Sidestory:
Gradarius
Jace Kellen had experienced a lot of emotions in her life. However, the sudden urge she felt to barf up everything she'd ever eaten including her internal organs and the possible spacial internal organs of other people was not one she was really used to.
Praying to the varied gods who watched over her and her incredibly messed up social life, the redhead wheeled herself forward through the door of a tiny Italian restaurant, hoped she'd got the right place, and immediately began scanning for the familiar face. Her eyes quickly alighted upon a young gentleman seated midway towards the back. Apparently he had noticed her already, a faint smile gracing his noble features as he watched her.
Looking every bit the well-dressed Brit he was, Theodore Parfett stood and joined Jace in the front of the restaurant. "Would you care to sit down, mademoiselle?" he offered, raising his hand towards the table.
Tibby was immediately treated to a full-on lopsided grin with all the brilliance Jace could muster, moving herself towards where he indicated and trying to stop herself grinning like a complete retard. "I'm already sitting down, darlin', but I'll do what I can."
"Of course, silly me." The faintest hint of red graced his cheeks as they made their way to the table. One of the chairs had already been removed in preparation for Jace's arrival, as per Tibby's instructions. He sat in the remaining seat and handed her a menu. "Choose anything you like."
She took it from him and opened it up, scanning it down and trying to remember how to read English. Something about Parfett rendered her completely braindead.
Jace glanced at him over it idly. "How come whenever we see each other it involves food?"
"Because the food at ISAS is absolute rubbish," he replied, "and I do believe restaurants make fine locations for excursions. You don't happen to know of anything more interesting in Roanoke beside the movies, do you?"
"Well, yeah, me, but you already have that one covered, don't you?"
He chuckled lightly, hiding behind the menu once again. "Have you decided what to eat yet?"
"Probably the mixed fettuccine. I already had my quota of raw meat this morning. You?" Jace quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Veal scallopine." He signaled for the waiter, who rushed over as quickly as possible. "Mixed fettuccine for the lady and veal scallopine for myself. Also an order of escargot. What would you like to drink?" The last part he directed at Jace.
"Um. Just some orange juice, thanks."
Tibby raised an eyebrow, ordered some tea, and sent the waiter scurrying off with their order. Now the hard part began. Conversation. "So how have your studies been going?" he asked.
"It's Fleming, Theo." Jace tucked an offending spike of crimson hair behind one ear. "I could sleep through all my classes and still get a passmark just because I don't smoke pot at lunchtime. I think I'm only scraping by in Latin, though. What about you?"
"Well enough, I suppose. I've been accepted to Oxford, at least."
"'Well enough'," she said mockingly, but a genuine grin broke over her face. "Congratulations, Teaboy. Hope you're ready for the fast-paced life of a stockbroker watching the business news and getting a trophy accountant wife."
Naturally, Tibby was taken aback. "A trophy wife? Is there some kind of a message in that?" He blinked at her in honest confusion. Apparently an Oxford-qualified education didn't teach a person everything necessary in life.
Jace rolled her eyes heavenwards. "Tibbs. You're going to be filthy, stinking rich. You're going to need someone you can cart around at the cocktail parties of the other filthy, stinking rich people. Try getting a blonde with a D-cup or something."
His confusion lasted a moment more before he broke to into laughter. "Oh, God, Jace," he chortled, "I could never want that! I'd much rather spend time with a witty person like yourself. The last thing I need is another bimbo to lecture. I've enough of those in that infernal Latin class. They 'aven't got 'alf a thought in their bloomin' li'l brains!"
Jace immediately looked absolutely enchanted, propping her chin on one hand, grey eyes dancing. "Good God. What in the name of holy fuck was that? Do it again."
It took a moment for Tibby to realize what he'd done. "I didn't," he mumbled, paling. Then he remembered this was Jace in front of him and she wasn't likely to judge him for his accent. "I guess that cat's out of the bag. I'm not from what you'd call the upper class of British society, though I do try to sound like it. How you speak can greatly determine how people think of you, so I've always tried to talk--" his voice dropped conspiratorially-- "hall prauper 'n roight. But it's not how I was raised." He relaxed and smiled as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"God. From the way you talked before, I thought you were probably nobility or something. Makes me feel much better about being a backstreet Virginian girl." She winked at him. "Don't worry. It sounded downright sexy."
