WHAT DO YOU CALL A FAKE NOODLE? AN IMPASTA! [TAG: Lincoln]

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"I can't believe that you've never had homemade gnocchi before. You're really missing out." The curly haired brunette practically bounded through the restaurant's dining area holding two plates of freshly made goodies. It was late enough that the restaurant had closed for the day but she was never one to turn away a hungry person... or really any person. Bea loved people. She loved feeding them even more. Besides, what her boss didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Mashed potatoes, flour, cheese, sauce... Nothing can go wrong there." She went on, loving nothing more than regaling people with chats about food - whether they wanted to hear them or not. "So many different ways to dress them up and such a cinch to do. Easy as pie - which I also make really darn well by the way." She laughed. She was humble about a lot of things but her cooking ability wasn't one of them. The muggle was proud of what she could churn out and there was nothing that she enjoyed more than seeing an empty plate.

"Only monsters dislike pasta. I'm sure of it." She informed them with conviction. Realizing she was doing her usual ramble thing a light pink rose to her cheeks and she gave a lopsided, somewhat embarrassed (but still very much endearing) grin. "Gnocchi with Pomodoro sauce. Simple but delicious. Have at it." She gestured toward the dish, eagerly awaiting for them to take a bite.

"I'm Beatrix by the way, my friends call me Bea so you can call me that if you like, I prefer it actually - what's your name? I should have asked that before, huh?" Her best friend would have shot daggers at her if he knew she had served someone free food without so much as knowing their name. She could be too trusting at times, then again, that was just Bea. Speaking of, the telltale jingle of the door at the early evening hour on a Saturday evening pointed to one in the very same...

"Linky!" She exclaimed, doing nothing to hide the excitement and utter joy that spread across her features (because why would she? he was just about her favorite person on the entire planet). "There you are." Her flats carried her across the room and she pushed him lightly from behind toward the modest bar. "Sit. Sit. Sit." Popping behind the bar she turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest with a playful frown that she couldn't even be serious about. "You're late." Yeah, maybe by five seconds. Even so, it was fun to chastise him even if he was funnier on purpose than she was.

"Coming from anywhere fun? Fighting an orc, taking down a troll, reaching a peace treaty with a garden gnome, tea with a werewolf? Tell me. What, what, what?" She rambled off the possibilities finishing with a large grin, not even stopping to take a breath.

TAG: @lincoln

[Deleted]

The pitter-patter of soft rain against Link's second-floor apartment window accented his activity of choice quite nicely. He sat in an oversized armchair, a lone standing lamp illuminating himself as well as Marbles, who elected to snooze on the head of the chair. In his hands, a potion-making book found itself open nearly halfway indicating that Lincoln had indeed made solid progress with this book over the past couple of days, against his better judgment. As interesting as the content of the book itself was, he found himself ready to be done with it for the time being. He had somewhere he had to be, after all - a restaurant after hours. Outside of being an amazing human being, he considered himself lucky to be on the up and up with somebody who would be willing to cook up some equally amazing grub after the establishment had closed. "I'll be back a little later buddy." He scratched behind the small cat's left ear before grabbing his lightweight jacket and heading out the door.

Subconsciously, as though driven by some unseen force, he knew exactly where he was going. He was going to stop by and see Bea. Because why not? That's the million-dollar question. He rang his sister 5 minutes out from the restaurant. It had become something of a habit at this point. Ava LOVED Bea's cooking. Well, everyone does. But Ava would kill a man for it.

"Hey Sis. I'm heading to Bea's."
"That's cute."
"Very funny, very funny. You know, you have mom's sense of humor."
"Mom's not funny."
"Now you're catching on. Do you want me to bring you anything back from the restaurant?"
"Hilarious. Did you write that yourself? Absolutely I want something from the restaurant. I'm thinking....shit I don't know, what's good?"
"Literally everything she touches is Iron Chef-quality stuff, you know that. Pick literally anything."
"Fine - bring me some pasta. I don't care which kind, sauce, or anything like that."
"Got it. Later sis."
"Later."

Ending the phone conversation saw Link arriving at the restaurant. He spotted Bea through a window. She was as she always appeared to be. Smiling, darting around, and talking. He walked the sidewalk leading to the entrance the restaurant, and proceeded through the entrance. "Hello ma'am are you op-" with seemingly ninja-like reflexes, she was behind him, ushering him towards the bar. As she pushed him forward, he noted the other person eating. He let out an audible chuckle. Oh yea, that's right. It's not just me that's lucky, it's anyone within her sphere that's lucky.

"Yea you'll have to forgive me, Marbles and I were going over tax stuff. It's a nightmare, soooo much money on catnip. It's a real problem." It didn't take long for her to give into those urges of magical interest. He knew she liked the stuff. And he knew one day, he'd introduce her to it. But he also knew it was a potentially dangerous road to travel - for both of them. "Wow. You got it exactly right. Every single one of those things in order. You must've been following me or something." He rolled his eyes, though her innocence on the subject was refreshing, truthfully. "I kid I kid. Honestly.. I've just been hangin' out with Marbles all day. I did get some pistachio gelato which was alright. And that's a day in the life of a wizard!" He played with the salt shaker in his hands before going on - "Oh uh, Ava wanted some pasta by the way. I'm sorry that every time I come here I take something back to her, but she's inclined to believe you're actually magically because of the food." He gently spun in his chair before whispering "Hey Bea - are you giving out free food again? I don't mean to Ava and I, I mean to regular people.. you know like.." He leaned his head in the direction of the person eating incredible-looking gnocchi, before turning back to her with a playfully stern look.


TAG: BEATRIX KIDDO

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"Marbles!" Beatrix exclaimed, unable to maintain her mock stern stance for a moment longer when the cat was mentioned. Beatrix loved people and all creatures: but Marbles was easily one of her favorites (and Lincoln of course). "How is he?" She hurriedly asked the question practically bouncing in her flats so very excited for the response which was most likely positive. Kind of a silly question to ask. For one, he was a cat. For another, she had just seen him four days ago during her last (frequent) visit. What could have changed in a matter of four days?!

"Well, maybe you should start to pull your weight around so Marbles doesn't have to keep covering for you." She joked, poorly, leaning over the counter one slender finger lightly poked him in the chest but even that playful little lecture didn't last long as soon she was whisked away thinking about what he did for a job. How he lived... Gosh. She let out a sigh caught up in the whimsy of it all resting her chin in her hands and her elbows propped up on the bar looking at her closest pal wistfully. "Lucky..." And that was an understatement. In her opinion, Lincoln had won the jackpot: being a wizard and living the life that he did. The only magic she could do was a perfect soufflé each and every time and that was hardly actual magic...

