2013.08.07 - I'll Have The Chili, Thank You Darling

It's the evening time, and people are getting off work at this time of day. Some are heading home, some are heading out for an exiting time on the town, and some... are settling in to the quieter joints about town for slowing down. Of these joints, Harry's Hideaway is one of long-standing places of excellent repute. This old-fashioned, simple, bar is the place to come for downhome cooking, beer, and a selection of good music. Dancing is doable, but only if you can find the room! There's small crowd here today, enough to imbue the place with some ambient noise but not enough to fill all of the tables or bar space.
One woman in particular, a well-dressed woman in her early twenties, is sitting up near the bar nursing a drink. Dressed in a white blouse with a green mesh shawl about her shoulders, beige dress pants, and a pair of heels... she seems to be somewhat zoned out. Her long, violet, tresses spill about her back and shoulders freely like a waterfall.
It's not long before someone's making his way through the crowd to snag himself a space by the bar. That someone? Bobby Drake. A familiar face at Harry's. Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt with a picture of a penguin in sunglasses on it, and wearing a pair his own sunglasses, Bobby steps up beside that well-dressed young woman and orders himself a drink. While waiting, he glances over her way and offers a grin. "Hey."
Doing a quick check outside Harry's, Doug Ramsey spits out the peppermint gum he's chewing into the gum wrapper, and tosses it into a trash can, runs a hand through his hair, and checks his reflection in the window. Okay. Dark blue polo crew shirt, good. Tan khakis, good. 
Taking a deep breath, Doug enters. Eyes check through the crowd until he finds the purple-tressed woman at the bar. Oh oh, was he late? 
Moving through the crowd quickly, the young man arrives, just a moment after Bobby. "Hey, Betsy, been waiting long?" he asks, momentarily getting a read off her body language, before tilting his head at Bobby. "Oh, hey Bobby," he greets. 
Betsy seems to snap out of her haze, momentarily, when Bobby addresses her. Emerald green eyes turn slowly in his direction, and then her rose red lips part in a show of pristine teeth as the corners of her mouth draw upwards. It's a warm and inviting smile, but there's a subtle, practiced, quality to it. "Hello." Her tone is deep, bearing the qualities of an english accent. "Lovely day, isn't it?" She intones, before her eyes fall to his shirt briefly and her smile turns to a bit of a grin. "I like that." And she makes a point of emphasizing it by pointing at it with her right hand. "Where did you get it?"
...And Doug comes up from behind, drawing her attention. "Well, hello luv." She eyes his attire for a moment, smiles, and says nothing in particular about it. Her eyes then flit back to his face, and she gives him an amused smile. "Right on time." She motions to a seat nearby, as the bartender wanders close. "What can I get for you all?"
"I'll have the chili, thank you darling."
Bobby's attention is definitely on Betsy and he's checking her out as subtly as he can. The accent just makes him smile a little wider and he nods. "Yeah, been a pretty good day. Thankfully not a scorcher like some others," he remarks. When his shirt is pointed to, Bobby puffs out his chest a little. "Ordered it online. I can show you the site if you'd like. They got a bunch of good stuff. 'Course I can't imagine there's anything that wouldn't look good on you," yes, he's flirting.
And then there's Doug. Bobby's smile shrinks slightly. "Hey, Doug," he greets right back, looking him over. He arches a brow slightly at the interactions but the bartender catches his attention first. "Just a beer my way, man."
The situation seemed awkward enough. Bobby being Bobby, and for a moment Doug hesitates, he being who he was, not really wanting to risk embarassment, but the amused smile on Betsy's face brings a similar smile on his face. Leaning foward to give the British woman a kiss on the cheek, Doug slides into the seat. "I'll have the steak, thank you!" he calls out, before spinning around to look at Betsy, and then at Bobby. "You know, you're right. There's nothing that wouldn't look good on her." 
Considering Betsy's interest in Bobby's shirt, then looking back at himself, Doug tilts his head. "I didn't know you had a thing for penguins," he comments, arching one eyebrow at Betsy. 
Betsy smiles again, cocking her head softly in response to his mention of a website. The subtle gesture sees her violet ringlets fall about her face a bit, and she casually brushes them from her eyes with a grin. It might very well look like an artfully flirtatious gesture from the young model, but is it...? "I see. Yes, perhaps I could get that from you. I adore cute little things like that." Even if she has far too many to wear.
