author: Lucinda
rating: pg
main characters: Warren Worthington, Willow Rosenberg
fourth in the Feathers series
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Marvel Comics X-Men titles.
distribution: WLS, NHA, Bite Me, QPC, Twisting, Paula, Cat, anyone else please ask first.
note: AU post season 5 for Willow, less certain where for Warren. Umm.. before Zero Tolerance, and he's not dating Betsy.
Warren wasn't quite certain what to expect from this date. Oh, he was certain that Willow would be interesting to spend time with, but she'd mentioned a place where he could be himself. Exactly where did she have in mind? And how could he convince himself to calm down?
He started pacing back and forth along the broad steps and small courtyard at the entrance to his corporate offices. Part of his mind was fretting about the chance that she wouldn't like being involved with a mutant. Another part fussing that going to lunch was hardly 'getting involved', and a third part was imagining them very involved. Yet another part was wondering if this was some sort of trap or plot to do something, embarrass him, drag him away for something.
"Hey, sorry about that, the traffic on Vine was evil." Willow's voice carried over the courtyard, soothing and sweet. She was dressed in a pair of new blue jeans and a pretty blouse in blue with little bits of green and white embroidery. The odd note was the motorcycle helmet in one hand.
Warren felt much calmer now that she was actually here. He walked over, smiling. "So, a motorcycle helmet? I hadn't quite figured you as the motorcycle type."
She laughed, one hand brushing over the green helmet. "I've been assured that it barely counts as a motorcycle. But I wasn't sure how easily your wings would fit in a car, so..." She shrugged, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.
Walking closer, Warren wondered if he could offer a kiss, or if that would be pushing the bounds of this baffling almost, could be a relationship with Willow. Well, what was life without a few risks? He dropped a light brush of lips over her cheek, barely a kiss, but a definite sign of interest. "I look forward to this place."
Blushing, she murmured something that he didn't quite catch, and one of her hands slipped into his, gently tugging him along as she made her way back to... Well, technically, it was a motorcycle. It was a slender bit of green and white with a small engine. Nothing impressive, or powerful, or... well, most of the motorcycles that he'd seen had either been custom work or top of the line Harleys. Willow's bike was neither.
Blinking at it, the words just tumbled out from his lips before he could stop them. "Are you sure that will even carry both of us?"
She started to giggle, looking at him. She passed him a silvery gray helmet, a clear indication that he should put it on. "Jeez, I know it's not very impressive, but it will carry both of us. You don't have to laugh at the poor thing."
"It's just... but it's..." Belatedly, Warren remembered that insulting her puny little motorcycle was hardly the best way to start a date. With a mental reminder that if he could fight Sentinels and survive Jean in a fit of temper, he would probably be just fine on this little bike. "Umm... sorry."
She settled herself on the bike, still grinning at him. "I know, barely a motorcycle. Hop on, we'll be on our way to lunch."
The ride was actually not that bad. She wasn't the boldest of motorcyclists, or maybe watching Logan and Remy had left him unimpressed by the actions of people who didn't delight in risking their necks. After maybe fifteen minutes, they ended up at a little building, almost squashed between it's neighbors, in a somewhat aging but quiet section of town. He could smell spices, and cooking meats, and bread.
They entered the small building, and immediately went down a flight of stairs, into a larger open area. There were assorted groupings of tables, and a counter separating the kitchen area from the dining area. It was fairly well lit, which allowed him to see the patrons. And they were definitely a sight worth looking at.
There were maybe a dozen people hat looked human, scattered through the building, always seated with others that looked remarkably… not so human. The different people outnumbered the humans almost four to one, and nobody seemed to be upset at anything. He saw scales and leathery hides, something over by a bar that sort of resembled Big Bird with a crest. There were beings with extra limbs, or with horns and spikes or tails.
Blue skin and wings would hardly be a problem here. He could feel himself relaxing already, even as he looked around at all the people. Willow towed him onto the floor, passing a sign that had a phrase written in multiple languages, some of which he could recognize. 'Please seat yourself'.
Their waitress came over, a full figured woman with green skin, a pair of dainty horns on her temple, and rich brown hair that fell to her waist. She placed a pair of menus on the table, smiling cheerfully at them, something that looked almost unsettling with her bright red eyes. "Can I get the two of you anything to drink?"
Willow smiled back, apparently unconcerned with the fact that the waitress had horns and red eyes. "I'd like a coffee and a glass of ice water."
Warren tried to regain his composure, and asked for a glass of orange juice before opening the menu.
Willow's fingers touched the back of his hand. "I know this place can take a bit of getting used to. But the people here are okay, well, some of them are quite nice, but that's just sort of the same everywhere. A lot of nonhumans, and they like to have a place where they can just relax and be themselves. A few mutants find their way here, and as long as they don't start trying to have big fights with each other or anyone else, nobody minds."
Warren blinked, feeling a bit of bafflement at the way that she'd mentioned nonhumans. None of the assorted visitor looked like Shi'ar, or Skrulls, or any of the other aliens that the X-Men had encountered, but… He wouldn't say that they'd seen every species in the universe. "Aliens?"
Willow looked thoughtful, and almost said something before changing her mind. What she did say was "That's a close enough explanation, I suppose. Personally, I'd recommend sticking with the Italian or Japanese sections, but there's a lot of other things available. Some of the patrons have… different ideas of what's good for lunch."
He smiled at her, glancing through the menu as he did. She was right, there were some different things, the sort of thing that he'd never expected to see on the menu of a restaurant. But the place seemed nice, welcoming… And he was pretty sure the women over at that table were checking him out, blue skin and all.
"Maybe we could do this again some time?" He looked at Willow, feeling hopeful.
Her smile was radiant. "I think I'd like that."
