fandomtownies | Taste of Thai, Wednesday Evening

Ariel, on the other hand, was a lady, so it just went naturally that she was late. Not overly so, of course. Tastefully, although, really, it hadn't been intentional, it just sort of happened. Since pink so far had been doing her no favors and this was a new guy, a new potential dating sphere, she'd ditched the usual color scheme and went with blue (http://www.bluefly.com/Tadashi-Shoji-cobalt-jersey-asymmetric-ruched-sheath-dress/PDP_CROSS_SELL/308357101/detail.fly).

She sort of rushed in the door but, once through it, instantly put on a facade of casual meandering that showed no concern for her tardiness as her blue eyes scanned the room for Christian. Just like, when she spotted him, her reaction betrayed her for a second, lighting up with her usual cheer before banishing it to a well-practiced nonchalantly pleased expression as she went to join him.

And blue was suddenly, miraculously, Christian's favorite color. He didn't have nearly so easy a time hiding his grin as she did, and he held out the flowers as she approached.

"You look lovely," he said. (Legs! he still wasn't over the fact dresses here all showed legs) "And these are for you. I'm so very glad to see you!"

The maitre d' cleared his throat, unimpressed with the young'us crowding his foyer.

How happy Ariel would be to know that he enjoyed those legs, what with what they were ohere. And oh, you had better believe that Ariel was making sure the maitre d' understood that she was just as thoroughly unimpressed with him, as well. She knew what these waiter types were like. And if they thought they were going to screw up this date, too, well, they were wrong.

But the warning glare didn't last for long, as there were compliments and flowers being handed out! Areil beamed, feeling ever more grateful for having a job that allowed to pick out the best clothes before anyone else could buy them, and bowed her head a little in gratitude for Christian's compliment and took an appreciative sniff of the nosegay.

Since she couldn't exactly return the compliment in the same fashion, Ariel just took a moment to pass her eyes over Christian in an appraising (and, she thought, noteably unsisterly) way, nodding and grinning her approval back.

"Oh, I'm glad," Christian said, grinning back at her as he looked down at himself. He was still getting used to modern clothes, but he had to admit the cut of this outfit made him look taller and older. (Or as much taller and older as he ever would, anyhow.) They made a handsome couple.

The maitre d' unceremoniously seated them near the kitchen entrance, and Christian scowled a bit as the man left. "You would think," he said, in a low tone, "that he didn't know we meant to give him money."

Ariel rolled her eyes a moment, waving a dismissive hand after the maitre d', with a heavy sigh that pushed up her bangs. Because wait staff in this town, oh man. If she could tell Christian about how disappointing they were, she would. But, as it were, she didn't want to waste paper space that could be used for sweet nothings on a rant, so she left it at that as she settled into her seat. She shrugged a shoulder, in a gesture she hoped was particularly cute, and smiled, in a way of showing that it really didn't matter if they were awful; the company would surely make up for it.

It was particularly cute, and had the possibly intended effect of drawing a smile out of Christian. "You're right," he said. "He's nothing to us. No doubt he has a sick dog at home and that's where his mind is."

He opened the menu, eyes not leaving Ariel. "I've never had Siamese cuisine before, have you?"

Any thoughts about how the maitre d' probably would be more the type to kick a sick puppy than care for one left Ariel when she noticed how he kept looking at her even as he opened the menu, and it was impossible not to be encouraged by something like that, oh my gosh. She could feel the incredibly pleased smile creeping onto her face, and had to actually duck her head behind her own menu for a moment to make her giggle far less obvious. He was just way too cute. Her silence helped her in that, no doubt, and, once she thought she recovered, she went ahead and peeked over the edge back at him, eyes nice and big and dancing as she slowly shook her head. She did draw in a deep breath, though, closing her eyes and seeming to savor the aromas, though, to let him know that it had be good, with how it smelled so delicious.

"We'll explore it together," he said, and he certainly was not trying to play footsie with her under the table. Any motion of his feet toward hers was entirely incidental.

Honest.

Ariel really was entirely too cute when she widened her eyes like that, and he smiled one more time before, reluctantly, glancing down at the menu. "What did you think of the trip to Baltimore over the weekend?" he asked, by way of making conversation. "I loved the zoo, especially the penguins."

Ariel had never had feet before; therefor, footsie was a completely foreign concept to her. The surprise of any clearly non-footsie related movements of feet on the side of one party involving the feet on the side of the second party, however, still showed briefly on her face with lifted eyebrows. What was...? Must have been an accident or something, what with not being able to see your feet under the table, but she found herself wanting the accident happen again, and may have tried to arrange her feet so that they just so happened to potentially be in the way again...

