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Akiva, of course, was precisely on time. He's never late, always just so. He has a car now, a simple vehicle just for getting about, a basic sedan that he uses to ferry them to the restaurant. There's little ceremony about it, he simply acquired her address and, with a proper estimation of the time required to reach their destination, picked her up at her home. Their small talk along the way was relatively minimal and they largely listened to the radio, which was tuned to pleasant and old fashioned music.
The deli itself is dominated by a Jewish clientele and there are a few looks thrown Poindexter's way when she enters. Akiva doesn't seem to care about their opinions, however, "We make our orders at the counter and they'll bring them to us," he says, knowing the ways of the deli. "If you wish, I can order for you or you could choose for yourself," he says.
*
Ann was at least dressed for the occasion. Sort of. Armed with her notes in her purse from Chief Sousa, her manner of dress was a skirt. Pencil line. Nothing flashy but it was in black. Small heels and a white blouse that showed off her thin little arms. She wore a pearl necklace, and her hair was in elaborate decor that stretched just to the middle of her back. Her glasses were big, as they were, but she loved wearing them and they allowed her to see. But once she entered into the deli, all eyes were on her. She couldn't tell if it was because she was pretty, or because she was short or black. She was a little self conscious.
As she stands next to him in the deli, her hand lifting to grip her arm as she draws in a breath to look at the menu. "I do believe that the male in these similiar situations should order." Ann says with certainty. "Shall I find us a seat? Where would you prefer to sit?"
*
Akiva nods, "Near the window. I like to be able to keep an eye on the street. In our profession, the possibility of being trailed is always something of which to be aware," he says. He makes his way up to the counter and orders for them both - corned beef on rye, pickles and mustard. A bowl of hot matzo soup. Fountain sodas.
He, of course, would seem to be dressed formally if this weren't the way he always dressed. One old man stops him on the way and murmurs something low in Hebrew. Akiva calmly removes the man's hand from his cuff, speaks firmly but kindly to him, and then makes his way over to sit across from Ann.
*
"Very good." Ann says with a bit of a smile. And.. as an added bit of intimacy, she reaches out to lightly cup his elbow. Then moves away. So far so good. Ann searches out the booths, picking the best one with the best vantage points, then pulls out her own chair to take a seat. She smooths her dress along her thighs as she waits. Looking out of the window, shifting and fidgeting a little bit within her seat. Suddenly, she rises, moving towards his side to pull his chair out before she settles back into her own.
She looks up towards Akiva with a smile, that smile faltering a little as the older man stops to speak to him. Her gaze peeling away as she clears her throat and fixes her shirt and skirt again while waiting for him to arrive. She was slowly feeling like this was a bad idea. "Is it proper to inquire what the gentleman said, or shall we move forward to our conversational section of this date?"
*
Akiva considers for a moment, but decides that being straightforward is always the best, especially if you're wishing to form an actual relationship with someone. Is that what he's wanting to do with her? He isn't sure. But best not to undermine it with unnecessary lying. "Nothing to concern yourself with. The old gentleman has some bad opinions. I informed him that his bad opinions had nothing to do with me. And that I would not be patient with any further attempts to impose them on me," he says.
He grasps a nearby ashtray, laying it carefully at the center of the table and drawing out his cigarette case. "Do you?" he says, prepared to offer her one of his cigarettes. They're Turkish, a gold band around the filter, and he dances one over his knuckles to grasp in thumb and forefinger, tapping to pack it with a few measured strokes.
*
She reaches forward to pull the plate of food closer to her as she listens, her eyes widening just a touch but.. why spoil the mood with bad news? Especially if he elaborates. But she puts it out there either way. "Well, Agent Akiva. I would definitely understand if you wish to leave. I know it is inappropriate for certain cultures to mingle with others."
It was all said matter-of-factly, even as she tries the soup first. It was.. something different, but the taste of it was kindly to her tongue. "Mm. No thank you."
*
Akiva shakes his head, "No. That kind of tribalism only has bad results. For both, although, obviously, we Jews have usually ended up on the short end of that particular stick," he says.
"I don't understand America or its particular resentment for blacks. But I have no interest in humoring it. You are intelligent and kind and attractive, which is all I ask for from a date," he says.
He can't help but smile as she rejects the soup, "Not for everyone, no. Although my mother would rap my knuckles if I turned away a bowl of hers," he says, beginning to eat his with eerily identical spoonfuls.