"Oh shucks..." Her longing look was whisked away at his honest confession and her bottom lip protruded in a disappointed pout. "Not even one garden gnome?" She questioned hopefully only to have her mind instantly rerouted by another fact that he let slip. "Gelato." Her frown deepened and her brow furrowed. "Without me. Where did you go?" A certain shop's name came to mind and she gasped before he could answer. "Honestly, Linky. I make way better stuff than they do at Luigi's. Way, way better. A bajillion times better!" This wasn't bragging, it was the honest truth. Though perhaps this little lecture was exactly why he had gone without her (though, then again, he didn't have to include her in everything she just wished that he would). But she couldn't stay cross with the man, not for long. 

"For Ava-" She reached out and took the salt shaker out of his hand with ease. "Anything." There was that trademark smile. Back again. "Dealer's choice then?" Beatrix was a fan of Ava (then again she was a fan of everyone) but the two had hit it off. Bea with her positivity and accidental bluntness and Ava with her... purposeful bluntness. Truthfully it was up in the air whether Lincoln liked it or not but - oh well - too little too late!

At Lincoln's whisper she leaned forward, halfway across the counter so that she could hear him. These two and their secrets (more than either of them would ever know). "So what if I am?" She informed him in a hushed voice, smile fading. "Alejandro went home for the night. I can do what I like... within reason of course." She straightened, tucking her hands in the front pocket of her apron presenting herself upright and tall... even though she was of short stature.

"Why?" She blinked. As much as she wanted to put up a fight she trusted Lincoln and held his word in higher regard more than anyone else in her life. "Do you think that I shouldn't?" He knew what was best at the end of the day so she would listen to him if it was a valid concern.

[Deleted]

Only Bea could imagine Marbles as being anything other than exactly how he was on Tuesday. (Unprompted of course. Maybe Marbles got sick, but she would’ve been the first to know, because she’d be obscenely disappointed if she wasn’t.) But that was just another one of the many reasons Link was so intensely in love with her she was a special person to everyone. Even if Marbles wasn’t doing so hot, Link was certain that if someone’s natural disposition could change that, it would absolutely be Bea’s. “He’s great still! Same as Tuesday. I’ll tell him you asked about him, he’ll be thrilled.”

He loved her jokes. Was she, Sarah Silverman, or George Carlin? Nah. But neither was he. And that was more than enough to make him feel good, if only momentarily. “Certainly. I’ll start doing a little more around the house - maybe I should clean his litter box twice a day as a start.” He heard he mutter her proclamation of his luck, to what, he was unsure of. Perhaps his stunning good looks? Witty banter? The fact that he gets to freely traverse the magical world? It was likely the latter. She would undoubtedly ask him at some point again for a tour, as if it was a haunted hayride. He grinned, a bit unknowingly. This would just be another one of those things that they’d have together. He just had to plan how best to execute it.

Immediately after, he realized he made a grave mistake. Oh shit the gelato. “I-” before he could even defend himself, Bea was already kneedeep in her gelato/Anti-Luigi's lecture. And Link had better study up. ”Okay okay, to be fair, A. You were working, and do you remember the last time I pulled you away from work while you were on the clock? It was 15 minutes to grab a coffee and Alejandro almost had a hernia. And he was mostly mad at ME for some reason. Like I abducted you. He almost chased me out of here with a ladle when we came back Bea. I’m not going through that again. And 2… wait did I start with a number or letter? Either way, I promise I will never eat gelato unless we can get it together, and/or you make it.” This was in large part, a promising sign Link. He was usually teetering between hopeless pessimism, and mild optimism. In truth, he simply didn’t want to bridge the gap into that pessimism. He didn’t want to lean into the truth he’d tried to bury many times over. And proximity exacerbated the issue that much more. Soon enough, she’d notice if she hadn’t already. So he had to pick and choose when he could be around her.

He spun gently again on his bar stool, this time counterclockwise, before agreeing to Bea’s interrogative. ”Yep. She just wants some sort of pasta. Anything is fine. Hell, you can just conjure up some butter noodles and call it a day if you want.” In truth, Ava would likely be more than fine with it. The baby of the family still gets her way, and Bea doesn’t have to work to hard to do it. “She-” he caught her beaming as he made another stool rotation and had to stop himself - he wasn’t sure if he was getting dizzy from the stool or that damned smile. Something about that smile felt special. ”Yep, d-dealer’s choice.” He gave his head light shake to alleviate any remaining wooziness, and replaced his elbows on the bar in front of him, leaning forward over the edge to hear her hushed response.

He knew she was just being kind. It’s who she was. But he also knew that if she did it enough, word would spread that this magnificent chef is giving her food away for free. And people would come back over, and over again for it. I’m not much better myself, but at least know I know the woman. He pondered the best way to tell her that she might be being taken advantage of, or whether it was worth pursuing at all. ”I know Alejandro went home but..” He paused briefly, considering his words carefully. Her eyes conveyed genuine concern, and interest in these next words. Maybe this one time, the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze. ”...I..think you should do what you think is best. Just don’t get in trouble with it. There’s no magic to bail you out.”

He shot a glance over to the gnocchi-eating man, now finished and standing up from his plate. “That was magnificent ma’am. Easily the best gnocchi I have ever had. Thank you so much.” He announced, before slowly shambling off into the night. He turned his attention back towards Bea - ”Hm. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He had a habit of ‘paying’ for the free food she gave away when he was present anyway. Tonight would be no different - he’d simply slip a 20 into the register prior to departing. “So now that I’ve thoroughly disappointed you about gelato, and demanded you prepare my sister dinner, what’s the plan for tonight?” Link often deferred to her for guidance on where the fun would be. Because damned if he ever knew.

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"What's so funny?" She inquired, immediately catching the grin that he didn't know he was sporting. "Well, go on... Spill." Hands rested on either of her hips as she impatiently waited for an explanation that she felt that she was entitled to due to her well-earned 'best friend' status. Beatrix didn't much like not being in the know and, unfortunately for her, she was often not in the know quite a bit. If only she had some idea of the ideas that Lincoln kept (one in particular). For now, she held onto the false belief that the two told each other everything, innocent as it was, so the fact that he was grinning and she didn't know the cause... well, she needed to get to the bottom of that immediately.