She bit her lip, taking a moment to consider the menu. Just a brief moment. It was all so foreign to her that she wouldn't know what she was ordering, anyway, so she'd just randomly pick when the waiter came around, and put her focus more into trying to hold a conversation. She set down the menu, pulled out her pink poufy pen which had been in her little matching handbag, and then a little notebook. She had to flip through several pages of scribbles and smiley faces and hearts and other doodles before finding a blank one.

"I thought it was amazing!!!! The penguins were so cute and I bought a lot of souvenirs, and rode a camel! And birds! All those birds!"

Even if none of them seemed to be able to talk like Scuttle. Ariel finished her message and slid it across the table, over by Christian's elbow, fingers hesitating before sh decided to have them oh-so-accidentally brush against that elbow before retreating.

Footsie was, of course, completely undignified and inappropriately forward. That was why Christian only let his feet bump up against hers another three or five times. More than that could not be passed off as an accident.

He'd already decided what to order, picking a dish with as many peppers as possible simply because they seemed colorful, and he was curious.

"You rode a camel?" he echoed, feeling the warmth from her fingertips course through his arm long after the touch ended. "What was that like? I've never even seen one in person before. They seem so very -- bumpy."

Just enough to raise just an inkling of suspicion, and enough to make Ariel decide that having feet was awesome. Even if it was only an accident, she could not look down on any additional contact and touching.

"It was totally bumpy! Absolutely nothing like riding a horse. But kind of like a jet ski, but less damp."

There had been, as she wrote it, a pause before she wrote horse. Distracted as she was by Christian's unignorable adorableness, she hadn't been paying attention to what she was writing, and almost wrote whales. That would have been difficult to try to explain! So she went with something that seemed much more human, though she'd never ridden a horse before, and hoped to move away from it with mention of the jet ski, which she had. Thank you, Mr. Bond.

"And now you have me wishing I'd been brave enough to try it,"Christian nodded briefly. He hadn't been on a horse in some time, but it seemed a perfectly reasonable comparison to him, except ...

"I don't know what a jet ski is," he admitted. "Should I?"

Ariel's eyebrows lifted in a clear expression of what her answer was going to be well before she wrote it.

"Of course! They're incredible! We got to ride them in my Maritime Safety class, and, oh my gosh, I'll have to find out if I can get one. It would be an excellent second date."

Yes, she was assuming there would be a second date. Why wouldn't there be? Even if her goal was accomplished today, she still wouldn't mind at all, especially if it involved not only Christian, but more jet skis.

Christian smiled at the assumption. He hadn't been so ready to already plan on a second date, but if things kept going as well as they had been, why not?

"I'd like that," he said. "I'm not much of a swimmer, though. You'll have to keep me safe."

Ariel could only grin widely at that, eyes dancing.

"Sure thing. I love the water. And don't worry. I fall off a lot myself, so you don't have to feel bad if you do, too."

"We can fall off together," Christian laughed. "It'd all be very dignified, wouldn't it? Of course, we'd have to keep the jet skis from floating away..."

He shook his head. "It would be an adventure."

The waiter came by. Christian ordered almost at random, eyes still not leaving Ariel.

And Ariel was thinking of how perfect that might be, falling off a jet ski together, and they'd have to hold onto each other to help get back to shore, and then, on the warm sand of the beach, drenched and exhausted, but oh so grateful...

Ariel was in the middle of transitioning from that thought, eyes locked on Christian's as must as possible as she tried to take a moment to measure distances and timings and when might be the perfect moment (because she's screwed up so many so far, it had to be perfect!). Of course that would be when the waiter would show up! She was not so good at maintaining eye contact after that, having to at least give the man an annoyed look, a requesite for these dates, and sighed a bit, regarding the menu again, and pointing at...something. Hopefully something good, but she didn't care, and shoved the menu toward the waiter so he could take one less thing from between her and Christian away and they could get right back to where they started. She looked at him, smiled, tilted her head. Where were they?

Where were they? Jet skis, but he'd about exhausted that topic, and ... was it actually possible for eyes to be as large and blue as Ariel's were right then? It wasn't, and yet there they were.

"I don't think I told you," he said, resting his fingers on the table in hopes she'd reach over and take his hand, "how much your poem meant to me. It was simply extraordinary. I can hardly believe you care so much."

Edited 2010-07-01 13:55 (UTC)

So he did get it! Ariel's eyes had to have just gotten larger and bluer right then; if not, then it certainly would seem that way with the new burst of excitement behind them. Her shoulders went up, a modest sort of gesture to balance out the beaming pride in grin.

She didn't know why she was feeling surprised; she knew it was excellent work. She had at least three other girl tell her so, and she didn't even need that.

But knowing it had hit the mark meant that now Ariel could play bashful a little, turning the lifted shoulders into a bit of a shrug. Well, y'know, and lower her head a little.

Then peek over at him and smile.

