Lauren and Tamsin walk to the ma-and-pa diner that down the street from the precinct, where Tamsin decided to stop before her apology breakfast to let Dyson know where a few known gachnar hangouts were – all on Dark fae territory, of course, but she wasn't going to ruin all the fun for him. They enter and are immediately greeted by a nice older woman, who sits them in a secluded booth in the corner of the diner. She takes their order (Lauren, a sensible parfait; Tamsin, a cup of coffee, hashbrowns, eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes) and leaves them to chat. At first they talked about work, the weather; the usual 'acquaintance' chatter. But after the usual stuff is worn out they sit in a surprisingly comfortable quiet – that is until Lauren clears her throat and breaks the silence.
"How did you know all that stuff about me, Tamsin? How do you know things about me that B-", the doctor catches herself, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as she painfully swallows the name back down, "that people who have known me for far longer don't seem to know?"
The valkyrie is quiet, impressed that the doctor bit back the name without so much as a single tear. She really was getting better. Tamsin takes a steadying breath. Should she lie? Should she change the subject? Use her quip to turn the tables? Get up and run? Or should she just tell Lauren that, for some Odin forsaken reason, she is actually interested in the doctor? Interested in her habits, in the things she likes and doesn't like, in the way she dresses? Interested especially in the way she looks; in the way she raises her left eyebrow more than the right when she's concerned, in the wrinkle in her brow she gets when she's thinking to hard, the way she plays with her pendent when she is worlds away, in her deep brown eyes with the lighter brown freckles in them, in her room-brightening smile?
"What? Never had a stalker before, doc?"
Lauren doesn't falter, she simply leans forward a little more in the booth across from Tamsin. The detective almost spits out her coffee when Lauren reaches her hand out and gently wraps the soft fingers around her wrist in an almost supportive way. She looks down at the hand there, fighting back the smile as she thinks of how alien they seem now – she is familiar with Lauren's hands (very familiar), but not like this. Not in a way so gentle, so... caring. So... not-inside-her. The fact that she hasn't ever thought of the doctor's hands in any other way than a sexual one is a calming thought. Maybe she really doesn't care for the doctor? Maybe it was all just... lapse of judgment.
Shit.
"Tamsin. Please."
"Is it so hard to believe that if someone actually listens to you when you're talking? Is it so hard to believe that all those stories that you tell me when you think I'm not paying attention, I actually kind of listen to?" Tamsin leans forward and meets Lauren's determined gaze with her own. The doctor is quiet but doesn't avert her eyes; she's obviously trying to tell if Tamsin is telling the truth or not. The detective expects Lauren to start arguing, to turn her doctor on and use some logic bullshit to try to poke holes in her albeit angry-sounding explanation. However, she does not. She simply leans back and takes a steadying breath of her own before crossing her arms across her chest and almost smiling as she speaks.
"You hate the color orange."
"Whate-", Tamsin stops mid words when she realizes Lauren isn't going to argue, "Wait, what?"
"You dislike the color orange. Your favorite movie is Mean Girls and you actually love Legally Blonde, but you'll never actually admit that. You also really like Beyonce but-"
"Okay okay, doc, enough with the embarrassing stuff." Tamsin lets out a puff of frustration, looking around to make sure no one has been listening.
"Just let me, okay? Let me do this."
Lauren sounds firm. Tamsin notes that she also sounds scared. So, against her better judgement, Tamsin leans back in the booth and nods for the doctor to continue.
"I just- I know things about you too. I don't want you to think that I'm in this just because we f-", Lauren rolls her eyes upwards again and quiets her voice, "that because we are involved in a mainly physically relationship that I'm not... not interested in you as a person as well."
"I'm not as forthcoming with my personal details as you are, doc, the only reason you know that Mean Girls is my favorite movie is because it came on the other day and I made you stop fucking me so I could watch it."
Lauren swallows visibly when Tamsin uses the word fuck in public, as she always does (the totally opposite reaction to what she has when Tamsin calls it that in the bedroom... or the car... or on the kitchen counter... or the bathroom...), and Tamsin smiles knowing she can at least sound like she's not attached.
"But- but I know other things about you, Tamsin. I know that you like 3 sugars in your coffee and hate cream. I know that you're beautiful. An-And I know that... that I want to know more about you. If that's okay."
They are quiet, not breaking eye contact. They both know this is a terrible idea. They don't know that they're being stupid. That they've been being stupid. But when Tamsin smiles at Lauren, when the valkyrie leans forward and takes the doctor's hands in her own, neither of them cares.
"Are you asking me out, Lauren?"
"Well", she looks unsure at first, eyes darting around the diner, but steels her jaw and squares her shoulders as she returns her gaze to Tamsin, "yes. I am."
"Guess that means you're taking me out to dinner tonight, huh doc?"