Because that throwaway line about Cassandra being afraid of ravioli might be the funniest thing I've heard all year.
As always, nothing here is mine, and please leave a review! :)
Jacob Stone wasn't alone in the Library for long before Cassandra Cillian popped into the room, two mugs in her hands. His eyes met hers across the room, and she shot him a kind smile. They held their shared gaze until she took a seat on the other side of his desk, just as she had done before. She took a sip from the mug she had designated as hers and offered him the other.
"A little late for coffee, ain't it?" he asked.
"It's hot chocolate," she told him. "With marshmallows. Comfort drinks. The safe kind."
He laughed lightly as she hurriedly added phrases, almost as if she felt she needed to defend bringing him a drink. Stone briefly wondered if she was hanging around just to make sure he didn't find solace in something stronger, but regardless of the reason, he liked the company. He took a sip from his own mug, and she grinned again.
"Surprised you're still here," he said.
"I'm always here," she shrugged.
They spoke in hushed voices, as if they were in a regular library instead of in their own little corner of the universe.
"I got somethin' to show ya," he said, a gleam in his eyes.
Cassandra watched eagerly as he picked up his laptop and turned it around to face her again. It took a few seconds for her eyes to find the change in the document in front of her, but when she did, her face softened, and she looked to him with an admiration.
"Dr. Jacob Stone," she said delicately, marveling over the words. "But your reputation…"
"Maybe I'm tired of being someone I'm not," Stone said honestly. "It might take some time, but I can tie all them identities together. Here's as good a place as any to start."
Cassandra stared at the name in front of her for another moment before she said, with a little nod, "I'm proud of you, Jacob."
He smiled the smile that seemed to be reserved only for her, the one that both crinkled and lit up his eyes all in one go. He turned the laptop back to his side of the desk. After a moment, his face turned serious. "I shoulda known that wasn't you on that site," he said. "I'm sorry I thought you'd really said all those things."
The expression on her face filled with a subtle sadness as she replied, "I'm sorry you thought that, too."
"Can I make you dinner sometime?" he asked her. "Maybe tomorrow night?"
Her blue eyes focused on his as her mouth fell open in sudden surprise. "Dinner like…an unnecessary apology?" she asked, testing the waters.
"Not exactly what I was thinkin'," he admitted.
"So dinner like a date?" she asked with another small grin.
"Yeah, somethin' more like that," Stone replied with a quick wink.
Cassandra's mouth closed with a coy smile as she nodded slowly. Then, without a word, she picked up her mug of hot chocolate and headed for the door to leave him alone with his work. In the archway, she paused and looked back to him one last time.
"See you tomorrow, Cassie," Stone said.
"It's a date," she said. With another grin and a little shrug to her shoulders, she was gone.
Stone took another sip of the drink she'd made for him before he turned back to his laptop. Maybe this case hadn't turned out so bad after all.
The next evening, Cassandra wrapped up the project she was working on earlier than normal, telling Colonel Baird that she had something that evening she needed to get ready for. She and Stone were usually the last ones standing, seemingly waging a battle as to who could stay in the Library the latest, even on slow days, so when Stone started closing books, indicating his shared intention to leave before the sun went down, Ezekiel knew something was up.
"Have a good night, Ezekiel," Cassandra said as she picked up her things. As she passed the desk where Stone still worked, without stopping, she gently touched his shoulder and said, "I'll see you soon."
Stone nodded as she left, and Ezekiel sauntered over to Stone's desk, perching on the edge.
"So…what was that about?" Ezekiel asked.
"Nothin'," Stone grumbled.
"Right, okay, you and Cassandra never leave this place at a normal, human hour, but sure, that was nothing," Ezekiel said sarcastically.
"We're havin' dinner, okay?" Stone said. "It ain't a big deal."
"Dinner like a date?" Ezekiel asked.
"No," Stone said, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Can I come then?" Ezekiel asked. He had absolutely no desire to have dinner with his fellow Librarians, but he knew asking to join would get the truth out of Stone.
Sure enough, just as the younger man expected, Stone grumbled, just as quickly as before, "No, you can't."
"So like a date," Ezekiel said, pushing himself off the desk in triumph. Realizing he'd been played, Stone caught Ezekiel's eye in an unamused glare. Ezekiel chuckled and said, "So where you taking her?"
"What are you doing?" Stone asked.
"Well, I have to eat, too, and you wouldn't want me to end up in the same place, now, would you?" Ezekiel taunted, still playing him.
