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It's early evening on the Upper West Side. Museums are closing down as the nightlife drives tourists into the pubs, restaurants and nearby theater district. The crisp air has driven many indoors but folks are still walking down the sidewalks, avoiding the ice and snow. Freddie Moyer is one of the businessmen leaving their mundane jobs and heading to the pubs for a night of relaxation and possible flirting. His crisp business suit speaks to a man that knows a decent tailor but not so fine that he stands out from the crowd. While he does his best to blend, there's a magnetism that draws the eye of many as he makes his way to the bar to order his drink. (repose)
*
With talk of insanity ruling the world, and some dispute about the USSR and the Bugle, Betty is well on her way out the door, running a special errand for her boss. Her heels click along the walkway, and one gloved hands holds to the large button of her overcoat, keeping it as tightly secured around her as physically possible. Once inside the bar, she gives a full body shudder and reaches up toward her throat, loosening the hold of her scarf and offering a bright grin to its tender. "Evening, George. How's the night treating you?" A brush through her hair to clear away any shimmering specks of melted snow, the brunette makes her way to the bar to claim a seat, resting her purse on the counter, and pulling out a circular compact to check her powder in its small mirror. "The usual, George. You know how Mr. Jameson only trusts you as his whole seller." A wink later, she notices the blonde man close by, and offers him a nod and smile of silent greeting.
*
Fandral makes a mental note of the bartender's name and then orders, "Guinness…" And then motions to Betty that's giving him the eye, "And put her first drink on my tab." He then gives a dashing smile to Betty, "Just paying forward." His manner is light, relaxed as if he doesn't expect anything from the gesture, "Don't feel obligated to talk to me." He listens to the conversations in the air, insanity and the like, giving a little smile and stifling the impulse of shaking his head.
*
Elizabeth glances up from her mirror, glancing Fandral's way once more, hearing him paying for her first drink. "Oh! Didn't know I was drinking tonight, but in that case…something light and bubbly, George. With a bit of cherry? Thank you." Clicking the compact shut, she slips it back into her purse before offering a gloved hand out toward the blonde man. "Thank you for the drink. I know you said I didn't have to talk to you, but that doesn't mean I'll just ignore my manners. My mother would kill me." She muses, dimples pressing into her cheeks. "My name's Betty. It's a pleasure to meet you."
*
Maximus has arrived.
*
"It's perfectly all right ma'am. I do appreciate a lady with fine manners," Freddie takes her hand and rather than shake it, leans down and kisses the top of her hand like a gentleman would, "Forgive my forwardness but I think a lady should be greeted with more than a hand shake." He straightens up and offers his name, "I'm Freddie. New York transplant rather than native. I'm still getting my bearings around the city but have found I like the central location of this bar."
*
A little dash of wind kicks up through the place as another person enters, this one wearing a large, brown, coat, that looks like a workman's jacket. Underneath is what appears to be a nice, black suit. His black ringlets are all a tousled mess. The coat has a nametag on it that is embroidered 'Grimm'. Upon entering, the best looking pair in the whole place gets his attention and he gracefully plops down on the other side of Elizabeth.
*
Elizabeth blinks, watching the greeting with a bit of curious appreciation. "Thank you." She murmurs kindly and, once done, pulls her hand away, resting it on her lap. "You, too, huh? I'm not from here originally either, moved here with my mom and brother, oh…heavens, fourteen years ago now?" Turning her head toward George, the tender, she beams and accepts her drink, taking its small straw and giving it a stir, causing the cherry inside to bob about. "This is a nice place, and George knows what he's doing. I usually drop by here every couple of days. My boss adores his stock of whiskey. So what do you do, Freddie? Your suit looks very handsome on you. Is it tailored?" Cupping her red lips around her straw, she sips smoothly from her fruity, bubbly drink and turns to view the new patron entering. Once he sits down, beside her, she offers him a nod and smile of greeting, just as she had done for Freddie moments prior.
*
Fandral gives Grimm a glance as he sits on the other side of Elizabeth. The smile is polite and friendly. He continues to give Elizabeth the majority of his attention, "Ahh, you are fortunate to have family in town. I only have a few friends who I work with." He then glances at the suit, "And you have a keen eye. It is tailored. I find a man's dress is reflective of the pride he takes in his appearance. I take great pride so…I dress to impress." He then dips into his suit jacket and pulls out a business card, "I broker in antiquities. Mainly Viking but I do sometimes deviate if the piece is interesting." He nods to her, "And yourself? Do you work close by?"
*
Maximus looks over at the fellow in the suit and arches a dark brow, a skeptical expression flitting over his face. Then he boldly interrupts without any shame in it whatsoever, "Do you do well with that? Antiquities? Here in New York? What is the most ancient thing around here…bits of pottery and haunted burial grounds…" The question seems half like he's just working it out on his own out loud. "Though I do imagine it sounds good, to the ladies."
*
"Oh that sounds very interesting. I enjoy art and history a great deal. Do you have a favorite piece you've come across thus far?" Sipping, she then nods and clears her throat, reaching for a small napkin to dab at the corners of her lips lightly. "I do, actually. I work at the Bugle as a personal assistant to the Editor-in-Chief." Another sip, she looks back toward Maximus, offering him a curious, wide-eyed stare for a moment before setting her drink down on the counter. "I'm sure it's a very profitable business. The higher-ups in the city love slices of history, after all, and knowing someone educated in such things /is/ very good to us ladies."