Christian hadn't thought she could possibly get cuter ... and then she did. The coy but proud look was simply amazing.

"I liked the bit about your heart being like a sea anemone," he added. "That's such an unusual metaphor, but a lovely one. What made you think of it?"

Ariel bit her lip a little, part of her smile, but also to make herself take the time in thinking about an answer. She had to be careful; she really didn't know how Christian might respond to something like well, I grew up in sea because I was a mermaid up until recently.

It was just really hard to judge things like that!

So she went with writing, with some careful thought and at least one moment of poof-ball pen chin-tapping, "Like I said, I just love the sea! And flowers up on land are pretty, sure, but nothing like a sea anemone, the way the water pushes it along. You can't get that with land flowers. None that I've seen, anyway. Constantly flowing...~~sort of~~ exactly like my admiration for you when I see your smile."

She was particularly proud of that last bit; his mentioning the poem made her want to become more lyrical again. Especially if that was the key.

He'd assume she was being metaphorical, of course. Fandom had many strange things in it, but literal mermaids hadn't really crossed Christian's mind as a possibility.

Besides, she couldn't be one! She had legs!

"Whereas your smile makes my heart feel like a balloon," Christian parried. "Warming my heart and lifting me up, up, up, into the blue. Be careful -- I'm liable to float away."

Laughing both with amusement and over just how cute that was, Ariel gave her head an insistent shake. She leaned forward a little, reaching up into the air with one arm, and snatching it, pretending it was him on his way up, up, up, into the blue, and she pulled him back in.

She would have really loved it if she could have actually done that, reached over, pulled him back down to earth and good and close to her, but that was the problem with these dinner dates. Tables. Which is exactly why plans for scoring a jet ski for another one were starting to germinate in the back of her mind.

Christian laughed. "Unless I floated so high that I just lifted you with me," he suggested, lifting one of his hands above the table by way of demonstration. "Maybe we'd both just float. Maybe being together would give us wings like angels."

Maybe his poetic flight of fancy would carry Christian away.

It could definitely be enough to carry them both, too, but Ariel was loving it, still giggling as she scribbled something down, sliding it over, leaving her hand decidedly resting on his side of the table.

"And just imagine the view! We could see the whole island, and the sea, and probably even more!"

Ariel's own imagination was getting the best of her, too, thinking about it, thinking how incredible it would be if something like that could actually happen, and then she'd have explored the very bottom of the sea and the very top of the sky, and everything in between. She sighed, cradling her other hand against her chin, and smiling across the table at Christian.

"We could fly into space!" Christian enthused, and had the sense not to add like I did with Leia.

He smiled at Ariel's dreamy expression "You can imagine it too, I can tell. I never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone who doesn't talk."

Well...Smirking wryly, Ariel lifted up her pen and sort of waved it in the air a little bit, because, really, they owed a lot to it in that regard.

"You say so much with your eyes, though," Christian observed, "You have a very expressive face."

Strange how he was mostly looking at her lips while he said that. As soon as there wasn't the table between them, he was going to find out how Ariel felt about kissing before engagement.

The table really was a problem. Especially since the food still hadn't showed up.

While not okay about the table, Ariel was perfectly content with the food taking its time. The arrival of waiters always complicated things, in her experrience. She was far too captivated by finding out more of what Christian might think of her and her expressive face (an odd compliment, but she was going tot ake it and run), and so those eyes that said so much become very attentive on his own eyes, eyebrows lifted, did he really think so?

Christian laughed at how eager she was. "I could get lost in them," he told her (which was a little more normal as a compliment). "If mine are azure pools, yours are the entire ocean."

"And your smile is like the sun."

On a less poetic note, Ariel had added: "Seriously, though, it's fantastic, and I don't think I've seen it leave your face since I got here."

"Can I help if you make me happy?" Christian asked rhetorically, and was interrupted from a further flight of fancy as the food arrived.

Christian looked at the dishes in the center of the table. "... I'm not sure which is mine," he admitted. "I think I got something with noodles."

Ariel might have stared at the dishes a little more if it weren't for the fact that, oh my gosh, their aroma. The moment they were set in front of her, she couldn't help be distracted. All of the wonderful smells of the restaurant seemed intensified, and she couldn't help closing her eyes, leaning in, and waving a hand toward her nose as if to usher them in and fully and completely enjoy it. She grinned at Christian after she'd had her moment, and pointed down to a plate on her left. That one, she decided, was hers. It smelled the best.

Christian was perfectly happy to accept the one she'd rejected; it smelled of ginger and had dozens of small, green peppers in the mix. He took some rice, then a hungry scoop of the dish, which he held to his nose befor eputting it in his mouth.

Then he chewed. Winced. Chewed some more. Swallowed, went for a sip of water, and tried to smile as if nothing were the matter.

