2013.04.01 - Shawarma And A Movie

It's been a busy day at Anita Bella, punctuated by the usual weirdness. Seriously, Fern is almost to the point of accepting anything weird and questioning the more normal things. Like Thor, the God of Thunder, having a phone. Still working that one out. Today's weirdness came in the form of a little boy, and a little less in the form of Jubilee. Now that it's past quitting time, Fern has changed from her uniform into a short skirt and t-shirt. She's put her tennis shoes on, since she'll have an escort for the evening and probably won't have to worry about kicking anyone, and her tights have been discarded because the air is warm enough that bare legs won't freeze. She's pale from the winter, but that doesn't bother her. She's usually pale in the summer, too. Heading for the front door, she calls out, "Nite Anita, nite Jerry."

As promised, Warren brought a car down to pick Fern up from the restaurant. He actually rode in the car as well, since he figured it might be creepy to just have her driven somewhere. That, and he kind of wanted to see her. It did mean, however, that he didn't get a chance to change out of his 'work clothes'. Stepping out of the sedan, he makes his way to the door, meeting Fern there. "Hi!" is offered as well as a few roses wrapped in fine tissue paper. "I didn't get a chance to stop home and change...you look great!" He might be trying a little too hard.

Fern's smile is bright as she sees Warren already reaching for the door, and she swings her coat around, shrugging into it. That accomplished he gets a proper greeting, "Hey Warren." The flowers are accepted, brought up for a sniff. "You're going to spoil me." Then she stops for a second, looking him over from head to toe before commenting on his attire. She reaches one hand toward his tie, and instead of poking him, this time she gently straightens it. "You look very handsome in your suit. Armani should be thanking you for wearing their rags." There's a grin and then she steps forward to close the small gap, seeking a greeting hug and tilting her head in expectation of a kiss.

Angel grins as his tie is straightened, "They fit the best and are the most easily altered for the wings," he explains before he closes that gap as well, giving the hug -and- the kiss. "And yes, yes I will spoil you. I think I'm the luckiest man in the world right now. What are you in the mood for?" He can probably get into most places without a reservation, but he also isn't sure that she's the type to insist on the trendiest new restaurants.

Fern can't stop the light blush that comes with Warren's words, and she stays close, looking up at him. "Hmmm... we could see what carts are still out by Central Park and get something to eat from one of them. Or we could get something and take it back to my place. I'd cook but... I don't actually have anything to cook." She adds brightly, "Or we could stop at a grocery and get something for me to cook for us." There's a grin and she shrugs her shoulders lightly, "I guess that's one way of saying I'm not feeling particular? Are you in the mood for anything?"

Angel offers a hand and gently pulls Fern back towards the car, "Do you eat sushi? There's a great place near me...we could get it to go. Or there's also a very good Mediterranean place around the corner...we could get take-out and go to your place or mine? I'm not terribly particular either. I just want to spend more time with you...get to know more about you."

The pull is followed willingly, Fern's hand taking a soft grip on Warren's as her brows arch. "Oh! Do they have shawarma? That's Mediterranean, isn't it? It's sooooooo good." It looks like they have a dinner option. She hesitates a moment, then glances at him. "Well, you've seen my place, and I haven't seen yours yet." She's still picturing somewhere spacious, on a high floor with a view of the park that he mentioned. Not exactly the reality, her expectations are still very Mid-West. She pauses at the car door, turning to him, "I'd like to know more about you, too."

"I think they do...that's the lamb and beef mix, isn't it?" Warren leans over to open the door for Fern, "Then...I'm glad we're on the same page! It makes things so much easier." The smile falters some when she agrees to see his place...not that there's anything to be ashamed of, but..."All right. I'd like to show you my place here in the city." As opposed to his parents' home or their place in the Hamptons.

Fern is careful getting into the car, mindful of the sort of short skirt and lack of tights. She's no starlet that goes around without knickers, but that could come dangerously close to an Underpants Party, and she only has those with Jubilee. She slides over so that Warren doesn't have to go around the car, and as he's getting situated her attention moves forward, to Warren's driver. She leans forward, smiling and offering a greeting, "Hi there. How are you?"

