AN: Sorry for posting this later than usual - as said before, I am having a super busy week at work, but even more I just wasn't very happy with what I wrote. So I rewrote it a bunch of times. But here goes. The beginning uses a transcript from the original show (which I do not own in any capacity).
"...I didn't mean all that stuff I said earlier," Luke said.
"What stuff?" Lorelai asked.
"Uh, the kid stuff, you know," he replied.
"Oh, it's no big deal," Lorelai brushed it off.
"Yeah, I know, I just… I'm not really as anti-kid as I might have come off," Luke added.
"Drop another sucker in…," Lorelai said.
"Okay, yes. I don't always have the patience for them. They tend to be a little squishy, and that freaks me out a little," he admitted.
"You don't want to have kids, Luke. Or like kids. It's not for everybody," Lorelai discussed.
"I know, but… although I'm quite happy going an entire day without having to deal with someone else's bodily functions, if I ever happen to meet the right person… well it would be a discussion," Luke explained.
"A discussion," Lorelai stated.
"Yes. Probably a short discussion, but still /../ So what about you - you ever think about having another kid?" Luke asked.
"Oh, I don't know how much fun it would be without biology finals and headgear, but sure, if I ever happen to meet the right person, another kid might be nice," Lorelai replied.
This was the conversation that Lorelai kept going over in her head whenever the topic of kids had arisen between her and Luke. It had happened before their time, at least officially. But that hesitation had stayed for too long, not quite wanting a baby bad enough to go the lengths of making it happen. But still there had been something missing and that had led them along the road they were on now. But that was the whole point, wasn't it? They never really wanted a baby, they wanted a child. Lorelai always having appreciated having a kid that one could already talk to like an eaqual, who was more of a friend, and Luke would be spared from jam-hands.
That conversation rang in Lorelai's ears yet again, as she sat at Hartford Town Hall in the third floor hallway, behind the door to the interview room the Social Services used. Leo was inside with a social worker, a child psychologist and a custody lawyer recording his statement of what living with his aunt had been like. That interview had been the price to pay for being able to use what they'd learned the other day so that piece of information could be admissible as evidence when it came to the actual custody trial. First the court needed to decide whether Andrea would be given back Leo's custody and if not, whether it would be suspended for a fixed time or permanently. And these decisions were not taken lightly. And only then would the court decide whether she and Luke, who were already into their 50s, would get a chance at raising him.
While Lorelai definitely had a soft spot for the boy, in a situation like this, having seen ten minutes ago how scared the kid had been to go into that room, she wasn't entirely sure if it was worth putting him through all this. The setting was scary and he seemed to know what the outcome of this would decided whom he was going to live with. Leo had been worried that he might say the wrong thing. And it was two-sided for him too - he didn't want Andrea to hate him for saying it either. It was a battle between what Lorelai and Luke wanted, and what they thought was the right thing for Leo - but they only saw one side to this. Maybe Andrea had changed? She was the boy's only blood relative after all, and surely there was something more to it than just the child support?
"Lorelai, hi," Paris suddenly surprised her, jolting her out of her thoughts, as she emerged from the conference room across the hall with a bunch of other people, most of whom looked bored to hell.
"Hi, I didn't expect to see you here," Lorelai replied.
"I just got out of a COC meeting - what a waste of time," she exhaled with disappointment, after looking around to see who was in earshot, and sank down next to her.
"Have they ever been anything but?" Lorelai pointed out having tried briefly to engage in the activities of the Stars Hollow Chamber of Commerce which hadn't barely been worth the effort.
"So, what brings you here?" Paris asked.
"I'm here with Leo, he's giving his statement on the custody matter," Lorelai explained briefly.
"So he's moving on already?" Paris asked, unaware of their fairly recent decision to try to adopt him.
"We don't really know yet. We're hoping he might get to stay with us actually," she shared. Lorelai was still not quite eager to express it, not daring to get her hopes up. She didn't make any more plans than a few weeks ahead, she didn't rush to buy the kid spring and summer clothes or reserve summer camp, unsure if he was going to be around. It wasn't that she didn't want to - oh she was ready to buy all of those things even if he ended up being taken away just so he would have everything he'd need. But right now it was like waiting for the axe to fall.
"So you're really willing to risk the genetic lottery? I mean he really has some big Rory-sized shoes to fill? There are probably some addiction traits as well," Paris pondered out loud.