Accepting the quick kiss on the cheek by Doug, with a growing smile, the british woman nods as Doug takes a seat. "I hear the steak is rather good here." The awkwardness the boys might be feeling seems to totally escape her. She seems patently unfazed, turning on her seat to eye the bartender momentarily as she takes another drink - a plain beer oddly enough.
She offers another grin at the undisguised flirt by both Bobby and Doug, but doesn't say to much about it, besides, "I get that a lot..." And a soft chuckle escapes her. "...It has been quite hot lately." She agrees, nodding softly. "It is nice that it is beginning to cool."
"You two know one another?"
Nodding, Bobby snags a bar napkin and takes a pen out of his pocket. He's taken to carrying one lately, finding he needs to scribble down notes more often than in the past. He writes down the website address and a quick promo code. "Here, use the code and you'll get a discount off your first purchace," he says. He was tempted to sneak his number or e-mail address on there too but then there's Doug kissing Betsy's cheek. And time to back off. There's no awkwardness from Bobby, just a sudden thought that he wants the beer a little more. When Betsy agrees about the heat, Bobby cools the air around them slightly out of habit. He nods to the question, fighting back the urge to launch into a joke. "We work together," he answers, glancing Doug's way.
And yet, if Bobby were observant, there -was- a look of puzzlement from Doug over Betsy's brushing her hair back (oh yes, it -was- a flirtacious gesture, trust the person who can read body language on this) move, so he -might- not necessarily have to back off. 
That the young man couldn't -quite- figure out what Betsy was up to had more to do with that she was extremely poised. "Well, he's at the academy too. One of the teachers, too, actually. Bobby, Betsy Braddock. Betsy, Bobby Drake. We're all on the faculty, though with summer out, we haven't quite had to meet up to discuss curriculum yet..." 
And no doubt Betsy didn't need to actually read Doug's mind to sense a bit of ... 'is she giving me a hard time -again-?' sense from him. 
The british woman accepts the offered napkin, pressing two well-manicured fingers to the bar and dragging it closer. She stares at it silently, for a moment or so, with a curious expression then gives a soft nod and lifts the napkin. Foldding it neatly, she turns and slips it into her purse hanging from her left shoulder. Then she lifts the purse by its shoulder strap, and sets it upon the foot rest of the bar below.
"Thank you, Bobby. It's lovely to meet you, by the way. I am Betsy Braddock..." And she stops to take stock of the sudden temperature change momentarily before offering him a knowing smile, "...Though we have not yet, I suspect we'll be seeing one other again at some point." She purposefully doesn't specify where, or why, but it might be obvious her meaning.
And it isn't long before Doug fills in the blanks, Betsy casting her emerald gaze in his direction and her prior smile returns - albeit a little subdued. "...Yes, that's right. We're all members of the Institute. I haven't been around much due to business so... I am partly to blame for why we have not yet met." Her smile then turns to a private, playful, grin - acknowledging that, yes, she is having -some- sort of fun here...
Bobby was paying a little more attention to Betsy than Doug at the time so he missed the puzzled expression. Right now he's assuming he's stumbled into a date and doesn't want to ruin it. He's already trying to think of a good line to exit with when Doug introduces them. "Betsy Braddock?" and now Bobby is confused. That's definitely not the same Betsy he knew before. He shoots a quizzical look at the other mutants, wanting to ask what's going on but not wanting to do it in a public place. "If you're going to be around...we're having a sort of end of summer party at the end of the week," he says, running a hand through his hair and then lifting his sunglasses to rest them there.
Tilting his head at Betsy, Doug tries to make sense of the rather casual body language she was displaying. Not for the first time, and probably not the last, there was a brief expression of 'Women!' before he shakes his head bemusedly at himself. 
"Well, yeah, this -is- Betsy," Doug comments, reading the puzzlement. "She's getting situated again, after... er, sorry." It was, after all, her story to tell if she wanted, and the blond linguist motions towards the telepath. 
"Yes." Betsy replies, sobering up a bit at Bobby's confusion. It's at this time the Bartender approaches to offer Bobby his beer, setting it upon the wooden bar top and walking away again to check on the kitchen. "That issue, it really is taking some time for everyone to adjust to - myself included..." And she turns her eyes toward Doug as he comments on the issue himself, waiting until he's done to continue along her train of thought. "...I'd explain it, but..." And here she gives Bobby a bit of a look that says 'not here', before continuing, "...perhaps we can save that for party. I heard about that, I'd be delighted to attend."
