withasouvenir | { open post }

[What should have cheering up a friend of a friend turned out to be very nice. Sam dwells on it afterward. After much deliberation, he throws out a suggestion that maybe they try dinner at a place with tables. No pressure or anything. He just liked hanging out with her.

Honestly, he's kind of surprised she said yes. The place isn't really worth of a Queen, but he likes the steak and they make a mean baked potato. As he waits for her arrive, he wonders if that will be enough. He's never been self-conscious about his status in life. He's doing pretty damn good. Thea Queen is next level. It's hard not to notice.]

Hey! [ thea hurries inside, pushing her hair back and grinning when she sees sam. ] Sorry there was a whole valet thing and I forgot my purse so I had to chase him down the street and that was a thing. But -- [ she holds up her little bag. she's not dressed up, per se, black shorts with a tuxedo stripe over black knit tights and a slouchy black sweater threatening to fall off one shoulder, but it's definitely not speedy wear. she cleans up real nice, hair a short mess of disheveled curls. the thin necklace she has one is half caught on her sweater by one of it's silver wings -- because it's a bird. ] You weren't waiting long, right?

[He bobs his head like it's totally reasonable to have a valet thing. He wouldn't know since he only ever let his mom and sister drive his car. In any case, Sam's a little bust being interested by the choice in clothing. He thinks his little niece would probably kill for that outfit. Maybe he ought to take notes. Though in all honesty it's the bird that really catches his eye.

His gaze lingers on it before dismissing her concern with a shake his head.] I'm just settling in. Glad you got your purse back. Really brings your look together.

[He waves at the whole fashion icon thing Thea has going on. God knows he's not letting her pay for this.]

Why thank you. [ she straight up curtsies, because she's thea, looking pleased as punch by the compliment. she may not need her purse, but it holds important lady things!! like a box of sno-caps and a lock picking kit and tranq arrows disguised as tampons because boys are afraid of them. and actual tampons. ]

I was gonna try to play it cool, but I spent like two hours picking this out so I'm glad it worked out. [ she sweeps her hand through her hair like she is still trying to play it cool. ]

[Sam laughs because that has got to be the cutest thing he's ever seen.] You don't need to do all that... [Sam trails off before adding charmingly,] Though in your defense I called my sister for this.

[He tugs at his dress shirt teasingly.] I look good in blue according to her.

You do. Your sister was very right, and she has great taste. [ stretching forward, she settles her hand on his shoulder so she can press a kiss to his cheek. ]

Thanks for inviting me.

[He smiles at the kiss before pulling away so he can guide her to her seat in gentlemanly fashion.] Thanks for coming. Now let me pull up a chair for you before my mom comes out of her hiding spot.

[Not really, but she is pretty stoked her son is starting to date again so he's lowkey preparing her in case they ever do meet.]

Thea's never been an early riser, she's always been more of a night owl. Vigilantism fed into that but retiring didn't stop her late night tendencies, it just parleyed them into something different. Waiting up watching late night TV and eating left over take out while she fucks around on the internet instead of beating up bad guys.

She doesn't realize the time, looking up from her computer when the door slams shut, noticing that it's pitch black in the apartment, only illuminated by the light of the laptop she sets on the coffee table.

"Hey Matt." Anyone else would have commented on the darkness. "On a scale of one to ten, rate your injuries before I turn around and see them." She needs to be prepared.

He can hear the hum of the computer and knows she's sitting in the dark because of the lack of lights humming. He also knows that she gets caught up in the internet and he doesn't mind. At least she's not worrying about him.

Matt peels the mask off as soon as he's inside the apartment and tosses it to the entrance table. "Six," he answers. "I don't need any stitches, but I'm sore all over and I think I cracked a bone in my shoulder. It should heal on it's own," he responds, unzipping the top part of his suit.

"I'm going to get changed. What are the chances you'd share your leftovers?"

"Slim to none, but I can be persuaded."

I think I cracked a bone in my shoulder he says so calmly like it's not a big deal and Thea knew she was the exact same way before she retired which is what makes her frown as she tiptoes across the floor in the darkness to stand in front of him.

"If your shoulder is fucked up, let me help." She's already taking over the unzipping with her cool fingers, pushing the fabric of the suit back to gently work it over his shoulders.

"Mmmm, I was afraid you'd say that," he says with a sigh then holds up the paper bag he's holding in his other hand. "I'll share my ice cream if you'll share your leftovers and yes, now the clerk at the bodega knows that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen likes chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream." It'd been slightly awkward at the register.

It's not a big deal. He's cracked nearly every bone in his body at some point. It's a fact of his life and one he's learned to accept. His injuries are less severe with the armored suit, but they're impossible to avoid. His attention goes to her when she tiptoes toward him.