"Alejandro is a meanie." Beatrix declared (as if the word meanie was a curse word, and a foul one) with a frown, blowing a few strands of brown hair out from in front of her face. "Couldn't you, like, I dunno, cast a spell on him or something." She asked, leaning closer to her friend as they spoke in matching whispers like two gossips. Alejandro wasn't a kind man. He took credit for a lot of things Beatrix did, often made crass remarks about her appearance, and was just sour. Beatrix tried to see the best in everyone but with the restaurant owner and head chef it was tough. Still, she didn't wish harm on anyone and after a moment was quick to take it all back. "You know that I don't mean that right?" She asked her best pal sincerely. Beatrix Kiddo - not a cruel bone in her body.

Her smile back on her face when he promised to take her for gelato next time she then caught glimpse of the collar of his light weight coat sticking up. Out of habit, and an incessant need to help people at all times, she leaned across the bar and with her right hand lowered the uneven collar so that it sat right again. "Good." Her eyes lingered on his and her smile grew, referencing the gelato promise but her smile was all fondness for the man before her. Her Lincoln. Well, not hers really. Someday he would be somebody else's. Someone to come home to, and squeeze, and have idle chit chat with. Someday it would be someone else fixing his coat collar and she best be ready for that. It was that thought that had her smile fading and hand retreating. 

"I think that we can do better than butter noodles, Linky." Clearing her throat she turned her back on him behind the bar beginning to grab utensils and produce alike. "Honestly, if Ava knew that you had even suggested that." She returned to the island with the makings for pasta dough, seasonings, butternut squash, and a few other vegetables. "Butternut squash bake it is then." She declared, her smile back (it was hard not to have one when talking about food). And so she went to work.

"That's funny. You certainly don't seem to complain when you're on the receiving end." She teased him lightly beginning to skin and chop the orange squash. As the stranger wrapped up his meal and said his thanks he was greeted with a nod, warm smile, and blush. Hoping that Lincoln wouldn't see she turned her gaze immediately back down to her chopping. "Plan? No plan." She was more of a fly by the seat of her pants type gal anyways. "Alan invited me to O'Donahues with some of his college friends but I told him I was working which, mind you, I am. But honestly, I wasn't feeling up to it, I hate O'Donahues it's so dirty and loud and they don't even serve food. Not even an appetizer! Alan's friends are also a bit... archaic." That was an understatement. They were essentially thirty-year-old frat bros. "I would rather go home and read a good book. Gosh, even an ok book. A magazine even! Besides, I had a sneaking suspicion you would pop your head in." She smiled to herself finishing her chopping. "You remember Alan, yeah?" Alan had about four years on Bea. He was a senior in college when she was a freshman. She liked to think that they were friends but Alan liked to think that they were more than that. Of course she was oblivious to it all.

[Deleted]

Lincoln hadn’t expected to elicit such a strong reaction from the woman opposite him for something seemingly innocuous enough to him. Though, to her credit, pseudo-insinuation would mean more to her than she could know at the moment. Maybe he could have some fun with it. “Well..” What tales would he regale her of? Grandeur and gryffins? Amazement and ashwinders? Perhaps deviance, and dragons. He paused for a moment. “It’s a secret. For now anyway. But don’t worry, it’ll be a fun one. You trust me right?” He knew she wasn’t one to be left out of the loop, how it made her itch. There were certain loops that she would in theory be outside of at length. But the more he dwelled on that, the lower it brought him. In truth, being around her was a consolation prize he was more than willing to accept. Because what other choice did he have?

He slowly nodded his head at her assessment of Alejandro’s character. He remembered the conversations with her. Glossing over details and the severity of the things he did.. whenever Bea would come to Link, she would tell him how he was mean that day, or how or other malicious actions. But he had an instinctive feeling that he was worse than that. He didn’t know Alejandro well, but he knew his type. Nobody deserved it. But if anyone deserved it the least, it was Bea. He wasn’t a naturally angry person, but if anything got his blood boiling, it was hearing, and seeing how Alejandro made her feel, no matter how trivial her reactions to it seemed at the surface. “No I.. yes of course I know you don’t mean that.” Beatrix just didn’t have that intent in her. Which, of course, was a good thing.

In that next moment - Lincoln sat like prey in a trap. It was almost as if her eyes had captured his very soul. Dark pools emulating shades of the finest rosewood. He wasn’t one for flowery metaphors, nor was he a seer, but there in that restaurant, he swore he could see the future with her all at once just from those eyes. They lived together, they danced together, they had children running about, and grew old together. Nevertheless, however conveniently, his daydream had omitted how he bridges that gap to turn it from a daydream to his reality. She pulled away, face faltering and all at once, he found himself back in the restaurant. “Oh, uh.. bah, if she had a particular order she wanted, she could’ve called you herself. But that’s nice of you, Iron Chef. Both on her behalf and mine. Next time I'll bring the recluse by.” His smile faltered a bit as his head turned downward, seeing himself in the wood composite that made up the bar.

It took everything in him to not burst into laughter at her double entendre. Childish, perhaps. Hilarious? Absolutely. “Fair enough, I can’t say I’d ever complain when you’re the one giving, am I right?” Subtle. Maybe she’d pick it up. Maybe she wouldn’t. But damned if didn’t make him laugh, despite a rosy hue finding its way to his face. “Sorry that was.. Stupid. I’ve been on a blue comedy kick lately. Dark humor got a little too.. real for me, you know?” He offered a pitiful shrug, dusting off whatever pallor may have replaced his hue. For whatever it was worth, he missed her reaction to the stranger leaving.

