Adulescentulus Carnifex

[Mordecai Lecter]

Oh, quite cute. Yes, thatta girl.

He smiled jovially at her blush and turned his head to watch Jarvis come by with the two pints requested, which Mortie took in turn, handing one off to Rowan. The blonde man settled back into his seat and took a quiet gulp of the fresh and perfectly poured Guinness, watching her looking around, trying in vain to hide her nerves. Normally by now, the madman of an inner voice, a vicious anti-conscience would be making his suggestions or chiding his interest altogether to try and flare up the guilt he still often felt for what he had turned into and was still becoming more and more. The drink seemed to make for smooth travels and freedom of thought... most of the time. Fortunately, it was a meeting of ease with Rowan York, tonight.

"Afraid not, Missy Rowan. It's just you." A hint of a grin flashed up in his mouth, then reduced itself back to a smile. Even with the heat on, it wasn't as warm in here as she was trying to make it out to be. He found himself liking the girl well enough. "So how do you like the restaurant? Hard to keep up at first, I've seen that enough times myself."

[Rowan York]

Neutral topic! Yaaaay!

Without missing a beat, Rowan recovered herself. "Yeah, I still have that lost, new girl halo surrounding me, huh?"

Running a fingertip around the rim of her new glass, she thought about her answer for a moment. Not really a deep inquiring, she was just buzzing a little and didn't want to sound stupid.

"The job's great. I really like the place and all. I guess I just haven't found the right level of confidence yet. I'm still trying to keep straight who everyone is and where to find the things I need. I guess I would be more useful if I learned to bellow at the cooks for what I wanted like the rest of the wait staff, but I'm just not comfortable hollering at people I don't know.."

"Yet..", she grinned back at him.

[Mordecai Lecter]

Mordecai mused with silence in the drinking of his pint, listening to her answer his question. The shy little mouse was coming out of her hidey-hole to be a sociable creature with the cat across the table who, oddly enough, was interested in more than just tearing her flesh for a meal. The fact that she was becoming more relaxed could easily be attributed to the alcohol but she hadn't exactly turned tail and scuttered off upon sight of him. He was, after all, a handsome creature himself and therefore he could not blame her for sticking around. There were other reasons but one reason alone was often enough.

"Yet? So perhaps, there is a bolder creature under that skin." He chewed on that word of hers a moment, the drawing out of it, the inviting grin of hers catching him hook, line and sinker for the cliffhanger that it was. He couldn't help but smile back, partly out of a mere need to respond, partly... well, partly something else. The blonde chef leaned forward just a tad, relaxing on the table and catching her eyes, a mix of mirth and other enticing things within his. "Might there be anything I can do to make you more comfortable, Missy Rowan, so that this 'yet' of which you speak might arrive sooner?"

[Rowan York]

Leaning forward, Rowan braced her elbow on the table, resting her chin into the waiting cup of her palm. Decorum be damned. Returning his grin, she even felt like a cute little fuzzy thing about to be plucked up and munched on by a predator, but she still couldn't help admiring the allure of said beastie. He was a looker.

"Oh, I'll get there. Sooner or later they'll wish they hadn't tried ignoring me. As far as you, though..", she lifted her pint again, knocking the glass against his own with a soft, chiming tap.

"Actually, you seem to have already made me feel quite comfortable. Is that a hidden talent of yours?" she inquired, taking a sip of her brew.

[Mordecai Lecter]

Good, good. He nodded to himself, ingesting another mouthful. She was reciprocating the game, interested, going along for the trip. There was more to this quiet little mouse than a bundle of nerves and wariness and it gave him a certain little pleasure inside. She was connecting to him in these little ways and it seemed to feed him in a fashion. How far down does the rabbit hole go? That was always the question. Maybe he could keep this one around for a while. Mortie licked foam from the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, watching her speak, seeing her flirt; jolly things, toasting glasses together.
<o></o>
Hidden talent. She has no idea.
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“I guess you could say that. Glad to hear I could improve your night. Your company has improved mine a great deal.” His voice dropped volume to a conspiring tone. “I believe it could only get better from here.”

