[ He drops his tools again once the last plug is free of the wall, dusts himself down a second time as she answers and offers a rueful smile as he steps over to take the tea. ]
I suppose we are both stuck as we are, then. Do you like it? Your job.
[ If she likes it then he supposes it doesn't matter, after all. ]
[ Once his is out of her hands, she can begin to drink her own.
He's awfully chatty, this one. Q supposes it could be worse. He hasn't made any obvious passes. He hasn't been rude. Actually, he's been very lovely so far. ]
I love my job. [ She says with a brighter smile than any before. ] I wake up every morning exhausted and happy.
[ Half an observation and half a question. Oh, why not. He's definitely handsome and charming. She's had little exposure to simple small talk as of late.
[ Lance lets out a soft huff of laughter at that, meets her apologetic smile with a warm one and shrugs a little. ]
Not at all. If I did, it would be easier -- but, it seems I have yet to find my inspiration. Perhaps fate still has something in store for me, just not now.
[ He sets aside his tea carefully, picks up the poly-filler and examines the screw holes carefully before setting to work. ]
[ She actually laughs. It's more of a quiet giggle, really, but that most definitely counts. More than she's laughed in ages.
She's got a more important question for him. Not that she's considering to be that answer. It's looking less and less ridiculous. Besides, no one said the dreaded four letter word yet. ]
[ He is very good. Managed to get her to laugh and to laugh again. She might almost be relaxed. It's very hard not to trust him. Some part of her espionage training, along with generally not always perfect results with men, is telling her not to.
Q gives a sympathetic nod. ]
The gym, for me. Not much else. A job full of computers to come home to... More computers.
[ At least the second half is play rather than work. But, speaking of, her phone starts to go off. M's calling and she lets out a quiet sigh at it. ]
[ A few yes sirs and one held back sigh later and Q has been called to duty. At least this seems to be a minor problem. Why it's not a minor problem the perfectly capable Quartermaster team can handle, she does not know.
She returns to him. ]
I'm afraid I'll have to let you have all the fun. Duty calls. [ And now have a bright and sincere smile. ] It was a pleasure, Mr. Dulac.
The pleasure was all mine. I hope we cross paths again.
[ There's still quite a bit of painting to do, after all, and -- well. He would quite like to see her again. If nothing else, just to enjoy her company.
He is not, exactly, a complicated man. Company is something he craves, in whatever form he can get it. Company and perhaps a little romance.
Lance grew up wanting to be a knight, after all. Anyone who didn't expect him to be romantic was deluding themselves. ]
Edited (bracket where did you go) 2014-05-17 00:36 (UTC)
[ Another polite smile and even she is not sure how sincere that hope is. It is not easy to get under her skin. Lancelot has at least sparked an interest.
Well, there is more painting to be done. More chance meetings early in the morning. She can't say the company will be terrible. Unfortunately, it has to be called short for now. She leaves him to his work for her own. Perhaps it was fate... Q had started to let some of her romantic guard down. ]
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. ]
[ 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.
[ 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. ]
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I suppose we are both stuck as we are, then. Do you like it? Your job.
[ If she likes it then he supposes it doesn't matter, after all. ]
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He's awfully chatty, this one. Q supposes it could be worse. He hasn't made any obvious passes. He hasn't been rude. Actually, he's been very lovely so far. ]
I love my job. [ She says with a brighter smile than any before. ] I wake up every morning exhausted and happy.
[ A pause for a sip. ]
And you?
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It pays the bills, and I like the variety in it. I get to meet a lot of people, see a lot of places. That's good enough for now, I think.
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[ Half an observation and half a question. Oh, why not. He's definitely handsome and charming. She's had little exposure to simple small talk as of late.
Another sip to her own tea as he responds. ]
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[ He drops his eyes a moment, staring into his tea before he looks up again to clarify. ]
I don't know what I want. I envy people who do, if I'm honest.
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And a small apologetic smile. ]
Do you have anything to go on other than sword fighting and rescuing damsels?
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Not at all. If I did, it would be easier -- but, it seems I have yet to find my inspiration. Perhaps fate still has something in store for me, just not now.
[ He sets aside his tea carefully, picks up the poly-filler and examines the screw holes carefully before setting to work. ]
Do you have the day off, then?
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She toasts her tea to his good luck before her next sip. She makes sure to keep out of the way, but definitely not retreating. ]
Yes, actually. Should I leave you to it?
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[ He scrapes the excess smooth and sets aside the paste, grabs up a screwdriver to lever open a can of paint. ]
Although if you have things to be doing, please, don't let me keep you. I imagine watching someone paint is not much better than watching it dry.
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She finishes up her tea. ]
No, actually. I keep too busy to have much company myself. We're very thrilling, aren't we?
[ She pauses. ]
Unless you have a thrilling night job helping grass grow.
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[ He jerks an eyebrow at her, flicks a playful smile as he tips a little paint into the roller's tray and catches the excess before it drips. ]
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She's got a more important question for him. Not that she's considering to be that answer. It's looking less and less ridiculous. Besides, no one said the dreaded four letter word yet. ]
Nothing else to occupy your time with?
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[ He pauses in the act of rolling paint onto the wall, covering sickly green with a nice neutral cream. ]
... That was a joke, by the way. I don't sing to my grass.
[ Lance moves to carry on, expression perfectly schooled. ]
Just the house plants.
[ Is this also a joke? It is a mystery. It could equally be true. ]
I do T'ai Chi twice a week, but I'm afraid that's as much excitement as I get.
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Q gives a sympathetic nod. ]
The gym, for me. Not much else. A job full of computers to come home to... More computers.
[ At least the second half is play rather than work. But, speaking of, her phone starts to go off. M's calling and she lets out a quiet sigh at it. ]
Speaking of, excuse me, would you?
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[ He quirks a smile, turns his eyes back to the wall and focuses on keeping the paint even.
Lance might start humming under his breath after a few seconds or so. Without a radio or someone to talk to it's sort of habit. ]
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She returns to him. ]
I'm afraid I'll have to let you have all the fun. Duty calls. [ And now have a bright and sincere smile. ] It was a pleasure, Mr. Dulac.
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[ There's still quite a bit of painting to do, after all, and -- well. He would quite like to see her again. If nothing else, just to enjoy her company.
He is not, exactly, a complicated man. Company is something he craves, in whatever form he can get it. Company and perhaps a little romance.
Lance grew up wanting to be a knight, after all. Anyone who didn't expect him to be romantic was deluding themselves. ]
no subject
[ Another polite smile and even she is not sure how sincere that hope is. It is not easy to get under her skin. Lancelot has at least sparked an interest.
Well, there is more painting to be done. More chance meetings early in the morning. She can't say the company will be terrible. Unfortunately, it has to be called short for now. She leaves him to his work for her own. Perhaps it was fate... Q had started to let some of her romantic guard down. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
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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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
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