Alan. Maybe it was all 'A' names. He felt his eyes imitate a rising and setting sun in his skull, rolling nearly so hard he was afraid for a brief moment they’d fall out it. He didn’t care for Alan. And he had a sneaking suspicion that verged on concrete proof that the feeling was mutual. He knew Alan liked her. Sometimes brutish in the way he showed it. And Alan knew Link liked her. Link didn’t necessarily mind that Alan was attracted to Bea. Who wouldn’t be? It was who he was as a person. She was better than Alan. So much better than Alan. Leaps and bounds and leagues better than Alan. “Oh. O’Donahues.” While he knew that she would appreciate his candor, he didn’t know if it was the time to give her a lecture about Alan. It was the conclusion of her statement that sent him a bit over the edge - ‘archaic friends’. He knew what that meant, and why she’d say that. “I remember Alan. And you’re totally right in not wanting to go. O’Donahues smells like.. feet and stale beer. And if you hang with me, well.. I only smell like feet so we’re halfway there.” He did a little shimmy, standing up from his bar stool. Fuck it. “Not to mention Alan just wants to get in your pants.” He scrunched his face as he dropped his patented Lincoln truth bomb. “Instead, once you finish the bake, we should walk along the river, and catch a movie at my place. Netflix just uploaded a new batch of movies.” They hang out all the time. But this sounded too close to date territory. He had to reel it in somehow. “And then I’ll even call you an Uber or Lyft after. Whaddya’ say Bea?” Not perfect, but good enough. He gave her finger guns as he awaited a response.

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"A secret?" She parroted his words back to him, her forehead and nose crinkling in both surprise and suspicion. Beatrix didn't like secrets. That is to say she didn't like being on the other side of things. She hated not knowing things. She loved being involved. Besides, since when did Lincoln keep something from her? Didn't they share everything? An ironic thing to be disappointed by considering the very large secret she was keeping from him. As nice as she was she could be hypocritical at times - she was human just like anyone else.

"Of course I trust you. Duh!" As much as she wanted to poke and prod him to get the info out stat, the urge to remind him how much he meant to her, even in a roundabout way, won out.

“Fair enough, I can’t say I’d ever complain when you’re the one giving, am I right?”

Beatrix's expression went blank, clearly missing the initial joke. A few seconds passed before it hit her like a bus and her whole face contorted. "Lincoln!" She exclaimed in horror before lightly slapping his upper arm. "So gross." Speaking of gross, her expression of disgust grew with his next little truth bomb. "You're nuts. He does not." She couldn't fathom it. One - that anyone would like her. Two - that it would be Alan. He liked football, and baseball, and had the emotional range of a raindrop. "We're friends. Just like you and I." She gave him a little nudge with her hand and found that the words, even though they were hers, cut. They cut deep. But she did well to mask it. She could be Lincoln's best friend if that's what the world had in store for her and she would be whatever he needed until the end of time. Just like always.

Marching out from behind the bar she wrapped her slender fingers around Lincoln's list and practically dragged the taller man behind the bar. "And I'm glad that you trust me enough to count on the fact that I won't tell Ava what you said." The corner of her lip gloss-painted lips curved into a wicked little smirk. Though there wasn't a mean bone in her body she did enjoy pushing Lincoln's buttons once in a while if only for his cute, sometimes wound up, responses. As sarcastic and silly as he could be her certainly whipped himself into shape whenever Ava (or for that matter: Bea) was near. 

Retrieving a second knife and cutting board she presented both to Lincoln. "Here." Blinking she awaited for him to move. Maybe he didn't know where to start. Actually, that was more than likely. Bea was the whiz in the kitchen, Lincoln was the master of eating it all. They evened each other out so to speak. With the intent of getting a move on she made a little circle in the air with her finger indicating that he turn around to the board and the produce. "Chop." Likewise, she turned to face her own cutting board before something came to mind and she turned briskly back to look at him. "Oh - and I get to be Morimoto." She stated definitively. "He was always my favorite." And with that she spun back around and began to dice an onion.

Standing and cutting next to Lincoln the difference in expertise levels was clear. Bea was making quick and purposeful work, like a maestro behind a piano. Ever the sweetheart, she opted to be the one to cut the onion. Last thing she needed was Lincoln cutting off a finger and crying before he even did it (then again males showing their emotions was so very sexy - she had decided this ages ago).

All at once a gasp out of nowhere emerged. "Oh! I almost forgot." Hurrying to the iPod and phone jack she retrieved her phone, inserted the dongle, and pressed play on one of her Spotify playlists as the music and voice of Chuck Berry filled the empty restaurant. A bright smile once again overtook her features and she returned to her spot next to him, bobbing her head back and forth to the tune while chopping happily. 

"It Follows just uploaded. We could watch that." She informed him, scooping up handfuls of diced onion into a pan with olive oil and lowering it on top of a plug-in burner. It wasn't much but she would make do just like always. "Bloody Disgusting gave it 9.5 bloody daggers out of ten."

TAG: @lincoln

NOTES: Playlist

[Deleted]

Lincoln laughed pitifully again. It was rare that he was openly crass with Bea, but if the opportunity is that open, one would have to be a fool not to take it. “Sorry, sorry. That’s one was a gimme.” He noticed clearly, laddering up his award-winning one-liner with his criticism of Alan drew her further. It was that naïveté that got her into messes sometimes. The bad Hinged dates were something that stemmed directly from this, and in Link’s eyes, that’s all Alan was. A bad Hinged date waiting to get worse. God. I hope he’s not friends like you and I. A confidence dampener. That one stung. Did she really see Alan the way she saw Link? The thought alone twisted Link’s face into an grimace as though he had smelled meat that had gone bad days ago. But as quickly as it formed, it dissipated. That’s not another conversation they needed to have. Not right now. “Listen I’m just saying. I have some experience in this department, and I’m telling you, that guy has the hots for you. I’d bet anything on it.” As innocent as the claim was, if she wanted to take him up on it, he wasn’t going to back down from it. "And trust me you can do better than Alan."

Lincoln groaned at her Ava comment. “Oh don’t you do that, don’t weaponize my sister. God last time she was on my case was when..” she questioned why he was wasting precious time in life not pursuing the things.. and people he was passionate about. Really pursuing, not dabbling. But making it a singular focus. Prioritizing making his dreams come true. “...I forgot to text mom happy birthday. She didn’t let that go for weeks.” As always. Again, another time, he guessed.

He gripped the knife in his hand, cringing as he did. It felt foreign and odd. Wands were no problem. Though just as dangerous, if not more so, they at least felt.. natural to him. He quickly turned, and looked around, as if he be implicated for some crime if he were to be caught holding a simple chef’s knife. He solidified his turn, face the produce, knife still awkwardly placed in hand. “I’ll give it a shot, but you’re gonna’ see real quickly that’d I’d make a much better butcher than a chef.” He gently rocked the knife back and forth across the produce as commanded. He mimicked what he had seen in culinary shows the best he could, but there was no replacing actual practice. The produce bucked and slide out from under the knife, the task altogether proving to be more difficult than he imagined. “Nah. No Morimoto. You get to be Bea. Bea is better than Morimoto.” He beamed without looking up from his duty - he didn’t need to lose a finger tonight. “Now Bobby Flay on the other hand.. I dunno’ Bea, he’d give you a run for your money.” Though in jest, he genuinely believed she could thrive in an Iron Chef environment. He of course, didn’t have much to compare her art to. He didn’t know any better. It was, perhaps, the one irrational thing he allowed himself to feel.

