First dates {Tempy}

With the knowledge that this would be the first official date, and that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, Harper had dressed carefully. Her makeup was casual so that her features were only amplified rather than hidden and her hair was in a loose elegant bun held with a jeweled dragonfly. A few curls framed her face and she wore a white skirt and a patel lavender blouse. There was nothing graceful about her crutches or the one sandal she wore.

She waited by the fountain in the square where they had agreed to meet, but waiting for him was making her nervous, which was as I'm Harper as she could get. Maybe it would have been better if the had walked in together, but she had wanted Wes to be the one to fidget. She sat on the edge of the fountain and gazed idly pout at the broken yoke of sunlight. It was getting darker earliwr and she thought about the jacket she should have brought with her.

Harper's stomach turned. What if it for cold tonight and Wes had a jacket and offered it to her? Would the chivalry absolutely undo her? Did she still see Wes as a play thing to examine, or was there something more more? Could her wicked heart allow such a thing?

Wes bounded through the streets, trying to figure out how late he was without the use of a watch. He had woken up fifteen minutes prior and the subsequent panic had fueled the sprint to the town. His moss-green eyes darted around the shop fronts, meeting the concerned glances of strangers. One woman stopped him to ask if he was ok. Wes shook his head and tried to control his panting.

It was stupid to put so much strain on his system so close to November, but Harper was worth it. He jogged as much as he could, but arrived in the square in a quickish walk. Luckily, most of the bracken had fallen off his person during the trip.

He wore blue jeans, a red flannel shirt, work boots, and a weatherbeaten leather jacket. The latter article of clothing was something he tried not to think too much about.

He spotted Harper and smiled, the sudden change in countenance insufficient to draw attention away from the pallor of his features. He strode up to the girl and said apologetically, "Sorry to make you wait, Harper. You look great. Ready for the movie?" He ran his hand through his leaf-free hair, dislodging a small twig and some bark. He would have to remember not to sleep in a tree right before a date next time.

Wes looked adorable to her, but something wasn't quite right about his clothes. It wasn't the empty sleeve hanging limply off what was left of his atm, though it did take her some getting used to, but rather like he was borrowing clothes that weren't his. "You look great too, but what happened to the leaves in your hair?"

She was more than slightly disappointed that she missed out on examining those fascinating bits of him. Harper continued to smile deeply and shifted the pads on her crutches. She had added lace to them so they would look cleaner for their date. "Lead the way!" She added, throwing her hair back over one slightly exposed shoulder.

Wes smiled awkwardly and replied off-handedly, "It's almost wintertime, I guess." He hoped she wouldn't ask any probing questions. Harper was smart, probably smart enough to see through any direct lies at this point in their acquaintanceship.

Somehow, beneath all of the late-season weariness, he couldn't help but speculate about what was beneath Harper's demure outfit. He remembered her swimsuited body and tried not to blush at the subsequent imaginings. Being what he was made inter-gender interaction as awkward as all-get-out.

He eased into a more relaxed attitude as he began walking slowly in the direction of the movie theater. Since it was so late in the season, and so cool outside, he'd opted for an indoor venue. The theater was old- a relic made cozy by it's small size and tendency to play old movies rather than new ones. He was not sure what was being played, but it didn't matter. He was not sure he'd pay any attention to the screen anyhow.

"How is your leg? Let me know if you need any help or anything like that." He tried not to think of her legs. Damn. Difficult.

"Oh...." said Harper in response to Wes' reasoning for the lack of leaves. That was strange. She wondered vaguely if he hibernated, but his reaction to the first question told Harper it would bee rude to ask.

She turned her attention to the old theatre and dismissed his question with a wave of her elegant hand. "It's fine," she didn't feel right complaining about aches when Wes was completely without. "This place is absolutely beautiful!" She shifted the boatish padding under her arms and shivered slightly now wanting a jacket and hoping the inside of the building was warm. Old places always tended to be drafty even with heating.

"So.....what's the plan? Looks like it's monster movie night. Are you into the phantom, the wolfman or king of the lizards?"

Wes paused in his approach to the ticket booth, turning just in time to see his date shiver. He might have some plantish tendencies, but his manners were still intact. He swung off his leather jacket and gently wrapped it around Harper's shoulders. He'd gotten a friend to pin his left shirtsleeve up securely so that it wouldn't flap about too much. Sam had been careful not to stare, something that caused Wes to respect him all the more.