"It's good," he decided, once his mouth was no longer on fire. "Hotter than I'm used to, but ... good."

Ariel, who had considered using her fork and everything because that was how this whole thing popped up in the first place, hesitated, and just couldn't do it, and found herself going for chopsticks instead. Not quite a master yet, it took some doing, but that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Because that meant when Christian took his bite, hers was just poised and ready for her mouth.

Now she really hesitated, seeing a reaction right that, but maybe it was more proof that she'd chosen the good one. So in went the food, and down went her mouth.

Ariel coughed a little, like she was clearing her throat, taking a few slow mastications and wondering how in the world food could make your eyes water like this. But there it was.

Hello, water, my old friend. Ariel sipped it delicately...if delicately could be done when downing half a glass.

"... they don't stint on the spices, do they?" Christian said, eyes watering, as he finished off his glass of water and a few big bites of white rice on top of it. He'd stick with the fork -- he had no idea how the stick things worked. "I think I just need to get used to it."

Oh, Christian. So pretty, so doomed.

Ariel's watery-eyed look across the table was a tumultuous blend of hope and concern. That had to be it. It was just so new, for both of them, but it was, underneath the shock of the heat, still tasty. It sort of...warmed in the mouth. The next bite. The next bite might not be so...

...nope. Still very, very hot. Ariel's mouth formed a little o, pushing out a breath as if that could help. Since it wasn't, her hand then went up and started to fan. Not much luck there, either, though, unfortunately.

"I --" Christioan was desperate for something to say, so he went with something inane. "I didn't realize it would be like this. Are you all right? Can I help?"

He was manfully ignoring the fact that his own mouth still seemed to be on fire.

Ariel's eyebrows furrowed. Help with what? A fire hose?

Christian flailed. "I don't know! We'd figure it out." He reached with a napkin to try to swipe at Ariel's mouth for some reason, not noticing his arm was on the verge of knocking that beautiful-but-spicy noodles dish into her lap.

Somehow, all the efforts to make things better seemed to make them worse, and Ariel, suddenly fluttered at an approaching napkin, did absolutely nothing to help with that threat of a falling plate.

It made a wonderful pufft noise when it did, though. There was brief second where Ariel's eyes just widened, right before jolting up to her feet and trying to push the unfortunate food to the floor because not only was it hot spicy, it was hot hot, and she was in a short dress.

Christian yelped in surprise and, cursing under his breath, used the napkin to try to blot her off.

Unfortunately, he was mostly smearing food over her dress. And possibly under her dress.

Which meant that a very interesting array of reactions was now going on for Ariel. Mostly, though, it just turned into some squirming, some giggling because who would have thought inner thighs could be sensitive to tickling? Certainly not someone who never had inner thighs before, and, desperate for a spot of sanity in this chaos, her hands went down to stop Christian's, because they were not helping.

The touch of her hands made Christian realize how far his had wondered, and he flushed crimson as he pulled his hands away. "Forgive me!" he said. "That was -- most improper."

Fairly flushed herself, though she was feeling it was for entirely different reasons, Ariel shook her head. No, no, no, not at all, he was only trying to help...And, besides, now, he was very close, and he had both his hands, and...Ariel bit her lip, starting to feel as though it wasn't just the food that was hot right now.

"I'm going," Christian said, feeling as if his voice were coming from a million miles away, "to kiss you now."

And then he ducked his head to lean in.

And those were, at that moment, precisely the words Ariel realized she wanted to hear. With Christian's hands in hers, and him so close, she realized that her heart had all but stopped and she'd almost entirely forgotten that her dress was probably ruined with food or that her mouth had so recently been melting.

Almost, because while Ariel's brain was elsewhere, her body was not. It seemed that, at the exact moment she closed her eyes and stretched forward to meet Christian's incoming lips, that first bite had reached the first leg of the digestive system, and it did not at all like the looks of the trail. So a part of it chose just at that exact moment to go back the way it came.

Two seconds. If it had waited two second longer, Ariel would have kissed Christian, and then she would have broken the spell, and it would have been incredible. But, alas, it was not meant to be, because Ariel's stomach wasn't meant to handle Thai food and, in a moment of sheer horror, Ariel found she actually had to pull away, actually turn her head away and not kiss him.

Because otherwise that cute little burp would have went right in his face.

And with that cute little burp, the moment was broken -- especially since what felt like the restaurant's entire wait staff was descending on them to swab off the table and offer Ariel moist towelettes.

Christian laughed a bit as he stepped back. He still wanted to kiss her -- rather desperately, in fact -- but the moment was rather clearly not with them. (Especially given his own digestive systems' response to Thai food, which is better imagined than described.)

"Rain check," he said feebly. "It'll be worth waiting for."

Taste of Thai, Wednesday Evening

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