2013.04.01 - In Vino Veritas

A phone call was made to Fern -- Warren hoped that she had the day off due to the holiday, and after his familial obligations, he wanted to see if she was interested in getting together. While most places were closed, he figured that since it was a nice day, they could at least wander about the Park...and then some. A few arrangements were made between the phone call and waiting.
Fern wasn't surprised to get the call, but she hesitated just a moment before saying yes, she'd meet Warren at the park. She'd gotten there early, spending a little time walking in the fresh air. With the warmer temperatures her bomber jacket has been left at her apartment, and the lighter raincoat worn. It flaps behind her as she walks, unbuttoned to show a denim skirt and pastel pink v-neck t-shirt beneath. Her tights are also colorful, a swirl of light blue, green, pink and yellow, reminiscent of a colored egg. Her trusty black laced boots give a little weight to her steps, but her pace is still brisk as she heads for the spot where she's supposed to meet Warren. 
Knowing that Fern isn't the type to be impressed by fancy gifts, Warren tried to keep it simple. He's put together an Easter basket for her, cheerful with fresh flowers, decorated eggs, chocolates, and a little stuffed chick. No jewelry...no bling...because he didn't want to frighten her off. But it's a little something. It's swinging from his hand as he approaches the spot he asked to meet -- none other than the spot where they first met. He's also dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a button-down, and a leather jacket, cut, as are all his tops, to allow for his wings.
It's hard not to spy Warren from a distance, and Fern's step quickens as she sees him. She knew the spot he suggested they meet, but seeing it, and him there on the bridge, brings the memory of their first chance encounter back vividly. As she closes the distance she can't help but muse how that vision on first meeting has become someone she's grown closer to. As her foot hits the bridge, she slows, taking in the basket without comment, looking up to his face quickly. "Happy Easter, Warren." 
Warren smiles as she approaches, and he hands over the basket without ceremony, "Happy Easter, Fern. I hope you don't mind...I know you're far away from your family and I didn't know if you celebrated, but...Easter isn't complete without creme eggs and chocolate bunnies, right?" He tries to gauge if she seems open to a hug of greeting. "I didn't ruin any plans or anything, did I? I thought that since it was such a nice day we could take a walk..."
Fern takes the basket by the handle, holding it aside as she steps close, indeed open to a hug of greeting. It's one armed, but that arm gives a squeeze and holds for a moment as Fern says softly, "Thank you, Warren. I've been sort of missing home today." When she does step back, it's to look up to his face, a light shake of her head coming with her reply, "No, you didn't ruin anything at all. I'm glad you called." 
The hug is offered warmly and when Warren steps back, there's a little pink to his cheeks. "I wanted to invite you to our 'dinner' but I didn't want to overwhelm you and my parents can be a bit much." Among other things. Offering a hand, "Shall we walk? I'm glad you were free. I kind of had fun putting together your Easter basket."
Fern pauses before taking Warren's hand, bringing the basket up to peek at what treats are there, her smile delighted. As soon as she spies the stuffed chick she gasps, reaching to pull it out and hold it up. "Awwww, that's so cute." She brings it to rub lightly on her cheek, "And it's so soft." It's returned to it's place, tucked safely in next to a chocolate bunny, and she lets the basket down to swing lightly at her side, her other hand slipping into his. "Everything I love," she says quietly, her voice pleased. "How are your parents?" 
Angel smiles, pleased that he chose wisely. "I liked the chick better than the bunnies..." and chicks have wings, which might, maybe, remind her of him. There was a logic behind that particular choice. "I'm so glad you like it all!" Sure, the bunnies are Godiva, but he does have particular tastes. As her hand slips into his, he gives it a light squeeze, "My parents are doing well. They wanted me to wish you a Happy Easter," so apparently he did mention her to them. "Did you get to talk to your family at all today?"
Fern's hand is warm, having been tucked into her pocket as she walked, and the significance of his words aren't lost on her. His parents know she exists. Her eyes drop and she bites her lip, then looks up again. "That's nice of them." She nods as she answers, "I got to talk to everyone earlier. This is the first year they've not done an egg hunt. The boys all wanted to tell me how disappointed they are." There's a smile, but it's touched with sadness. "They blame me for everything." But, she was the reason they still kept the tradition, despite their advanced years. 