He was pleased that Harper liked the venue. The theater was another one of those treasure-type places that seemed to be dotted all over town. Point for Wes. Hopefully, when the score was tallied, he might get a prize. Once again, he cursed himself for letting his thoughts stray to things that weren't appropriate (yet.)

God, I'm glad she's not a mind-reader. I would have been slapped a couple times by now.

He chuckled at her question and replied without missing a beat, "Well, now that you ask, I do sort of have the hots for Godzilla. Those scales, that masterful gaze just.... mmmm..." He gave Harper a sidelong look, just to make it clear that he was joking.

Meanwhile, the teenager operating the booth seemed to be at a loss for how to evaluate the two. Wes was very aware of how they looked, particularly how Harper looked. He wondered if the boy was staring due to their... errr... deficiencies, or because Harper was so damn attractive.

Lowering her voice dramatically, Harper said, "Godzirra....godzirra..." then putting it back to normal added, "thanks for your jacket. I was dumb to forget mine." She pulled the collar close around her neck and straightened herself. Just because she was showing off her cleavage to Wes, that didn't mean anyone else could have a peak. Giving the box office attendee a hard stare, Harper ordered two tickets to the next showing of King of the Lizards.

She watched him count out the change, giving him a glare that said quite plainly, 'I will rip out your entrails and read your fortune while you die if you don't quit looking.'

Her harsh eyes weren't just for the sake of her breasts, but for Wes' arm as well. When she turned back to her date, Harper was Betty Davis eyed and sweetly smiling. "I bought the show, you can buy me goobers, okay?" She slipped his ticket into his hand wishing she could hold it for longer than a minute.

"Wes opened his mouth to protest her purchase of the tickets- he was prepared to pay since he'd asked her out. However, he decided that he'd buy her the biggest fucking box of goobers he could find. Or wait- would that somehow insult her? A moment later, he disentangled himself from the mental calculation involved in impressing a chick. Briefly, he wondered why the teen at the ticket counter suddenly seemed so interested in his shoes.

As for the money required to buy said goobers? Well, he'd taken a page out of the Sapphire bully's handbook and had gotten himself a part-time job. Sure, it didn't pay much, but he wasn't doing a whole lot and he was able to do his work at night and on his own terms. And, aside from the original interview, his employers were disinclined to ask too many probing questions.

He led the way inside and said gallantly, "Would my lady care for a drink to go with her goobers?" His hand tingled where she'd touched it and he was a little worried that he would be unbearably absent-minded and goofy the entire evening. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to tone his smile down a little bit. An older couple passed by them on the way to the concessions stand and he shifted uncomfortably when the lady smiled grandmotherly at them.

"Only if the gentleman would like to share," Harper said with a coy grin. She didn't mind the older couple and brushed Wes' hand. She didn't want him to feel awkward or unworthy around her. For some reason, Wes made her feel good. For once she didn't feel the need to wrap him around her middle finger. Her thoughts were not so wicked around him. In fact, Harper had not known the word could so easily applied to her until Wes came into her life.

She hitched up the crutches securely under her arms and led the way to the concession stand. "So...what do you want?" She asked. It was much warmer now that they were inside, but she didn't relinquish the coat. Old buildings tended to be warm in one room and drafty in the next.

Wes grinned back at Harper before leaning on the counter and telling the concessions chick, "We'll take your biggest pack of goobers and a large 7-Up, please." He hoped he was coming off as gallant rather than like a presumptive asshole who couldn't guess what kind of drink a lady might like to share.

The girl behind the counter was nice enough to keep her eyes above neck-level. Wes reached into a back pocket and pulled out a billfold. When the girl put a box of goobers and the drink on the counter, he was prepared and handed her a bill. He dropped his change into a tip jar (he didn't like to jingle and material wealth didn't mean enough to him to make saving coins necessary.)

Wes nodded in the direction of their theater and led the way, holding the door open for Harper. Despite their injuries, he felt normal for the first time in a long time. This was a simple date between a guy and a girl, no need to bring their Gifts into it. No need to dwell on the end of the season, either.