Lincoln jumped when she gasped, making him in turn also gasp. “What Bea?” He was worried she was the one who chopped a finger off. As she scurried off, he began to have an inkling of what she planned to do. Chuck Berry sprang to life sprang to life, and bounced off the walls all around her. “Ohoho, you know what I like.” He almost had a mind to bust out his best retro moves. But his best retro moves were a regular persons absolute worst anything moves. They were sacred, and going to stay that way. I could get used to this. “Man, what I’d give to go to a Chuck Berry concert.” A bit dorky, but what about Link wasn’t at that point?

“You know, somehow I have completely missed It Follows, so I’m really glad you said that. Next time will be your turn IF you promise me we won’t watch Hamilton for the 6th time in a row.” He didn’t care how many times she watched Hamilton. More Hamilton watches meant more time with him.

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"Some experience in that department?" She repeated, raising her brow suddenly intrigued by that newly dropped bread crumb. "How many people's pants do you try to get into then?" She asked playfully, completely missing the obvious and waved her knife a little bit in the air. "On second thought, don't answer that." She turned back to her cutting board and returned to her chopping, this time tackling a pepper. "I don't want to know." And she truly didn't. That would have hurt more than anything else. Knowing that there might be one woman that wasn't her catching his eye was painful enough. She didn't need to think about multiple people doing it. Were they prettier? Smarter? Funnier? All three? Well, at least they wouldn't be a better cook than her. That much she was certain of. Was she really that petty to cling to that one claim to fame? In this case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

"You really think so?" A light blush rose in her cheeks when he mentioned that she could do better. It wasn't the biggest compliment, Alan was kind of a big mess, but coming from Lincoln it meant the world. "Whether that's true or not I can promise you I do not like Alan Dellum and he absolutely does not have a crush on me. This, I can promise you." Oh. If only she knew. "Though I'm willing to bet that he remembers to text his mom on her birthday." Another little tease at Lincoln's expense but it was probably one that he would take in stride just like always. Just in case he didn't she caught his eye and gave him a wink accompanied by a wry little smile.

The two of them cut, diced, and chopped in a rare moment of quiet. Usually, one of them was always chattering on and on. As rare as it was it didn't feel foreign. In fact, it actually felt normal and comforting. To just be standing beside each other, working and existing. Together. Her eyes wandered to watch him work and smiling at how out of place he looked. The over focus on what he was doing, his brow furrowing as he tried not to mess up, how uncomfortable he looked... But he was trying. She wasn't egotistical enough to think that it was for her benefit but a small part of her wished that it was. That she could help him be a better person when he was already a great person. It tickled her.

She watched him for a long time, way too long, her smile growing at his use of a familiar nickname as well as what he said. All over she felt warm. For as distant as Link sometimes tried to be he sure was good at giving the warm and fuzzies. Prompted by him being extra sweet to her she went up on her tiptoes and placed a quick peck on his cheek. "You are the best." She smiled up at him before turning and returning to her own work. "And Bobby Flay is a hack. You can tell him I said so." She couldn't even let the joke sit there too long before apologizing for it. "Actually, please don't. He's good at what he does." Blushing profusely she reached over to scoop up some of the fruits of Lincoln's labor adding it to the pan and giving it a quick sauté.

"There's no spells for time traveling then?" She couldn't help but ask. While magic was normal for Lincoln and his family it was anything but for Beatrix who often marveled about how simple things like lightbulbs worked or that a tomato was both a fruit and a vegetable. "I mean, there has to be magic for just about anything you would think there would be one to go back in time. Back to the Future did it with a DeLorean." She shrugged a little giving the pan's contents another swirl and flip.

"Hey! I love Hamilton." Clearly. It wasn't like Lincoln was picking that one out off the Disneyplus cue. Heck, he didn't really even want Disneyplus until Bea talked him into it (insisted) mainly because she was scraping by and couldn't really afford extra niceties hence all of the Netflix at his place. "I am not throwing away my shot. I am not throwing away my shot..." She began to rap the lyrics horribly off beat still flipping the contents of the pan. "I'm just like my country I'm young, scrappy, and hungry and I'm not throwing away my-" She nudged against his side playfully. "Shot."

Quite pleased with herself she then nodded toward the drawer at the bottom half of the bar. "Can you hand me a baking pan please?"

[Deleted]

To be honest, Link thankfully didn’t have much to hide from Bea in that regard. “Ol’ Linky gets no play. Nothing to share even if I wanted to.” Dates were admittedly sporadic. Few and far between, and oftentimes felt more like obligations than anything born of a real desire to meet someone in the romance arena. In a way, he felt bad for his dates. There were looking for something real - something that they could potentially hang their hat on, while Link sat across from them often at dainty restaurants or other locales that he knew Bea would never possibly visit. And though he was mere feet from his intended date, his mind, and inescapable truth was always but a few miles away. “Better than Alan? Absofuckinglutely.” He absentmindedly muttered it lowly, almost coming out as a patented dad noise - a low drone that she may not have been able to hear. He hadn’t even realized he spoke it.

Lincoln was mid chop when she reiterated her affirmation of Alan’s seemingly platonic nature towards her. He sat the knife down next to his cutting board, and turned towards Bea, hands gripping the counter behind him, and a hint of disbelief written on his face. He was ready to retort immediately, but where would that get him? And what would it accomplish? He emulated a dramatic fall from grace, a dramatic simulation of being shot as she mentioned his mom-texting incident. “Ouch Bea. You’re probably right, I’m awful. I should aspire to be like Alan.” He could barely finish as he broke into soft laughter. He turned back around, inspecting his chopwork so far. It was, even to a layperson, objectively awful. But he had to assume it wouldn’t matter once everything was being cooked down anyway. Funnily enough, he had managed to surpass his own expectations with it. But back to the job he went.