They wanted to meet her too, but Warren told them to quit it. "They didn't do an egg hunt because you weren't there?" It's not something that he fully understands. "I don't have any siblings, myself. I'm an only child," which also might explain a few things. "They blame you for following your dream? What did they expect you to do back in Ohio?"
Fern laughs easily and shakes her head, "No, they support me being here. But they're grumpy about not doing the eggs this year. It's one of the things we've just always done before." Her head tilts as she regards him, "You've never hidden eggs and hunted them?" That's almost a foreign concept to her, it's something every family did as she was growing up. "I wish I'd have known." 
 
"Oh, sure I did," Warren corrects, "When I was little, we'd go to Easter parties and they'd have an egg hunt for the kids. I probably haven't done it in fourteen years or so though...since before the wings." They continue to walk along the path, "I'm glad your parents support you being here...did you ever find out what part you had in the Shakespeare?" His grin returns, "You wish you had known what?"
Despite her smaller stride, Fern paces Warren easily, the basket swinging lightly by her side as they walk. "Well, if you'd never had an egg hunt, I'd have made one for you," she says with a soft laugh. "At least I don't have to feel badly now." Not about that, anyway. "Should get the word about the play early this week. It's been torture waiting." 
His grin widens, "You would have done that for me?" Warren actually can't help a laugh from escaping, "That would be hysterical...me, all grown up, running around looking for Easter eggs!" He's rather touched by that. "They're still making you wait? What happens if you get another offer before they let you know?"
"Of course I would have done that for you," Fern says lightly. She grins at the image his words conjure, "And then, I'd have made us egg salad. See what you're missing out on now?" She leans to bump against him lightly with the tease, then sighs softly. "I expect they'll make the calls tomorrow. I'm nervous. I was over by the theater earlier, just.... sort of taking it in." 
"Ooh. I -do- like egg salad...with celery and a little dill..." Warren grins and bumps back. "Drats...I should have kept my big mouth shut." He turns his grin to her, "That's really exciting though. Is this your New York debut then?"
Fern steps closer after his return bump, letting her arm press lightly to his as they walk. "See, smart guy? Gotta know when to keep quiet." She looks up to him as he looks down, and she gets the full impact of his grin. He's shown how reserved he can be, so these moments make her feel like they're sharing something he doesn't give very easily. She looks away quickly, resolutely setting her eyes forward to see where they're going. "I was in something off, off, off Broadway." She smirks, adding, "It was terrible. And, oddly enough, a man who was in the restaurant last night had seen it and recognized me. It was wonderful and horrifying at the same time," she confides. 
The thing is, Warren -is- sharing something that not many people get to see. He's a good Businessman, and he's a good teammate, but only a few know who he really is past either of those two masks. "I'm learning. You'll have to forgive me, this is the first time I've done this...unless you count taking Savannah Allen to a movie when I was eleven." His eyes linger on her a moment as she looks forward, but a wing reaches out protectively to cover her back. "Well, you know what they say right? All press is good press."
As they turn down one of the paths, there's a little picnic area set up under a couple of the larger trees. "I wasn't sure if you were hungry, but I brought a few snacks." There are some cheese and cracker and fruit plates set about as well we waiting glasses of wine.
There's a glance over her shoulder as the wing rustles lightly, and Fern stays pressed close to Warren, comfortable with his nearness. There's a second of thought before she allows, "I guess that was pretty long ago, so you're forgiven. And it was such an awful play," she groans lightly, "But he said I was the best thing in it. He was my favorite customer of the night." She giggles softly, but it drifts away as she realize he's leading them to the little picnic set out. "Oh Warren. This is so sweet. It's perfect." 
"Did you tell him that you were going to be in Shakespeare in the Park? I mean, you could start having a fan following! Maybe he's a patron of the arts?" Warren's grin brightens and there's a little sigh of relief, "Oh, good! I wasn't sure if you'd like it or be pissed off...but I'm glad you like it! Shall we?" He gestures for her to lead the way.
Fern laughs lightly, "A friend joined him, so I let them have some peace to talk. If he ever stops by again, maybe I'll tell him." He did like the cannoli, so there's a chance he'll be back for more. Anita's cannoli is the crack of Italian bakery. She steps ahead of Warren, not releasing his hand, pausing at the blanket until he's ready to sit. Sinking down to her knees, she sets the basket aside, positioned so she can see the little stuffed chick. "I couldn't be pissed off with such a thoughtful gesture, Warren." Even as contrary as she can be. 