"Huh," Lorelai mused demonstratively, adding, "life's about experiences isn't it - maybe it's time I try my hand at raising the potentially difficult kid?" with a slight chuckle. She knew that was just how Paris was - after all she'd known Paris for a long time and learned very well how to not take her directness as insults. These were really important things to consider. With kids like Rory one really didn't have to try so hard, while some were just drawn to trouble. But between her a Luke, they liked to think they had their fair share of experience with all kinds of kids and people in general.
"Hey, you might be able to answer me something," Paris began, diverting from the former subject.
"Ask away, Paris," Lorelai replied.
"How does one start dating again after one has kids? I mean I can find them and on some rare occasions when they are not complete morons, how does one actually trust them enough to let them near one's kids," she asked. It was perhaps more of a pondering than a real question. For nearly four years Paris had seen men, but she hadn't dated them - using a variety of hook-up apps and a series of trigger questions kept her just barely from going insane, but doing anything more that might have actually provided her with some simulating adult conversation at the dinner table was another story. She missed having someone to confide in, someone to ramble to when someone was being annoying, even down to the simple act of cuddling.
"In my case - I didn't. I think the first time Rory ever saw one of my boyfriends or rather dates was when she was 16. Max...," Lorelai explained.
"So eight years to go, whoopee," Paris exclaimed theatrically, with an underthought of sarcasm.
"Sometimes you've just got to risk it you know, when it feels right," Lorelai suggested. Lorelai realized that suggesting Paris to go with her gut was pretty much equivalent to asking someone to drive a car while blindfolded, but it wasn't like she had an answer for her. Lorelai understood also, from this and the time she'd visited Paris together with Rory a few weeks ago that what Paris was, was lonely. Paris didn't make friends easily, and with Rory now having a whole other world to deal with, and Celeste being her go-to person more often than not, she really couldn't blame her. She'd felt it too.
It was then the door opened and Leo, looking relieved, emerged from room and voluntarily took Lorelai's hand as she rose to leave.
"Hey, Paris…," Lorelai began, wanting to say something more. "If you ever want to have lunch or some coffee - we could do that, you know," she suggested. There had been times like this before, when lunch had provided some odd sense of comfort, a replacement of sorts. She genuinely felt for her and she recognized the pattern well enough - throwing herself to work and not allowing herself to enjoy life. And if lending her ear would help, it was the least she could do, because after all, at some brief moment there in the past Paris had truly been one of her 'foster kids' in the broad sense of the word. Maybe that was what she needed too?
Finn drove back to his sister's in a cool gray khaki Subaru XV that evening. It was a replacement car he had until his own car got cleaned and repaired, apparently having missed a couple of services as he really only drove the Wrangler one month a year, but truthfully he was very tempted to simply replace the damn thing with the Subaru in question, having little faith the cleaners would get the scent of the smoke out.
"Was the damage to the Jeep too great so you had to go shopping?" Sylvie exclaimed with some judgement in her tone, as she was just getting some of the kid's gear out of the trunk of her own Toyota Proace. She'd seen the mess that Finn's Jeep had been that morning, but hadn't really had a chance to ask him about it.
"Not quite yet, but we'll see. The Jeep is at the dealers," Finn replied honestly.
"Care to tell me what you were up to with it?" Sylvie asked, as she carried her daughter's backpack and rollerblades towards the house.
The ash and debri had been self-explanatory, so he really didn't need to spell it out for her that the car had been around a bushfire.
"Nah, you'll just worry for nothing," Finn sighed, placing his arm around her and hugging her sideways. It had been scary, and frankly he was really happy just to see her again, for a moment the thought having crossed his mind that the possibility of him not making it out of there could've have become reality.
"Dinner will be ready in 20," Sylvie said, as they walked up the stairs to the main house, side by side, letting it go. He liked having Finn around, but seeing him right there always made her wondered whether he was really happy - how far would shopping, partying and other type self-induldgement really suffice? But she wasn't his mother, even though she sometimes felt he needed some mothering.
"Uncle Finn, come play with us!" Chloe, Sylvie's five year-old announced, the three and a half year old Paige trailing after her, jumping up and down excitedly, having not seen him in several days, as they reached the wrap-around porch with Sylvie. As Finn only visited about once a year it was painful to see how kids really grew up too damn fast. But nevertheless he was always well-liked by the kids no matter whether they were Sylvies or one of his other sibling's.
