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Fast Eddie's ; Wednesday Evening

Sam couldn't really remember the last time he'd had an actual date. There hadn't been time or really even the motivation over the last few months between getting kidnapped, getting tortured, learning who he was, and then killing the man who'd revealed all that. He'd just been a little too busy to bother with dates.

He at least remembered enough about previous dates to know that he had to make himself look presentable (which he did) and he had to show up slightly early (which he was). He'd never been into Fast Eddie's before so he spent a few minutes just looking around before he found his way over to a pinball game that caught his attention.

Maybe it was the skull and crossbones. Maybe it wasn't. Whatever it was, Sam fed the machine a few quarters and started to play it while he waited for his date. She didn't seem like a bowling person so he assumed that it would be food and video games for the both of them.

As long as he didn't have to wear a tie, this date was golden.

[Sam's waiting for someone but Fast Eddie's is an open place in town, as always]

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There really was no reason to wear a tie, he could rest assured, because Natalie wasn't exactly a fan of too much formality either. Still, she'd worn her hair open and down, for once, only pulled back from her face with a few pins. And her shirt may have been just a bit girlier than what she tended to wear, but other that that... Presentable but not fancy.

She was pretty timely, too. He didn't have to wait long before she was sidling up to him. "Ooh, pinball."

At her arrival, Sam glanced over at her quickly before something banged or buzzed on the game and his attention went right back to trying to save his poor pinball from disappearing.

"Yeah, and it's kicking my ass," he said, smacking at the buttons to get his controllers moving and even knocking a hip against the machine like that might help. "I am not a pinball wizard."

"Apparently not," Natalie replied, raising an amused eyebrow as she peered over at the game. "I would even go as far as to say you suck at it."

Sam snickered and smacked one of the buttons again to send the ball spinning back up towards the top of the game. Hey, at least he hadn't died. Yet.

"Your way with words astounds me," he said, glancing over at her. "You think you could do better."

She probably could. She was the self proclaimed gamer. And he was the gigantic slacker who didn't own a video game system.

"I probably could," Natalie agreed. She wasn't even that much of a gamer, but there were certain aptitudes that came with being from where she was.

She took an idle glance around the place and wondered whether that was why this place had a... slightly homey feel to it, to her. "I don't like being bested by machines."

"You make it sound like that's happened before," he said, glancing over at her long enough that his poor, poor pinball disappeared between his two controllers and the game made the requisite 'game over' noise.

"Well, I'm dead," he said, giving the side of the game a smack before turning towards her. "So, hey there."

"Everyone who's played any of these games has inevitably lost a time or two," she noted, shrugging a shoulder, before she quirked the tiniest of lopsided smiles at him. "Hey."

"Machines best me all the time. I lose to vending machines," Sam shared, tilting his head at her. "How's it going? Did you have to sing a song in class today? I did."

Jamie Madrox was insane. Insaaaaaaaane.

"I don't have class on Wednesdays." And she probably wouldn't have agreed to a date on a day where she had a class, anyway, though she didn't say that out loud. She just looked faintly amused. "What'd you sing?"

"I have no idea," he said, shaking his head. "It was for Jamie Madrox's class. We were singing to some other professor and it was a song about bunnies or something. Highlight of my day so far. Really, I don't even know if anything can top the experience of wearing a robe, a fake braid and singing."

"What an amazing thing to say to your date," Natalie deadpanned, not meaning it in the slightest. She just wasn't good at outright joking. "If I'd known, I would have at least brought props."

"Do you actually have props?" Sam wondered. He didn't think so but she was such a closed book that he couldn't really be sure. And that curiosity stopped him from reassuring her that their date would easily top the singing.

"I own stuff," Natalie pointed out. "Anything can be a prop for something if you have the imagination for it. Granted, I don't own any robes."

"Yeah, neither do I," he replied. "I think I got one for Christmas or a birthday once but Ramon stole it from me and wore it around the apartment when he didn't have to go anywhere."

Needless to say, his robe had gotten a lot of use. "What's mine is Ramon's and what's Ramon's is...usually smelly."

"Gross." Well, what else was she supposed to say to that? "So you don't have any robe props either. How sad."

Not really.

"I just don't have a lot of stuff period," Sam said. The estate that he'd gained from Douglas was woefully empty still. "Back home, I used to live in a tiny apartment with two other guys. Not a lot of room for props."

He finally realized that he was still leaning against the pinball machine and pushed away from it. "You want anything to eat? Or you wanna best some machines while I stand idly by and fan myself?"

"Fan yourself?" Natalie questioned, amused. "What, do you have a kink for girls kicking butt at arcade games? That's pretty special, Sam."

"If I do, I haven't yet discovered that but I more meant that I'd fan myself because I'd be impressed," he clarified. "It was supposed to be an indication of how impressive you would be at the video games in question. I think a kink would be a little more personal than that."

"But not by much," she replied, shrugging a shoulder. She had her own ways of looking at things, that was nothing new. "I think I'm gonna go with having snacks, first."

Oh, Sam wanted to ask about her views on kinks but he decided to wait on that. It was the beginning of a first date and he didn't want to get too too personal.

"Come on, then," he said, gesturing her over with a flick of his head. The snack bar wasn't too far off. That whole area was all too familiar to Sam what with the greasy smelling food and sounds of meat sizzling. "Maybe I can even convince them to Canadianize some of your food."

He didn't really mean that but it made him chuckle anyway.

Natalie rolled her eyes and made a very quiet, wryly amused sound.

"I'm fairly sure that would mean putting maple syrup on everything," she remarked as she got herself moving in the direction of the snack bar. "Isn't that the favoured stereotype down here? I think I'll pass."

"Well, maple syrup or a hockey puck," Sam quipped, leaning against the snack bar counter and scanning their selection. "I'm gonna end up with french fries and something else unnecessarily fried since I don't do meat. Maybe I'll get maple syrup on the side just to make you feel more comfortable."

"Or disgusted," Natalie retorted, eyeing the food options. "Thanks, I think I'll derive my comfort from other things. Not maple syrup. Fries sound good, though."

Snickering, Sam ordered himself a basket of french fries and a drink, figuring that would be enough for him. It was a wonder he could still eat fries after seeing how they were made for so many years.

"Where else do you derive your comfort from?" Sam wondered while he waited for her to order. She'd left that question out there so it was only natural that he ask, right?

Natalie made his question wait while she ordered, deciding on fries as well. As for her drink, she made a half-hearted request for something with +2 to will, then told them to forget it once she got the blank look she'd been expecting. She just got a plain Coke, instead.

"I think you can already guess," she said afterwards, returning to his question. "Books. Music."

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