[A/N: Clio and Marissa, put the sporks down—here's your third chapter.]
Clio was up at eight the next morning just as she'd told Spencer she would be.
She was tired and in desperate need of coffee, but her desire to see New York outweighed all the things were ailing her at the moment.
She had been in the lobby a few minutes before Scarlett walked in from the front, Spencer trailing behind her carrying a beat up and battered bike.
"What happened to your bike?" Clio asked.
"Life," Spencer replied. "Some people look at this baby and think it's a piece of junk, but me, I think she has character."
"Not to mention, it deters people from stealing it," Scarlett pointed out. "Nobody wants a crap bike. . . Well, expect for Spencer apparently."
"This is also true," Spencer said," Anyway, you'll be happy to know this is not our primary mode of transportation. We'll mostly be doing walking but, I think we should make good use of all the cabs New York has."
"Awesome," Clio replied.
"Well you look like you're ready for adventure," he said.
Clio nodded. "Yep, I'm always ready for adventure."
"I like that attitude," Spencer said coming up next to Clio. He offered her his arm. Clio gladly took it. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Clio said.
The pair walked out of the Hopewell and began their journey.
"So, that tattoo. Is it real?" Spencer asked, motioning to the tattoo on Clio's arm.
"Oh, that. Yeah," she said. "I got it a few years ago when I was in Japan with my dad. My mom was kind of, er, irritated for lack of a better word."
"Did you come up with the design or. . ."
"Oh, no. I had a scar there you see, and there was this manga artist, a really awesome and amazing one, and he covered it and then I got it filled in with an actual tattoo," Clio said. "Do you have any tattoos?"
"And ruin this perfect body? No," Spencer replied.
Clio laughed.
"So, what do you do in your free time?" Spencer asked.
"Draw. . . Not much else," she chuckled.
"What kinda stuff do you draw?" Spencer asked.
"Everything. Buildings, oceans, animals. . . People," Clio said.
"Are you any good?" Spencer asked.
Clio shrugged. "It's a matter of taste, I suppose."
"You'll have to show me some of your stuff while you're here," Spencer said.
"Sure," Clio said. "Do you do anything besides acting?"
Spencer thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nope. I don't want to do anything else really."
"Well, for what it's worth, you seem really good at what you do," Clio said.
888
"Do you know how they make funnel cake?" Spencer asked Clio. The pair were sitting in Grand Central Station enjoying a plate of pancakes and coffee.
"Uh, no," Clio said.
"They're pancakes basically. You take pancake batter and squeeze it through a tube into a deep fryer and, voila, funnel cake," Spencer said.
"That's so random that you know that," she replied.
"Not really," Spencer replied with a shrug. "I almost went to culinary school."
"But you make a better actor than you do chef?" Clio asked.
"Oh, don't be fooled Miss Clio, my cooking skills are pretty top notch. I mean I know my way around a kitchen just like I know my way around a unicycle," he said.
"You're an endearing character Spencer Martin," Clio admitted. "But if you're so handy in the kitchen why am I sitting here eating pancakes someone else made me when you, the undercover Iron Chef, sound so proficient at making them yourself?"
"Are you questioning my ability to make pancakes? Because I can make pancakes. I can make pancakes all day long," Spencer said.
Clio laughed and got to her feet, grabbing her coffee cup as she did.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"You promised to show me New York and while the station is great and everything, I don't think I'd ever forgive myself if I didn't see the Museum of Modern Art while I was here," Clio said. She took Spencer's hand and pulled him up from the table. "It's just up the street isn't it? We can get there by walking, unless you'd prefer to find someone who rents out unicycles if you'd prefer to travel that way."
"You make a poor comedian, Clio Ford," Spencer said, smiling despite himself.
"I do not. I'm hilarious and you know it," she said pulling him along. "Now let's go."
888
"You know, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen myself," Clio said.
After trolling through the Museum of Modern Art all morning, the pair had settled in Central Park for a pseudo-picnic of bagels.
"Really?" Spencer asked.
"Yeah. When I was on my dad's boat this summer I was the chef," she said proudly. "I cooked dinner every night. Everyone always loved it. . . Unless our food started to go bad in which case I had to wing it. Those weren't my best nights."
"What exactly did you do on this boat?" Spencer asked.
"We looked for buried treasure and out ran pirates. . . And in one instance had to try to set fire to our boat in order to evade capture by pirates," she said.
"That's a joke right?" Spencer asked.
"I wish it was," Clio chuckled. "At the end of our trip our boat kind of got hijacked by some guys and I ended up floating out in the middle of the ocean with. . . Aidan."
Aidan. How had Clio not thought about him all day? They were together after all, at least that's what she'd been led to assume. She remembered the horrible ordeal with the jellyfish and him being there to help her. She remembered sharing a kiss with him as they awaited rescue in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn't just any kiss. It wasn't as if she had kisses to fritter away. It was her first kiss.
Now he didn't even have the decency to acknowledge her existence.
"Who's Aidan?" Spencer asked. "He your boyfriend?"
"Don't know. Boyfriends actually make a habit of calling their girlfriend's right?" she asked.
"To my knowledge, yes," Spencer replied.
"Right, and here I was just beginning to think I was living in some alternate universe where they didn't," Clio said. "Pretty sure he blew me off. I haven't heard from him since I got state side."
Spencer shook his head. "What a jerk."
"It doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't matter anymore," Clio said reassuringly. She looked up at Spencer and smiled.
"So. . . You draw you said," Spencer brought up, recognizing that Clio wanted to change the subject away from Aidan.
"Yes, I can," she said.
Spencer reached into his bag and pulled out a pencil and then took a napkin and handed it to Clio. "Draw something."
"Draw what?" she asked.
"Anything that tickles your fancy," he said.
"Okay," she said. She pointed across the park to a random tree. "That."
He was quiet for the few moments it took Clio to draw the tree. He watched her. She didn't really have an expression on her face except that she was concentrating deeply. Every now and again her face would randomly curve into a smile but it was there for less than a heartbeat.
Finally, she took a deep breath and smiled.
"There, your very own piece of still life from Clio Ford," she said handing him back the napkin.
"Wow, Clio," Spencer said taken aback. The tree was perfect. With a little color he suspected it might pass for the real thing. "This is great. You're really good. I really need to see some other stuff now."
"As long as you cook for me at some point during my stay here," she said.
Spencer reached out and shook Clio's hand. "We have a deal."