Warren carefully gets into the car, one wing going around and a bit behind Fern...so she can lean up against it if she'd like. The other is pressed up close to him as he carefully closes the door. When she starts speaking to the driver, he blinks but then offers, "Fern, this is Greg. Greg, Fern."

Greg turns his head to look up at the rearview mirror to offer Fern a grin, "I'm just fine, ma'am, and how are you?" He then turns to look at Warren, "Where to, Mr. Worthington?" The answer is easy even as Warren pulls out his phone to begin a menu search, "Ilili, please, Greg."

Fern's eyes raise to catch the driver's eyes in the mirror, "I'm dandy, Greg, thank you for asking. And please just call me Fern." She settles back gently, feeling the wing behind her, looking to Warren as he taps away on his phone. There's a pause, and she glances forward to the back of Greg's head, before she scoots over a bit closer to Warren. "Looking up the restaurant? Making sure they have shawarma?" she teases gently.

Angel nods, "I thought we could call, order, and then just pick it up instead of waiting there." He finally pulls up the menu and scrolls down before he hands the phone over to Fern, "What do you want? They do have shawarma, but I think they call it something differently." It's a very high end Middle Eastern restaurant, it would seem...no gyro sandwiches here!

She doesn't take the phone, instead leaning to press lightly against Warren's arm and see the phone as he holds it. Fern's hand comes up, one finger slowly scrolling the menu, and there's a triumphant, "There! Beef shawarma. That's perfect." She looks very pleased by this simple discovery. "Yes, good idea to phone ahead," she agrees. Maybe she's starting to get a little anxious to see where he lives. His space. His domain.

"Just that? Any appetizers, or should I just order stuff...and the beef...and we can be surprised?" Like maybe he'll order the chef's platter and just go with that? Warren's wing curls some around Fern as she leans in to look at the phone. "It'll probably be ready for pick-up by the time we get there." Since they -are- going from Brooklyn to the Upper West Side.

"How aboooooooout..." Fern draws the word out as she ponders, then looks up quickly with a grin, "A surprise. I like surprises. Well, good surprises, of course. Not bad surprises." Not that many people like bad surprises, but it's always good to clarify. "Like... picnic surprises. And flower surprises." She looks down to the roses, set on the seat beside her. It doesn't take much, a little thoughtfulness goes a long way with Fern.

"I'm glad you like surprises. I like planning them..." although he's trying to go slowly and not shower her with luxury all the time. She's not a gold-digger and he wants her to know that he knows that. The order is placed and the phone put away before he turns to Fern. "Should be ready by the time we get there. There can certainly be more picnics now that the weather's getting better!" There's a brief pause as Warren just looks at her for a moment, as if completely surprised that she's right there with him. "How was work?"

Fern narrows her eyes slightly, giving Warren a cagey look. "You're pretty darn good at planning them, too. Are you sure you don't do this all the time?" The tone and quick wrinkle of her nose show that she's just poking some light fun, and she twists to wrap both her arms around his arm, secure with the wing around her, one hand sliding so their fingers can twine lightly. "Work was good. Tiring. And there was a little weirdness," she adds lightly, as if that's becoming the norm. "How was your day?" she turns right back.

Warren shrugs, "I like surprising people, what can I say? Besides, they had classes in event planning at prep school..." now it's his turn to joke. His hand holds her's gently as her fingers twine with his, "Weirdness? Like how? Work for me was fine...dull. Nothing weird ir even interesting today. We're working on acquiring another company and trying to ensure job security for their workers."