The moment felt right. The music still sauntered through the establishment, as old music usually did. Link thought Bea looked so at peace. His hips daintily swung to and fro, as Link was unaware he was even doing it. This would be the extent at which Bea would be granted access to his dancing. She could take it or leave it.

Link glanced over at Bea only for a moment. When he turned back, she had planted a kiss on his cheek. He wasn’t sure what to do. He more or less went into autopilot. The sounds around him blended together and floated away, including her Bobby Flay comments. The vegetables in front of him went from the fine pieces of which he had cut, to a mass of color before him, interspersed with Bea’s hand reaching in to retrieve his work. His cheeks ran feverishly hot, and tried to maintain composure. But he wasn’t going to fool anybody. Maybe not even Bea. He hadn’t even realized his own toothy grin plastered across his face. He no longer had in interest in suppressing it either.

He came back down to earth just in time to be able to answer her time traveling question. “That stuff exists but essentially no one is allowed to touch it. Bad, bad stuff. Dangerous.” He had heard stories about people playing with time travel magic. It was a recipe for disaster. One that he hoped he would never have to sort out as an auror. Link closely examined her work, as though he was some sort of proctor for a test. “You saw how messy it got in Back to the Future.” He mimicked her motions with the pan as if he would be able to replicate her actions someday. It was unlikely, but sweet of him to hope.

There were plenty of great things about Bea - rapping was perhaps not one of them. “Oh wow. That was really, really good.” He shook his head at her as she concluded, and bent to the drawer with the baking pans. He retrieved a well-worn pan that he presumed would do the job. “This good?” He asked as he handed it over to her, repossessing the salt shaker as a fidget toy. passing it back and forth between his hands. “I’m going to make Ava owe you one favor for this by the way. No more free food for her.” He raised his eyebrows, before finishing, “If you had one favor from Ava, what would you ask for?”

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"Oh, stop it." She lightly hit his upper arm in protest. "I'm sure you get plenty of 'play' or whatever." Slang wasn't exactly Bea's strong suit but she tried her best to be hip... it never really worked out. "You're sweet, you're funny, you're smart, you're good looking. I'm sure witches and girls line up around the block." Secretly she hoped not but she knew better. To her, her dear Lincoln was a catch destined to be somebody else's and despite the forced distant little smile on her features, she felt a big twinge of sadness in her chest. For this reason, she kept her eyes focused on her work which, for right now, included scooping the pan-seared contents into a bowl and layering ricotta and half-cooked veggie with seasonings. "What do they call us again? People like me? Puggles or something?" Close enough, except not really at all. Still, a change of subject would do them her good.

Despite his little dramatics, she remained calm, turning to face him her own arms crossing over her chest. "Don't you dare ever try to be like Alan. Not ever ever." He hadn't been serious of course, but Beatrix, as usual, took things literally. "Always be Linky. Always." And never had she meant anything more in her entire life - and her eyes on his showed it. She didn't know what she would do without Lincoln Watts. There was no one better in her eyes. She couldn't picture life without him and didn't want to even though someday she just might have to. It would ultimately be okay she supposed. She would survive, mainly because she had to, and he deserved to feel so strongly about someone the way she felt about... anyway... moving on.

"That's perfect. My hero. Thank you." She responded, taking the offered pan. Turning back around to admire his cutting work she gave a little smile accompanied by the tiniest little chortle. "Not too shabby." She noted, never turning down an opportunity to encourage him and returned to assembling her concoction. "No really. You did really well. That's what's so great about cooking really. You can combine different cuts by different people and, with a little time, it can turn into one cohesive thing. Like it was always meant to be." She piped up with a toothy grin, nearly running into him while holding the now full pan. Luckily she didn't bump into the taller gentleman and eyes widening she looked away suddenly embarrassed. "It's not like your real magic but it's still kind of neat I think." Was it warm in here or was it just the oven? Speaking of, she hurried over to it and slid in the pan, closing the door. Her back to him, face hidden from view, her brown-eyed gaze darted back and forth trying to find grounding which she eventually claimed by taking a slow inhale. Calm down. It's fine. It's all fine. And if it's not - act like it is.

She made herself walk back to Lincoln's side at the counter, counting each beat of her heart as she did so. She had to say something so it was business as usual but what? "I like watching you dance." She admitted quietly, reckoning it would probably catch him off guard but other than the one ginormous secret that she was hiding she was lousy at keeping others. To emphasize her point she nudged his hips with her own. "You should do it more often." With that, she turned back to the counter and began to clean. Now they just needed to play the waiting game.

"A favor huh?" Unable to resist she reached out taking the salt shaker that he was once again fidgeting with. He always did that when he was nervous she had learned throughout the years. But wouldn't that mean he was nervous now? That didn't make sense. Surely it was something else she convinced herself. "She doesn't have to but I know you'll make her anyways so hm..." Setting down the shaker she tapped her chin thoughtfully racking her brain before she got an idea. A wicked one that had her smiling with pride. "I know!" Hopping up she sat on the edge of the counter her legs dangling as she sat in front of him. "For you two to make me dinner." Really she actually wanted to go to the magical world but Lincoln had been telling her no for years on end. She didn't want to waste her favor on an obvious no. "No help from me either. Both of you." Had that been too bold? Oh well, it was out there now. "Please?"

[Deleted]

Oh, if only she knew. Link was a fairly handsome man, and had some traditionally attractive characteristics working in his favor. He had a strong jawline, stood at 6’1, and made sure to always smell good. But there were plenty of guys out there that took things to another level. Maybe they elevated his strong jawline, into a sharp, polygonal facial feature that could cut glass. Maybe they were 6’5 with swooshy hair, and huge biceps. Link was just.. Link. There were always bigger fish, and he felt as though he certainly wasn’t an apex predator in this little pond. Maybe he had his share of people pining over him, 1 or 2 every other year or so. But it didn’t do anything for him. Never did. Maybe for a little while, they proved a suitable distraction. But inevitably, she eeked back into his psyche. Their laughs, weren’t her laugh. Their mannerisms weren’t her mannerisms. They’re adoration for him, however potent, usually less so, wasn’t her adoration for him. And so it was never good enough. Deflect. “Yea, I take reservations daily. Hourly sometimes. The hottest new attraction in town: Lincoln Watts.” His eyes tried meeting hers in a way to convey that “Come on. What are we doing.”, but he found no respite as she focused on her cooking. “Well I mean you have your own thing goin’ on you know? I mean I’ve seen the guys that fawn over you INCLUDING Alan. Who wouldn’t want someone who can make some one smile just being in the same room as them? Or cook award-winning dishes? And by George, gorgeous to boot.” He shrugged, reflecting for a moment. How long could he go on? Forever.

