DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. These are fictional characters created by someone who isn't me, but used in an even more far-fetched situations to satisfy my own sick ends.
The waiter was completely unsure as to what to think of table five. They had ordered a ton of food, so he wasn't worried about his tip, but he was starting to question their sanity. Four people sat at the table, two couples that were making enough small talk to make it obvious to anyone that this was two blind dates. The responsible parties for these two dates, however, were paying more attention to each other than to their dates. They'd done most of the talking, all of the ordering and he'd definitely seen the girl kick the guy more than once under the table. Normally he didn't have all this time to observe his customers, but tonight was an unusually slow night. When he saw the second girl look around the restaurant, he decided to go back and take drink refills to fill in the lull of conversation.
As the waiter came for the fifth time to refill their drinks, Rory looked across the table and gave Amelia an encouraging smile. Of course, she gave Tristan a swift kick at the same time, in order to encourage him to try another conversation. Deciding she should try her own advice, she looked over at Charlie, who was pushing food around on his plate, and every so often raising a bit of food to his face and giving it a sniff. Rory wanted to drag Tristan out into the alleyway and ask him where he picked up this man with no manners, she could only guess he was found in some stray barn from upstate. Charlie was an advertising executive that Tristan met in college. Evidently they were fraternity brothers, which was about the same as her barn scenario in her own mind. Talking to him was beyond a chore, but she was trying to put on a brave face and set a good example. After all, Amelia, though seemingly a bit shy tonight, was a wonderful person. She's bright, interesting, usually cheerful and upbeat without being too annoying—yet Tristan didn't seem to notice her good qualities.
The thing that killed it for Tristan was her instant dislike of the food. Now, had she actually tried the food first and found it offensive to her taste buds, well, that was one thing. But she just looked at it, scrunched up her nose and began drinking her water. She was the reason the poor waiter had to come so often to their table. This guy was earning his tips, though he was more than attentive to their table. Though the way the guy was eyeing Rory, Tristan was sort of thinking that he was being attentive to more than their water needs. Of course, Tristan had to pay attention to Rory this evening—she kept kicking him when he talked to her too much, or started to roll his eyes at his date. He was thinking she was just starting to enjoy bruising his shins with her lethal-looking boots.
"So, Charlie, tell me about your work," Rory pasted on a fake smile as Tristan took a drink of his water in efforts to keep himself busy and therefore unable to talk. He watched Rory's false facial expressions, knowing that she was trying harder than she usually does on dates. That smile wasn't her true smile, and he wanted nothing more than to call her on it. Instead, he put his glass down and looked over to his own date, while listening to Charlie's retort.
"I'm working on an ad for Axe Body Spray," he said, sounding pleased with himself.
Rory held in a loud groan. She loathed most commercials enough; they were truly becoming more and more inane. But she found those particular commercials reprehensible. She thought they might be the worst things ever to be caught on film. But that's not what she said.
"Oh, how interesting," she said, before popping another bite of curry chicken into her mouth, savoring the flavor.
"Amelia, tell me, what's your column about this week?" Tristan asked, as Charlie went back to glaring at his food as if it might come back to life and eat him instead.
"Oh, you read my column?" she said, sounding mildly happy for the first time this evening. For some reason, she found the fact that he was a lawyer offensive. He couldn't help it if his father had managed to rope him into interning at his company during college and he'd found that he was both good at the work and enjoyed it. To this girl, it was some kind of crime to have anything to do with the legal system and make money off of 'those poor defenseless saps' or worse 'freeing maniacs to make a living'. He was overjoyed at her ability to express herself so freely. He failed to mention he was in probate law, and didn't let murderers run free.
"No, it's just that Rory told me you write for the Times. That's right, isn't it?"
"Yes, Rory and I both write columns at the Times," she agreed, pushing her plate farther away from her person.
"Yeah, Rory writes that amazing political column. What section is your column in again?"
"Wait, you read Rory's column?"
Tristan stopped, realizing that now Amelia was forming some sort of weird, catty connection between the words that were coming out of his mouth innocently enough. He was just trying to make conversation; something this girl had no real interest in, obviously. He looked to Rory, desperate for her to start some group discussion, hoping to get Amelia off her his attention to Rory versus his attention to Amelia thread. He nudged her foot with his, which startled her and made her sit up suddenly in her chair. When she said nothing, he decided to take matters into his own hands. And have a little fun in the process.
"So, Rory why don't you tell us about the time you kissed Paris," Tristan suddenly commented, as she sat there, now open mouthed gaping at him.
Charlie's interest perked up, and Amelia looked ready to kill. Rory was sure she had turned five shades of red and had about had it with this double date.
"What?" she exclaimed, trying to make it sound as if Tristan were crazy. Though from the look on Amelia's face, she was sure that it wasn't such a stretch. Charlie looked way too happy about this, and she could practically see him fall back on the evolutionary scale as the moments passed before Tristan spoke again.
"You were just telling me, on the phone the other day, you remember," he insisted, a smart-ass grin covering his face.