Job security? There are take-overs that still concern themselves with job security for the employees? That brings a distinct touch of delight to Fern's smile. Not only is she going out with a guy who's nice to her, but he thinks about other people like that. She says softly, "I think that's wonderful." It's not the expansion of their business that she finds impressive, it's going about it that way. There's a soft sigh as Fern's face gets thoughtful, looking back at earlier events of the day. "Jubilee had come by for lunch, which isn't the weird part," she adds helpfully. "It was just slowing down after lunch, and this kid came in, acting really weird. Like... robotic, weird. Took Joe's burger," she doesn't pause to think Warren has no idea who Joe is, "And started eating it. So I got him sat down with me and Jubes, and..." She glances over to Warren, as if deciding whether to go on. But he's got wings, it's not very likely he wouldn't believe this. "He said he was sent to planet Earth to observe."

Warren is also the one who stepped down from the company until they had better equal rights practices...including working with mutants. "I don't like the idea of tossing people from their jobs just because another company acquires theirs. After all, they know it. If they don't like the change, they can leave, but they already know the work. It's better for morale if there aren't mass layoffs, if you ask me. But I'm a 'young upstart'," is explained with a grin. It fades some as she explains her day, "Well...I guess it's better than saying he came to exterminate? I'm sorry, that wasn't funny."

There's a pause before he offers, "I guess I wouldn't be too surprised. There are mutants being discovered all the time now, there are Aliens in the Justice League...people from different dimensions...there's a real, live Atlantis. I guess I wouldn't be too surprised upon meeting another apparent alien. At least he seemed friendly?"

Fern muses for a moment, then decides, "I like that. 'Young upstart'. It means the old men set in their ways are shaken up, and I'm all for that." She pauses, then admits honestly, "I can't say I'm a huge fan of big corporations. They seem almost too eager to step on people in favor of money." Her eyes turn up toward him, a growing affection in her regard. "You don't seem like that." She does grin at his joke, offering, "Well, he did say he could defend himself. But we found out that he is not explosive." Such a productive day! "He wasn't hostile, but I don't know that I'd quite call it friendly. It was like he'd been programmed. And he said he's a boy, not a machine. A biological unit."

"Like Pinocchio?" Warren grins even as the car pulls up outside of the restaurant. Greg goes inside to pick up the meal...and pay with the 'company card'. Luckily, it leaves Warren and Fern inside. "Well, maybe he's like Data on Star Trek? He was a cool character..." but right. Probably shouldn't reveal that he watched that as a kid.

"I don't see why we can't make money -and- not step on people? I mean, when you treat people well, then there's loyalty. If there's loyalty, there's less turnover and people will work harder and pass the word on to their friends who then pass word on to -their- friends. It's just not always 'fast' money."

Fern's eyes move, following Greg as he goes into the restaurant. She nods, but looks more concerned than anything else. "He was just... little. Like he wasn't eating well. And no matter where he's from, he's still just a kid. He disappeared when I went to talk to Anita. The other customers said he opened this... wormhole? That's the best they could come up with. Said he just stepped through and disappeared." The concern lingers, but she follows what he's saying about loyalty. "If you're someone people want to work for, you have happy people who do better work." She glances toward the restaurant, sees no Greg returning yet, and reaches for Warren's tie. "I think you're going to have to get less expensive ties," she observes as she gives it a light tug, pulling him close enough to kiss.

Warren isn't too sure what to say, "Well, if you fed him, maybe he'll be back? Then you can talk to him more and make sure he's all right? I admit, I don't know all that much about aliens and how they work...mutants, a little more. Kids are...well...maybe he's just small? There's someone at...there's someone I know who looks like a kid, but isn't. Actually, I think he might be an alien too." He'll have to ask about that.

Of course, his attention sways as his tie is gently pulled and he leans in, "You can do whatever you want with my ties." Greg is discreet. He won't interrupt them if they're keeping themselves entertained while they wait.

Clearly, Fern isn't overly withdrawn about showing affection. It's how she was raised, with loving parents as an example, and now that the first hurdles are over, she's comfortable being more open with Warren. She pushes forward to meet him, the tentativeness of their first kiss well abandoned, and when she breaks the warm kiss she stays close, lips not quite touching his. "Can I? Whatever I want?" she asks, playfully testing him by winding the tie around her hand once. Their conversation? Gone for a moment.