Oh, God, she realized two seconds afterwards. I just came on to him.
Tibby seemed not to notice, or at the very least he took no offense. In fact, he seemed to find it a compliment.
"Really? That's another plus to being in America, I suppose."
Sometime during their conversation the waiter had slipped their drinks onto the table, so Tibby took a moment to sip his hot tea, continuing, "And if it's any further consolation, I don't think of you as a 'backstreet Virginian girl' in the least. Quite the opposite. You're far more worldly than me, I think."
"It's a lie," Jace confessed, pulling her orange juice forward to sip from it gratefully. "I don't exactly get around. I go to school, I go home, I train. Frankly, I know fuck all about society except that I get stared at whenever I wear cutoff shorts that show off that, yes, I don't have any legs. I also speak like an extra from a fuckin' Vietnam movie."
"I wish I knew what to tell you, Jace. You're perfect-- perfectly interesting just the way you are." He had nearly said she was perfect, that much was certain.
The redhead gave him a warm grin. "You're being a masochist, Tibbs. First you invite me out, then you compliment me. That's some death wish you have there."
"Uh, yes," he nervously agreed, looking bashfully at her. "Is it so terrible to want to have dinner with you?"
"You got a knock on the head and forgot what happened when we met, right? Me straddling you and attempting to squeeze your brains out through your ears?"
"Hum, no, I didn't forget." He smiled coyly.
Jace grinned. She was going to hate herself in the morning; usually her facial expressions were narrowed down to 'evil smirk'. "I suppose it's something I'll at least remember. 'So where'd you meet Tibby?' 'I beat him up. It was the start to a beautiful relationship.'"
Tibby couldn't think of a proper response (yet again) and was saved when the waiter returned with the escargot and two small forks. "Thanks," Tibby blurted to the man, picking up one of the forks. "Would you care for some escargot, Jace?"
Jace looked at Tibby slowly, then looked at the plate in front of him. "You eat those things -willingly-?"
"They're quite good. Try one. It's not any different than eating a piece of steak or chicken. The taste and texture is closer to that of a mussel, though."
"I used to play with these things as a kid in my backyard, Parfett! Doesn't that strike you as wrong?" Nevertheless, Jace picked up a fork warily and speared one of the weird-looking objects claiming to be food on it. Narrowing her eyes at it in suspicion, she popped it in her mouth. Tibby watched her like a hawk.
Jace chewed a couple of times, going through a few indescribable facial expressions. Finally, she swallowed.
"Rubber-ish," she commented. "But not -as- bad as I expected. If I was stuck on some freaky desert island covered in snails, I'd survive. Unless all the snails ganged together and killed me."
Tibby laughed and popped a piece in his mouth. "If you like, we can go to the movies next weekend instead of a restaurant. Then you won't have to worry about me finding more strange food for you to eat."
Jace went slightly pink. He wanted to see her again. Maybe Thomas had slipped something weird into his food; some sort of new high-quality designer drug that made Theo want to see odd people and not notice when they were making really bad attempts at flirting. "There's nothing good on. I'm boycotting all the local theatres. We should just go rent out a bunch of old movies and eat pizza. Did you see Gladiator?"
"No, actually, I didn't. Not much time. Classes have lightened up a bit now that we're nearing the end of the school year. I suppose that means yes, I'd love to see it."
"You completely -have- to see it," Jace enthused, finally managing to relax. "I can't let you go back to England without having seen a bunch of guys take part in ancient-history gore. My parents get out of the house once every fortnight or so and I'm left... " -Hideously alone and pathetic.- "... bored."
"Sounds like a wonderful plan, then."
The waiter returned once again and removed the now-empty plate of escargot, replacing it with the main course. "Enjoy your meal."
Jace concentrated on eating for a little while, every so often darting her eyes up to watch him
surreptitiously. Without the usual smirk on her face, she looked almost vulnerable; adding on to the faint pink that still lingered in her cheeks, she looked downright shy around him.