"Not gonna happen," Stone said. "I'm cooking."
"You're too cheap to take the girl out on a first date?" Ezekiel replied. He lowered his voice and said, mostly to himself, "And he thinks he plays in a higher league than I do…come on…"
"Cooking shows some effort, a concept I'm sure you don't know nothin' about," Stone argued. "It's more romantic."
"Why do you need romance if it's not a date?" Ezekiel sassed in reply. The angry look on Stone's face hardened a little, and Ezekiel stifled a snicker. Stone really did just make it too easy sometimes. Unable to let it go, Ezekiel added, "So what are you making?"
"Why all the questions?" Stone asked again. "You ain't her father."
"I'm an inquisitive person," Ezekiel said. "Humor me."
"I was thinkin' grilled chicken and ravioli," Stone said. "It's kind of my Italian specialty."
"Wait, you're making Cassandra ravioli?" Ezekiel asked.
"Yeah, you got some smartass comment to make about that, too?" Stone asked, his patience thinning.
"Nope," Ezekiel replied. A small, very small, part of him thought he should do Stone a favor and suggest another dinner idea. He even tried to rationalize saying something by telling himself he would really be helping Cassandra instead of Stone. Averting someone else's disaster wasn't really his style, though, so with one last smirk, he picked up his car keys and said, "Enjoy."
When the clock struck seven, Stone heard a light knocking at his door. He called out an acknowledgment, adjusted the controls on his oven, and headed to the front door to greet his date. Cassandra stood just outside, a plastic container under her arm. Stone briefly let his eyes wander up and down her body. She had dressed up for the night in, standing before him in a vintage-inspired dress, jewel-toned sweater, and kitten heels (literally, Stone thought, as he noticed the cat faces on the toes of her shoes.)
"Hey there," he said with a smile.
"Hi," she replied. She held out the container. "I brought dessert."
"You didn't have to do that," he said, taking it from her arms.
"It's not much, really. They're just brownies. I wanted to contribute something," she said. As the door swung shut behind her, she added, "Also, I left the Library too early, got ready too fast, and then needed something to keep me busy until seven."
He chuckled lightly. At least he wasn't the only one who was a little nervous.
"You look beautiful, Cassie," Stone told her.
She took a breath and smiled shyly as she said, "You're not so bad yourself."
A silent air with a hint of awkwardness settled over them as they stood just inside his door for a few moments. He finally remembered what he had been in the middle of before she arrived and turned back towards the kitchen.
"Dinner's, uh…dinner's not quite ready yet," he admitted.
"That's okay," she said. "I could help."
"No," he said. Realizing how abrupt that sounded, he corrected himself. "I mean, you could, but I said I'd make you dinner, so I'm gonna make you dinner."
"Okay," she agreed. He led her to one of the chairs at his kitchen counter.
"Wine while I finish up here? I've got either kind."
"Wine, not beer?" she asked with a hint of a teasing tone.
"Food's Italian," he said. "Goes better with wine."
"True," Cassandra agreed. "Either's fine."
He poured her a glass and headed back around the counter to continue cooking. She stood at the end of the counter and grinned as he began working again. While it was a little strange to just stand there and not help with the meal preparations, it'd been a long time since someone had made her dinner, so Cassandra decided she was going to enjoy being waited on. She shook the loose red curls that framed her face back and took a sip of the wine as her eyes surveyed the messy counter in front of her.
He was making a tomato sauce from scratch; that was an easy deduction. She knew that as soon as she walked in the door. Half-empty containers of spinach and mushrooms sat next to several different kinds of cheeses; a cheese grater and a mixing bowl weren't too far away. Then Cassandra noticed the dough and the rolling pin and the circular cookie cutter, and she felt her stomach tie into a different kind of nervous knot. Oh no…
She took another sip of the wine and shook her head at how ridiculous she was being. There were a thousand different Italian dishes he could make her. She didn't know for sure it was…
"You don't have to stand there, ya know," Stone said, turning from his place at the stove to look at her. "Sit. Get comfortable."
As Cassandra saw the stuffed, half-moon-shaped pastas fall into the boiling water, she knew that wasn't likely. Her eyes widened as he turned back to their dinner, blissfully unaware of the absurd panic that was bubbling inside of his date. She took a significantly larger sip from the wine glass and sunk into one of the counter stools on a twirl.
