Thread: It's All Relative (Monster Teeth and Verse)

So they were as platonic as Ingram had said. He had suspected and hoped as much, but going further without her saying so had to be a douche move of larger proportions than he was willing to stand for. Or at least worse than what he wanted to seem. Wise? Steve lingered on the word. Intelligent through experience, an old mind seasoned with much experience. What an odd choice of adjective. He figured that it might mean she and this Ingram were close, without being romantically involved. He looks wise. Steve offered, but how would he know? So far he was just trying to be agreeable. To lend some credibility he looked back at the man, who was waiting by the counter. He almost felt bad for the guy. Good friend though, it seemed, to give her this kind of space in a crowded caf. Should Steven leave? She made it easier for him, giving him a way to exit without being rude. He was more excited about the napkin, though. Steve stood to take it, and remained standing as he looked at the note. He even stole a quick glance at her legs over the top of the paper, holding her number. Wow. Today's a good day for me. He folded the means of contact and put it in the inside of his jacket. And I will. Another smile as he walked around the table quickly, leaning down to hug her. It would have been awkward not to touch her before leaving, but perhaps the friendly hug had been too much? Would she even go for it. Steve excused himself finally by waving at Ingram, who hurried toward their table, number stand in hand. Get a room, you two. the raven haired said when he sat back down in the chair that had seen a lot of use since he first came in. It was a joke, but in usual Ingram jargon, he didn't let it be known by smiling. Alexandria hadn't been too excited about Steve, or put off either, so she'd still handed the man a napkin she doubtlessly put her number on. Or perhaps mail. He was inclined to guess on the former. It was an admirable part of her personality, not to count people out. It had given her a rich life so far. He scooted the number to the middle of the table, quite close to his computer, and made sure it was visible from the angle of the kitchen. By his guess the food would be done soon. It would be an informed estimation, too, since he used to be an often patron. To his surprise he was looking forward to eating here again. He should come more often. So, before any other princes come to whisk you away, what are your thoughts on The Creator? he asked as he watched the door close behind Steven. Surely that guy would call. Ingram had read her report, but a lot of speculations and thoughts were not jotted down to be displayed for the scrutiny of superiors and co-workers. The hunches and gut feelings that detectives had were to be followed to real evidence, never be considered evidence on their own. It would be hard to get time away from other cases by crediting only a tingle. It was highly experimental too. No matter how meticulous a perpetrator was, they couldn't very well account for the sixth senses of their pursuers. You were there, at the scene. How did it feel like? He chewed on his lip as he thought about what words to use, pale eyes glistening distantly with the search. What kind of being is The Creator? He sat back slightly, a play at standing up without the follow-through, as the waitress carried a large tray with their order on it to the edge of their table. She served Lexi first, and then him, automatically given him the darker meat. A small tug ruled his lips then, almost turning the smirk into a grin as an unruly and careless concept flitted through his mind. He decided to indulge. His hands came out when the waitress had left. Yes. Pretend I'm The Creator. A freezing cold in his eyes, a vicious winter storm, asking you to come out of the warmth to explore a tundra ridden country that would surely be your death. But not, perhaps, without giving you some of its secrets to keep you company in your grave. What kind of person am I? He pushed his plate closer to hers, so she'd know to choose without him mentioning it. How aghast she would be to learn in the future, that she had been dining with her nemesis. What would you say?