"Stupid sauce," the redhead eventually muttered, looked from side to side to see if the Manners Police were present to arrest her for an imminent social faux pas, then quickly stuck out her tongue to lick something off one of her fingers.
Rather than show any revulsion, Tibby turned beet red and grinned. He seemed embarrassed, but also amused and entirely pleased, and seemed to having trouble keeping himself from breaking out into giggles. "I suppose this means we call today a date?"
"Date," Jace said carefully, losing her ability to converse in the English language. "Date as in... date-date or... date?"
"Date as in 'a' date."
"I don't think people date Jace T. Kellen. They take her out on 'excursions' or 'adventures' or 'probation'."
"And yet, for some reason, that doesn't deter me one bit from thinking of the idea."
Jace went an interesting shade of blush that matched her hair. "Brave guy."
"Not brave, just British," he replied, spinning a piece of veal on his fork before popping it into his mouth. "Brave is the man who ventures into the Kellen residence, methinks."
Jace mock-glared at him. "You're making fun of my esteemed family, Brit. Just for that, I'm going to stick my tongue out at yours."
"Put that thing away and finish chewing your food, Jace," he jokingly admonished, rolling his eyes for added effect.
"Yes, Daddy," she said meekly.
They ate a bit more in silence then, reveling in the rich sauces and tender meat and pasta. This was truly one of the nicer restaurants Roanoke had to offer, and, best of all, it was small. No one would ever know where Tibby and Jace were or what they were up to. The could enjoy their time together in peace.
If Jace had had legs, they probably would have been playing footsie. Unfortunately, Jace did
not have the necessary limbs, and so had to make do with stopping herself from undressing him mentally every five seconds.
The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, and Jace placed her knife and fork in the center of her plate neatly. "There. You've tasted some of the fine cuisine Roanoke has to offer. And there weren't even any rats or vermin or anything."
"Would you care to add some dessert to finish off an already-wonderful meal?"
Yeah, you covered in caramel sauce and whipped cream. "No thanks. It was great, Tibbs. I'm full." Jace prodded morosely at one of her lean, smoothly muscled arms. "I'm probably going soft as we speak."
"You? Soft? Perish the thought, my dear." He signaled the waiter to bring the check, plopped down a sum of cash, and finished the last sip of his tea. "Shall we be off? Or," his voice dropped, "is our liaison still a secret?"
Jace burst out in a warm peal of laughter. "You'd think you were a Montague and I a Capulet, Teaboy. Do you want to keep it secret?"
"Well, no, not really, but if you'd rather not be seen with me, I understand." He sniffled dramatically and pretended to die in a great Shakespearean death scene.
"Why, Teaboy, 'tis a dreadful insult you hurl at me," Jace accused in a passable attempt at the language, trying not to giggle. "Of course I wish to be seen in thy, uh, august company. Only promise that we won't both end up dead or something."
"Alas, my love, I wilt, for that escargot was poison, poison!"
Hearing that last line, someone in the kitchen staff looked up with an angry scowl which neither Tibby nor Jace noticed.
"It was thine own fault for partaking of something that looked like it belong'd in mine fucking garden," Jace said cheerfully.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to die, too? You ate the escargot as well," pointed out Tibby, still frozen in his final death position.
"Oh, yeah." Jace cleared her throat. "The escargot cankers in my stomach like a wound, ay, much like a false meat product! A guiltless death I die." With that, she died dramatically, but it would have been more effective had she not been trying not to laugh.
Tibby sat up and pushed his chair away from the table to stand. "Having dined and died, let us be off, milady Jace."
"Good idea, my lord." With great dignity, she came back to life and moved her wheelchair around. "The escargot wasn't that bad, anyway. Just snail-y."
"'Just' snail-y? I'll have you know it's a great delicacy..."
And with that, the mismatched couple strode out of the restaurant and into the bright light of Outside, where odd looks were ignored and where it finally didn't matter that a deceptively prissy-looking British student and a foul-mouthed colourful disabled American were seen together grinning idiotically. Not to them, anyway...
... though Jace never did get the courage to introduce him to caramel or whipped cream as viable fashion accessories.