Angel sits as Fern does and reaches over to offer her a glass of the wine. "I don't know...I didn't want you to presume that I was...presuming anything." Yeah, that made no sense. Warren pulls over the cheese and fruit plate as well, "I was thinking about going to the Museum or the Cloisters, but everything's closed today." He looks at his wine glass and then offers it out to clink lightly with Fern's.
Reaching over, Fern takes the glass of wine, looking into it's depths as Warren talks. Her eyes raise and she brings her glass up to touch lightly against his. "I think this is perfect," she says quietly. It is perfect. It's thoughtful and sweet and romantic. It's polluting her hormones and clouding her judgment, and Fern really needs to keep a straight head about this and just face it full on. She tips the glass up, taking more than a sip and it helps.... absolutely not at all. 
 
There's a swallow, and she licks her lips before speaking, her eyes centering somewhere around his shirt collar. "Warren," she begins softly. "I've done a lot of thinking. About this. Me and you and Kurt." He doesn't need to know that all that thinking had given her a different answer. There's a pause for a breath, and her eyes flicker up, her voice soft, as if reluctant to be heard. "I know that if I decided on either one of you, the other would be hurt. You even said you wouldn't spend time with us. It would hurt your friendship." Another pause for her to steel herself. "Because of that, I can't see either of you as more than a friend." 
Taking his own sip after the little, wordless toast, Warren is mid-reach to the cheese and crackers when Fern starts to speak. He pulls his hand back and sits, his glass still in his other hand, as he listens. He says nothing for a moment before he asks, "Is that what your heart is telling you?"
Taking some cheese and crackers, finally, he also begins to speak. "Fern...I don't want you to be in the middle of me and Kurt. What happens is...between us. If you decide that you want to be with him, it will hurt, but...well, I wouldn't be surprised. It might mean that I see Kurt less while the hurt heals, but...it will. It always does, right? It just might take time. It's not going to make me hate Kurt or destroy our friendship. It just might change things. If you choose me...I'm guessing Kurt would feel much the same way as I do." After taking a bite of the cheese and crackers, he also takes a longer drink from his glass.
"To be honest, if you want to stay 'friends' with the two of us, I don't see how that will change anything. I...can't just turn off how I'm coming to feel about you to go bowling or something."
That first question sees Fern's eyes drop again, afraid the answer will show there all too clearly, and she gives no response. She waits for him to go on, listening as she swirls her glass lightly. While his first words almost froze her in place, the last get an immediate reaction. She tips her glass up and empties it in two swallows before she looks up again. "Then maybe I ought to be out of your lives entirely." There's absolutely no indication that this is her preferred choice. Her eyes drift away from his, lingering on his lips before snapping back up. 
The bottle isnt pulled out yet...they might not want to be drinking too much right now. "Why are you sacrificing what you want for us? I mean...a friendship is going to endure...like I said, I'm not going to suddenly hate him nor him me. Were you thinking that the three of us would go out on dates together?" Warren actually seems to consider it all for a moment before he shakes his head, "I know that some people do that sort of thing right now, but I can't. I want to at least figure things out before I decide to deviate...if I decide at all." That's mostly said to himself.
Looking back to Fern, he continues, "When I was in my coma...locked in those nightmares, I had a lot of time to think. I mean, I couldn't fly, I was completely alone, and it left me a lot of time to think. I decided that if I ever got out of that, I wouldn't let that fear rule me again." He frowns then, "I think I lost the point. Wait...right. Don't cut yourself off from people. Period. Because it's not just hurting you, it's hurting them too. Did that make any sense?"
There's a frown as Fern shakes her head, "I never thought we'd go on dates together, but if we all went out I'd want him to be comfortable." She pauses, realizes what she said, and corrects, "Or you. Either one of you." She doesn't even want to kiss them both, she has no intentions of doing anything more with them both, either. 
 
Warren might not want more wine right now, but Fern apparently does, as she holds her glass out, asking softly, "Please?" Her head bobs in a light nod, "It does make sense." 
Warren gets the bottle and pours more wine for the both of them. He knows how much he can handle and he can always carry her home if need be. "I know for me, it would take time. And if we went out with the three of us, I'd feel like a spare wheel. I can't speak for Kurt on that, but that's me." He looks at his wine glass, "I'm not telling you this to try and guilt you into anything. I'm just trying to be honest. But I truly want you to do what you feel you should do in your heart. I care for you too much to see you hurt by feeling like you have to deny yourself that."