"No, Tristan, we were talking about your stint at military school. Tell Amelia how you got sent there when you broke into that safe in high school," she smirked back and gave him another kick under the table.
He narrowed his eyes, not noticing that Amelia was shifting uncomfortably away from him at this point. Charlie looked disappointed, as the girl on girl action topic had been sidestepped. Tristan was all Rory could see now, and the debate was on.
"No, I know what would be more interesting. We could talk about your fifteen minutes of fame," he said, looking particularly proud of himself, leaning back into his chair.
She felt dread fill her, not sure what the hell he was talking about. He looked way too happy for him to be completely full of hot air, and for the life of her, she just couldn't imagine what had come to the forefront of his mind.
"You know, that speech you gave on C-SPAN senior year of high school. You see, Rory here was a hot-shot valedictorian and was chosen to give some speech about school pride or some such non-sense," he began, and Rory's eyes closed. She felt all the blood rush out of her head, and she wanted to disappear. Why he was doing this, she wasn't sure. Maybe he was bored and wanted to amuse himself. Maybe he was bitter about her choice in dates for him, but this had been his idea, and couldn't he see what he had picked for her?
"Tristan, I think we should have a chat," she managed, standing up to leave the table.
"No, Rory, I'm not finished. See, she and this other girl were giving this speech, and the other girl was a complete raving psycho and instead of talking about school pride, she starts ranting about how she just got laid and--," he started, Charlie being mildly interested, and Amelia looking as if she just wanted to disappear from her chair.
"Tristan, now," she said, grabbing his shirtsleeve and forcibly pulling him up from his chair and down the hall towards the bathrooms.
"You know, you're remarkably strong," he joked, as she pushed him towards the wall.
"What the hell is your problem?" she drilled him.
"You know, I thought it was girls that went to the bathroom together," he smirked, tapping the 'Ladies' sign on the door next to them.
"Shut up! Seriously, what is your problem?"
"I was just having fun. What do you care if these people hear old stories from high school?" he said rolled his eyes as he crossed his muscular arms over his equally defined chest.
She looked into his eyes, as they still twinkled with the thrill of debate. She knew he liked to argue—he was a lawyer after all. She hated that she was almost enjoying seeing him like this, argumentative and she had to admit that he was more attractive when he got like this. A little heated, eyes full of life, pretty soon he's push his shirt sleeves up—it gave her mental images that went beyond where their friendship was.
"I told you this was a bad idea," she said simply, mimicking his movements but leaning on the wall across from him.
"Yes, but you said they would run off together. I don't think Charlie is Amelia's type," he chuckled.
"Charlie isn't anyone's type. He's maybe a notch above an amoeba on the food chain," she bit back at him.
"Ouch! I gave great consideration as to what kind of guy you deserved," he said with that same twinkle in his eye. He was trying to provoke her. Even though she realized it, she couldn't help but play this game.
"Bull. You wanted to see me miserable again. You have this sick desire to hear about my bad dates on the phone, face it; you enjoy seeing me go on bad date after bad date. Well, no more. I'm finished."
"Oh, come on, Rory," he started, not meaning to completely piss her off.
"No, seriously. Not only am I saying no more blind dates, I'm saying no more dates. For at least a year. I've earned it, I've suffered quite enough, and this evening is officially over."
He looked at her, trying to assess how serious she was. This wasn't the desired effect this evening was supposed to have on her. He had to admit, he hadn't thought that she had picked this girl out for him to actually like—she wasn't his type at all. Her personality clashed with his—she seemed way too serious, sort of jealous of other girls, and way too brash. He admired people who spoke their minds, but there was a good way and a bad way to do so. This girl obviously hadn't been brought up with any refinement at all. As his grandfather would say, she was obviously from a new money family—which was worse than coming from no money at all. At least, personality wise. He picked someone polar opposite from himself, and he had assumed she had done the same. Maybe she wasn't aware of this game they were playing here, he thought to himself and decided to try to coax her into staying a little longer.
"Rory, just come back to the table. We'll make them suffer through dessert and then I'll drop you off at your house," he promised, dropping the antagonistic attitude.
She looked at him with scrutiny, as if she would see something in him that would make her decision. She bit the skin under her lip, and shifted her weight to her left leg.
"No more talk about me and Paris kissing. Or my and Paris' speech. Which I can't even believe you saw, by the way. In fact, quit mentioning Paris at all," she said commandingly.
"Fine. But you have to tell me about the kissing thing! It's killing me," he gave her his best smile, which made the pit of her stomach feel like she'd just gone downhill on a roller coaster.
"Someday, I promise. Now, let's go finish dinner," she said, making her exit as he ushered her forward with a grandiose swoop of his forearm. The made their way back to the table, to find it completely deserted, save for the plates and Rory's purse. She looked to Tristan, and he just started laughing as they sat back down.
The waiter sighed as he watched the two people at table five talk and laugh, finally taking over dessert menus for them. He smiled politely, nodding as they each made their selection, and wondered when they'd realize that they were the ones on the date tonight.
AN: Okay, it's going to be a while between updates for a little while. I'm changing jobs and moving—all in the next two weeks. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll update as soon as I can!