*
"I would like to say that you do not." Ann smiles a little, her eyes casting down into her soup as she continues to sip. At him calling her attractive, she nearly balks and drops her spoon, giving a slight straight-backed approach to it all. And a half smile.
"I appreciate your kindness." She stares at him for a while, her eyes searching his as he mentions the soup, and begins to eat. "I find it refreshing. It's an acquired taste, but refreshing all the same. It seems, that there has to be certain circumstances, moods.. that are needed if I want to taste anything so different again." She fixes herself upon the sandwich, cutting it into pieces that she could pick up and eat without spillage.
"Have you been on many dates? Have you been married? Do you have children?" She was getting deep into the 'getting to know you' stage of the date. "Any allergins? Dislikes.. likes.."
*
Akiva smiles slightly as he finishes his bowl of soup. She is very direct, which, to be frank, he finds rather refreshing. He can do the song and dance of manners, of course, play the subtle seduction game. But it grows tiring. He lies enough as part of his work, to try to weedle secrets out of the unwary. When he is being himself, he likes to be straightforward.
"No kindness, merely speaking the truth," he says. "I have been on many dates, although many of them have been a part of my work and so occurred under false pretenses," he says. "I have never been married and have no children, much to my mother's chagrin. I do have nieces and nephews in Israel, although I see them but rarely," he says.
"Likes and dislikes are extraordinarily vague. I like many things and dislike many others. So far, I like you. That seems the most relevant," he says, making eye contact for a moment.
*
"I understand completely. The life of the Agent of .." She glances around, her lips pursing. "Is an interesting life. Though it is something that I am not qualified to see outside of the office. I failed most of my trials and I do believe that I am better suited in a lab." She clears her throat, then picks up her spoon to take another sip of soup. "And saving lives in the interim." But with him not being married and having no children, Ann nods.
She lifts her eyes as he mentions likes and dislikes, finally picking up a sandwich to prepare to take a bite. As he says that he likes her.. her eyes nearly water due to the blush that tints her pretty brown cheeks like so, and..
"Like and dislikes. Movies. Television. Radio. Walking versus driving." She puts her sandwich down, soup spoon as well, frantically searching for her purse. "I believe I've come up with a list of likes and dislikes that we can discuss in detail.." Gosh, she was nervous now.
*
Akiva nods, "We all have our strengths. I have more than most. The mistake many make is thinking that those strengths and weaknesses are measures of merit, then they are simply differences, no more relevant to a person's value than the color of their eyes or the kind of shoes they wear," he says.
He takes a bite of the sandwich, chewing carefully and never speaking with his mouth full, allowing for pauses in the conversation. "I like movies. Theatres are dark and quiet and there's something to the shared experience. I am fond of Western films and musicals. I do not enjoy war films," he says. "I have never watched television, although I am aware of it, outside of a few news broadcasts. Musically, I favor Bing Crosby and his ilk - the 'crooners', I believe they're called. And I prefer to walk."
"And yourself?"
*
There was a little light in that place where Akiva was able to keep his cool where Poindexter wasn't. His nonchalance about her nervousness and her incessant searching for her little notes, and obviously not picking on her about them makes something stir inside. Stirring as in, calm. Calm to a weathered storm.
"Aha." She pulls the paper out, unfoldling it before her eyes to draw her glasses up to read, though. once the question was directed back towards herself there was a little look of confusion. "I..am afraid that our nature of work affords me little time to persue such pleasantries." The paper was set down then. "In fact, it was a common thing in our household to not seek out things which bring us extreme joy, due to my condition, until a proper cure or safety countermeasures were set into place."
She inhales. "Though I do enjoy reading. And tinkering. And a good walk. And coffee with chocolate or vanilla powder." That? Oh that makes her laugh a little.
*
Akiva considers, "I was not aware you had a condition, but if it is one that would deprive you of joy, that is definitely unfortunate," he says.
"Reading is perhaps the most pleasant of all the pastimes, yes. A rainy evening and a good book can make most of the world's troubles fall away," he says. The books had kept him sane in the lab when he was young, the only thing resembling a comfort allowed him. They wanted to keep a measure of his intellect, to measure what he could do.
"I don't believe I've tried coffee or vanilla in my coffee. Israelis tend to take pride in drinking their coffee black, because it is often brewed in adverse conditions. They convince themselves that it tastes good."
