capeandcowllogs | A constellation of tears on your lashes

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A constellation of tears on your lashes

WHO: Roy Harper & Laura Kinney
WHERE: Dallas BBQ Restaurant
WHEN: Friday night
WARNINGS: Discussion of non-con/abuse.
SUMMARY: Roy takes Laura on an ill-planned date and talking happens.
FORMAT: Tagger's choice.

Their brief encounter at the auction left Roy with more questions than answers about Laura, though one thing seemed certain: she didn't at all strike him as the roller rink type. It took a little thought, but he'd come up with the barbecue place as an alternative, figuring that there would be good food and tasty frozen drinks, and if they decided to go elsewhere after dinner, it would be a fine preamble.

He'd arranged to pick her up at 8pm and had arrived casually dressed in jeans and a plain red teeshirt. He seemed laid back, much like the establishment. It was busy, but not overwhelming, with the smokey scent of babyback ribs wafting through the air and the laughter of college kids tipsy off daiquiris filling the room. It was fun, and Roy sincerely hoped it would translate to his evening with Laura.

"You gotta try this one drink they've got," he said, pointing to the list of frozen options on the menu. "It's called Miami Vice. It tastes like how being on a vacation feels."

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Laura wasn't the only one trained at infiltration. He'd spent a significant stretch working as an undercover officer, so he knew what behaviors attracted attention and what would, to a bystander, appear to be perfectly normal.

Roy followed her, looking just as casual, and without so much as a secondary glance, he easily started scaling the building from a particularly shadowy part of the alley. It was clear that he knew what he was doing, climbing up to rooftops was perhaps more than second nature to him. He had been doing this sort of thing since he was barely out of middle school, after all.

Laura was a bit impressed by that, at least. She didn't follow him up the wall immediately, watching him before she jumped up to a windowsill, then swung over to grab a pipe and scale the rest of the way up, flipping up over the edge of the roof in a single long arc and landing with barely a thump on the roof, crouching to absorb her speed and then standing up slowly as she turned to look over at the club and the space between them.

"I assume you can make that jump?"

"Of course I can," Roy nodded, flashing a slightly smug grin. "Can you?"

He knew full well that she could, after having seen that graceful show on her way up to the roof, but that didn't mean he was finished watching her. She hadn't been kidding about the knowing how to dance part. The way she moved sort of reminded him of a dancer.

"I can jump three times further than that," she said, completely without any tone of bragging. Mostly. Maybe a tiny bit, anyway. "I could also jump from the roof to the ground, if necessary." Okay, that might be a little bit of bragging.

She took two steps back then, and easily cleared the space between the buildings, landing and turning to wait for him in one smooth motion, her arms crossed. Her hair and jacket were both caught by the wind at that moment, so she probably looked rather impressive, framed by the city lights.

She was impressive, Roy could certainly admit that. And with the lights hitting her and the breeze blowing through her hair, he thought she was especially pretty, the kind of pretty that had absolutely no idea just how pretty she was. He had to laugh, shaking his head as he looped back across the roof to give himself a running start. He was only human, she couldn't fault him for that.

The leap was made easily, and he stood up beside her, dusting some kicked up dirt and pebbles from his jeans and hands. A jump like that was no sweat, but next to Little Miss "I Can Jump Three Times Further Than You Can", he must've seemed like some chump kid. Oh well.

Well she knew he was only human, so she didn't hold it against him. Much. "Not bad," was all she said before she turned and headed over to the roof access door that stuck up out of the club. It was locked, of course, but one of her claws popped out all the way with an audible 'snikt', blood gleaming off the blade before she stabbed it through the lock and twisted.

The door popped open silently, and she stepped back, waiting for him to pass inside, perhaps. So much for a chance to be a gentleman.

That business with the claws had to hurt, and Roy made a mental note to ask her more about them sometime when he wasn't trying to coax her out of her shell and onto a dance floor. As it was now, he was busy self-deprecatingly muttering "Ladies first," under his breath as Laura opened the door for him. Though, to be fair, he did, lean back to make sure it didn't suddenly lurch forward and close on her, nor did he go ahead of her into the building. They were in this together now.

