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Outback Steakhouse: Tuesday Evening

Lindsay would never admit to anyone that she was a nervous wreck but in preparing for having a dinner (Dinner. It was dinner right? Or was this a thing? Jesus, was this a thing? Oh crap what if this is a thing?) she had gone through five outfits before deciding on the sixth which was just a nice set of slacks, blouse and a jacket.

Of course now that she was here she was cursing herself under her breath for not wearing a skirt and fidgeting. Not that she'd want to admit to anyone that she was fidgeting.

[OOC: Lindsay is here for Ronon but public place, yadda yadda yadda]

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He realized as soon as he saw her that he probably should have gotten more dressed up than jeans and long sleeved t-shirt. Of course, he was obviously trying given he wasn't clad in all leather for the evening.

But hey, she was cute when she fidgeted and he couldn't stop himself from smirking in amusement. "You're cute when you fidget."

"Thanks," She said with a smile. "That'll probably make me nervous and fidget even more."

Where the hell did that come from?

"You look pretty hot yourself," she said wondering where the hell her brain to mouth filter went and started to get flustered. "Let's sit down shall we? I so need a drink right now to calm me down."

What the hell is wrong with me?

Ronon snorted in amusement. "Thanks, I did my best to look hot," though he didn't know why he was admitting that now.

"There a lot of things that make you nervous?" He continued to smile as he led her to a table.

Lindsay was flailing a little (Just internally though) as she took her seat. "Me? Not usually. It's mostly. Because. I really haven't had a date in two years because of my divorce and the fact that I was obsessed with a case regarding a serial killer which pretty much ruined my social life. And for some reason I keep babbling on about stuff without meaning to and BOY do I need to shut up."

Ronon chuckled, "No, don't shut up. The more you talk the less I have to." That was...a little too honest.

"Oh, sure," she said with a chuckle, "because that means I'm going to start babbling about my ex-husband and why we broke up and how I slept with him even though he was engaged to someone else. So you better start talking ot ther's no chance in hell you'd want to go on another date with me."

"Right," he laughed, "because hearing how I was a Runner for the Wraith for seven years after they destroyed my world and I've barely gotten a grip on making connections with people who aren't my team will really make you want to come back to the basement with me after dinner. But hey, sleeping with your ex is still getting sex."

It was as if everything he'd planned on not saying was coming out.

"That's okay because I have no idea what you said means," Lindsay said looking around for a waiter because damn did she need a drink. "And even if I do go back to your basement I'm only going to be willing to make out with you and probably let you cop a feel. Oh, God I need to shut up. Waiter! I need a drink in the vain hope that'll shut me up!"

Ronon choked, "I think we both need a drink if this is going to get as far as anyone copping a feel. Maybe a really big steak, too."

"Yes. Food. Drink. Good," she said hoping that maybe just speaking like a caveman would stop her from talking.

"What's a runner and what does it have to do with Wraiths? Because I have no idea and I'm very nosy."

So much for that idea.

"Remember how you don't believe I'm from another planet?" Ronon replied with a little 'I told you so' sort of look. "Well, the Wraith are like space vampires who suck the life out of your chest through their hand and their idea of a fun sport is sticking a tracking chip in my back and chasing me across the galaxy. Still glad you're nosy?"

"Yes, because even though it makes you sound nuts you know have an air of mystery about you that I find attractive," Lindsay babbled and then followed that up with a groan. "Oh look the waiter is here. Please give me a double martini and a giant hamburger to shove in my mouth so I can stop talking."

"I'll have your biggest steak, rare and a dark beer to wash it down," Ronon's smile at the waiter was more of nonverbal shooing. "Don't stop talking, your frustrated groans are hot and I'm hoping to hear more. Tell me about your serial-killer obsession."

Lindsay flushed and flailed a little in embarrassment. "Stop calling me hot! It's throwing me off! And the serial killer was this guy we called the Kiss-Me-Not killer who would kidnap girls, mutilate their bodies and pose them in bizarre ways with their mouth sewn shut. I became so obsessed with catching the guy I let my marriage fall to pieces and got a bad reputation in the department for being crazy about catching him. Don't I sound like a complete whack-job? Where the hell is my drink?"

"Woah, sounds like the killer was the whack-job," Ronon said, glancing at the bar in an effort of knowing what was taking so long. "You solve the case or just drive everyone off trying?"

"No," she said bitterly, "he dropped off the face of the planet and everyone gave up except me. I kept after the A-hole and even set my attic up with copies of all the case evidence so I could obsess over it in my free time."

And finally the drink arrived. "Oh thank God. So are you sill on the run from those hand sucker guys?"

"That sounds rough, but there's nothing wrong with obsession," he told her, pausing to take a drink of his beer.

"And there's no more running for me. I got my revenge on the scum who tracked me a couple years back. Now I fight the Wraith with your military. 'S why I'm supposed to be blending in." His grin was wide, knowing he didn't blend at all.

"Yes because you so don't blend at all," she said rolling her eyes. "And if you're in the military what the hell are you doing on this island?"

"You're gonna regret asking this stuff soon," Ronon warned, already knowing he wasn't going to be able to hold it back. "Got stuck on Earth chasing after the Wraith during an attack. Now I'm waitin' for them to clear me to go back to my team, but that's only part of the fun since some messed up version of my team's here, taking my class, and it turns out a day here equals about a minute there, and do you see what I meant about regret?"

Lindsay shook her head and sighed. "There are times I think this island is just trying to fuck with my head. Seriously? One day here is a minute there? That's insane and I'm probably going to refuse to believe it just so I can pretend I have a normal life here."

"I'm positive the island's fucking with all of us," Ronon said. "Just don't know why yet. 'Course the weird part's how I don't always mind."

"You like it?" Lindsay asked. "Because it drives me nuts. Then again you probably didn't have your pet turn human and insist on snuggling with you."

"I don't like it, but I also don't have a pet," he said. "There was one day where I thought I was some woman named Cher and went on a singing spree with Princess, not that you needed to know that or that you will ever repeat it. Aaaand I thought you said the drinks would stop this talking thing?"

And there was a good deal of laughing right now.

"I said that food would keep our mouths shut," she said when she was able to speak. "The booze is to help us get numb to the situation."

"There's no numb when you've got fishnets, a leather leotard, and stilettos in the back of your closet and you did not hear that!" Ronon had never mentally flailed before so he chugged his drink to stop the words.

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