sans exceptions } { 32. obsequious
Nov. 2nd, 2011 08:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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and_dontgetcute and thentheres_me are used with permission and love.]
“Your sister totally wants me.”
Flack gave him a look like he’s completely delusional, but Darren ignored it. He was slumped against the slab of cement wedged between the oven and dishwasher, just rambling at Flack like he did every other day since they both had started working there. Flack was the kind of guy where it was really hard not to get along with him, even on his worst day, and that, in Darren’s mind, made him a friend worth having. Especially considering most of his male friends wanted to punch him by the end of his best days.
But that’s not the point here.
The point was that Flack was giving him a look like he had just said he saw pigs fly, and Darren was choosing not to let it phase him.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Nope,” he said with a nod as took another sip of his beer, letting his friend clean off the grill. “She is so into me, she comes by here to argue with your sorry ass just to see me.”
“You are an idiot,” Flack said plainly, running the scraper against the grease until he saw stainless steal. “Did you ever think that she comes by to argue with my sorry ass because she’s my sister, and has this compulsive need to track my every move?”
Darren considered that for all of a second before he shook his head. “Nope. That is definitely not it.”
“So you’re psychic now?”
“I just happen to be really good at reading people, that’s all.”
“You call delusions of my sister’s attraction to you ‘reading people’? You might need more help than I thought.”
“Oh, now hold on a minute—tell me I’m wrong.” He pushed up from the slab, using his fingers to tip off the points as he made them. “She comes in here almost every day. She spends more of the time talking to me than she does talking to you—”
“That’s because she and I usually wind up getting into a fight about something, and talking to you is her best bet at not making the scene. Never mind that you’re the bar tender and anyone who wants to talk to the rest of the staff has to talk to you first.”
“Don’t use your cop family logic on me. I didn’t get to my point yet.”
“Then please, by all means. Make your point.”
“My point is that I know family. I have family. Family doesn’t spend this much time with their own unless there’s something else they want—”
“And you think this something just happens to be you?”
Darren held out his hands at his sides, before turning around. “Just look at me, dude. What self-respecting lady would say no?”
“All of them. They have self respect.”
Flack looked entirely too pleased at himself for that one. Darren glared back at him, and probably would have had choice words at that if there hadn’t been a familiar jingle to the bar door. Instead, he whipped the dishcloth on his waist at the other man’s back, before making his way back into the bar. “You know I’m right, dude. Just wait.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
If Darren hadn’t been practically exhausted from working an eight hour shift, he might have considered the fact that Flack knew his sister a bit better than Darren did, but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to do his job and go home to go to bed. He perked up considerably when he saw who was coming through the door, still dressed in her suit fresh from work.
“Samantha,” he said with a grin. “Speak of the devil—Flack and I were just talking about you.”
“Do I want to know?” she asked with a bit of an eyebrow raise, and he smirked.
“Nah, just the usual. Can I get you a beer?”
“Just a Coke, if you have it. I’m still on the job.”
“No problem.” He poured her a quick glass of the soda, before placing it down in front of her. “What brings you by?”
“Donnie’s car’s in the shop, and I told him I’d stop by to give him a ride.” She paused to take a sip of the soda, before looking up at him again. “I know I’m a little early, but I was wonderin’ if you wouldn’t mind closing up on your own. I gotta get back to the office.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Big case,” she said with a shrug. “We may need to sleep, but that doesn’t mean crime does.”
“Fair enough,” he said, running the end of his dish rag down the bar, before a realization hit him. “One condition.”
She looked up at him, confused. “If you’re putting conditions on me taking my brother home, I think I should be worried.”
“It’s not a big one,” he said with a wave of his hand, before resting his elbows on the bar in front of her. “See, Don seems to think that I would not stand a chance in hell if I asked you out.”
“Really?” she said, her head tipping to the side as she took another sip of the soda. “Don does know me pretty well.”
“He does. And he knows me pretty well, which is why most of the time I give him the benefit of the doubt, but this time, he doesn’t know my secret weapon.” Her eyebrows went up, and he just smirked. “Coffee.”
The moment he said it, the look on her face changed instantly. She straightened on the barstool a bit, looking genuinely surprised. “Like—real coffee?”
“Fresh ground Columbian beans,” he said with a nod. “The good stuff.” He can read the want in her eyes from a mile away—that’s what happens when you have the good kind of contraband—and he gave her a grin. “So, I guess what I’m asking, Samantha Flack—do you want to have coffee with me?”
She didn’t respond right away, just studying him with wary eyes, and before she could say anything, Flack appeared from the back of the bar. “Hey, Sam. Let me just grab my coat.”
She nodded back at her brother, before saying, in a low voice to Darren. “Let me think about it?”
“Sure,” he said with a grin as her brother came back into the room.
“Think about what?”
“Nothing,” Samantha replied, sliding off the stool. “Ready to go?”
“Yep,” he sighed, before turning back to Darren. “Thanks for locking up.”
“No problem. You two have a good night.”
He watched as they walked out the door, before letting a giant grin cross his face. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was a step in the right direction.