[Rowan York]

She chuckled, but only to cover the fact that she was locked in a toes-curled, heart slamming, moment of unseemly bliss. She had no idea what alternate universe she'd fallen into where new hires suddenly found themselves wanting to be the happy meal served up to cleaver wielding butchers, but Rowan was ready to be filleted..

Grinning like a ninny, she was startled into an involuntary squeal of fright as a loud clap of thunder suddenly tore through the night. The lights flickered, and then suddenly went out altogether, and she was left with her drink half way to her lips, a look of panic in her eyes. A second later, the torrential downpour outside was biblical in proportions..

"Oh.. well, that's just great.", she sighed in defeat.

[Mordecai Lecter]

"Marvelous." He muttered, about the same time that Rowan's utterance passed her lips. The sudden absence of light was completely unexpected, as well was the downpour, it seemed, inspiring the thought that neither of them had consulted a weather report earlier in the day and prepared accordingly. The cool pint, the warm pub and the vengeful precipitation all clashed with each other somehow. There would be no perfection to this day and it didn't surprise Mordecai in the least. Perfection wasn't exactly number one on his list of priorities at the moment, but the dark-haired, mouse-shy woman across from him was steadily gaining significance in his interests. She had a chance at being prioritized.

What a businesslike approach you're taking, boy. My, my... I'm so very proud of you. Absolutely tickled.

The grip on the pint of Guinness tightened a moment, along with a collection of muscles in his face, promptly relaxing at the quick realization of his company. Fortunately, her attention was focused on the current plight and she saw nothing of the flicker in his expression. It was worth a mention that the onset of dark by way of electrical short helped in matters, too. He should have known that voice wouldn't stay away for long. It was in his head and therefore quite difficult to brush off. Not letting the dark deter him from his pint, he tipped his head back with the glass as the liquid fell with a fluid motion (Ha ha ha...) down his gob. Palming his lips and surrounding area dry, Mortie placed the pintglass back on the table and pulled his wallet from the right butt pocket of his jeans and fished out a couple bills for the drinks, tucking them into a lip on the underside of the table. Jarvis and him had a little system, an understanding. Mortie had kept this same table for some years, with that.

"Well... we are left with very few options, milady." He contributed again to the now-lightless conversation, a hint of a playful smirk colouring his features, if she could see it at all. The emergency lights kicked in, casting light from the edges of the room. The red light from the 'Exit' sign reached to tint the chef's face. Jarvis was a good man. A man that knew what he was doing. "Either way, we are going to become quite soaked."

[Rowan York]

"You know, I think you're right..", she agreed. They were in for a dousing.

She shuffled out of the seat and rose, trying to mentally navigate through any furniture she may have passed on the way in, so that she didn't make an ass of herself on the way out!

"I guess that's the end of our fun then.", following the light toward the front door, she looked out at the rain soaked evening with displeasure.

Just when things were getting interesting too.

"I'm still a few blocks up yet. Are you close by?"

[Mordecai Lecter]

He could see her well enough by the red exit light as he slid out of his seat, gathering his jacket around himself and doing up the zippers and toggles, moving to stand behind her, a clear difference in height. Mordecai quietly placed one hand on each of Rowan's shoulders and looked over her, out at the rain with her.

"Just about a block and a half away..." He drifted off in that thought, his brow furrowing. "...and I can't believe for a second I've never seen you about before. Outside of work, I mean."

Either she's a recluse, new to the neighbourhood, or... gasp! You've not seen her outside of work before. What are you going to do now, boy? What are you going to do?

His strong hands gave her shoulders a squeeze - nothing too hard, just a hair tougher than gentle and his face formed a moment's grimace that she couldn't see with his place behind her. He continued to speak.

"It won't matter when we leave. Soaked is soaked is soaked, milady." His hands slipped from her shoulders and he went around her to push open the door a crack, offering her a smile defeated by the onslaught of unfavourable weather. Not that the weather in this part of the world was usually anything favourable, in any case. "Come on, I'll walk with you as far as you wish to go."