“Muggles. Honestly, super duper cute name if you ask me. Makes me think of cute little animals. I mean think about it. You could’ve be called snerfendoops. Not nearly as fun.” He leaned closer to inspect her work, as if he were her hellish head chef, thankful at the pivot. Bea was an animated person. Never egregiously so, yet more than expected. It was rare that she was the one to lay down the proverbial law. He was taken aback, though tried not to emote in a way that would clue her into that. It was sweet. Good. At least I’m not Alan, thank Merlin. “Got it. No Alan, only Linky.” Kick rocks Alan. Seeing Bea worked up over a trivial, throwaway comment got Lincoln thinking. Hm. That really bothered her.

Lincoln put on his best Superman pose at her hero comment, superseded by a gracious bow at her approval of his pan du jour. “Thanks! Taking notes - differences are what bring it together. Woah!-” He narrowly missed her and the pan. How cute would that have been. Tough to say. Certainly a romcom element, though Link wouldn’t have felt great about it. After confirming that there was no spillage, it was his turn to be stern with her again, after she placed the pan into the oven. He took a small step towards her, tapping her on her shoulder. “Hey. Stop saying stuff like that. What you do IS real magic. It’s magic to me anyway. You do incredible shit, every day. Better than anyone I know. Different takes, twists, your own personal spin on everything, and it’s amazing! Meanwhile, a million people can perform the exact same spells I can. Where’s the magic in that?” He didn’t even bother mentioning the plethora of other things that contributed to her individuality - what made her Bea. He breathed heavily through his nose, and shook his head placidly. “Oh Bea.” The salt shaker transfer between Link’s hands quickened.

Link snorted heartily when she complimented his dancing. “I think my mom literally grounded me once because of how bad I am at dancing. It’s not pretty. Maybe it’s funny, though.” He broke out into a short-lived twist, Bea snatching the salt shaker midway through. How the hell does she keep doing that? “Yea, a favor.” Oh yes she does. She owes you. As do I. He examined her as she vaulted onto the counter in front of her, ignorant of the debilitating request she was ready to share. “Dinner? From Ava and I?” He could see the arguments now. Did you put paprika in this, or cumin? You idiot. Why can’t we just use magic to do this, she won’t know the difference. Can you do the rest? My hands are tired. Link’s own personal horror story. Yet, with zero hesitation, his reply was a resounding “Consider it done. We’ll conjure up something incredible. Well not literally. We’re not gonna’ conjure anything. We’re actually gonna’ cook it with our hands, and oven and whatnot. Cause that’d be cheating.” It’d be so much easier. But he knew what Bea wanted. And he would oblige. “Any preferences as to the cuisine?”

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"Mister Popular over here." Against her better judgment she encouraged his little showcase of machismo, whether meant or not, reaching up to take his shoulder in her right hand giving him a little shake. As much as she wanted to maintain the contact, she withdrew her hand and her gaze from him. Best not to dwell... She had been dwelling for over two decades at this point. That was more than enough time, wasn't it?

"Nobody fawns over me. I think that you need your eyes checked." At his layer upon layer of a compliment she blushed, this time unable to hide it as basically her whole face turned red. "No. My life is here." She had honestly given up all hope in that department. She was too talkative, too loud, too focused on her job, too quirky... Marriage just wasn't in the cards for her. Her terrible choice in men had taught her that much. "I'm married to my job. If I want to save up enough to open my own place before I turn a hundred I need to work all of the hours that I can." Giving away free food probably should stop but she wasn't going to do that anyhow. Besides, the man that she wanted didn't want her and you couldn't fight free will, could you?

Her nose crinkled at the phrase 'snerfendoop' hit her ears. He had a point. He always did at the end of the day. "I think I prefer muggles." Another small smile pulled at the corners of her lips. Gosh, she always smiled so much with him. It was when he was out with someone else that the brightness turned into tears. But that wasn't tonight, was it? Tonight it was just the two of them cooking together, then a walk, a movie... then home. When he accepted that he would always stay Lincoln Watts she gave a single firm nod as if that solved the matter. "Good." The Dynamite Duo once and forever (or for as long as he would humor her).

"That's nice to say but it's really not." She shrugged, sitting on the edge of the counter in front of him looking up. "Not like you or Ava or Allen... One time Ava cleaned my whole kitchen in two seconds with just a few words." She sighed, feeling a bit left out. Like they were all invited to a birthday party and she was the only one not to receive an invitation. "Allen, I mean your Allen, once transformed my small perch for luncheon into enough for six luncheons by just saying Goergio or Eorgio or something. It's not fair." The woman pouted a bit looking down at the two now empty cutting boards. "Dicing and slicing isn't really the same, Linky. Not at all." Sadly she looked back up at him. As much as he tried to make her feel better it was difficult to change her mind when she had it set on something. The magic world was something she had never seen, she had only a few glimpses at spellcasting, it was never not amazing.

"Yeah. Well, I happen to like your dancing." Beatrix grinned watching him do a very short, but extremely endearing little jig. She couldn't let him get away with that much self-deprecation in one day. Somedays she swore he clung to it like a life raft. His eyes showing a bit of surprise and betrayal at her snatching of the salt shaker she was quick to give him something else to do with his idle and antsy hands. Reaching to the side she handed him a garbage bag with a knowing look, nodding to the skins of some vegetables that they had peeled.

"Truly? You'll do it?" There was no hiding the excitement in her voice (and she didn't even try to anyways). "No magic. Just by yourselves. Just Lincoln and Ava. Cooking." Her eyes were wide and eager. She just had to see this. "Oh... Um..." She didn't want to overwhelm him with anything difficult, she had quite the experience little pallet but something simple for Lincoln and his sister was probably best. Even if just to keep Ava from being too furious. "Maybe a roasted chicken? Some sides? Carrots and mashed potatoes with garlic and Brussel sprouts and-" Her hands moved to cover her mouth, stopping her rambling. "Or you can just pick something and surprise me." She settled on sheepishly, a blush once again finding its way to her cheeks.