And Warren's rather shy about it...he doesn't want to overwhelm or move too quickly, but he's smart and seems able to pick up on some of the more obvious clues given to him. The subtle ones, maybe not so much. His own kiss is also less tentative than their first and when she speaks to him, he can't really answer immediately. Licking his lips, he offers a very slow, "Yeeees?"

Her being almost in his lap is a pretty obvious clue, yes, and his slow response makes her giggle. "Good," she says simply, unwinding his tie and smoothing it back down. She sobers a measure, bringing that now free hand up to lightly stroke her fingertips along his cheek. "If I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you'll tell me, yes?" It's asked with all sincerity; she's not completely oblivious that a lot of people are more reserved than she is.

"Of course...but...I don't think you'd do anything that would. I mean..." his cheeks flush pink again even as his arms wrap around Fern. "As long as you aren't breaking out handcuffs and leather collars, I think we're all right."

Of course, that's when Greg gets back with the food. He clears his throat, sets the bag of food on the front passenger seat, and starts the car once again.

Fern's blush rivals Warren's and she quickly puts her head down against Warren's shoulder to hide it, giggling softly at being caught. When the car starts moving, she looks up, shifting to push herself so her lips are close to Warren's ear and she says softly, "Not until the sixth date, at least." She giggles again, turning to settle back beside him again, still pressed close.

He did not expect that answer! Warren's eyes widen before he starts to laugh. Sure, it's a bit of a nervous laugh, but she's joking, right? It isn't long until they're at the apartment building...he did say that they were fairly close. Greg gets out to open the doors for the both of them and Warren takes the bag of food from him with a quiet, "Thanks. Take the rest of the night off." He can get Fern home himself.

Still holding onto Fern's hand, should she let him, he leads her into the building. There's a quick stop at the Security desk, "Jake, this is Fern. Feel free to give her carte blanche for now and could you let Douglas know?" The security guard grins and nods his assent before buzzing them through to the elevator area.

The bag of food is handed over, "Mind holding this for a second?" Warren has to get his key to unlock the button to his apartment. Not everyone can get to the penthouse.

Fern gets out of the car every bit as carefully as she got in, smiling at Greg, although there's a bit of shyness in it now. "Thank you, Greg." She keeps her hand comfortably in Warren's, following him into the building. Trying to look around at everything at once, Fern focuses to flash her smile to the security guard. "Hello, Jake." Then her attention wanders again, only half coming back as she takes the food from Warren. "This is a nice building," she says quietly. Nothing at all like her own building, that's for darn sure. She doesn't notice Warren using a key, and probably wouldn't realize why if she did.

Angel nods, "Thanks, I liked it. It had all the stuff I was looking for when I moved in." The elevator ride isn't very long and the doors open to a simple, elegant hallway. The keys are put back into a pocket as the security code is entered on a keypad to open the interior door. Once the door is opened, he reaches to take the food again, "Come on in. I...didn't get a chance to clean much, so I apologize." He didn't think that he'd have visitors, so a few things might be out of place or out when they might otherwise be put away like...used glasses or work notes.

There's a questioning look on Fern's face as the elevator doesn't open into the typical hallway she was expecting. She surrenders the food, which is a good thing because she might have dropped it as she steps inside and gets her first look. "Oh.... wow..." She expected something really nice, but she can't say she expected this, and she wasn't exactly prepared for it by anyone. More than simply walking in, Fern sort of drifts inside, her eyes wandering, trying to take the whole thing in. The decor is decidedly Warren, understated yet elegant. There's gadgets and doodads that she's never seen before and has -no- idea what they're for. But it's the view that draws her toward the windows.

Angel closes the door and steps in after Fern, letting her look around as much as she'd like. He sets the food into the kitchen and gets down plates and utensils for them to use even as he watches Fern. When she moves towards the windows, he offers, "That's what sold me. The view's incredible and I have sky access."