"I'm not going to argue with you undressing me. I'm actually known as a relatively smart guy," he jokes, wincing slightly as she works the suit over his shoulders. "I'm okay, Thea. I promise."

"Yeah, yeah," she teases, letting her hands rest against his shoulder for a moment like an impromptu ice pack. "Stop gloating about your college education, I get it, you're a lawyer."

This would be the perfect time to segue into a line about how he's a lawyer that needs a break from being a vigilante under the cloak of darkness. But he's bruised and probably broken and relaxed, she can feel the calm under his skin and she can't take that away from him.

"I should make you promise under oath."

The impromptu ice pack is better than a real one. Sure, her hands aren't nearly as cold as a package of frozen peas would be, but they feel a lot better. He sighs and hums contentedly at her touch, almost missing her words. "Clearly, I need to tell you more lawyer jokes if you think that's something to brag about," he jokes with her.

One of these days he's going to figure out a way to let the people that care about him hear the pain and the terror that he hears from the city. He thinks they'd all understand about his need to do what he can to help the people of this city if they could hear that need.

"Find me a bible," he tells her. Yes, he's broken and bruised and sore, but it's nothing that won't heal.

( wishes really do come true, he guesses. but sometimes they feel a little bittersweet. sometimes they feel like they weren't enough.

yeah, he stayed in that damn place long enough to get what he wished for: to make it off lian yu in one piece. to get back to star city, to fight his ass off to get zoe back after he missed his hearing. (he's pretty sure being kidnapped and surviving a bunch of bombs isn't gonna fly with the judge as an excuse — but oliver's told him that he'd help him, for which he's grateful.) he's lucky. others aren't.

he shouldn't have been so selfish. he should've thought about everyone else, too. oliver's doing him a solid, and rene could've paid him back, used that wish stone for everyone on that island, but he didn't, and he can't. it's too late.

rene goes to her room sometimes, even if nobody ever really knows why, 'cause they were never particularly close here in star city. he goes there even if the long walk down the hallway feels like he's going to confessional. in a way, it kind of is, considering he usually ends up just sitting there in that miserable hospital room, listening to the beeping of thea's heartbeat on the monitor, watching her for something — anything.

he's lucky that he remembers time with her from back in that stupid city, of fries shoved in mouth and salty kisses and hands pressed against bare skin — of sneaking around and stealing glances and trying not to get him killed by her brother. she might not remember all that, but he's glad that he got to know her like he did considering he never thought it'd happen here in star city.

it's been a long day at city hall, and rene lets out a heavy sigh as he scoots the wooden chair against the tiled floor closer to her bed, loosens the tie around his neck. ) Damn, reina. I dig my promotion and all, but you make a better chief of staff any day. Hotter, too. ( best believe he can still flirt even when the girl's in a coma. )

[ this is not the first coma thea has been in, but she'd thought after she retired that the last one would be, you know, the last. now she guesses it won't be completely off the table until oliver retires. same with kidnapping, sigh.

she'd woken up in the middle of the night, choking and disoriented, and been carefully walked through what had happened while oliver held her hand so tightly she thought he was going to break it. she'd just been in a coma, again!, she let him think the tears were simply being overwhelmed, or maybe her sore throat. he'd promised to bring william by after school but before that she just wanted some time to herself without anyone crowding her, maybe even william could wait until after dinner.

it was time needed to let the nurses help her up so she could pee and shower and brush her teeth fifteen times, time spent hearing from the nurses that the mayor's chief of staff had been visiting, more than almost everyone -- oliver and quentin being the obvious exceptions.

here he is again, still calling her queen.

maybe it's selfish, but thea keeps her eyes closed, keeps her breathing the same, thanks malcolm. all to maybe hear a tiny snippet of what rene might have said to her while she was out all that time. if they've had a handful of conversations where she didn't get to contribute much, she does kind of want to know what she was missing. if her face softens a little, it's not her fault, but hopefully the nasal cannula that replaced her ventilator will disguise it still. ]

( for someone who hates talking about his feelings, hates talking about his life and what's happened in it, rene sure does find himself saying a hell of a lot when he's in this hospital room.

it's a little weird, maybe, considering he never gets an answer back — but that's pretty much what he's looking for. no judgment, no offers to help him fix problems he can handle on his own, no quippy remarks. hell, he's probably rehearsed his speech for the judge at his hearing about twenty times now for his own personal audience of one even though he doesn't even have a set court date yet.

there's a long silence, coupled with rene hanging his head and just looking at the same damn tiled floor he's probably looked at fifty times now.

this ain't right. here he is, bitching about his work problems when they're problems he wouldn't even have if thea wasn't in this damn coma; he'd still be grabbing black coffees in the morning with the name "hoss" scribbled on them by the barista.

next thing he knows, rene's reaching out to grab her hand — iv and all — and holds it between both of his own, like it just might amplify how guilty he is, let her know how sorry he is — and he never apologizes for shit. he sighs, long and drawn out, lifts his gaze towards thea's blissfully sleeping face. ) I should've used that damn wish stone on you. Just another thing I messed up.