*
"Mm. Any emotion that is extreme is rumored to trigger it. Though it is not a definite, it is just a hypthesis that my family and I weren't keen to test out." The fountain sodas were soon sipped, well.. her own, watching him as he speaks of the pleasures of reading. "I.. must confess something." She laughs a little, looking towards the checklist. Confessing a truth was on that list, which she could check off. And it was honest.
"I do enjoy it most when I am read to. It may seem juvenile. But I do suppose that I do not appreciate my inner voice more than I do the spoken word."
The soup was finished and put aside, her sandwich bitten. "Then we shall take this to go. I have to take you to the diner that serves this. Have you paid already? Should I call for the check? I'm not used to places such as these.."
*
Akiva smiles, "We can certainly do that, if you please. I haven't had very much of diner cuisine, outside of the occasional film. Usually in black and white and they order little more than the aforementioned coffee or perhaps some eggs," he says.
"I would be happy to read to you, sometime, if you like," he says in a slightly softer voice. "I can even imitate a particular voice you might enjoy. I'm rather good at mimicry. A side effect of my own condition," he says.
*
"Let's. It is just a small cafe. I believe they call it the term of 'Mom and Pop'. It is there we shall have desert and speak more of our dislikes and likes. I also believe at some point, she should speak of our expectations. I do believe mine are more general, than most."
Though, hearing that he was good at mimicry was something to explore. While she doesn't ask him to prostrate himself right now, she does slide from her chair, gripping her purse and waiting as a proper lady should for him to stand as well. Or.. maybe she should sit, then he stand.. and then she stands. It was confusing.
"The place is not too far from here. Shall we walk and talk? Leave the vehicle outside?"
*
Akiva smiles and rises from his seat to stand first, offering his hand to assist her to her feet. His fingers are firm but not forceful, helping to support.
"Walking would be nice. I believe my car will be safe here," he says. "Why do you feel that your expectations are more general than most? Do people have very specific expectations normally?"
*
As he takes her hand once she sits again, she rises, carefully pushing in her chair but she doesn't let go. It was natural.
"Well." She states as she leads him towards the exit. "When I approached Chief Sousa about the prospect of going out on a date or a social outing with you, Mr. Avraham, I questioned him on what is to be expected while dating. He asked me myself what I expected and I told him friendship. I would not mind a romantic partner, but yet marriage itself is at the bottom of the list. I would have to refer to my notes for a concise list."
She opens the door, finally letting go of his hand once they were out in the open air. "I do believe that on first dates there are general expectations. There is the acquisition of food and drink as we've just partaken in, light conversation and banter as they say. And a possibility of affections shown if there is a mutual attraction. Though some people delight in riske behaviours on the first date, which I bare no ill will towards, there are others that like to extend the affections towards a second or third date, and the discussion -of- said third and second date while on the first. Unless, my thoughts are wrong in that regard.."
*
Akiva works to keep up along with her train of thought as she speaks. She's a fascinating individual, much unlike the other people he encounters on a regular basis. In some ways, she's more like him - in others, so much different. But he finds her candor incredibly refreshing and likable - it's almost innocent, in its way.
"I see. So you were wondering, perhaps, what kind of expectations I might have for a first date, then? Perhaps in regard to mutual affection and when and how it might be expressed?" he says, feeling a bit like a codebreaker trying to break the newest cipher.
*
"Mmhmm." She looks up towards the nights sky, then back down in front of her as she walks. Her hand moving to push up her glasses to afix them upon her face properly.
"Yes. I suppose that asking a question in this nature is a little bit forward of me. But I suppose that is a question that I would like to have answered when you return me to my home."
*
Akiva smiles, "We can wait to discuss it then," he says. After a moment, though, he reaches over and takes her hand in his as they walk together. Again, there may be some who notice or take issue with it on the street. He has no interest in them, beyond noting their existence.
"I do not mind forward, for the record. I like that you are forthright. Most conversations waste so much time following social rituals and prescriptions largely meant to obfuscate actual substance."
*
"Very good." Annamena comments idly, a little surprise marking her features as he takes her hand. But she allows it, her fingers curling around his, her arm naturally swinging as they walk at a slower pace.