Cassandra Cillian, you are being ridiculous, she thought as she kept her eyes locked on the stove. It's ravioli. It's not going to hurt you. It is not scarier than shapeshifters and Fictionals and…and…
As she was giving herself a mental pep talk, he turned to glance at her again. He found her sitting at his kitchen counter, seemingly watching him, and then he was smiling that smile again: the one that both crinkled and lit up his eyes all in one go. She could tell from that one glance that he liked having her there, in his home, in his kitchen, and she knew he was trying to impress her, so she shot him back a smile that she hoped he couldn't tell was now a little bit forced, only letting it deflate when he'd turned away from her again.
And he is being so sweet making you dinner, and he keeps looking at you with that eye-crinkly smile, and you like the eye-crinkly smile, so just…suck it up, Cassandra, she thought.
The next time she looked over at him, he was dishing the food onto two plates, and she wasn't sure what to do. The grilled chicken and the vegetables looked fine, but then he poured a spoonful of the stuffed pasta onto the plates, and she grimaced. Stone picked up one of the plates and turned to her.
"How much sauce you want?" he asked.
"A lot!" she said quickly, nerves finally getting the better of her. Embarrassed by her little outburst, she sunk down in the chair a little and tried to play it cool. "I mean, you're the chef. Whatever you think is appropriate is fine."
He looked like he was trying not to laugh, though secretly, he was still glad he wasn't the only nervous one in the room, and she shot him another false smile that quickly dissolved when he turned his back again. He finished preparing both plates with his homemade sauce and some more grated cheese and started heading for the table. She picked up her glass and slid off the chair to follow him.
"You're out of wine," he said.
"Oh," she said, looking down at the surprisingly empty glass. When had that happened? "I guess I am."
"Refill?" Stone asked.
"Um, no, probably shouldn't," Cassandra said. He shot her a look and she said, "Driving."
Stone nodded and set the plates down onto the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. Cassandra hesitated a few seconds longer than she should've before taking her seat at the table. When she was situated, he took his seat across from her and picked up his fork.
"Well, I hope you like it," he said with a confident grin.
"It all looks delicious," Cassandra said.
And it did; it did look delicious, but the pasta was peeking out from behind the mountain of sauce he'd piled on top of it, and as she picked up her silverware, she wasn't sure how she was going to force herself to eat it. Under any other first date circumstances, she'd probably write the evening off and just leave, but this was Jacob, and even though the first date had barely begun, Cassandra wanted there to be a second. She started in on the opposite side of the plate and hoped he wouldn't notice.
Stone knew something was wrong almost right away. Cassandra was quieter than he'd ever seen her before. She was chattier in life or death situations than she was at his dining room table. Considering they'd been openly flirting for weeks now, he didn't think he could chalk that all up to situational anxiety. He also noticed she was poking at her plate, only eating small bites of chicken on the outermost edge, and, since one of his favorite moments since he'd met her was the look on Ezekiel's face after Cassandra ate three slices of his pizza one late night in the Library, he knew picking at food was unusual for her.
"Darlin', are you okay?" Stone asked.
"What?" Cassandra asked. She looked at him with wide eyes, almost as if he'd pulled her from some faraway mental place. "I'm great."
"You don't like dinner?" he asked.
"It's yummy," Cassandra said with a slightly more genuine smile this time. "This sauce is kind of amazing."
"It's good on the ravioli, too," he said.
She took a deep breath. "Right," she said. Stone watched as she slowly moved her fork to that side of the plate, letting it hover over the pasta.
"We don't have do this, Cassie," Stone finally said, setting his fork down.
"Do what?" she asked, her eyes growing wide again.
"This," he said again. "This doesn't have to be anything more than…friends havin' dinner."
"But…I mean…" she protested. She sighed, her face fell, and she sadly said, "Is that what you want?"
"Well…no," he admitted. "Not really, but you're uncomfortable, and don't tell me you ain't 'cause I can tell you are."
"Oh, but it's not this!" she said, frantically waving her hand between the two of them. "No, Jacob, it's…" She sighed again. She had no choice. She pointed to her plate and calmly said, "It's that."
"What?" he asked.
"That," she said, pointing to the offensive pasta again.
"Dinner?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"Oh, no, not all of it!" Cassandra said quickly as she thought he was beginning to look a little hurt as well. "Just the ravioli part."
"Oh," he frowned. "Do you have a gluten thing? I should've asked…"
"No," she said. "No, it's not…"
"Does ravioli sound like a car crash or something?" Stone asked seriously.
"It doesn't really work like that," Cassandra said with a laugh.
"Then what's wrong?" he asked.
"I have an irrational fear of ravioli, okay?" she finally blurted out.
