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Taste of Thai, Thursday evening

After a night of relative quiet, Bruce was out again tonight. This time, though, it was a perfectly innocent follow-up date with a very nice, socially active girl he met at Three Minute Dates. Surely they would just talk about charity work and trying to make the world a better place. Surely there was no way that could possibly lead to anything other than the helping people.

Bruce waited for Britta at the Thai place, unaware that he was about to have a date with the Anti-him, and that if the date did lead anyplace, the world could potentially be in danger.

[OOC: ... in danger of sexiness. For The Worst.]

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Actually, that socially active girl was thinking if maybe she would just rather order some pizza and get high in one of their bedrooms, but then that socially active girl remembered that she was also chronically broke girl and the chances she got to go out and actually have a nice meal were pretty slim, so she had to take every opportunity she had.

She was sure they could probably just get high later, if Bruce wanted. Or, you know, just make out, because that meant more pot for her.

Social active, chronically broke girl was also, it so happened, habitually late. "Ohmygosh," she gushed, hurrying through the door as fast as her highest hooker boots could carry her. "I'm sorry! I totally lost track of time."

"Don't worry about it," Bruce said, flashing a smile that may have been slightly influenced by the hooker boots. "You strike me as a girl worth waiting for."

It was a smile that made Britta wonder if the hooker boots that caused them were a bad idea, seeing as how walking in them with her knees that weak was going to be...challenging. "That's so cheesy," she said, though she couldn't seem to keep her own appreciative smile off her face. Hey, the guy had been through Some Tragedy that she was Vaguely Aware of, so he was allowed a little bit of cheese.

"True," she added, pointedly, lest he get any ideas otherwise, "but still cheesy. Come on, let's grab a seat, I've been waiting all day for this."

And not just because all she had for lunch was celery sticks and mustard.

"All day? I must have made a real impression on Sunday," Bruce said, leading Britta over to a reserved table.

Yeah. Reserved table. Bruce was a classy guy.

"How do you know it's you?" Britta wheedled, trying not to be impressed but she kind of was because how often did she go on dates with guys who reserved tables? "Maybe I just really like Thai food."

Which she did, but, no, it was true, it was mostly him. Not only could she tell from their brief conversation on Sunday that he was a very special young man, she could also tell that he had an amazing face and she'd kind of get to look at it for a good part of the evening, or more if she worked this right.

It would be tough for her to work this wrong this week, but let's not shatter any illusions.

"To be fair, it is pretty good here," Bruce said. "But if you don't mind, I'll let myself think that I helped matters a little."

Britta shrugged out of her jacket before slinging it over her chair, an affair that she didn't even intend to be as revealing as it may have wound up being, while her smile was just pure sympathy and what she thought was understanding. "More than a little," she assured him, recalling all of the potential pain in those soulful dark eyes. "I'm really glad to have this chance to get to know you better, Bruce. I can tell, three minutes is not enough to do you justice."

Bruce may have raised an eyebrow at the jacket shrugging, but he tried not to appreciate it too much.

"Fortunately, we have all the time in the world for you to get to know me as well as you'd like," Bruce said. "Ask me anything."

Why yes, that was terribly open-ended on a night like this.

"Okay," said Britta, never one to step away from a challenge, "if you had to choose between saving a boxful of endangered lion kitten from being run over by the bulldozer trying to destroy their habitat or getting the chance to destroy a diamond mine that has fueled the pain and suffering of countless people , which would you do?"

What? He said anything, didn't he?

"I don't see why I couldn't do both," Bruce said. "Remote explosives for the diamond mine, grab the lions, then climb into the cab and force the driver to stop. Seems simple to me."

"Good answer," Britta grinned approvingly, leaning forward a little on the table with her arms folded in front of her. "Trick question, really. Should I answer any question now in response?"

"Only if you think you can do better than mine," Bruce said. "And I hope you can. I'd love to see what you've got."

Also he was interested in her answer.

Britta should have expected the question might be turned back on her, but maybe she was just too distracted by Bruce's chiseled jawline. And it wasn't fair because his answer was a good one, but she couldn't use it anymore because it's what he already said.

"Okay," she said, sitting up once he had it and holding her hands in front of her, because, clearly, this needed gestures, "so, here's another way you could do both. You got to get into the bulldozer first, seduce the driver, which not only gets him to stop clearing out the forest and running lion cubs, but also gives you the chance to steal his keys, kick him out without his pants so that he gets eaten alive by mosquito bites that give him malaria, because we're clearly in the jungle here, and then you hi-jack the bulldozer, set it on course for the diamond mind with the timed bomb inside. Jump out before it's too late, and, while the blaze of justice is going off in the mine, which, by the way, you cleared everyone out of because you declared a special harvest feast or anything, so there's no collateral damage, you go back and set the cubs back into the wild, because one thing that wasn't mentioned was that there were some poachers hunting for their pelts, and some other guys who wanted to take them and put them in a soulless zoo, where they'd be restricted and fed poorly for the sheer entertainment of simple minded suburbanite scum."

Then Britta remembered to breathe, preening all the while.

Bruce actually listened to every word of that. Any other night and he might have been concerned for Britta's mental health. Tonight, though, that sounded kind of hot.