1139 words
one_smallchoice. and_dontgetcute and thentheres_me are used with permission and love.]“Your sister totally wants me.”
Flack gave him a look like he’s completely delusional, but Darren ignored it. He was slumped against the slab of cement wedged between the oven and dishwasher, just rambling at Flack like he did every other day since they both had started working there. Flack was the kind of guy where it was really hard not to get along with him, even on his worst day, and that, in Darren’s mind, made him a friend worth having. Especially considering most of his male friends wanted to punch him by the end of his best days.
But that’s not the point here.
The point was that Flack was giving him a look like he had just said he saw pigs fly, and Darren was choosing not to let it phase him.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Nope,” he said with a nod as took another sip of his beer, letting his friend clean off the grill. “She is so into me, she comes by here to argue with your sorry ass just to see me.”
“You are an idiot,” Flack said plainly, running the scraper against the grease until he saw stainless steal. “Did you ever think that she comes by to argue with my sorry ass because she’s my sister, and has this compulsive need to track my every move?”
Darren considered that for all of a second before he shook his head. “Nope. That is definitely not it.”
“So you’re psychic now?”
“I just happen to be really good at reading people, that’s all.”
“You call delusions of my sister’s attraction to you ‘reading people’? You might need more help than I thought.”
“Oh, now hold on a minute—tell me I’m wrong.” He pushed up from the slab, using his fingers to tip off the points as he made them. “She comes in here almost every day. She spends more of the time talking to me than she does talking to you—”
“That’s because she and I usually wind up getting into a fight about something, and talking to you is her best bet at not making the scene. Never mind that you’re the bar tender and anyone who wants to talk to the rest of the staff has to talk to you first.”
“Don’t use your cop family logic on me. I didn’t get to my point yet.”
“Then please, by all means. Make your point.”
“My point is that I know family. I have family. Family doesn’t spend this much time with their own unless there’s something else they want—”
“And you think this something just happens to be you?”
Darren held out his hands at his sides, before turning around. “Just look at me, dude. What self-respecting lady would say no?”
“All of them. They have self respect.”
Flack looked entirely too pleased at himself for that one. Darren glared back at him, and probably would have had choice words at that if there hadn’t been a familiar jingle to the bar door. Instead, he whipped the dishcloth on his waist at the other man’s back, before making his way back into the bar. “You know I’m right, dude. Just wait.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
If Darren hadn’t been practically exhausted from working an eight hour shift, he might have considered the fact that Flack knew his sister a bit better than Darren did, but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to do his job and go home to go to bed. He perked up considerably when he saw who was coming through the door, still dressed in her suit fresh from work.
“Samantha,” he said with a grin. “Speak of the devil—Flack and I were just talking about you.”
“Do I want to know?” she asked with a bit of an eyebrow raise, and he smirked.
“Nah, just the usual. Can I get you a beer?”
“Just a Coke, if you have it. I’m still on the job.”
“No problem.” He poured her a quick glass of the soda, before placing it down in front of her. “What brings you by?”
“Donnie’s car’s in the shop, and I told him I’d stop by to give him a ride.” She paused to take a sip of the soda, before looking up at him again. “I know I’m a little early, but I was wonderin’ if you wouldn’t mind closing up on your own. I gotta get back to the office.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Big case,” she said with a shrug. “We may need to sleep, but that doesn’t mean crime does.”
“Fair enough,” he said, running the end of his dish rag down the bar, before a realization hit him. “One condition.”
She looked up at him, confused. “If you’re putting conditions on me taking my brother home, I think I should be worried.”
“It’s not a big one,” he said with a wave of his hand, before resting his elbows on the bar in front of her. “See, Don seems to think that I would not stand a chance in hell if I asked you out.”
“Really?” she said, her head tipping to the side as she took another sip of the soda. “Don does know me pretty well.”
“He does. And he knows me pretty well, which is why most of the time I give him the benefit of the doubt, but this time, he doesn’t know my secret weapon.” Her eyebrows went up, and he just smirked. “Coffee.”
The moment he said it, the look on her face changed instantly. She straightened on the barstool a bit, looking genuinely surprised. “Like—real coffee?”
“Fresh ground Columbian beans,” he said with a nod. “The good stuff.” He can read the want in her eyes from a mile away—that’s what happens when you have the good kind of contraband—and he gave her a grin. “So, I guess what I’m asking, Samantha Flack—do you want to have coffee with me?”
She didn’t respond right away, just studying him with wary eyes, and before she could say anything, Flack appeared from the back of the bar. “Hey, Sam. Let me just grab my coat.”
She nodded back at her brother, before saying, in a low voice to Darren. “Let me think about it?”
“Sure,” he said with a grin as her brother came back into the room.
“Think about what?”
“Nothing,” Samantha replied, sliding off the stool. “Ready to go?”
“Yep,” he sighed, before turning back to Darren. “Thanks for locking up.”
“No problem. You two have a good night.”
He watched as they walked out the door, before letting a giant grin cross his face. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was a step in the right direction.
1139 words