Stone stared at her for a second before breaking out into genuine laughter. He picked his fork back up, cut one of his own raviolis in half, and popped it into his mouth. After he chewed and swallowed, he chuckled again and said, "You really had me goin' there."
"Jake…" she said.
He used his own fork to spear a ravioli off her plate and offered it to her. Her eyes fixated on the pasta and the tomato sauce dripping off of it.
"A fear of this," he chuckled. "That's funny. Here, try it."
"Please don't make me eat that," Cassandra said seriously.
Stone put the fork containing the ravioli back down. "You're not kiddin'," he realized. Cassandra looked horribly embarrassed and shook her head slightly. "You're…you're afraid of ravioli?"
"They're slimy!" Cassandra said. "And sticky at the same time. How can something be that slimy and that sticky? That's completely illogical, and food should not be that slimy or that sticky." Stone's eyebrows rose slightly as her rant continued. "And I have no idea what's inside of it. People put everything in ravioli, Jacob. Everything. Sure, the menu says cheese, but how do I know that's really all it is? It could be cheese; it could be poison."
"You think I'm trying to poison you?" Stone asked.
"What? No, honey, of course not!" Cassandra replied. She faltered a bit as the pet name that inadvertently slipped out of her mouth hit her ears. "I mean…what if I'm allergic to something inside?"
"You have food allergies?" he asked, realizing that was another question he should've asked before making a meal for her.
"Well, no, but if I did, I wouldn't know if it was in there until it was too late. Why does pasta have to be stuffed anyway? What is it trying to hide?"
"You know what's inside of there," Stone argued. "You saw all the ingredients on the counter."
"I said it was irrational!" Cassandra exclaimed.
Stone sat at the table for a moment, processing the absurdity of what she'd just said to him. Cassandra watched him carefully, her face colored with shame and worry. Silence fell between them until finally, Stone stood from the table, grabbing both plates in his hands. He headed back towards the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked.
"I'm makin' you a new dinner," Stone said.
"What?" Cassandra asked. That wasn't the answer she had been expecting. "No, Jacob, you don't have to do that."
She stood from the table, too, and followed him into the kitchen. He was reaching for a plastic storage container from one of his cabinets, and she watched as he dumped the ravioli into it to save for himself later that week.
"I said I was gonna make you dinner, so I'm gonna make you dinner," Stone repeated. He wrapped the chicken in foil and placed it back into the still-warm oven. "Now are you scared of all Italian food, or is it just ravioli?"
"It's just ravioli," Cassandra said bashfully. She watched his sure moments around the kitchen with a little bit of wonder. She didn't deserve this.
"So there's nothing scary about manicotti?" Stone asked, pulling a box of noodles off a shelf. "I might have spaghetti back here somewhere, too. I think. That's probably better; manicotti's still stuffed…"
"Yeah, but the ends of manicotti are open, so I can see what's inside of those," she said seriously. "That's fine."
"But it might still be slimy or whatever," Stone said, wanting to make sure she'd be okay with the next meal.
"Yeah, but the ratio of stuffing to noodle is much higher than it is in ravioli, and…" she started. She glanced at him and thought he was looking at her like she had suddenly grown a second head. She let herself trail off and finished with a simple, "It's fine. Really."
Stone pulled out the necessary kitchen ware and turned the stove back on. "Normally, I'd make the noodles myself, but for the sake of time…" he started.
"That's fine," Cassandra assured him again. "You really don't have to…"
"Cassandra," he interrupted. She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes meeting his. "Stop. I'm making you dinner. Sit down."
"Umm…" Cassandra said, her finger raised towards him.
"What?" he asked.
"Well, manicotti's fine, but you should probably let me help stuff it, just to be safe."
He had been trying not to laugh at her ever since he realized she wasn't playing a joke on him, but after multiple assurances that his backup plan was fine, that statement did him in. He laughed, shaking his head lightly. She smiled, too, a little bit of the tension leaving her body.
"Come here," he said.
He pulled out everything he needed to make another batch of the pasta filling, and, deciding she was going to be there a while, Cassandra poured herself another small glass of wine. She made her way over to him, brushing her hand against his back in gratitude. Stone handed her the mixing bowl and the spoon. She found his eyes again and furrowed her brow in a silent question.
"So you can see exactly what's going in there," he clarified.