Twenty-five minutes later Finn sat at the long birdseye maple dining table, with several clip-on bows stuck in his hair, his toe- and two-three fingernails painted baby pink and some glitter applied to his left cheek going along with the girl's plan to help him get ready for dinner. But he really didn't mind.
"God, Finn - you look like you're ready for Miss Brisbane," Sylvie chuckled as he joined the dinner table, bringing a large bowl of salad to the table.
"We made him pretty," Paige announced.
"And I feel very pretty. Thank you, darling," Finn replied, smilingly.
Meanwhile Harrison and Veronica, one of Sylvies old friends, whom Finn knew just as long as she did, had arrived. Veronica, a curly haired petite woman currently wearing a short shift dress, lived just a block away, hence being a frequent visitor at the house.
"Here you go," Harrison said as he brought a heavy oven pot of creamy lemon zucchini pasta to the table, the fragrance of the lemon and basil already filling the room. The man was impressively tall and his silverish-grey-hair and beard accented his darkly tanned skin, which was an occupational peculiarity, with strong contrast. Harrison was a landscape architect who had his own company, which essentially meant that he too worked quite a bit outdoors exhibiting a permanent tan despite sunscreen.
"Smells great," Finn sighed, feeling relieved that as the day went on the smell of smoke was slowly beginning to replace with other much more pleasant scents.
They talked a little about what was going on at the kid's preschool and a little about Sylvies work, her having gotten a new project at a new school that was being built.
"So, Finn - what are your plans?" Veronica asked, after taking a sip of her Chardonnay, as the night went on. This was the first time she had seen him since last year.
Finn knew better than to give her a straight answer, knowing that Veronica had for a while had some interest in him. She was a childless divorcee, a local busy-body with four cats and a love for antiques. They had nothing in common. He wasn't sure what the woman saw in him.
"Oh, just this and that," he replied.
"How was Noosa, Finn?" Sylvie asked, seeing his brother's attempts to divert, adding to Veronica, "Archie is selling his old place," as a side-comment, as also Veronica knew who Archie was. They'd all gone to the same school back in the day.
"Excellent as ever," he replied. "Smooth sand, nice waves, excellent Mangrove Jack and beautiful scenery," he added, adding the latter for those who knew what he meant by that. There definitely had not been a shortage of beautiful sheilas. Frankly he would've just liked to have said a few descriptive words about the company they'd had out loud just to deter Veronica a little, but he knew better with preschoolers at the table.
"It must be hard for Archie to sell that place," Sylvie commented, knowing how he'd grown up there.
"He didn't seem too upset about it. The place is old, could use some work," Finn commented.
"I bet he's getting a pretty buck for it," Harrison pitched in.
"Yeah, but if he's moving here then he won't get a place that's half as nice," Sylvie discussed, knowing a bit about the local realestate prices.
"I don't think he's really the type of guy who's looking for a house," Finn replied, knowing Archie really wanted something with minimal maintenance on his part.
As the others continued to discuss real estate, Finn felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He usually tended to always check right away what it was about, in case it was something concerning work back in New York. This usually meant that he stayed up until 3 AM on most nights and slept until noon, handling smaller matters from the distance that he hadn't been able to delegate.
It was Charlie, the notification telling him that she'd send him a friend request on Facebook and this definitely caught his attention.
The message he got next made the dissapointment show in his face however.
"I'm going to have to cancel on you tomorrow," it said.
"Finn, no work at the dinner table," Sylvie mildly scolded him, seeing him turn all serious. She didn't really mind him checking his phone, but this was supposed to be setting a good example for the kids, even if it was just her two kids at the table that night, who were being raised much less stricktly than Harrison's kids, creating all kinds of tension between his ex-wife and her.
He was just about to put the phone away but the weak sound of Charlie typing something caught his attention. At least she was adding an explanation.
"I'll be right back," he excused himself from the table, taking the phone out through the wide-open porch doors and sat down on the couch just around the corner, still hearing the casual dinner-table banter in the background.
Finn wasn't sure why he'd been hoping on it as much as he had, why he was as dissapointed as he was and why it felt so important to give her his full attention at that moment. He felt concern, curiosity and... something else. It wasn't just about chancing a girls - those emotions he understood, he'd done that so many times. Perhaps it was the recognition of something resembling a friendship, something similar to what he'd had with G - or at least the potential of one.