Fern has never really been much of a drinker, except for a couple nights recently that she's going out with Jerry from work to a martini bar. Thankfully, she's not his type in the least, and he's probably the safest person in her world to get tipsy with. So the wine might be going to her head just a little already. But, 'In Vino Veritas'. Half the fresh glass disappears. 
 
She glances up at Warren, asking softly, "If he and I did things as friends, would you be okay with that? Like, if you're working and I have the day off and he wants to go to the Statue of Liberty?" Her eyes hold on him, waiting for his answer. 
The question doesn't get an immediate answer. Once again, his wine glass gets scrutinized as Warren has to think about it, "I...think so. I've never really had to deal with that before, but I would trust you and I would trust Kurt. And if feelings...changed, I would trust that someone would tell me before anything happened that would hurt any of us, right?" Looking back at Fern, he reiterates, "I'm not trying to force you to choose me, you know. I just want you to be happy. If that's with Kurt, then I'll be happy for him." Mostly.
As Warren thinks, Fern polishes off her wine. She nods when he answers, offering back, choosing her words through a very light mist of wine. "I love Kurt." She goes on quickly, before Warren can jump to conclusions, "He's thoughtful and cuddly and kind. But I'm not in love with Kurt." Her eyes snap up, and she holds her wine glass out toward him, index finger out and pointing at him. "But don't you think that means I'm in love with you. I don't know yet." There. She told him. She even nods her head emphatically to her thoughts.
 
"I couldn't ask for a better friend in Kurt..." and he hopes that he won't lose that close friendship over this. Women have been known to start wars, after all. Looking at the wine glass, Warren reluctantly pours a little more, "Don't you want something to eat too?" He pushes the cheese plate a little closer to her. There's a nod as she qualifies things to him, "No, I understand. We're very different..." although he does look up at her. Does this mean that she's choosing him?
Fern watches him fill the glass, then she frowns lightly. "I don't really like wine," she says softly, reaching to put the glass aside. It does go right to her head, and she typically prefers silly, fruity drinks. She reaches for a piece of cheese, picking it up, but her eyes lift to him, studying him for a second. "We are. Very different. But sometimes differences work together." 
Angel pauses with the glass, "Oh. I didn't know...I...good to know. Do you like champagne? I should have brought that..." but he didn't want to intimidate her. No wine. Check. He puts the bottle back and takes a bit of the cheese as well. "I like that we're different. I wouldn't want to be dating myself, would you?"
Fern shifts her position, twisting sideways from sitting on her knees, scooting a bit until she's near enough to Angel to lean on him lightly. "It's alright, I forgive you for making me drink wine." She finally bites half the piece of cheese she's been holding, "No, I wouldn't want to be dating myself either. I know all my bad habits." Her head tilts back against his shoulder, so she can grin up at him with that. 
"I won't ever do it again," Warren promises. He's still not entirely sure he's reading her correctly...and she's been drinking, so he's not sure that she'll have reached this same decision tomorrow, when she's sober. "Now I get to have the honor of learning all of them, right?" Warren smiles back at her, "And you'll get to learn mine. I'll try very hard not to be too selfish."
Looking up at him, Fern nods, her grin softening. "Yes. You'll learn my bad habits and I'll learn yours." The rest of the piece of cheese is popped into her mouth, and she shifts her gaze, watching an elderly couple walking hand in hand on the path. "They look so happy together," she observes, nodding toward them so Warren knows who she's talking about. "Do you suppose they started out like this? Unsure. Cautious." She pauses, still watching them, before she muses softly, "I don't want to be selfish either, but I knew this was what I wanted days ago." She doesn't look at Warren again, but lets the words hang there. 
Warren's heart is beating rather wildly as he's given the news. He has to be pulled from his thoughts as she points out the elderly couple and he turns his head to watch them, "Probably. Unless they were a one-night stand that just worked out." It's meant to be a bit of a joke there, but it's also cautious and unsure. He moves in a little closer so that he can wrap an arm about Fern and hold her close, "That makes me really happy to hear...and kind of scared." He promised he'd be honest.
Fern moves into the circle of Warren's arm, pressing against his side more firmly, then slowly sliding her arm around his waist. She's careful of his feathers, not wanting to ruffle them. "Tell me why it makes you kind of scared," she says softly, a gentle concern in the words. 
