A/N: This one is for Elaine (leroidumonde) on Tumblr.
Double-sided tape.
Two years, two months, and three days since their first meeting. 10:47 pm.
"What the heck is this?" Lincoln asks, eyes wide as he stares at the tape dispenser on Liv's coffee table.
"Uh, I do believe that is double-sided tape," Liv answers, amused. "It's the latest and greatest invention by Kirotech."
"Tape? Who still uses tape anyway?" Lincoln asks, picking up the dispenser for a closer examination. "Double-sided, too? Double-sided? You mean…"
Liv laughs. "Oh my God, Lincoln! Could you be more of a kid?" She takes the dispenser from his hand, tears a strip of tape from it, and sticks it onto his forehead. "Unless…wait. You're not saying you've really never seen double-sided tape before, are you?"
Lincoln gingerly peels the piece of tape from his forehead. "I'm a scientist working for the government, Liv. We don't associate with such ancient and outdated technologies as tape."
"Okay, okay!" Liv holds her hands up in a sign of surrender. But she's still weirded out by his not recognizing something as ubiquitous as double-sided tape. As she traipses into the kitchen for a glass of wine in celebration of their escaping yet another life-threatening fringe case unharmed, she asks, "So when was the last time you used tape, Lincoln? When you were a kid?"
Lincoln scratches the back of his neck and seats himself on a bar-stool at her kitchen counter. "Maybe when I was seven or eight. I had to tape together a print of Manet's painting, 'The Lunch on the Grass,' because I accidentally ran into it."
"You 'ran' into a painting? …Were you running with scissors?"
"I said I ran into a print of a painting, not the painting itself. And yes, I was running with scissors."
"Shame, shame, Lincoln!" Liv says, placing a glass in front of him and pouring him a healthy dose of white wine. "I hope your daddy punished you for your heinous crime, rich boy. I've never seen or heard of Manet's 'The Lunch on the Grass,' but it sounds fancy." She smirks and begins to fill her own glass with liquor.
"'Rich boy,' Liv? Of all the derogatory terms you could've used, you went with 'rich boy.'"
"Well, you were better off than most of us growing up."
"Well, yeah, but I don't like being discriminated against for—"
"Lincoln, let's drop this. Just…promise me you won't run with scissors ever again," she says cautiously.
Lincoln gives her a small smile. "Right. That's a big promise to make, Liv. I don't think that's possible. Running without scissors would cut all the fun out of my life!"
"Is reading science textbooks and memorizing the periodic table not fun enough for you?"
"That's second grade stuff. I need something…spicier."
"You know, if you really wanted something spicy, we could go out for Thai food. Trust me, it might just save your life."
"So are you asking me out on a date, Miss-I'm-Already-Seeing-Someone?"
"Haha, very funny. I'm asking you out to lunch as a friend and as the woman who has had her life saved multiple times by you. Hopefully you'll continue doing so until until I retire. Or die. Either one will work."
"Here's hoping science makes it so that we never do." Lincoln lifts his glass. "Cheers, Liv."
"Cheers, Lincoln."