It was a relative sort of pain, nothing compared to other things she had felt, and the claw slipped back beneath her skin with another soft sound and not a single indicator it hurt. She flicked her hand at the roof to shake the blood off, and then nodding in thanks to help when he tried to hold the door, stepping past him and into the...stairwell.

Well it was better than a bunch of girders at least.

With a glance back to make certain he was following, she slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket and headed downstairs.

He nodded in return, keeping close behind her as they began their descent. Dance music reverberated from below them, echoing up the stairwell. The metal handrail was vibrating along to the bass line, and with each step they took, everything got just a little bit louder.

"Loud enough for you?" He asked, jokingly. Just ahead was another metal door.

She didn't seem particularly thrilled by the loud noise, but after a moment she drew in a breath and her discomfort seemed to fade. She couldn't turn her enhanced senses off, but she could...not focus on them.

"Imagine how loud it would be if you had exceptional hearing," was her answer, half-shouted as they paused before the door. She seemed to be waiting to see how he would open it.

She had a point, but at least she was being a good sport about it. Realizing that she was waiting for him to open the door, Roy considered his options. He could easily kick the door in, but that would surely tip off anyone who happened to be on the other side. Taking a second to think it through, he instead dug into his pocket and pulled out a small file (amongst other random items, like a paper clip, chewing gum, and about eighty-eight cents worth of coins.) The file certainly wasn't as flashy as her spectacular metal claws, but he knew how to use it to get the job done, and a moment later, he'd popped the lock and was holding the door open for Laura.

"After you, milady."

She just watched silently as he unlocked the door, almost as if she were grading him for his progress, but said nothing when he finished, just nodding in appreciation at the open door.

The music really was shockingly loud, and she stopped just inside the room itself, waiting for him to enter and close the door before she made a move towards the crowd.

She turned as if she were going to ask him something, but could he even hear her? So instead she just motioned towards the dance floor to see if that was what he wished to do.

The music was loud and it had a nice beat to it, and all Roy wanted to do now was dance. He once again offered his hand to Laura and led her through the crush of bodies to a spot on the dance floor. He wasn't a bad dancer by any means, and he wasn't afraid to show off a bit, mostly in hopes of getting Laura to relax and maybe eventually crack a smile for him.

All the while, he was not so secretly admiring Laura as they danced, appreciating the way she moved to the music and how every now and then the neon lights would hit her just so that her eyes seemed to glow.

And despite trying to keep to themselves, they seemed to be attracting a bit of attention. More than once, other women tried to cut in and steal Roy away. He wasn't exactly sure why, he wasn't that good of a dancer. But nonetheless, they kept trying to force their way in and cast Laura aside. It was starting to seem like every time he and Laura would step apart for a second or two, another person would try to replace her, and quite frankly, Roy was having none of it.

Laura liked to dance, when she actually managed to do it. There was a certain freedom to it, and a certain anonymous freedom in a club like this, with so many people around, with the dark, with the lights flashing and the music too loud to talk. It didn't matter who you were, what you did, you were just another figure in the mass.

And she could dance, once she settled into a rhythem. And Roy wasn't bad either, she decided as she watched him. Or tried to watch him, since every time she moved far enough away she could see, a woman wound up slipping between them until Roy pushed her away.

It was strange at first, but by the fifth or sixth time it was just frustrating...she wasn't possessive (Roy did smell sort of...oddly appealing...) but they were obviously dancing together.

So the seventh time it happened, a pretty, airheaded blonde girl got growled at by Laura, a deep, feral sound that sent her darting away with a little shriek of surprise.

"Hey!" Roy was almost as startled as the other woman was, now expecting such a low, possessive sound from Laura, though he was quite frankly, just as annoyed as she was at all this random attention. Maybe it was time to take a break and get away from his scores of admirers and regroup. He put an arm around Laura's waist to guide her from the dance floor toward an open table across the club. It would be quieter the further they were from the floor, and they could get drinks and everything would be cool again.