"I got a job. I need to take a shift tomorrow," Charlie added.
"Could you do Wednesday instead?" Charlie asked, making Finn sigh with relief. At least there was that.
Finn felt like he should be less eager to reply and admit that he really had no plans whatsoever. But he really didn't want to play games and pretend to be busy when he really wasn't.
"Sure, same time?" he messaged back.
Charlie replied with a 'like'.
"What's the job? Finn continued, curiously.
"Pablo & Rusty's on Mary St," Charlie replied. It was a fairly well known coffee shop, and Finn made the logical and correct conclusion that she must've gotten a waitressing job.
He almost wanted to type, sliding into his old flirty self, that he would know where to go for his coffee, but he reconsidered. They were friends. And being borderline flirty had created problems before.
"Decent place," he simply typed back.
In a way he was glad that at least they had a line of communication going now. While she would now be able to see a lot more about who he was, his profile didn't state his job or education, but technically based on his friends list it wasn't too hard to figure out how that divided between Australia and the States.
"Ok, got to go," Charlie typed, leaving it at that.
It was funny how she'd only been in town for a day and she already had a job, already had places she needed to go to. She was a puzzle waiting to be solved and Finn knew he'd probably spend his time after dinner browsing through her profile. He considered briefly even googling her having already resisted the temptation the entire day, but somehow he didn't want to go there - just like he hoped she wouldn't do it either.
Jess hadn't seen the Apparatus Bay with the real sign yet, hence that day, as he arrived home instead of driving into the driveway, he parked out front like a customer would and took in the sight of the place. They'd truly come a long way - the dark framed gridded windows no longer had apper covering them and if one looked really carefully one could already peek inside and see the shelves.
He definitely recognized the face that looked back at him as he did that, casting a broad smile on both of their face.
Celeste walked over to the store door and unlocked the door for him.
"You're early," she said, kissing him then as she wrapping her one arm around his neck, while the other held dust cloth, she'd just been using to give the shelves a once over. Boy, there were a lot of shelves.
"What, you're not happy to see me?" he teased with a crooked smile, as he closed the door behind him, the old-fashioned shopkeeper's bell ringing again. He'd indeed moved some things around and gotten back half a day earlier, desperately wanting to get home.
"Definitely happy," she replied, kissing him again.
Jess held her tightly, not wanting to let her go.
"The planning is almost done," Celeste announced, feeling particularily happy that G had put the dresses for sale and some seemed to be quite popular, the Elie Saab in particular.
"Already?" Jess asked, feeling a little guilty for not being able to contribute as much as he would've liked.
"I dipped into our savings a little for the band, but I should be getting some things sold by next week. And then it's just the appetizers to handle. Oh, and you should go over the website when you have a chance," Celeste explained, feeling like she needed to come clean about their joint finances. She'd spent the morning crossing one thing off the list after another, feeling particularily proud of herself.
"That all sounds fine," he said, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, as his other hand stroked her arm. Frankly she had much better ideas than talking about the to-do list while they were alone in the house, and Celeste could tell. "Wait, what are you selling?" he felt he needed to ask, the statement having distracted him for a moment.
"Some of my dresses," she replied, wanting to make it seem less of a big deal.
"Huh," he responded, pondering for a moment if this was hard for her. He knew a lot of her problems led back to her past life, and this was touching these subjects for sure. This was also the first year when he was no longer invited to the HPG gala, which also was in a way the end of an era - no more fancy events and evening gowns, unless he made an actual effort to go to pay for attending one. They were like regular people now - there wasn't any special treatment, no more red carpets.
"It's fine," she replied, seeing in his face that he was worrying about her. She didn't feel like discussing it any further, the letter she'd written to her mother safely tucked into her bedside table. She'd cried a good few hours while and after writing it, and she still strugled to really decided what she needed to do with the topic. The family subjects still bothered here, even now, years later, without the name, the money or the connections. She was French but she wasn't, she had history, but she didn't.
She just wanted to change the subject, falling back into the old pattern of wanting to forget herself in him, as she kissed him then. It was a long sensual kiss that only really meant one thing. She wordlessly led him upstairs and he didn't argue. She knew she shouldn't do this - not for this reason as this had been something they'd agreed on in the spring - but she just didn't know how to do it any differently. Feeling him, touching him, always made her feel better.