[ oliver is the same way. thea knows he talks to her while she's out, she remembers snippets and he's told her as much anyway. she wishes oliver opened up more to her when she was conscious, but she also knows it takes a lot for him open up and she opens up to her more than most people.

now, apparently rene is doing the same and when rene takes her hand the way she weakly squeezes back is automatic, as is the tiny hum of contentment at the feel of his hand in hers again. finally. the problem with the giant time different between her and rene in cadelle is that when they'd returned home... rene didn't remember their time in the city yet. she'd had to catch up to him in the city, she had to wait for him to catch up in star city, pretend he wasn't her type.

he is very much her type.

she huffs a breath, eyes still closed, still trying to pretend to be asleep so she can squeeze out a little more of his secrets before he realizes she isn't as unconscious as she seems. this is her only chance to listen to secrets because someone thinks she is comatose! she will not be foiled by her own impatience!

hopefully! ]

( you know who's not afraid of ~~the big bad wolf~~ oliver queen? the girl who's already cheated death, that's who. come at her, el depresso zorro, she can take you. )

hot damn
are you my appendix?

because i don't really understand how you work but there's this weird feeling in my stomach that makes me want to take you out

Edited 2017-12-13 05:01 (UTC)

look i dont even know what the appendix does but im into it, lets go

google says nobody knows so you're in good company
what a joke

how do you feel about laser tag
i'm in the mood to shoot an annoying kid in the chest
obviously celebrating our win with drinks is a given

( it's not exactly a blind date. though, technically speaking, he's never met the girl in question, he hasn't been set up by a well-meaning friend or a particularly over-invested ex-girlfriend. this is just a function of the okcuddle software, a randomized date assignment, intended to allow those less brave to enjoy the arrangement of a date with someone suitable for an evening. where things go from there, of course, is hardly guaranteed.

so it's not really a blind date in the strictest way. at least, that's his rationalization as he tugs at the knot of his tie, adjusting and re-adjusting until he finally throws it to the ground with a huff. no tie, then. he'll just go the button-down shirt and blazer route, and pray to god or jack kerouac or whoever might be listening that it's good enough.

granted, he's probably — hopefully? — not being set up with a waldorf, so it likely won't matter. but, in any case, he'll go. he'll find the designated table at the designated italian restaurant and wait, ever so patiently, for his mystery date. )

[ as long as she's not being set up with oliver, barry, kara, or laurel, thea is a-okay with any choice. her short list of hard nos happens to be people she considers family anyway and thus super inappropriate.

typically, she is running late. not because it took her too long to get ready, though she looks extra cute hurrying to their table in a flimsy white blouse over teal skinny jeans with a burgundy suede biker jacket that matches her vans, but because-- ]

Sorry I'm late, I'm Thea, there was a raccoon in the street and I don't know if they're rabid here or not but he wasn't moving so I took the long way to avoid becoming the raccoon version of Spider-Man.

Edited 2018-01-11 16:45 (UTC)

( she talks a mile a minute, and for the first thirty seconds, all dan humphrey is capable of doing is blinking. he stares at her like a deer in headlights for a hot second until he realizes that he's, you know, staring — and then his gaze drops immediately, focusing instead on the glass of water in front of him like it holds the secret to the universe. which, obviously, it doesn't. )

Right. You're definitely not Raccoon Girl, got it. ( he should also probably introduce himself. that might help. he'll get up, too, because being a gentleman and pulling her chair out for her is exactly the weird upper-crust-wannabe shit dan humphrey is known for. ) Dan, by the way. Definitely not Spider-Man, either, for the record.

( moved from here )

i think faking my death is a decent option ftr

And what if you happen to answer the door - are you now your identical twin Mia?

yeah exactly

Do you think the delivery guy will remember you distinctly enoguh to care about your untimely fake death?

well now i'm questioning everything laur

I'm just saying that he probably delivers to dozens of people every shift. You're probably not the most awkward thing he's ever seen.

are you saying my smoking hot bod in a towel is not memorable????

Not at all. I just remember working menial jobs and at a certain point, it all blurs together.

well we both know i have no experience now so i will defer to your expertise

Thank you. And if I'm wrong, because it could happen, maybe the delivery guy could be your next great love story. It's a very romcom kind of start.

wouldn't i have to move to the small town to make that happen?

That's a strictly Hallmark offering. If you're going for the early aughts rom-com boom, they were all about the city girls.

city girl supremacy yesss

They also had a surprising amount of gag nudity, so technically you're on the right track.

okay okay i'm liking where this is going, we should have a movie night!

Yes, we should. Your place or mine?

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you're welcome.

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❝ ... ❞

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