"There was a thought, yes, that I do adhere to those social norms. Play the role, as it were. Become something other than Dr. Annamena Pinkerton and just be a woman who is looking for companionship to end her better days." She frowns a little. "Chief Sousa advised me that I should retain who I am during the course of this date and that if you aren't appreciative of my current personality and state of well being, then this date would and should come to a close." It was then that she squeezes her fingers against his. "But it seems like that is not the case. You are kindly to me, it seems. And I you." She stops in front of the small 'Mom and Pop' diner, releasing his hand so that the door could be tugged open and she'd enter, leaving it open for him to follow suit. "We're here. I believe you'd enjoy this."
*
Akiva follows her in, returning the squeeze to her hand before they break contact to go inside. "I concur," he says. "I think our date has gone very well so far," he says. Exceedingly well, by his measure. So often he had to deal with tedious small talk about meaningless things. He hated feigning interest, even if he had become quite adept at it through his work and studies. Part of why he'd mastered psychology as a discipline was simply to understand people.
"I'm looking forward to it," he says, and whether he means their later discussion or the diner itself, he takes a seat comfortably in a booth. "The Chief spoke wisely. Being yourself is the best method on a sincere date, unless your motive is simply gratification by any means necessary."
*
"I agree." Once he was inside, she takes him by the elbow, shoulder to shoulder as she leads him to the counter top. As the woman turns around, there was a little bit of a shock, seeing Annamena there with a man, a jewish man no less, was cause for a mild hint of concern and a few whispers that was heralded to the cook. While she was a colored woman, Anna was their most dedicated customer. She tipped well, and always knew what she want and said her please and thank yous like everyone else.
So it's a wonder why they stared at Akiva as they did. They were making sure he was the stand up sort.
Sitting down onto the stool, her brows raise and glasses slowly lower as she listens. "Well, it all depends on the -type- of gratification a person is seeking. I believe that the gratification that I am giving and receiving is of the jovial sort. A conversation. Deep as it need be and no more." She looks towards the waittress, holding up two fingers for the cup of coffee and the flavored powders to be delivered. "Altering oneself to achieve something they could have asked for seems like a terrible trial."
*
Akiva nods, "A wise statement. I have had to play such roles as part of the work on occasion - playing a part, deceiving an enemy to find out some information or determine their allegiances. While it can be a diverting game, it seems a strange thing to do merely to pursue physical or social rewards," he says.
He looks around briefly, easily able to get the feel of the place with his sharp mind, "They seem to know you here. I hope they realize I mean no harm," he says. He would hate to have to break the nose of any overprotective gentleman.
*
"I wouldn't mind hearing about one of your missions, Akiva. Once you've cleared it with the proper channels, of course." There was a little smile, relaxed, and a quick lean in and a bump of his shoulder. "But I do suppose that many people find enjoyment in the game. Yes? Otherwise it wouldn't be such a popular endeavor."
As the waittress comes around, she gives Akiva a cross look.
"Look son.." She starts, just as Annamena holds up her hand to try to stop her from speaking.
'We just ain't never seen nobody come up in here with her is all. Ain't nobody worryin' about you. Yet.' She gives him another cross look, the hefty white lady earning a shocked look from Annamena as the waittress slides over the cocoa powder and the vanilla flavoring.
'You hungry Shug?' She asks in her southern drawl.
"No ma'am. And I appreciate your candor. But I will be fine." Anna puts on a grand smile, and the lady brightens up as well.
'Now you two call me if you need anything. I'll get the pies in the oven so sit tight.'
With a hand pressing against her cheek, she gives Akiva a right embarrassed look. "She knows my mom." -That- explains it.
*
Akiva needs no more explanation than that. Someone who knew his mother would possibly kidnap Anna and place her under a severe level of interrogation comparable to what military intelligence would try to use on an enemy soldier. But his mother was a very particular type of person - and everyone she knew was an expert in warfare.
"I do not mind," he says. "It speaks well that they care about you and wish to protect you. They do not know me. I might be a dangerous man. In fact, I am a dangerous man - merely not dangerous to you."
*
"And you possibly shouldn't say that outloud while we're in here." Annamena muses.
Once the coffees were placed down in front of them, Annamena scoots her stool closer to him, her glasses soon removed and placed upon the counter top. It was then that she begins to assemble the drinks. And she did this carefully. Her eyes narrowing, dusting the coffee with flavoring and stirring, tasting it every now and then just to make sure that the flavors were set. It was tedius, but she was devoted, quiet.. she even missed when the two apple pies were suddenly cut and placed in front of them, topped with ice cream and a bit of whip.
"Alright. This one is chocolate. And this one is vanilla." She pushes both of the coffees towards him. "Tell me your preference."