Fern frowns lightly as she turns, "Sky access?" It takes her a beat, then her eyes widen. "Oh! For flying, yes." She's getting accustomed enough to his wings that they're becoming just part of him, not 'omg he's got wings!!'. "It's really lovely," she says, walking toward him. The little waitress steps lightly, as if afraid too heavy a tread would damage the floor. But it's all just so... nice. As she nears the kitchen she notices a glass on the counter. Now that's something familiar, and it brings her smile again. It's a little thing, but it's endearing... he's not living in a sterile box.

While he does have a cleaning service, they aren't there every day. The place is definitely lived in, just not terribly cluttered. "You like it? I mean, I do, but it can be a little big for just one person to rattle around in at times...even if I do take up more space than most." He sets out the plates of food, "Want to eat over here? There's the dining room...or even in front of the television?" Warren then winces, "Forget that. That was stupid...we're not fourteen."

"It is huge," Fern agrees, stepping over close to Warren. "But I like it. It's... you." She laughs softly as he winces, letting one hand rest softly on his arm. "It's not stupid. I'm almost tempted to say yes to that, because I hardly ever get to watch tv." She's not got one in her apartment, it's way out of her budget. "But I'd rather pay attention to you than anything on tv. So how about in here?" The dining room looks like they could lose each other. She leans, breathing in the smells of the food. "I didn't realize how hungry I am until just this second."

The plates are brought over to the breakfast nook, "Your shawarma, mademoiselle," Warren goes to pull a chair out for her before he also takes his seat. All of the chairs either have no backs or very skinny backs so that he can sit comfortably in them. "We can always watch television later? I also have a lot of movies...but yes. Food."

Good food and then an evening of tv and hopefully cuddles with a sweet guy? Fern wonders for a moment if she's died and gone to heaven. She grins at the thought, nodding in agreement with Warren's suggestion. "Yes, I'd like that very much." She slips into the offered chair, "Thank you." That curious look is back, and she asks, "What kind of movies do you like?"

"What?" is asked when she gives him that look. "Oh! Want something to drink? No wine...I remember." He hops back up and moves into the kitchen again, "Movies? Well, it depends on my mood, I guess. I haven't seen one in the theater in ages, but...I like some classics. Some comedies. Some that make you think...I like movies to have plot...not just blowing things up, you know?"

"I was just wondering how I could possibly have gotten so lucky," Fern says quietly. She watches him rebound back out of his chair, grinning again. "Do you have any diet soda? Water is good, if you don't." Soda is another luxury she doesn't splurge on, unless she needs the caffeine at an audition. "I haven't been to a movie theater in a long time either. Do you ever watch scary movies?"

Warren pauses and grins back at Fern, "I've been asking myself that all day." The smile turns into an apologetic look, "No diet...no soda at all, actually. Sorry...uhm. I have water and orange juice." He still does live like a bachelor, after all. He'll get two glasses of water then and bring them over. "Scary movies? Not really." Sitting back down, he offers, "I've seen enough like that in reality that the movie doesn't let me escape."

"The water is great," Fern says agreeably, watching him moving in the kitchen. Her eyes stay on him as he returns and sits again. "I like scary movies," she admits. "Maybe because things have always been ubernormal for me." That could also have something to do with why she's seen so many odd things, and has barely blinked at them. She's been training for this all her life. Or, it's just all so overwhelming that she doesn't even try to process most of it.

The dinner is delicious and the conversation is somewhat light as they eat. Once they're done, Warren will actually clear the table, box up the leftovers and put them in the fridge and shows Fern where the movies are located. She's allowed to choose the movie they watch as he gets some more water and some chocolates that he has in case they want to nosh during the movie. He's happy to settle on the couch with her, but...he is probably less interested in watching the movie and more interested in Fern's actual closeness.

