long enough to gesture to the almond one himself and waits for it to be rung up before slipping his card into the reader to pay. ]

Too busy?

[ He glances sideways at her curiously, because he doesn't imagine he can be devoid of offers. The receipt starts to print out and he takes his card back, tucks it into his wallet and declines the scrap of paper before taking their cakes over to a free table -- smiling at the waitress as she follows a moment after to set down their coffee for them. ]

Well, I'm happy to be a distraction if you need it.

[ Q follows him when the business part is taken care of. It's nice to be able to sit down. There's a surprising lack of it in an IT dominate position such as hers. ]

You could say that.

[ Perhaps it is being too busy that causes the lack of offers. Dating within an office where no one is to know your name... She takes a sip of her coffee and already thankful he interrupted her. ]

Thank you, again. [ Q's always been less than wonderful at small talk. She has a feeling if left quiet long enough, he would fill in the silence for her. ] Has work been going well?

[ Oh, yes, very thrilling, Catherine. ]

[ He smiles again and shrugs a little, picking up his spoon to stir his own coffee idly. ]

Can't complain. I have a few jobs going, enough to keep me afloat.

[ Lance takes a sip of his drink, sets it down and smirks to himself -- remembering something. ]

One place, the owner has this cat -- biggest cat I've ever seen, incredible creature. Not... fond of strangers, I think. Or, not fond me me at least.

[ Gingerly, she places her own cup down. ]

I find that hard to believe.

[ Hm. Even she's not sure about that one. It is the truth. Still, she hadn't expected herself to be flirting so quickly. If that counted as flirting...

They're momentarily interrupted by their cake. It's going to take great will not to immediately devour it. It's only now that she has stopped to dwell on it that she realizes her stomach is empty. ]

[ Lancelot looks up,eyes widening a fraction, then drops his eyes again self-consciously and smiles a little in pleasure -- tugging his cake toward himself for something to do with his hands. ]

As I find it equally hard to believe that you are being treated as you should, Miss Bell.

Please, call me Catherine.

[ As formal as she could be, this was hardly the time and place. They were no longer client and worker, so why not leave it that.

Ah, how she could definitely enjoy the cake without seeming like a starved animal. It's quite delicious, but that's to be expected. ]

What makes you say that?

You said you had not been treated in some time.

[ He gestures with his spoon between the cake and coffee, shrugs a little. ]

If it makes you happy, it should be done more often.

[ As if it were so easy for her to find someone to treat her. Amusing. She gives him a smile, as if holding back a soft laugh. ]

I'm afraid my little black book is completely blank.

[ But she could probably find a few thanks to a certain co-worker. She takes another bite of cake between pauses. ]

Do you find yourself treating often?

[ She looks over the rim of her glasses with widely curious green eyes. Q does hate how a part of her wishes he would say no. ]

Good lord, no.

[ Lance gives a little self-conscious huff, rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. ]

Too busy singing to my grass and watching paint dry.

[ Although the slightly uncomfortable shift as he toys with his cake says it might not just be for lack of time. ]

[ His shyness must be what stops him from landing every skirt he comes across. That's the only explanation. Q herself is already considering making a few bold moves and she's barely said anything to him.

She gives a quiet chuckle as she places her coffee on the saucer. ]

Perhaps you should give your paint a grass a few days off now and again.

I'd like to. If I had company.

[ He darts his eyes up, gives a faint smile. ]

If I could, perhaps, pry you away from your computers for a while.

[ Well. She knew that it would come sooner or later. Wasn't expecting it quite so soon. She thinks for a moment, taking a sip of her tea. ]

I would like to, but...

[ Poor thing. He's probably expecting a polite decline. Q's willing to give him a shot. At least something friendly. ]

My job, as you probably noticed, is very demanding. We'd have to plan carefully.

[ He dims a little, ruefully resigned to rejection, but then the last thing she says makes him brighten a little once more. ]

Of course, I'm happy to. I know you're busy and work can be tiring, please -- don't feel you need to make some momentous effort. I will be content if you would come drink coffee with me again.

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