Finn had spend a good few hours the other day browsing through Charlie's Facebook profile. She hadn't left any traces of where she was from, where she lived, what her job or education was. But there were pictures, some friends and some posts.
Most of the pictures were of various landscapes, some selfies but mostly without lengthy statements. It was just her sitting legs crossed on a balcony in what looked liked the white, bright blue-roofed buildings of Santorini or doing the traditional lean against the Piza tower type of photos. She'd definitely traveled - there were pictures of her from Cuba, Las Vegas, Bangkok, Rome and London. There were a few photos of her in snowy conditions, wrapped up to her nose in a cosy winter parka - Scandinavia maybe? Canada? Vermont? Finn really couldn't be sure.
There were a couple of pictures of her with some friends - having a beer at some random bar from when she seemed younger, one of her hugging a blue-eyed Siberian Husky and another of her steering a small motorboat somewhere sunny. Of the more recent ones there were a couple of group pictures people had tagged her in form the plantation - some birthday celebration, and one of her in Melbourne by the Federation Square with some tourists. She'd clearly made friends along the way whereever she went.
After he'd finished, feeling slightly embarrassed for social-media stalking her like that, he'd looked through his own profile. He didn't really do that normally and frankly for the first time he felt a little ashamed of it's content. But it was too late to do anything about it now.
He'd fairly frequently posted to both Instagram and Facebook mostly of him partying in one establishment or another, a few of him in holiday mode on some beach somewhere or on his rooftop terrace back in New York. There were a few of him with his nieces and nephews, his sister, and even one with Finny and Logan that Rory had taken. The latter ones he really was quite proud of.
It had taken Finn a significant amount of effort not to arrive early or to not think of it as a date, feeling excited about this dinner, but at the same time knowing he should keep his cool. As he pulled up, he noticed her standing already outside waiting for him but she didn't seem bothered. She was dressed in a knee-length dark blue floral wrap dress, wearing the same pair of minimalist sandals she'd worn when he'd last seen her. She most definitely had a thing for braids, having braided a waterfall style braid crown into her hair, which Finn noticed thanks having spent last Christmas learning a few of those styles on Chloe's demand on Youtube.
Charlie didn't recognize him with the change of cars, so it took him a brief moment to get out of the car and walk over, having parked it a few spots further from her.
"Hey, over here," Finn called out. He was dressed in a simple semi-casual short sleeved dress shirt and a pair of chino shorts, but this was what he wore pretty much daily around here.
Charlie looked around for a sec, trying to locate from what direction the voice resonated from. Her face lit up as she saw him, and it had a certain innocence to it.
"Hey! New wheels?" she asked, noting the car.
"Replacement. But I don't know...I kind of like it. You can help me decide," he pondered out loud. After all this was part of who he was - impulsive and appreciating pretty things - hiding it would be almost as good as lying.
"I like the color," she noted and sat into the passenger's seat.
"So, you have a place in mind or...?" he asked, wondering whether he needed to do the thinking that night.
"I do actually," Charlie said. "I made a reservation at the Stokehouse Q, do you know it?" she asked.
Of course Finn knew the place. It was a fairly fancy restaurant on the South Bank, with gorgeous views overlooking the river and the Goodwill bridge from it's terrace. He'd been there a few times over the past couple of years and it was mostly a popular lounge for friends and families, but also dates.
"Yeah, South Bank it is," he said and pulled off.
While he drove Charlie casually browsed one of Finn's playlists on the monitor, glancing at him briefly to see if it was 'okay'. He really didn't mind - he preferred boldness to hesitance any day. She chose 'Marigolds' by Kishi Bashi, surprising him with her less than conventional choice.
"So how's the job?" Finn asked after a few minutes.
"It's a job, the colleagues are pretty cool, students mostly," Charlie explained.
"Can I ask what kind of logic you have behind taking these jobs as you travel?" he asked.
"If I'm in the countryside I look for whatever is the local experience to have - if it's bananas people grow, I'll try that. I've a picked avocados, planted herbs at the greenhouses. I've sold ferry tickets in Sydney briefly, nightcleaned a convenience store in Perth, I've even tried farm work - shoveling austrich shit essentially," she added laughingly, clearly taking some pride in the variation of jobs. "But in cities, coffee shops are usually fairly easy to blend into and they don't mind if it's just short term," she explained.
"So how many jobs have you had, say… past year?" Finn inquired, curiously.