End Fine Feathers.
rating: pg
main characters: Warren Worthington, Willow Rosenberg
fourth in the Feathers series
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Marvel Comics X-Men titles.
distribution: WLS, NHA, Bite Me, QPC, Twisting, Paula, Cat, anyone else please ask first.
note: AU post season 5 for Willow, less certain where for Warren. Umm.. before Zero Tolerance, and he's not dating Betsy.
Warren wasn't quite certain what to expect from this date. Oh, he was certain that Willow would be interesting to spend time with, but she'd mentioned a place where he could be himself. Exactly where did she have in mind? And how could he convince himself to calm down?
He started pacing back and forth along the broad steps and small courtyard at the entrance to his corporate offices. Part of his mind was fretting about the chance that she wouldn't like being involved with a mutant. Another part fussing that going to lunch was hardly 'getting involved', and a third part was imagining them very involved. Yet another part was wondering if this was some sort of trap or plot to do something, embarrass him, drag him away for something.
"Hey, sorry about that, the traffic on Vine was evil." Willow's voice carried over the courtyard, soothing and sweet. She was dressed in a pair of new blue jeans and a pretty blouse in blue with little bits of green and white embroidery. The odd note was the motorcycle helmet in one hand.
Warren felt much calmer now that she was actually here. He walked over, smiling. "So, a motorcycle helmet? I hadn't quite figured you as the motorcycle type."
She laughed, one hand brushing over the green helmet. "I've been assured that it barely counts as a motorcycle. But I wasn't sure how easily your wings would fit in a car, so..." She shrugged, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.
Walking closer, Warren wondered if he could offer a kiss, or if that would be pushing the bounds of this baffling almost, could be a relationship with Willow. Well, what was life without a few risks? He dropped a light brush of lips over her cheek, barely a kiss, but a definite sign of interest. "I look forward to this place."
Blushing, she murmured something that he didn't quite catch, and one of her hands slipped into his, gently tugging him along as she made her way back to... Well, technically, it was a motorcycle. It was a slender bit of green and white with a small engine. Nothing impressive, or powerful, or... well, most of the motorcycles that he'd seen had either been custom work or top of the line Harleys. Willow's bike was neither.
Blinking at it, the words just tumbled out from his lips before he could stop them. "Are you sure that will even carry both of us?"
She started to giggle, looking at him. She passed him a silvery gray helmet, a clear indication that he should put it on. "Jeez, I know it's not very impressive, but it will carry both of us. You don't have to laugh at the poor thing."
"It's just... but it's..." Belatedly, Warren remembered that insulting her puny little motorcycle was hardly the best way to start a date. With a mental reminder that if he could fight Sentinels and survive Jean in a fit of temper, he would probably be just fine on this little bike. "Umm... sorry."
She settled herself on the bike, still grinning at him. "I know, barely a motorcycle. Hop on, we'll be on our way to lunch."
The ride was actually not that bad. She wasn't the boldest of motorcyclists, or maybe watching Logan and Remy had left him unimpressed by the actions of people who didn't delight in risking their necks. After maybe fifteen minutes, they ended up at a little building, almost squashed between it's neighbors, in a somewhat aging but quiet section of town. He could smell spices, and cooking meats, and bread.
They entered the small building, and immediately went down a flight of stairs, into a larger open area. There were assorted groupings of tables, and a counter separating the kitchen area from the dining area. It was fairly well lit, which allowed him to see the patrons. And they were definitely a sight worth looking at.
There were maybe a dozen people hat looked human, scattered through the building, always seated with others that looked remarkably… not so human. The different people outnumbered the humans almost four to one, and nobody seemed to be upset at anything. He saw scales and leathery hides, something over by a bar that sort of resembled Big Bird with a crest. There were beings with extra limbs, or with horns and spikes or tails.
Blue skin and wings would hardly be a problem here. He could feel himself relaxing already, even as he looked around at all the people. Willow towed him onto the floor, passing a sign that had a phrase written in multiple languages, some of which he could recognize. 'Please seat yourself'.
Their waitress came over, a full figured woman with green skin, a pair of dainty horns on her temple, and rich brown hair that fell to her waist. She placed a pair of menus on the table, smiling cheerfully at them, something that looked almost unsettling with her bright red eyes. "Can I get the two of you anything to drink?"
Willow smiled back, apparently unconcerned with the fact that the waitress had horns and red eyes. "I'd like a coffee and a glass of ice water."
Warren tried to regain his composure, and asked for a glass of orange juice before opening the menu.
Willow's fingers touched the back of his hand. "I know this place can take a bit of getting used to. But the people here are okay, well, some of them are quite nice, but that's just sort of the same everywhere. A lot of nonhumans, and they like to have a place where they can just relax and be themselves. A few mutants find their way here, and as long as they don't start trying to have big fights with each other or anyone else, nobody minds."
Warren blinked, feeling a bit of bafflement at the way that she'd mentioned nonhumans. None of the assorted visitor looked like Shi'ar, or Skrulls, or any of the other aliens that the X-Men had encountered, but… He wouldn't say that they'd seen every species in the universe. "Aliens?"
Willow looked thoughtful, and almost said something before changing her mind. What she did say was "That's a close enough explanation, I suppose. Personally, I'd recommend sticking with the Italian or Japanese sections, but there's a lot of other things available. Some of the patrons have… different ideas of what's good for lunch."
He smiled at her, glancing through the menu as he did. She was right, there were some different things, the sort of thing that he'd never expected to see on the menu of a restaurant. But the place seemed nice, welcoming… And he was pretty sure the women over at that table were checking him out, blue skin and all.
"Maybe we could do this again some time?" He looked at Willow, feeling hopeful.
Her smile was radiant. "I think I'd like that."
End Fine Feathers.