[Deleted]

Despite being a factual man, often based in reason, he frequently forgot that Bea saw the world very differently from the way he did. Whether willful or otherwise, he wished he could show her what he saw. But that wouldn’t be Bea. She didn’t notice the things he noticed. The looks she got, the niceties she received. The unsolicited unanswered messages of eligible (though certainly of a varying degree of quality) bachelors resting in her inboxes. Part of it sickened Link. Most of them didn’t care about her, not really. Perhaps about one thing, certainly. But they didn’t care about her hopes and dreams, her obstacles in life, or anything else that she was composed of. On the other hand, someone in that pile has to be a catch. That was simple math. Closed mouths don't get fed..yet the nail that sticks up gets the hammer. Ugh. His face transitioned into a pensive one. He was thinking too much again.

He was able to catch for a moment her reddening face, his own matching in short order. Though it wasn’t meant to last. Being married to one’s job is a common sentiment. He’s worked with plenty of aurors who shared that same vision. If ever there was a nail in the coffin to someone's ambitions of being with somebody, that sentence was it. He knew she wanted to open her own restaurant. He even posited that he would help her open it, at least fiscally. He stood erect, tense, and rigid, having been enlightened to her marriage. “Well, yea. I get that I mean.. opening a restaurant is expensive as hell.” He tried turning from her, though as if magnetized, spun back around, looking quizzically at his friend. “I mean..we could always find you a new job too? I mean this place..” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence. He felt she knew what he was saying. “If you’re going to have to work your ass off, it might as well be somewhere where you’re appreciated, you know?” A valid point - but her inability to see the real truth often trapped her in these situations. He doubted she would bite at this, but she’s surprised him before.

Link’s shoulders slumped forward at the examples of magical displays she’s experienced. He tried refraining from any magical gestures as often as possible. Mostly because he knew how enthralled she was with the entire prospect of magic. And he also felt as though she viewed herself as less than because of it. He silently cursed Ava and Allen for being obtuse in this regard. Clearly, they’ve left impressions on Bea. He wouldn’t be able to change her mind on this. Not tonight. “Magic is neat. I’m just saying.. what you do is neat too. Can we agree on that?” Perhaps a compromise they could both be satisfied with.

He took the garbage bag reluctantly, having been desalted. He sidestepped in front of the vegetable skins and transferred them into the bag. “Yea well we’ll have to go dancing sometime.” Why not now? She seemed to like everything Link did. He figured she was being nice. But knowing Bea, there was a distinct possibility she meant every word. He tied the garbage bag, throwing it over his left shoulder before responding to her cooking proposal. “Of course, we’ll do it. Got it, just cooking.” He loved how she didn’t stay down for long - her excitement was mirrored but his own. “I like the option. It’ll either be that, or something completely out of left field, so stay tuned.” He made a quick mental note before turning 90 degrees, intent on determining where he should toss his bag of vegetable skins, when Smoke Gets In Your Eyes rattled to life in the restaurant. He promptly dropped his bag of discarded foodstuffs behind him, rotating, and quite nervously facing Bea. “I know it’s random but..may I have this dance? I’ll pick up the skins after I promise.” He offered his right hand, a courteous bow accompanied. He could feel small beads of sweat forming on his temples, his heart thundering in his chest. If she didn’t take it soon, his hand would soon follow with sweat.

Let's go with, closed mouths don’t get fed.

Song du Jour: Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

[BEATRIX KIDDO]

"A new job?" She cocked her head at him innocently like a cocker spaniel might having heard a sound they had never heard before. Her nose scrunched up and she shook her head. "Oh no. I can't do that. Where would I go?" Oblivious Bea... Not knowing the immense talent that she possessed in the kitchen and aiming far too low. She always so loudly championed others that she so often forgot to do the same for herself. Luckily she had someone like Lincoln in her life to fill in.

Uncomfortable by the thought she slid off of the counter and back to the flats of her feet, smoothing out her attire and avoiding Lincoln's now far too serious and concerned gaze. "I work here." But what was that plan? Forever? Please god, no. She couldn't take being berated and belittled on an almost daily basis and for what? For someone else whose name was on the building to take the glory? Dang her need to never want to ruffle any feathers or rock someone's boat. But what of her own ship?

"It looks good on a resume and, uh, it's not so bad. Alejandro is a jerk but not all of the time just a lot of the time. If he was awful all of the time he would be exhausted. I'm sure as heck tired of dealing with it and... what was I talking about again?" She looked up at Lincoln with sad, depleted in strength eyes that were so unlike her. A momentary slip in the veil and where Bea could momentarily admit things were tough. Paying rent was a battle, showing up every day with a big smile was even harder when you knew it would fall in deaf ears a lot of the time. The city was great but it could also kick the pee right out of you if you weren't careful - even with someone as optimistic as Beatrix Kiddo.

"I don't always not like it." She settled on, wiping her hands briskly on the apron tied around her petite waist. "Like right now for example. Right now is pretty ok." Standing there, looking up at him, her signature smile was back though smaller than before. In spite of herself she glanced back at the floor and the black flats that she wore with pink bows, shifting a bit. "I might agree that what I do is neat if, oh, I dunno... Maybe I had something to compare it too. Like, say if I saw the magical world once..." Not leaving him room to argue otherwise she stepped right up to his toes. "Oh c'mon, Linky. Please, please, please!" This was their same little song and dance. He would decline and she would just ask him again the next night. It had been that way since they were kids.

The opening chords of Smoke Gets in Your Eyes had her piping down and she looked sadly back to the floor, that is until Lincoln made an offer that she couldn't quite believe. So simple and inconsequential to most and yet to her it meant the world. Lincoln didn't dance for just anyone (or anybody that matter) and here he was offering to dance with her. Even if it was just to distract her she was thrilled.

Her brown eyes moved to his offered hand, holding back a giggle at his silly little bow, sucking in her cheeks in momentary thought before coming to a decision that she knew she would make the whole time. "Yes you may." Beaming from ear to ear she reached out her own hand, taking his and stepping close to him but only after curtsying with her apron. Back and forth they swayed to the slow song, her hands initially on his back and in his hand (more like a waltz than anything else) before deciding to take a bit of control (someone would need to as Lincoln's dance experience was limited) and gently she brought each of his hands to her hips, placing them before she reached up and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.

"You should have signed up for ballet classes with me." She joked fondly referring to a time as youngin's where she was determined to become a ballerina for all of three months before she was onto the next thing (mainly because all of the rich girls made fun of her 'the dirt poor military brat'). "The Platters, right?"