"Because I have no freaking clue what I'm doing? I mean...I know how to impress girls, but you're not like that and that's what I really like about you. And I've never felt like this with any of the other girls that I've taken out," Warren admits after a few moments. "And I don't want you to be scared off by either something I do or the paparazzi."
"You've already impressed me, just by being who you are. By letting me see who you are. I know that's not always easy," she says. Fern sighs softly, admitting, "I haven't really thought much about the people wanting to get your picture. But if you don't know that -you- won't scare me off by now, then you never will. I'm not scared of you, remember?" Her smile drifts back onto her lips as she tilts her head to peer up at him again, a soft challenge in the words. 
Warren arches his eyebrows at Fern, "Is that a challenge?" Not that he's going to try to scare her off, but he might not walk on as many eggshells as he has been. "I know you're not scared of me. I really like that about you." He watches her for another moment or two before offering her some fruit from the plate. "Are you working tomorrow night too?"
Fern doesn't take the offered fruit with her fingers, but leans to nip it from his fingers, grinning around it before she slowly chews. The level hold of her eyes ought to answer his question. Of course it's a challenge. She doesn't hurry, and waits to answer until she's swallowed. "I'm working from open until four tomorrow." 
It takes a moment for him to realize that she wants to be fed. Angel can certainly oblige that. "Four...in the morning? How are you getting back home? You ride the subway at that hour?" His eyes widen at that.
Her head shakes, shifting lightly against his shoulder as Fern corrects gently, "Four in the afternoon. Short day tomorrow." She doesn't confirm that there are times she takes the subway relatively late, seeing how concerned he seems, but never as late as that. One hand snakes out, plucking up a grape, and she offers it near his lips, watching his face. 
Warren breathes a sigh of relief, "Oh. All right. Good. Because I was going to send a car or fly down there myself to pick you up at that hour. It's not safe for anyone to be about then...I won't walk around my neighborhood at 4am." But then again, at that hour, if he needed to be out, he'd be flying. His eyes cross a moment as they try to focus on the grape held so close, but he finally leans forward to take the grape from her fingers, his lips brushing them. "Would you like to get dinner? I won't keep you out too late."
There's a grin again as Warren's eyes cross, but Fern's face sobers at the light touch of his lips. It was just a second, but one of those moments that you're keenly aware of, like a low current strumming your nerve endings, making each one buzz with the sensation, no matter how fleeting. There's a pause before she nods. "I'd like to get dinner with you, yes. And 'too late' is a relative term. So I'll decide what it means." 
Angel just can't see things easily when they're that close to his eyes! His smile returns when she accepts his dinner invitation, "All right. I'll let you decide what 'too late' is." After all, he can always say he's not coming into the office if he wants. Perks of being the VP. He licks his lips once before asking, "Have you...had too much wine? I mean, I kind of really want to kiss you right now, but not if you've had too much wine. I don't want to be taking advantage..."
Fern sighs, letting her head flop backwards. "Finally," she breathes. "I thought you were never going to." She twists, moving easily, shifting to almost face him and smiling, her eyes catching his. "I'm not as think as you drunk I am," comes quietly, with an impish gleam in her eyes. 
There's a little hesitation before he gets the joke and grins a little nervously. "Well, that's good to know. I won't take us to dinner at a wine bar then. I tend to prefer scotch, myself." But it's not a picnic drink. Right! The kiss. Warren takes in a deep breath and lets it out before reaching out to wrap his hands around Fern's waist even as he moves in for the kiss. He's not a complete novice at this, at least.
There's a bare slide closer as Fern's arms drape around Warren's shoulders, her eyes drifting shut a moment before her lips press warmly to his. It's a tentative kiss on her part, waiting to take her cues from him, but even the soft press sends a tingle down her spine. The closeness of him, the warmth, it leaves her a little more dizzy than the wine did. 
He isn't going to push it too much at this first kiss but it's not going to be a schoolboy kiss either. He's been wanting this kiss for a while and it probably shows. He's fairly sure that she can hear his heart pounding against his chest but he kind of doesn't care right now.
Today, he's not a mutant or a freak. Today, he's not a wealthy, Trust Fund kid. Today, he gets to be someone beginning a relationship with someone he cares for. It's a really nice change of pace.
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