*
Akiva watches as she mixed, as precise and thoughtful as any chemist putting together a formula. He takes the moment to light a fresh cigarette as she does, letting her take her time as he quietly inhales, tapping a bit of ash into the tray beside him.
"I prefer chocolate," he says softly, reaching out and taking the cup carefully as he brings it up to take a sip of the concoction.
*
"That is good to know." Anna smiles at him, then moves to take her own cup of coffee to sip, her plate soon in front of her was dipped into and eaten. There was a moment of silence where she didn't know what to say, and in fact, she was content to keep it that way for now. And at least focus on the pie, it was her favorite recipe.
*
Akiva takes a long, slow sip of the coffee as the pie is placed in front of them, "Thank you," he says sincerely to the proprietor, holding her gaze for a moment until she was both a little enchanted and a little intimidated by the man. At any rate, she backs away as he licks the sweetness from his lips, setting the coffee aside.
"Apple, I presume, this being America and all?" he says with only a bit of teasing, driving his fork in and taking a large bite. Soon, he's alternating in a cycle - smoke, coffee, pie and back again.
*
Whatever enchantment Akiva has over the waitstaff, Poindexter completely mixed it. She was content in that moment to eat and sip her coffee, quiet, her shoulders bunched up with a little bit of tenseness which would ease over time again.
His words from the clear blue, causes her brows ro raise. If it were a joke, it totally went over her head. "No, actually. It's because it's my favorite." Deadpan. And she was back to eating again, focusing upon her little treat.
*
Akiva nods, "Rightfully so. This is quite delicious," he says. He lets the both of them eat their fill, each of them wiping their mouths. The staff will appreciate that they leave clean and easily organized plates.
"That was quite a treat," he says. "while I believe it's traditional to do something different on dates, I wouldn't mind repeating his particular culinary tour another time," he says.
*
"I agree." She mumbles quietly, carefully dabbing away at her lips, a little smile forming. Her glasses were taken and slipped on again, the rim gripped and fixed appropriately as she reaches in her pocket to retrieve a five dollar bill, then leaves it upon the counter top.
"I'm glad you approve. I suppose on our second date we could go for a stroll and look for culinary treats that we've not tried yet. I've learned that experiencing situations for the first time with another would increase the bonding of the relationship." She turns towards him, then stands. "Shall we depart for now and consider this particular first date a success?"
*
Akiva smiles and moves to get up, drawing a few bills and laying them on the table, "Absolutely. I'll take you home," he says. The money he leaves is more than sufficient to pay their bill withi a notable tip.
He gets them out in the open air and takes her hand again, drawing her in a slow, rolling gait up towards the car. "Why did you choose to go out with me?" he says. "I was surprised - very pleased, but surprised - at the opportunity."
*
Once they were outside, hand and hand again, she slow strolls right along with him, the question taking her by a little surprise but she goes the honest route.
"You are very interesting." Ann muses. "I suppose it was the port that is at the base of your spine that caused me to give you a cursory examination. I find that your overall features were pleasing to look at, your tone of voice and your manner of dress. And I also found that I appreciate a man that is taller than I. I do also appreciate that you have been kind to me and honest. And I also was attempting to fulfill my assignments dedicated to me for my sensititivies training. So I confess. It was entirely selfish in my regard but I am thankful for this opportunity."
*
Akiva smiles and can't help but laugh a little, "I assure you, I have gotten nothing but pleasure for the opportunity," he says, reaching the car and opening the passenger door to allow her to get in first.
When she starts to move by, he reaches out and catches the side of her face, fingers slipping precisely behind the hinge of her jaw and holding her steady as he leans in and gives her a soft, measured kiss on the lips, "As long as you're fulfilling your obligations, let me give you a full experience," he smiles.
*
"I didn't mean any offense by it at all!" Annamena corrects herself, and even though he laughs, she laughs too. She squeezes his hand before she lets him go, her hand grasping the car door until her cheek was turned by the way he grasps her. Her eyes were wide, and she nearly leans back and out of the way but she doesn't. The kiss.. measured and gentle as it was, had her eyes closing, her entire body stiffening to the point she was a statue who had posed purposely for the sake of a kiss. And.. she doesn't move. Lips still puckered long after he leaves her, her eyes opening ever so slowly as she finally.. finally shows signs of life.
"A.. u.." She stammers, then just gets into the car!
*