"Hmm…," she pondered, counting in her head. "I think like 14-15?" she replied.
"Just Australia or…?" he asked.
"And New Zealand," Charlie specified, observing his impression. "Lord of the Rings," she felt she needed to add as an explanation, knowing how many Australians saw New Zealand.
"So has it been like you've expected?" Finn continued, just as they reached the Story Bridge. He'd made the assumption that this sabbatical that she was on was her first time in the country.
"The nature, sure. That everything seems to be trying to kill me like the travel books say - yeah. But people and experience wise - actually no. But I think I just had faulty expectations," Charlie explained with surprising honesty.
Finn didn't inquire further at that point, as he was getting a call.
"Do you mind if I take this?" Finn asked, noting it was in fact his mother.
"Sure," she replied.
"Hi mom," Finn answered on speaker phone, wanting to make it clear whose call he was taking.
"Hey, I just wanted to ask if you are coming around on Sunday for a barbie?" his mother asked. "Sylvie and the kids are coming, and Jamie and Amanda. Sean is still undecided," she explained.
"Yeah, I think I can swing it," he replied. "Text me if you need me to bring anything, alright?" he added.
He had a fairly good relationship with his mother, even if they didn't speak on a daily basis. He was glad to help her when he was around, and when it came to family dinners or barbeques he hardly ever said no - it was in part the reason why he came back here each year after all.
"Alright, see you then," his mother replied.
"Bye," Finn said before hanging up.
"Big family?" she asked, making the logical assumption.
"Kind of, yeah," Finn replied, demonstrating the two pink nails on his right hand and getting a chuckle from her in response.
His attention soon became a little scattered, trying to look for a parking spot by the restaurant.
"I have two sisters and two brothers," Finn added once he'd located a spot, deciding to share a little more.
"Let me guess - middle child?" Charlie guessed, observing him.
"Yeah, how do you know?" Finn laughed.
"I guess it takes one to know one, but technically I just have one half-sister left - my younger brother died when he was a teenager," she added.
"Sorry about that," Finn replied, the mood changing to grim for a moment. He was surprised how much she was willing to open up that day, and how effortlessly that all came - quite a difference compared to when they'd met.
"Alright, the place should be right there," Finn gestured to the restaurant in question, and they both got out of the car. It was a modern building placed between Alexander palms, right by the river.
Just minutes later they were shown to their table, in the shade but still on the terrace, which was kind of perfect after the hot day.
Finn observed her with curiosity, wondering whether he should be pointing out that the place was kind of expensive on a waitressing budget, but he couldn't see a single winch in her face as she perused the wine list. She looked like she did this all the time.
"Wine?" she asked.
"Sure, white preferably," Finn replied, not objecting. If it had been a date, he'd probably have given her the freedom of choice, but truthfully he just wasn't a huge fan of red wines and he saw no reason to hide it the format providing some freedom to be more selfish.
"Alright," Charlie replied.
The two gave their orders a moment later, Charlie picking out the bottle of wine. Charlie glanced out over the water, enjoying the mild breeze, with an almost tourist-like impression where everything still seeming new and fresh to her in a new location.
"So, I have to ask," Finn began. "Did you google me?" he added.
"Ah… google - no, but I'll admit, I browsed your pictures are little," Charlie confessed, looking down to the table, where she was fidgeting with the empty wine glass. "Did you?" she shot the question around.
"Same," Finn admitted with some relief. "Though on my defence I have to say that I am much more inclined to snap pictures of myself if I've had a few drinks so the sample is kind of skewed there," he said on his defence. It was weird that he cared, he'd never before really cared about impressions.
Charlie laughed, but she got it - social media was hardly ever very reflective of what the person was really like.
"So what might one find that you are so concerned about?" Charlie asked out front. "Maybe you're a serial hitchhiker killer after all?" she added humorously.
Finn smiled, pondering what to say.
"I guess, as you said - people make judgements based on careers and things like that, that don't necessarily say a whole lot about the person," he explained. "And I guess I've had a few interesting adventures in my past which I am not entirely sure I'm very proud of - there may have been some stupid extreme sport events in the past," Finn explained. Logan's Costa Rica incident had made it to the news back then, and he hadn't exactly made the most lucid comments on it at the time. There were also some pieces of some events he'd thrown together, some interviews about the family company, he'd even been on a list of eligible bachelors of New York once.