Cassandra felt her cheeks burn slightly in embarrassment, but she stood there, mixing everything together as he added ingredients to the bowl. He would chuckle every time she tilted her head forward to see what new thing he had just dropped into the bowl, and even though this dinner hadn't turned out anything like either had expected, Cassandra thought it might still be perfect.
Later that evening, after the new dinner had been eaten, they found themselves on Stone's couch with a plate full of Cassandra's brownies and bowls of ice cream. He hadn't planned on the evening going beyond dinner, but neither of them was quite ready for her to leave, so they flipped through the television channels, finally stopping on a movie that was just starting.
When the dessert had disappeared, Cassandra set the dishes on the coffee table in front of her and kicked off her kitten heels, pulling her legs and feet up onto the couch. After a few silent minutes, she glanced over at Stone, wanting to be closer to him. She thought about it for a few more minutes before she indiscernibly scooted towards him on the couch. She shyly looked over at him again, but he didn't notice. Cassandra raised the arm nearest to him and slipped it around the back of the couch behind him, boldly threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. When he reacted to her touch, looking at her in a bit of surprise, she let her hand fall around his shoulders and shot him a grin.
"I think that's supposed to be my move during the movie portion of this evening," Stone teased.
Cassandra cutely shrugged and lowly replied, "You made me two dinners; you deserve it."
"Come 'ere," he said, holding out his arm.
Cassandra slid her arm from around his shoulders as he slipped his own arm around her small frame. She cuddled against his side and let her arm rest lightly on his leg. They shared a brief smile and turned back to the movie, both quite content with their new position.
They talked during the unfortunate commercial breaks they had to contend with during the TV film, keeping the conversation light. A few breaks after he had wrapped her in his arm, she let her arm fall off his leg onto the couch and sat up a little, looking at both ends of the furniture as if she were contemplating something.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," she sighed. She fell against him again, a little bit lower, her head against his shoulder. "It's silly."
"Haven't we had a whole night of silly?" he reminded her. A pink glow flushed against her cheeks again as she sat up.
"Can we lie down?" Cassandra asked him, stretching her legs out against her empty side of the couch. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah," Stone said.
Cassandra stayed still as Stone shifted, lying against the arm of the couch. He held out his arm again, and she fell against him, a little sigh escaping her lips as she molded her body to his side. Her head rested against his shoulder, her red hair tickling his neck, as her arm came across his chest. She rested her hand on his other shoulder, and once she was settled, he felt her relax alongside him. The arm holding her was snug around her waist, and his other hand came up to brush some hair back away from her forehead. His fingers sunk into her hair, lightly massaging her scalp, and her eyes closed on another small sigh.
"Are you tired?" he asked softly with concern. "Does your head hurt?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that," Cassandra said. She opened her eyes to look up at him with a delicate smile. "I just wanted to know how we fit."
He grinned and let the fingers that were tangled up in her hair fall down against her cheek. Her sweater had slipped just a little off her shoulder. His fingertips brushed against soft, bare skin on their way back and forth across the arm strewn against his chest a few times before he pulled her sweater back up.
"That's not silly, darlin'," he said, continuing his movements against her arm.
"It felt a little silly," she admitted.
"Nah," he repeated. He tightened his hold on her, and she let one of her legs fall on top of one of his. He thought about how good she felt in his arms and how good he felt tangled up with her, and asked, "Well?"
Cassandra looked up at him with another smile. "So far, so good," she told him.
The commercials on the television ended then, and the new couple on the couch fell silent as they turned to watch the movie again. After a moment, Stone turned his head back to hers and gently, sweetly kissed her forehead. Cassandra's eyes slipped shut again as his lips brushed against her, and when he'd pulled away, when his focus had turned back to the television screen, Cassandra leaned into his neck, her lips curling into a smile against his skin.
The next morning, Stone was back to working on his article, while Cassandra looked through the card catalogue to find the right science book for her own secret project. Ezekiel wandered in, immediately noticing Stone and Cassandra on opposite sides of the room, not talking.
Well, Ezekiel thought. This could be fun.
"So," Ezekiel said, drawing the attention of both of his fellow Librarians. "How'd that ravioli work out for you last night?"
Stone, being no dummy, put two and two together as his face hardened into a scowl, something that never seemed to take long when Jones was around. "You knew 'bout that?" Stone asked.
"You left me in a truth-telling cage with her!" Ezekiel said. "And once she got started…let's just say I now know a lot of weird, random, disturbing things about Cassandra."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me when I told you what I was makin' her?" Stone yelled. He paused before the younger man could come up with a smartass reply and looked to the redhead near the card catalog. "Wait, that was one of your truths?" he asked.