"You win," Bruce said. "I never would have considered seducing the guy."

"Well, that's good, though!" Britta said. "I mean, I'm only doing it for the sake of justice, anyway, otherwise, it's just totally gross. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices, though."

"I bet you'd be pretty good at seducing," she added, after a brief moment where her brain tried to tell her not to, but, clearly, she wasn't listening to her brain right now.

Bruce leaned forward slightly and reached across the table to cup his hands over hers, pausing just long enough to let the electricity of such gentle physical contact pass. "I don't think I could forgive myself if I let tonight end without showing you what I could do. Because this is a moment, Britta. And if you let moments like this go, they may be lost forever. I don't want to lose this moment."

He kind of had to go for it after that last comment.

Holy hormones, Batman. Britta felt her heart practically lodge herself into her throat, and she hadn't felt this dizzy since the last time she went partying in New York and someone had thought it was a good idea to play a game they liked to call window ledge bingo.

It took her a moment to find her voice, her head bobbing slightly make up for the struggle, and her eyes seeming to forget how to blink.

"Oh," she said emphatically, "totally."

And because he apparently had no brakes this week, Bruce lifted one of Britta's hands and kissed it before suggesting, "We could get our food to go."

Any other time, Britta would totally have to rip on Bruce for being a great big cheese factory, as well as inform him that not every girl could be so turned on by that much cheese, but...this week, she was every girl.

Because her earlier fantasy about just getting pizza, getting high, and making out just got majorly elevated.

"I like to-go," she said, head still bobbing. "No, I love to go. Let's get it to go."

Well, maybe not getting high, and making out was probably aiming low compared to Bruce's intentions. But her fantasy wasn't far off.

"Good. Because I don't think I'd be able to make it through a full meal with just talking to you," Bruce said, waving over the waiter who had better get their order together as quickly as was humanly possible or else.

It was a very expressive wave.

Britta thought to ask what else he would be doing if he wasn't talking, but then Britta thought better of it. Because not only was that something maybe better shown than explained, but if she stuck that into the conversation, it would hold back the ordering, which would hold back their food, which would mean they'd be sitting there longer. So she didn't, and she even almost thought of saying fuck the food but not even sex pollen could erase the fact that free food was free food.

"I'll take whatever you have that's vegetarian and doesn't suck," Britta offered the moment the waiter arrived, with her clearly picky specifications.

"Make it two, to go, and hurry," Bruce said, never taking his eyes off Britta. "We don't want to keep the lady waiting."

Actually, Bruce had warned the staff that this kind of thing was a possibility with the way his week had gone, so they were prepared and would be well compensated for their speed.

Yes, he did tend to plan ahead.

"Or the man," Britta chimed in after the waiter, because feminism went both ways. She shot a proud little smile across the table at Bruce, and then even managed to forget about being righteous for a moment under that look.

"I hope it's spicy," she found herself saying, ninety-nine percent sure she wasn't talking about the food. Because if it was anything taking Bruce to Flavor Country, it better be her and not the pad thai.

"If you like it hot, I think you'll be completely satisfied," Bruce said.

He didn't mind setting high expectations. About himself or the restaurant. Whichever.

"Yeah?" asked Britta, her grin curving up with intrigue; she was leaning forward across the table so much that it was a surprise her chair, lifted up on two legs, wasn't tilting out from underneath her ye--

--nope. Never mind. There it went. The power of Bruce's sexual magnetism was so great that she didn't even notice the chair slipping until she got a chin full of the side of the table.

"Son of a--!"

"Britta! Are you okay?" Bruce said, sliding out of his chair to attend to her.

"Ow, yeah, I'm....I'm fine," Britta said, staying on the floor for a moment with her hand to her jaw and figured that wounded pride didn't really count as a serious injury anyway. She reached out for Bruce, to find the strength of his arms to help steady her as she tried to blink the stars out of her eyes. "I guess I just kind of...lost my balance there."

Not surprising, with the places her mind was going right now.

And she was so going to hate herself next week.

This wasn't the way Bruce had expected to get Britta on her back tonight, but it certainly was a way to make that happen. A horribly unsexy way that didn't seem to deter anything. "As long as you're okay," Bruce said. "And don't worry. I'll make sure you feel much better soon. You won't even be thinking about what just happened."

"I'm pretty sure," Britta confided with a grin, once she managed to get to her feet and still seemed to have no intention of letting go of Bruce's arms, "I've already forgotten."

"I'd still like to check out the injury," Bruce said, leaning in to check out the injury. With his mouth. Oh, no, his aim was off and he found himself trying to put his lips on Britta's lips instead.

Darn the luck.

Terrible aim. Horrible aim. But far be it for Britta to hold Bruce's bad aim against him, especially when it was herself she'd rather be holding against him.

Which she did with great gusto as she kissed him back, just hoping that nothing else happened like one of the heels of her boots suddenly giving way.

With fantastic timing, the waiter returned with their food... which he very quietly placed on the table. He had Bruce's payment information anyway.

"We need to get out of here right now," Bruce said when it was time to come up for air.

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Taste of Thai, Thursday evening

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