"Well it's a little similar for me. I'm taking a year out of that life and I like this clean slate feeling," Charlie explained.
"So what type of thing might one find then - except for the career part which you've mentioned a little already," Finn continued.
In the meanwhile wine was brought to the table - a refreshing Sauvignon Blanc which Charlie tasted before accepting.
"I guess…," she began, as Finn had already nearly thought she'd forgotten about his question. It was strange - the curiosity seeming mutual despite this not actually being a date as such. "There might have been a couple of career related awards in the past, graduations, some dog-related volunteer work, not much really - I'm honestly pretty boring," she added, humbly.
"I find it hard to believe," Finn replied and took a sip of his wine. "Good wine," he commented on her choice.
"Do you mind if I ask where you are from… I mean you told me you're visiting family here," Charlie inquired.
"I don't mind. I am from here originally but I mostly live in New York these days," Finn shared. "Mostly due to work and friends," he hadded.
"Hm…," she mused, swallowing her sip of wine first before replying. "Well technically, considering the distance we're from North America right now I'm not very far from you in that case. Montreal," she replied.
"Ah..," Finn exhaled, her last name and accent beginning to make a little bit more sense now.
Soon their food was brought to the table and the two enjoyed their steaks, after all this was what the place was known for. They continued to talk about Brisbane, Finn sharing his insider knowledge and her telling him about some of the interesting people she'd met during her recent travels. They talked a little about their families, the dynamics of them, not going into too much detail.
Towards the end of their their meal Finn could see her impression transform to more serious, wondering if it was something he'd said or done.
After they'd finished, Charlie insisted on paying for the meal, despite Finn's explanation that she really didn't have to. But there was no arguing with her.
"Finn?" Charlie began, as they walked out of the restaurant. "I just didn't want to say this in there," she stopped and gestured back towards the restaurant.
She took a deep breath.
"Thank you for stopping that night," she said. She wanted to add that she wanted to thank him for saving her life, but she no longer could get the words out. She'd had a feeling she might lose the battle to her tears, hence not wanting to do it inside the restaurant, and here they were.
While Finn had assumed this was a 'thank you' dinner, Finn could now see the event had shaken her perhaps more than she'd let on before, appearing all strong and brave before. But in a way he figured that he should've guessed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to get emotional like this," she blubbered, trying to gather herself, wiping off her cheeks.
Finn stopped fighting the urge to be his physical self and hugged her, stroking her back assuringly.
"I'm glad I took that road," he whispered. There really hadn't been any question about stopping. "You're okay," he added assuringly.
"They sent me a photo of the car yesterday, it was pretty horrible," she explained as she pulled apart.
"Did you get the things sorted with the company? I could give them a call if you want, I could verify that the car didn't work," Finn inquired practically as she'd calmed down. He also knew that his name had some influence in the tourism world, which might help resolve things a little quicker, if needed.
"Yeah, I did. They're just charging the small deductible, and that's fine - there's no point in wasting time and money over going to court with them for something like this," she replied.
"Still - jerks," Finn sympathized. It didn't seem fair despite the deductible being fairly reasonable. He almost wanted to give them a call, but he felt like he'd be overstepping unless she asked for his help.
"Yeah," she agreed and they walked along the river for a while, the street being quite busy for a weekday evening.
"Ice cream?" he suggested, wanting to cheer her up, almost falling into the tricks one might use to cheer up one of his nieces. But it was innocent enough, and had the hoped effect.
Later they laid on the grass just by the river for some time, continuing to talk and eating their ice creams. Their favourite travel locations provided a lot of material for discussion. There wasn't an awkward pause or lack of subjects or interest - and frankly if they hadn't agreed on it first hand - it would've sounded a lot like a first date.
Finn drove her back to her place later, letting her walk out of his car without further concrete plans. Finn realized that there was a fragile balance between them for now - clearly they liked each-other's company and perhaps even each other - he'd have to be completely oblivious to misread her on that. But for this reason also he didn't want to push it and seem too eager - he could almost sense that it would've been too easy to slip into believing that this was something more. But as she had been so concrete about it the other day, he felt it was too soon to even inquire why she was so insistent on staying just friends. Surely there was a story there. He needed to give it time - whatever it was.
AN: I want to do something with Paris, she seems kind of stuck and forgotten. Feel free to shoot me some ideas if you want!
Reviews are a little like oxygen to me ;)