fandomtownies | The Perk, Monday Afternoon

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The Perk, Monday Afternoon

Her mother would probably have been disappointed in how she’d not attempted to... ‘have fun’... last week, even if, Rosalind supposed, if she grasped at straws, that talking to Jacob had been ‘fun’ in some sense of the word.

(Even if it absolutely hadn’t been, in her opinion. Hmph.)

In an attempt to prevent the feeling that her mother, who was watching over her, was disappointed any further, Rosalind, having a free day, took herself off to the Perk. Obtaining a coffee she took a seat, set her laptop up, and began attempting to formulate a list of what she thought her mother would consider fun and that Rosalind would be vaguely willing to attempt to fill that one-hour-a-week she’d promised she’d take to relax.

... The list was getting less attention than the people passing by on the street as Rosalind kept glancing at what few items she had and then sighing. People-watching was far simpler.

She probably couldn’t count it as fun, though. Even if it was a tempting thought to add it.

[Ooopen as a public place, yes!]

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After falling into mud earlier, Alex had gone back to the dorms, taken a long shower and tossed his clothes. That meant he was wet headed and smelling fresh when he wandered into the Perk, trying to get away from the damn cabins.

Fortunately for him, he spotted someone he knew and didn't actually mind talking to even if the conversations were more about one upping each other.

He shot her a look as he went to the counter, wanting to get something caffeinated before anything else.

Rosalind's eyebrows arched in subtle amusement at the look he gave her--did he count that as hello?--and leaned back in her chair to study the sidewalk outside while she wondered if she was supposed to call him over.

... He'd come over if he wanted to, she decided.

Not that she'd complain, really, as he'd be a distraction from her... list of 'fun'. Sigh.

After getting some coffee, he did eventually wandered over, leaning against the back of a chair idly.

"What's with the laptop?" he finally asked, glancing at it. "Work just too much fun to be contained to your alcove?"

She rolled her eyes.

“Working at a coffee shop is hardly an unusual thing,” Rosalind pointed out. “Are you going to sit?”

"Guess so," he said and did take a seat, stretching his legs out and smirking. "I don't go to coffee shops, how would I know? It's a girl thing and coffee's not really my favorite."

[Sneaking out to lunch brb!]

"And yet," she said dryly. "Here you are. In a coffee shop. With a coffee. Are you a girl today, then?"

"There are always exceptions to the rule," he pointed out, shrugging. "Besides, I've been a girl before. You missed that bit of fuckery."

Exceptions to the rule to be sure, but Rosalind preferred to think he was getting in touch with his feminine side.

Her eyes were mildly amused--more at her thoughts than at what he was saying.

"Lucky me," she said, deadpan. "To be a girl everyday."

She knew what he meant, but it wasn't what he'd said.

"You say that now and tomorrow, you'll wake up a guy," he said sweetly, smirking. "And being a girl is nothing to be grateful for, I don't think. You guys have too many fucking parts."

“Only to someone as simple as you are,” she replied archly. “Our number parts are perfect for our bodies.”

"You're in a pleasant mood this morning," Alex remarked, leaning back and shaking his head. "Don't call me simple."

Her lips twisted--genuinely amused.

"And yet I can call you a girl?" Rosalind shook her head. "I'll refrain from insulting your intelligence so long as you do not give me cause to."

She arched one eyebrow. "Fair?"

"If you call me simple again, I'll get pissed," he said, matching her arched eyebrow with one of his own. "I don't care if you call me girl, everyone knows that's not true."

Simple was a little bit of a stinger and, considering things lately, he didn't want to hear it. "There's no need to insult me period. I didn't do anything."

"Are you feeling quite alright?" she asked, eyebrows drawing in slightly and actually meaning that.

And not bothering to actually express that.

As well as sliding right over the fact that she'd treated him worse, in her opinion, for less reaction. That was... interesting.

Something to remember.

"I fell in some fucking mud this morning but otherwise, I'm swell," he lied, pasting on a wide yet fake smile. It didn't last long before he was shaking his head. "I'm fine, don't worry about it. How are you?"

"You're not convincing," she informed him haughtily but, for the moment, allowed him to steer the conversation away from himself.

And yes, she would worry about it.

"Stymied," she added. Then didn't elaborate. Bravo, Rosalind.

"Stymied?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Are you some seamstress spinster from the forties? Who says stymied anymore?"

She pursed her lips.

"I'm terribly sorry you've sunk so low as to mock my speech," Rosalind said, oh so kindly. "It must be hard, you're trying too hard."

"Sunk?" he snorted, shaking his head. "I've been this low since I was born. There's no sinking to be bad. I'm just...here. Welcome to join me but it's probably too dirty for you."

"Indeed," she said, smirking. "I've done my time in the dirt. I'll not go back to it."

And that was true.

"Why not?" Alex wondered. "You too good for getting down and dirty now?"

"Wrong sort of dirt," she clarified. Slightly. "And it wouldn't suit me."

She tilted her head at him.

"Could you seriously picture that of me?"

"If the situation called for it," he said and shrugged a shoulder. "Why not? I'm sure you could slum it if something was important enough to you."

Her lips twitched.

"I cannot think of a situation that would be important enough for me to do so."

"Really." It wasn't a question but he sounded skeptical all the same. "Got some ice around your heart, don't you?"

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