"Yes," she said with a shrug.
"What was the emotional impact of ravioli?" he asked.
"Fear is one of the strongest emotions there is!" Cassandra replied with enthusiasm.
Ezekiel chuckled and ignored Stone's earlier question. "So, uh, did you actually eat it?" he asked Cassandra.
"No," Cassandra admitted, her face deflating. "I was going to; I thought I could; I tried faking it, but no, I couldn't do it."
Ezekiel nodded as a wicked grin crossed his face. "Fake anything else last night?"
Cassandra immediately dropped the cards she was holding, her eyes as wide as saucers as they fluttered to the floor beneath her. Ezekiel's smirk widened, too.
"What?" Stone asked, confused.
"Nothing!" Cassandra called quickly.
She scurried over to Ezekiel and forcefully grabbed his arm, turning him back towards the door with an irate glare. Her grip around his arm tightened as hard as it could, and she started walking, pulling him out of the room behind her.
"You are unbelievable sometimes, you know that?" Cassandra muttered, her voice low so Stone hopefully wouldn't hear. "Sabotaging Jacob's date plans, apparently, was bad enough, but are you kidding me with that?"
"I did nothing!" Ezekiel said. "He sabotaged it all on his own!"
"Well, you could've mentioned it since you seem so apt to share!" Cassandra muttered, a little more forcefully than before. Ezekiel's only response was to laugh some more, and Cassandra thought she could actually feel her blood beginning to boil.
Back in the main room, Stone could hear the mutterings from the hallway, his confusion only growing. Cassandra finally returned with a look on her face that she hoped conveyed a message to Stone to forget what he'd just heard and move on.
"You gonna tell me what that was about?" Stone asked.
Cassandra glanced to her side, making sure Ezekiel wasn't still standing there. Her eyes came back to Stone and she said, "No." She relaxed a little bit and said, "It's nothing. It's Jones."
That was enough said for Stone, so he stood from his desk and made his way over to her, meeting her in the archway of the door.
"So he knew about the ravioli thing," Stone said.
"I'm sorry he didn't have the decency to tell you to maybe think about making something else," Cassandra sighed.
Stone shrugged. "We'll do better next time."
A whisper of surprise filled Cassandra's expression as she hopefully said, "Next time?"
"Dates usually aren't a one-time thing," he flirted, stepping closer to her.
"I know, but you spent all that time making that dinner last night, and then I…I'm crazy and weird, and I screwed it all up, so I would completely understand if you didn't want to…" Cassandra started.
She didn't get to finish giving him an opportunity for an easy out because Stone's hand clutched her face and brought his mouth to hers, their lips meeting in a sweet first kiss.
"I should've done that last night," Stone whispered, caressing her cheek with his thumb as she opened her eyes.
She looked a little bit stunned before meeting his adoring gaze and saying, "I thought it was kind of charming that you didn't. Though I did wonder if it was because of dinner."
He chuckled again and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands instinctively came up to rest on his arms. "You didn't screw up anything," he promised her. "Darlin', it's going to take a lot more than an irrational fear of ravioli to scare me off."
"So we're going to see what this…us…is?" she asked.
"God, yes," he muttered, leaning in again.
Cassandra's hands slid up to his face as he kissed her again. Stopping at just one more kiss proved to be an impossible task, and he gently pushed her just a few steps backwards until her back hit the archway wall. She whimpered softly as the kiss deepened, all thoughts besides why haven't we done this before escaping her mind. Then, the sounds of footsteps in an adjacent room reached their ears, and the kiss was over as quickly as it had begun.
"Not really the place for this," he mumbled, his forehead dropping against hers.
"No," she agreed. Her hands fell from his face, fingers tangling together with his. Their joined hands dangled between them, and her eyes fluttered open as she optimistically asked, "Later?"
He softly pecked her lips one last time. "Later," he said with a wink.
"Wanna have dinner again tonight?" she asked with a grin. Her face sobered almost immediately as she said, "Is that too soon?"
"Not too soon," he confirmed. "I'll make us a reservation somewhere."
"Sounds great," she said, swinging their hands a little before letting go.
She headed back to the card catalog to pick up the mess of spilled cards on the floor, and Stone wandered back over to his desk, using the Internet to find a place to take Cassandra on their second date.
"Hey, Cassie," he called after a few minutes.
"Yeah?" she asked, turning towards him.
With a teasing, affectionate grin, he asked, "Is there anything scary about Mexican food?"