[Rowan York]

The moment his hands settled on her shoulders, Rowan thought she was going to disgrace herself and start blushing and giggling like some other bubble-brained representative of her gender. She didn't though. She managed to hold still and just let her eyes drift closed in a second, stolen just for her own private enjoyment. The sound of his voice right behind her refreshed the little wave of bliss and she was only shaken out of it when he suddenly gave her a slightly more aggressive squeeze.

Mortie was delicious. That was that. He was gorgeous and interesting and probably great at..everything, but.. there was something else there. Some yet to be discovered aspect of him that lurked quietly beneath the surface that scared her, just a little. Normal people did not hurl meat cleavers at co-workers' heads. Whatever it was that troubled the oh-so-tasty carver of slaughtered animals, she suspected she'd only witnessed a tiny fragment..

Still, her beer saturated brains reasoned, she worked with him. Jarvis had seen her with him, and he was, basically, a nice guy. So there was no problem in letting him walk her home, or even stopping off at his place until the rain decided to stop pummeling them, right...?

Right?!?

"Yeah.. Let's get out of here.", she smiled into the rain.

Resolved to getting drenched, she stepped out into the downpour and tilted her face up to the rain, embracing it rather than trying to get away from the inevitable.

With a little laugh she looked back at Mortie. "I used to love playing in the rain..", she explained..

[Mordecai Lecter]

The way she stepped out and welcomed the rain brought the kind of smile to his face that hadn't been present there for some time. She looked like she was truly delighted and it pleased him to see that somehow. Looking back at Jarvis through the red exit light, he waved and stepped out the door, letting it swing shut behind him. The blond man stepped out into the rain and lifted his chin a second, letting the drops pelt his facial landscape and blinking the precipitation away several times before looking on his newfound companion again.

"Used to, hm?" A roguish grin stepped up on his visage and he stepped closer, leaving a mere foot between Rowan and he. He looked right into her eyes, wondered if she would look back or shy away, as some women do. "And now?"

She looked as if she could dance in the rain and enjoy it, catching cold be damned. Mortie shoved his hands in his pockets and let the rain begin to soak into him, standing there, stalemate-like. The rain didn't seem much of a bother right now.

[Rowan York]

Lifting and cupping her hands, Rowan caught some of the rain then tossed it into the night air to crash down to the pavement with the rest. Her attention was arrested by the presence of the man before her, she quit playing long enough to answer his question, raindrops dripping from her eyelashes and down her cheeks.

"And now..?", she laughed up at him, oblivious to the scrutiny she was under. "Apparently I still do!"

Tipping her face up to watch the rain stream passed a street light, Rowan had to admit it was not all bad. "It's kind of pretty..", she nodded toward the light. "..and it smells all.. primitive or something. I love that smell."

Shuffling back and forth on her feet, she realized her shoes were already beginning to squish a bit from the soaking. It didn't bother her now, but tomorrow it very well might. "Shall we walk?"

[Mordecai Lecter]

"Yes..." He paused, considering her words. "...primitive."

Mortie could feel the wet soaking to his bones and found the idea of starting their walk a rather agreeable one. Being the gentleman he fancied himself to be, the tall, blond chef offered the lady his arm, which she seemed to gladly take.

"I do think that is a good idea. I don't know about you, but I'm not terribly keen on catching ill." He admitted. "Something warm is in order the moment I step through my door. And I think a good toweling and dry clothes."

He paused, starting to walk, then seemed to be pondering something or other, wondering if the thought he had running through his mind was worth pursuing.

[Rowan York]

Walking with her arm tucked into Mortie's, it seemed almost natural to keep close to his side. Shared body heat was better than catching a chill, and we must be practical! That's what Rowan kept telling herself, with a little smile.

"Something warm? What like a cup of cocoa?", she asked him.

"I think I'm out and it's too late for coffee. I'd be up all night."

Even if the night had started out weird, with Mortie flinging cleaver's around, it was ending on a rather pleasant note. Rain be damned, there was something to be said for being walked home from work in a downpour by a gorgeous guy. Again she wondered what the next days would bring? Would he still be this charming, or was this just for tonight?

[Mordecai Lecter]

"I don't drink much coffee, to be honest." Mortie stated.