Fern is no slacker, and she doesn't let Warren work alone. Work goes faster together, anyway, right? She chooses a light comedy, one that she's seen before, because she doesn't think she'll be paying enough attention to the movie to put in anything she actively needs to follow. Her shoes are toed off so she can tuck her feet up, getting comfortable against Warren. But she was right in her assumption that he would be too distracting. She's almost hyper aware of every place they touch, and the light current that seems to buzz through her nerves in those spots.

If asked later, Warren might not even remember what movie was finally chosen. His attention is fully on Fern as they lean up against each other on the couch. He's tentative and seems hesitant to move too fast, for her sake, but he's also aware of the electricity between them. Should she even move to do so, he'll let her touch his wings -- something that not many have permission to do as they are highly sensitive and delicate.

It's a little disappointing when the movie ends, because Fern knows that she'll have to be going home soon, and it's suddenly not an idea that appeals to her very keenly. The more she's around Warren, the more Fern likes being around him. If she squints a little bit, she can even imagine his apartment isn't the opulent penthouse, although it's still miles better than her own. She sighs softly, having even sat through the credits just to buy some extra time, and says, "I suppose I should get going."

Angel takes in a breath to say something but lets it out with a sigh. "Yeah, I guess it's late. Are you working tomorrow?" He also doesn't seem to want to move from being next to her. This just feels so...right. How did he get through all these years with this missing?

The question gets a nod, "Three until closing... ten." Then there's the quick tidy up, and the subway ride home again. Fern wants to ask if she'll see him again tomorrow, but now it's her worrying that she might move too fast, and it's too soon to see him so often. This whole mating dance can be really stupid sometimes, she decides. Finally, reluctantly, she straightens her legs, planting her feet on the floor to get up.

Reaching out quickly to catch her hand, Warren asks, "Do you want to meet for lunch? I can then fly you down to Brooklyn...it'll be faster than the subway." He presumes, having never ridden in one. He stands as she does, but pulls her in for yet another kiss.

So he wants to see her too. Fern nods again, undeniably pleased, "I'd like that a lot." She doesn't double check that it won't interfere with his business, because right now she just doesn't care if it does as long as he's willing to take time to be with her. His pull is stepped into, and Fern pushes up onto her toes, pressed close against him to steady herself. She nips his bottom lip playfully, whispering, "I don't want to say good night." But ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

He doesn't care that it might interfere. This is new and far more important than his silly job at the moment. With his breath a little high, Warren whispers back, "I'd ask you to stay, but I don't want anything to burn up too fast. I mean...I'd love for you to stay."

One small hand sneaks up to the back of Warren's neck, gently pulling him forward as she pushes up again. This kiss carries more urgency and a promise of things to come, and when she pulls back again her own breathing is faster, shallow. "I would love to, but you're right." She pauses long enough to lick her lips, eyes direct on his own. "And I think if I don't leave, like, now, there's a high risk I won't." At least she's honest!

Warren really doesn't want that kiss...or this evening to end. But he nods when she explains, agreeing. "I know. I...do you want me to fly you back? Or I can call you a cab," since he let Greg go for the rest of the night.

Mmmmm, flying, pressed close to him, feeling his muscles moving... Fern only lets herself muse on this for a brief few seconds, before she makes the smart decision. "I think it ought to be a cab." There's no telling that she'd actually let him go if he flew her there. She makes no move to pull away, saying softly, "I had a really nice time tonight. I hope we do this a lot more."

He understands the decision. Nodding, Warren holds her another moment before he actually pulls away to get the rest of the takeout. "Want to take it home? I'll...walk you downstairs and make sure that Jake gets a cab for you." It's part of their job, after all. Returning to her side, "I had a really nice time too and I'm looking forward already to seeing you tomorrow."

Fern lets go of him reluctantly, moving to retrieve her coat. "No, how about you keep the leftovers and I'll come help you eat them? And I think we'd better say good night up here. If we drag this out much longer, I can't be held entirely responsible for my actions." It's a light tease, but there's a good dose of serious in the words. She takes one last kiss at the elevator, with a promise to see him tomorrow.