Somewhere on the Mainland; Sunday Early Evening

[totalwildcard]

You asked Harley, it was a pretty good Sunday, so far.

She'd started out her day with no plan, and yet by happy accident (and it was definitely an accident, and not someone somewhere making room in a shared schedule to facilitate things, or anything deliberate on the part of anyone directly involved!) she'd run into Marc, and that had sparked a simple and easy plan after all: to drive him to the mainland for dinner, at a restaurant she'd overheard someone talking about on one of her off-island jaunts earlier in the week. It was supposed to be a family-run, no-nonsense little Italian place, and exactly the sort of thing Harley was in the mood for, especially right now with the company she had.

So life was indeed pretty good!

And Harley's mood wasn't soured even by finding out there was actually no parking available right by the restaurant. After some searching, she'd managed to find a spot some blocks away - which was to say, she'd sniped it from right under someone's nose with a truly reckless move. Which had led to some blaring horns from other cars. Which was all good in Harley's book! She had more important things to be thinking about, anyway!

"And the tiramisu's supposed to be amazing," she was saying, as they got out of the car. "Like, 'someone's 97-year-old tiny little Italian grandma made it' kind of amazing. D'you think they'd let me order that for an app and not just dessert?"

(NFB for distance, for the one modded with permission + some NPCs)

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"Guessing this is you?" Marc asked, indicating the picture. The degree was easy enough to figure out.

[totalwildcard]

Harley set the forks down on the coffee table and nodded. "Yeah," she said, just a hint of a drawl to her tone, "with a couple of the St. Assholes of St. Bernadette's."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc came over and put the bags on the table as well. His eyebrow quirked at the St Assholes part. "Guessing that's why me being Jewish wasn't a dealbreaker."

[totalwildcard]

"What, 'cause I got dumped with a buncha nuns when I was a kid, that coulda been a problem?" Harley asked, her face immediately scrunching up with the question, before an 'as if' scoff. "Please, I still grew up in Bensonhurst and Canarsie, so for a shiksa I know a thing or two."

Also there was the big question mark of half her family background which may or may not have contradicted something she'd just said but, uh. They didn't need to get into that.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc sat down on the couch. He looked at her curiously. "Dumped?"

[totalwildcard]

There was something a little vicious about Harley's smile, just there.

"It's what ya do with the kids you don't want," she said, like it was nothing, as she opened one of the bags to peer inside.

[hasaknightjob]

There was a flicker of something over Marc's face at that, but it was quickly erased and replaced by him looking into the bags as well.

[totalwildcard]

Yeah, there was a reason Harley had purposefully never prodded at his early life (or shared any of her own, not that that had ever come up before this moment, anyway). And that flicker kind of confirmed she was right to.

She made a vague hummy noise, like she could just glide right away from the topic using that as the segue. And maybe she could! "Did you get salmon?" she asked, looking into a container. "Because if ya did, this looks like yours."

[hasaknightjob]

"Yeah," Marc said, accepting both the food and the topic change. "You can have some if you want."

[totalwildcard]

Harley was handing him a fork, too, so clearly it was his lucky day.

"We'll see." She dug out what had to be her thing of creamy pasta and grabbed the other fork for herself before also plopping herself down onto the couch, next to him, with a faint 'oof' of a noise.

[hasaknightjob]

Absolutely no shock that Marc wasn't a slouching on the couch kind of person. He sat forward, back not rigid but still straight, as he balanced his plastic tray in one hand and fork in the other. Very much like a guy who was used to eating in situations where normal tables and chairs weren't an option.

Marc glanced back at the frames, then hazarded a guess.

"Scholarship?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley slouched like someone who was used to eating on the couch specifically, the tray nestled in her lap.

She glanced over, then nodded. "Gymnastics," she said, reaching out to grab the soda from one of the bags. "Full ride, 'cause of that and the grades."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc nodded as this confirmed something he'd suspected. "Good for you."

[totalwildcard]

Harley shrugged, and quirked a wry little smile.

"Worked out okay, I s'pose," she said, as she used the edge of the coffee table to uncap the bottle, "least for a while."

Before she took a sharp turn into crazy.

[hasaknightjob]

"They kick you off?" Marc asked, because he was assuming she meant during college.

[totalwildcard]

"Hmh? Oh, no." Harley shook her head. "No, I got through college just fine." She paused, though only barely, then added, "Like a nerd, but you can't tell Steven I said that."

Mostly joking. She was just easing back towards being a little more lively.

[hasaknightjob]

That was all right. Parts of Marc still needed to find their equilibrium too. He was having a harder time of it than usual, but he was trying.

"You know he likes nerds, right?"

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah," Harley replied, around a mouthful of pasta, "but I'm not one."

Anymore.

"Don't want him to get the wrong idea!"

[hasaknightjob]

"He's gonna like you anyway," Marc said. He had a forkful of his salmon with the risotto it came with. "You're stuck on that end. Unless you piss him off."

[totalwildcard]

"What pisses Steven off, anyway?"

It was a genuine question, though not in a way like Harley didn't think it could be done, or anything. In fact, she knew it could be.

And had a guess or two aside from that, too.

[hasaknightjob]

"Hurting people," Marc said. "Hurting me which - I can take care of myself but there it is. Otherwise... he'll give a thousand chances to people who don't deserve 'em. But cruel for no reason? Hurt kids? People he cares about? He'll get pissed."

[totalwildcard]

Yeah, that about covered what Harley had been assuming.

"So I should be careful about you, huh?"

It was... a joke. Either gentle or weak, depending on how nice you wanted to be about it.

[hasaknightjob]

"His definition of that's different from mine," Marc said. He poked at his spinach because of course out of the two of them he was the one most likely to order something with spinach. "Fuck knows sometimes I deserve it."

[totalwildcard]

"To hurt?" Harley checked.

Just that.

[hasaknightjob]

"I fuck up a lot," Marc said. He turned to look at Harley because he was absolutely thinking of a fuck up in progress based on what he learned earlier in the night. "Hurting people is what I'm good at."