He smiled, thumbing a toggle on his coat where his left hand lay, making a futile effort to wipe rain from his brow with the other hand before just shoving his right hand into the right trouser pocket and just letting it be. It seemed strange now, that this girl he'd very likely frightened the dickens out of was being quite friendly with him. He rationalized that the alcohol might have something to do with it, but on the other hand, he did have his charms and perhaps she was just forgiving and braver than she thought.

Of course, what she had witnessed, for all she knew, was just a bad night. The exception to the rule. He tried so hard to keep it that way. A part of him felt oddly guilty at having such a close rapport with this girl - that part of him which was still devoted to that man, his once-domitor... now no longer. It had been that way for several months now. He wondered if this was the beginning, if it was far from over. He hoped that this inner conflict would soon pass, much like he did many times throughout the day and night, but no dice.

"Cocoa... yes. I do think this dreadful weather calls for something of comfort. I've even a fireplace, if you really want cliché." He deadpanned.

[Rowan York]

She almost stopped short in the rain battered street, but it was no more than a slight break in their stride.

"You have a fireplace!?", she sounded consumed with jealously. "Oh, that must be lovely on nights like this. I wish I had one! I'd just curl up in front of a nice blaze and go to sleep like some kitten."

Rowan hoped she wasn't rambling on again, but suspected she was, and hoped that he didn't mind. The alcohol had saturated her veins with something like holiday cheer. She had the strangest urge to just act like a kid and let loose.

God, she needed to get out of her cage more often. One night and she was coming all apart!

[Mordecai Lecter]

The thought of a charming girl such as Rowan curling up by his fire, addled on alcohol, nursing a cup of cocoa was positively delicious. He shook his head free of the thought, as soon as certain connotations attached themselves to the delectable word, passing it off as shaking off a little rain. Which was, in the first place, a futile effort.

"Well, you are most welcome to... um..." He trailed off, a smile and a pause, glancing at her, before continuing. "...I mean to say, you are welcome to join me for a cocoa and a sit by the fire. If the notion isn't too bothersome to you."

If the idea of being in a butcher's den doesn't frighten you.

"I'll even lend you a towel and the use of my facilities." He finished, trying not to say too, too much.

[Rowan York]

Oh..my..God.

Was this the subtle, 'Want to come over under the pretense of cocoa and have sex?', query then? Rowan was positively speechless with blushes, uncertainty, and good common sense! Absolutely not. She was not that kind of girl and if she went home with him, he would most definitely think she was!

Still the allure of a fire, cocoa and a little while longer in the company of her curious co-worker did have a certain appeal. She glanced at the time, seeing that it was still early. They had both been sent home early..

Early, early, early!, she convinced herself.

Far too early for depraved seductions of silly waitresses, right? Now why did that suddenly sound like an exciting idea? Something was very wrong with her, and now she was standing in the middle of the rain soaked street not answering him.

"Oh! Umm.. Sure, I guess. That would be nice, yes!", she babbled out a lame response, clearly intimidated, and interested at the same time.

[Mordecai Lecter]

He smiled, liking to hear what she had said. He showed her that smile. It would be so easy to just turn on her right this minute, bring that smile much, much, closer. So easy and so very tempting. Patience must be exercised.

This one? Are you certain?

No, he wasn't. In fact, no. NOT this one. Though he was certain she would be delectable - his eyes filled nearly to overflowing on lust of the thought - he would not allow himself to have her be tasty. Not that far. He didn't look at her, silently calming the sudden speeding up of his heartbeat.

"That..." He breathed in, made himself look as if he was enjoying the downpour, and breathed out, laughing. "...is wonderful. I would hate to think of you catching cold if it could be prevented."

And, of course, that begged a question. Something played across his face.

"You're not scheduled tomorrow, are you?"

[Rowan York]

"Absolutely not!" Rowan suddenly found that fact counted among the pros rather than the cons. Being one of the newer employees on staff pretty much guaranteed that she got the fewest of the worst shifts possible, and she was grateful for those most days. "In fact.. I don't think I'm due back for a couple days."

The rain soaking her skin gave her cause to want to quicken her pace, ready for that promised hot drink before a fire. She'd have run, if she had a clue where she was going. "After you...", she grinned, tucking her face into his shoulder.