Bobby notices Doug's expression this time and gives him a little sympathetic smile. He nods as the blond mutant confirms that it is Betsy and not some random alternate dimension visitor...there were so many of then lately...and turns his attention back towards the telepath. His attention is briefly drawn by the bartender and Bobby nods. "Thanks," he chimes, waiting until the bartender is out of sight before giving his drink a quick re-chill. There's a look of understanding at the 'not here' look and Bobby takes a sip of his drink. "Sounds good. And don't forget to dress warm," he smirks. "and bring a swimsuit for the pool and hot tub," he adds.
There was a brief glance back up at Betsy, as he considers the changes in Betsy. He'd known -of-, but never really seen what was the 'old' Betsy to Bobby. Just the supermodel who'd hit the scene like a comet, and then disappeared, before making a return to the business. 
A pensive look crosses Doug's face as he contemplates Betsy in a swimsuit, before he flushes. "Um... yeah, about the party, Bobby... we grilling? Because I was thinking of bringing some stuff. Hot dogs, sausages..." 
And then Doug's steak arrives, sizzling hot, as does Betsy's chili, and the young man turns to consider his steak. "... but not steak," he says, as he reaches for fork and knife. 
Betsy pops the top off of her lipstick, popping open a compact she keeps in her purse, and repaints her lips after she finishes talking. Her eyes flit from the compact mirror to the bowl of chili momentarily, before she glances back and finishes up and checks her make-up. Pressing her lips together, momentarily, she shuts the compact again and bends over to tuck it away inside her purse.
"That I will." She adopts a playful smile at that, but it's aimed at no one in particular - she simply scoots a little closer to the bar. "I have a lovely selection of swim wear. It should be fun figuring out what to wear." One can only imagine the devilry this woman can create with a swimsuit. She gives Doug a glance, momentarily, as she lifts her spoon daintly. It is a knowing expression, she probably -knows- he trie to imagine it. "...I do so love meet and greets..." And she turns her attention back to her food finally. Puckering her lips, she blows softly on the chili...
Bobby smirks knowingly at Doug when he catches that flush. He gives him a little 'just wait till the party' look before attention shifts back to Betsy. He's distracted for a moment by the lipstick application but he shakes it off and takes a swig of beer. Distraction hits again as Betsy starts cooling off her chili and Bobby looks to Doug. "Yep, definitely grilling. Bring anything you'd like. I was planning on heading out to pick some stuff up after a drink or two so if you've got a request, I'll grab it."
It wasn't as though Doug hadn't seen Betsy before wearing very little clothing, but... well, it wasn't as though it was old hat to him, and the -possibilities- of what she might end up wearing is... distracting, to say the least. Focusing on his steak, the young man can't help but think 'just pucker your lips and blow' when Betsy is cooling her chili. 
Trying to keep his mind safer, Doug nods at Bobby. "I'll get the sausages and corn... I always liked grilling the corn." There was a brief glance at Betsy, as he considers, wondering what -she- liked having grilled... what did British aristocracy do, anyway? 
"I'll bring some things as well." She adds, taking a bit of her chili. "I am sure I can contribute things both exotic and mundane to the selection. We'll surely need a lot of food for the entire Institute potentially." She places her spoons back in her chili again, licking the corner of her mouth subtly before continuing. "I do so love American cuisine however." As if hot dogs and hamburgers could really be termed cuisine. "It's very simple."
"She takes another slow drink of beer then, before setting it upon the counter. "I imagine everyone is looking forward to a break."
"Corn huh? Cool. Never had grilled corn before," Bobby replies, making a note to try it. He's curious about what Betsy will bringg too but he doesn't ask. He'll just be surprised at the party itself. His smile shrinks a moment when Betsy comments about needing a lot of food. All the recent people leaving has had him in a bad mood. Shaking it off, he nods. "We'll have a lot of food and two grills going. It'll be a great time for everyone. One last party before work swallows everyone up."
"God knows, we could use a break from all the activity," Doug notes. "I've already had enough of being unable to speak. Twice." Thanks to the Inhibitor. "At least then we can get back to work after this... you have a modelling gig soon, right, Betsy?" 
Popping another piece of steak into his mouth, Doug glances at Bobby. "And we're supposed to be preparing for new incoming students, too." 
Betsy catches the shrinking smile, but decides not to ask. Best not to make a deal of it, she decides. Taking another bite of her chili, she just sort of rocks her right leg - presently draped over her left - in a slow rhythm as she tries to think of something to say. "Well, I...", and she stops, listening as Doug speaks up. She actually seems pleased he spoke first, it gives her time to think. "...Yes. I am pretty much always swallowed by work." She intones at the 'always' bit, emphasizing it. "...I will, actually, have to cancel something to attend but I would rather."