He bet Harper smelled as nice as she looked. He wondered if she would let him get away with the yawn-stretch-place arm over shoulders move. Of course, that would only work if she sat on his left. He would have to remember to seat himself accordingly. "Where shall we sit?"[/size]

It would have been so lovely to hold onto his arm, but Harper had to make due with a coy grin and an extra swing of her hips as she crutched her way through the door. "Lets sit close...save me the embarrassment of the climb." She led the way up the first few steps then shuffled to the center of a row and sat with a firm determination before sliding her crutches under her seat.

Was she being too domineering? The question occurred to her suddenly. Harper was quite used to taking charge of things. On the other hand, Wes was very formal and traditional in his way, and might be offended by her treatment. It would be nice for someone to take charge for a change. "I mean...are you okay with this?" Harper pushed herself forward in her seat, showing that she was willing to move if that was what Wes wanted.

Wes smiled, somewhat grateful not to have to make a climb or a decision. He dutifully followed Harper and sat next to her. The theater was cool, but he had encountered worse conditions before. Besides, his skin felt mite too warm and his clothes felt a mite too constricting. He leaned away from Harper, just to prevent himself from giving in to temptation.

He responded to her finally by saying, "This is perfect." He positioned the drink in the cupholder between them, and froze in the act of peeling the paper off the straw when an odd feeling overtook him. A moment later, he shook off the foreboding and grinned lopsidedly at his date. "This is nice. No chance of being attacked by critters in here." He made a show of nervousness and added, " Crud. Just jinxed us. Sorry, Harper."

In only a few seconds, his face had lost its remaining color. His eyes burned a vivid forest green, though. It was reminiscent of the color of sun-filtered canopy, complete with specks of light specks shining out from his irises. "Don't worry about any giant lizards. I'll protect you," he assured her in a semi-joking manner, completely unaware of the change in his appearance.

"Oh good, I was sure I felt something moving under our seats just now," Harper said in a tone that made it clear he should not feel subconscious about himself. She had seen his face pale but as he was ignoring it, she would to. It seemed Wes was having a difficult time, and she wished it wasn't so. Though the suddenness of change in colour must mean that he was very uncomfortable. Did he have low blood sugar?

Harper offered Wes her goobers. "wow, I didn't know your eyes could change colour...or is it the light?" She smiled. "They look cool." The house lights began to dim for the previews and she stretched out her leg. Still offering the candy with one hand, she looped her free hand though Wes' arm.

Wes replied blankly, "They change color?" Clearly, he hadn't noticed. He briefly turned away from Harper to glance over an advertisement for the concessions stand, complete with dancing hotdog and soda cup. Wes momentarily contemplated the existence of gifted inanimate objects. The train of thought halted and he turned his bright gaze back to Harper. He was glad he had sat on her right, so his remaining arm was there for her use.

At that moment, a couple gentlemen entered the theater. They were dressed professionally, thin black ties and trench coats lending them an air of cold authority. The first held a flashlight, the second a newspaper and a manila envelope. They walked up the aisles, occasionally shining the light in the eyes of an unwary moviegoer. They stopped when the beam fell onto Wes's face, causing him to blink and flinch away from the light.

"Caleb Swift?" The first one asked, adding, "a.k.a. Gavin Underhill? Perhaps you have a different handle these days? We need you to come with us."

Wes was already on high alert and entirely unwilling to go anywhere with a stranger, but he didn't want anymore coming out in front of Harper. He responded with, "Excuse me, Ms. Harper. I'll go see what these guys want and come right back."

The second shook his head. "This will probably take a while. Miss, is he your ride home? If so, we can drop you off before we have our chat with him." He made a grab for Wes's arm and gave them a look of surprise when he came up with nothing but cloth. "What the...?"

Wes leaned into Harper, kissed her on the mouth and whispered, "Story, but it looks lime my time is short. Thanks for everything, lovely. Don't let these guys grab you, okay?"

It came as a slight surprise when to her when she slapped Wes, and his kiss, away. "I don't think so," she said boldly to the man who had attempted to grab Wes. Harper stood, ignoring the hides from the onlookers in the rows behind. "I don't care who you are! You don't just go around snatching people!"

Harper prodded the other man in the chest with a manicured and threatening finger. "And I will not be riding home with strangers! Just who do you think you are anyway? The Blues Brothers?" Her eyes were burning a hole through the men now. Oh if only she had the stuff to turn them into sea cucumbers now! "Wes, you do not have to go with...with whoever they are! AND DON'T SHUSH ME!" She added rounded on the old lady who had told her to be quiet.