"You're a regular Ginger Rogers," he said with a cheeky smirk, arm still around her. He wasn't trying to invade her personal space, but it was pretty much impossible not to, with all the bodies packed in there like sardines. Besides, he was clearly there with Laura. This was a date. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to show her off a little. She was hot, and he was damn lucky to be out with her.

Roy's shout drew Laura up short at least, the frustration vanishing from her face, but before she could say anything he was leading her off the dance floor. She hadn't realized she'd gotten that bad, frankly, but thinking back she really had just growled at that girl. Well, she didn't feel bad about it, anyway.

"Thank you," she said to the compliment once they were out enough that she was sure he could hear again, sinking down into a chair with a sigh, her green eyes focused on him.

"You are certainly popular."

"Yeah, about that..." He trailed off, shrugging. It had been a little more than what he was used to, but Roy had always had an easy way with women. He knew he was good looking, and he projected confidence and a kind of attitude that seemed to pull people in. Women liked being around him and he liked being around them, that was nothing new. But he'd never seen anything quite like that happen on a dance floor, not when he was obviously dancing with someone else. "I got the moves like Jagger. You know how it is."

That earned him a raised eyebrow and no other comment, folding her arms on the edge of the table as she looked back over at the crowd, considering the people. From what she saw, girls weren't doing that to other people. Just Roy.

"Do you really think it was simply your ability to dance?" She finally asked as her gaze shifted back to him. What was that smell...

"What else could it be?" He was genuinely perplexed. He hadn't done anything different, he was just being his normal self. He couldn't help it if certain other patrons of the club were charmed by him.

But he didn't want Laura to dwell on it, so he gave her a friendly clap on the forearm and stood up again. "You want a drink? A coke or something?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. Whatever it was, assuming it wasn't just a strange coincidence, she didn't know enough to speculate one way or another.

She just nodded at his offer, turning her gaze back to the dance floor speculatively.

Roy returned to their table a minute or so later with two sodas in hand, and he studied Laura carefully for a moment before taking his seat across from her. She still seemed so out of place there, amongst all the other laughing and happy people, and he just couldn't figure out why. He placed one of the glasses before her, still watching her watch the crowd.

"Are you having a good time or have I bored you to tears yet." It wasn't exactly a question. Roy was assuming he already knew the answer.

She didn't look over until he spoke, though she was aware he was there, she was just still watching the people still. When he finally spoke she turned back, picking up her soda and taking a sip.

"...Yes," she finally said, her head tilted to the side as she thought it over. And then she seemed to realize that answer wasn't much use. "I am having fun." She really was, actually.

He wasn't sure if he believed her or not, and he didn't want her to think she had to be fake or pretend. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that if she were miserable, she would have either left by now or told him so. Laura didn't have to be here, he reminded himself, and that reminder seemed to snap him out of his own funk.

"Could be that those other chicks were jealous of you, Laura." Roy grinned teasingly. "Can't blame them though, right? I mean, if you dance like Ginger, I must be Fred Astaire."

"Maybe," she agreed, but she still wasn't certain. Those same girls weren't out there doing it to other people...one of them was still eying Roy from the edge of the dance floor, in fact.

But she forced herself to focus on him, and then she smiled faintly. "If they were jealous of me, they would have made more of an attempt when you rejected them." Which she had done, which felt sort of nice.

Why was dating so hard?

It was probably hard because she didn't seem to know what she was doing. And that was okay. Everyone has to learn to walk before they can run. To be fair, none of Roy's past dating experiences were making this date any easier for him. Laura wasn't at all like the women he usually went out with, or at least she didn't necessarily present that way. She wasn't loud. She wasn't dominating. And unlike Donna (the woman of his past who broke the trend) she wasn't overtly sweet natured. She was different, and he liked that.

"Either way, you scared them off, sweetheart."

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