Another bite is taken, Betsy pulls a napkin from the holder nearby and dabs it at her mouth to neaten up. She then lays it upon the counter, its face is tainted a light red from her lipstick. "...Grilled corn, hm? I do not believe I have ever had it either."
"Not that many coming in this year," Bobby remarks. He saw the incomming student list early. "I'm sure one day for a party won't stop our preparations thought," he adds. "You seriously could talk?" he asks Doug, finding that slightly amusing. He's glad Betsy's skipping the job to attend. He wants as many people there as possible.
Sighing, Doug nods. "Yeah. Well, I -could- talk. Just not... in any language. I mean... you know, when your power is the ability to understand and speak any language, and that gets shut down... GLkgklbbpppt..." Doug exaggerates profusely, lips and tongue flapping in random syllables. And a sigh at the relative lack of incoming students. Well, at least he had other tasks to work around the mansion that didn't involve field work.
Offering a grin at Betsy, Doug arches his eyebrows. "I'm glad you're going to the party, too. You, uh, need an escort?" 
Betsy sighs, looking around briefly at their surroundings before giving Doug a look that says 'I thought to ask... but there's a reason I didn't'. She then adds verbally, "Yes, that's happens when your 'powers' of concentration are thrown off." She turns her eyes over her shoulder briefly at an elderly gentleman wearing a leisure suit who walks by. Then she turns back to her chili, taking another bite.
"...Well, ..." She pauses to think for a moment. "...I might have to stop by the office on the way, so I am not sure that's feasible. Especially since you live in the... dormitory." She offers him an other playful smile, however, before adding, "...I suspect you'll see me soon enough after you arrive though."
"That's messed up in a few ways," Bobby replies, giving Doug another sympathetic look. He's glad he's not encountered this power-inhibitor. The thing with the Sentinel base was bad enough. He arches both brows at Betsy's reply to Doug and glances at the blond. "Well, Doug could always come pick you up and drive you to the mansion," he offers. "Or since the party's out back, he could meet you up front and still...escort you," he says. He's trying to help, really.
The look is met with a slight grimace as Doug considers. Right. He -should- know better, being an ex-SHIELD agent. "... yeah, well, maybe if a certain -someone- didn't keep throwing off my concentration. Why do I always seem to end up having a hard time finding the right words around her?" the blond mutant laments to Bobby, an appeal to brotherhood. 
Tilting his head, Doug considers that. "Well, I -do- live there... for now." Eyes shift to Betsy as he considers that, before he smiles briefly, before nodding at Bobby. "I guess we'll just see, won't we?" 
Betsy gives a sideways glance to Bobby and grins just a little bit at his attempt to help Doug out with the escort line. It's an amused grin, that communicates things not altogether simple. Especially since the look in her eyes gives a slightly different interpretation of her feelings about it. She understands well that this is a sentimental issue for an average guy, but well... she is often shuttled everywhere and attended every minute of every day by someone so... "Yes, we'll see." Her grin softens, and she ends that thought with a small exhalation and a turning of her eyes toward the wall clock...
...And she pauses then, after finishing her last bite and eyes Doug as something he said finally registers. "...It is not my fault you lack..." ...and she glides elegantly out of her chair, in a controlled fashion, giving both boys /just/ enough time to see her rather pronounced derriere beneath those dressy pants she's wearing. Whilst she's still leaning, she drops a soft note, "...concentration." And then stands to her full height and steps away from the bar. "...Perhaps you just need more discipline. ... Have a good evening, gentlemen, I must be going for a while." And then she promptly turns to leave.
"That's the way these things go," Bobby sighs to Doug. He glances at Betsy as she gets up, checking her out again. Just because he's not going to try to steal her away from Doug doesn't mean he won't enjoy the view. There's a small smile as the telepath replies to Doug and Bobby drains his beer. "I've gotta be headin' out too. Got to get stuff for the party."
Yes, yes. "Well, then... I guess I need to practice my discipline," Doug sighs, as his eyes shifts towards watching Betsy go. There was a brief pause, as suddenly Doug realizes that he's been left with the bill. Sighing, he takes out his wallet, and pays for Betsy and himself, before getting off the stool and turning to follow them on their way out, as well. 
Category:Log