*
"I do well enough to pay for my wardrobe, my shop and the occasional drink with a pretty lady," Freddie tells Maximus with a laugh, not at all minding his skeptic look as he discusses his business, "And most of my serious clients are private collectors so it's more about networking than selling out of the actual shop." He gives a shrug at his question about the 'oldest' question and answers, "Pieter Claesen Wyckoff House is the oldest building in New York, but if you're looking for some old pottery, I do believe there's a current exhibit on Mesopotamian." He turns back to Elizabeth with a grin, "The Bugle? Well, I am impressed. I always like a bit of current events to go with my ancient history."
*
Maximus rises from the bar without ordering anything, a petulant look on his face. He temper-tantrums towards the door, but at the last second, he looks back over his shoulder.
*
"Impressed, please. I work behind a desk and keep things in order. It's a wonderful job, but only a job." Reclaiming her drink, she watches after Maximus as he stomps off without word or warning. Blinking, clearly confused, her lips pout in a soft 'o' shape as she glances Freddie's way, silently asking for an explanation. When Max looks over his shoulder, Elizabeth stares back, waiting.
*
Fandral glances over at Maximus as he starts to leave and then his eyes get a sheen to them as he turns around and then with hands that are much more stronger than they look grabs Elizabeth and pulls her into a kiss if she's not strong enough to stop him. As a former fertility god worshiped on Earth, there's something more in that kiss that's would melt the coldest woman. His entire being designed to draw out the fairer sex. Because he's not in control of himself, he doesn't mute his ability. Betty gets the kiss of Fandral the Dashing, an Asgardian God of Spring.
*
Maximus looks entirely pleased with himself, satisfied to have…caused some trouble. Though, /my/ that looks like one hell of a kiss. There's an expeditiousness to him, now, though, having gotten a little sense of the other man enough to know that it /could/ be trouble if he's still around in about 5 seconds. So, Maximus does not linger. He takes his satisfaction with him and heads out, and straight for a taxi if he can manage it.
*
"Hey! What's the big i-" Betty exclaims, her voice muffling against the lips of the Asguardian. She struggles, at first, her hand lightly slapping at his arm and chest before the wonders of a god wash over her. Eyes wide, then fluttering to a close, she sinks into the kiss, her gloved fingers lightly balling up against his chest as the other rests slack against her side. Soft faced and pink cheeked, she continues the kiss for as long as it carries, and once broken, gasps and shivers, gazing down toward the floor. "Wh-what just happened…?"
*
Fandral continues the kiss for a few moments until the influence of Maximus has left the Asgardian. He pulls back with a look of surprise, almost as if he didn't mean to, "Betty…I…I…don't know what came over me." He has no explanation for his behavior. He looks at the woman to make sure she's okay because his abilities to manipulate emotions can sometimes be rough for humans to handle. He places a soothing hand on her arm and tries to calm her, "I didn't mean to overstep my bounds."
*
Elizabeth rests some fingers on her brow, before pressing both hands on her cheeks and feeling the heat radiating off both. It's not long before George returns, asking if Fandral is causing trouble. "N-no, it's ok George. Thank you." The young woman promises, finally allowing those stormy eyes to settle on the blonde's features again. "It's…ok? It felt wonderful. I've never…never been kissed like that before." She murmurs sheepishly before her teeth dig into her lower lip and she turns away, sipping at her drink pointedly now. "Guess you did buy me a drink first, at least." She muses once the glass is empty.
*
Maximus has caused a nice thing, and he rides away in a cab thinking all along that he caused some disturbing mischief! Love wins!
*
Maximus has left.
*
"I've never…" Freddie shakes his head to get out the rest of the cobwebs, "I've never done that before. Normally, I try to get to know someone first." He glances at her arms to make sure his manhandling didn't hurt her. Then gives her a grateful smile when she doesn't have George throw him out of the pub, "Please…let me cover your drinks for the rest of the night." He does seem very contrite. He also apologizes to George for causing a scene at his pub.
*
Her arms would show a soft press of red from his initial grip, but they're fading naturally and won't leave anything behind. "It's alright." She explains softly, her hand reaching out to rest atop his own. She even grants him a playful wink. "I like strong men. And, I accept your offer." Tapping her glass, she beams toward George and waits for a refill. Glancing behind her, she notices that Maximus had left them. "He was an odd duck, wasn't he?" She questions aloud before looking back toward Freddie, her cheeks flushing anew. "You must be all the girl's favorite. A string of broken hearts no doubt?"
*
"I'm afraid I'm much more prone to have my heart broken than to be the one breaking others hearts, " Freddie tells her with a rueful look, "Not that I throw myself at women often…it's actually been a while. I haven't been with anyone since I moved to New York last year." He gives a shrug and takes a sip of his drink, turning over his hand where she's resting hers to give it a gentle squeeze, "It's silly really. I fell for my best friend's girl and when it became apparent that she preferred him, I backed away."
*
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." Betty frowns gently, her expression, and tone, apologetic. Giving his hand a squeeze in return, she pulls it away, only to stir at her newest drink. Turning on her seat to face him more directly, the young woman in navy blue, stockings, and pumps, crosses her legs and sips from her straw. "How is that possible, though? You shouldn't be afraid, and you're such a charmer, too. And that's not silly at all. You can't help who your heart loves, Freddie. You're very noble, though, to allow them happiness." Another sip, she leans in closer and covers her mouth in a conspiratorial manner. "To tell you the truth, I've never had anything steady before in all my years of living here. Stupid boys, mostly. I can't hold down a man for longer than a few weeks." Sitting up she blinks, "Oh, that makes me sound horrible."
*
"Not at all," Freddie assures her with a deep smile, "A woman of your discriminating taste deserves something more than boys." He takes a sip of his drink letting his hand fall after she pulls away, "And it's not that I'm afraid. I just…always seem to fall for the unavailable woman. It might be a bit of self-destruction on my part but I never seem to get the girl. And yes, sometimes I cover it up with flirting but underneath hides someone that doesn't want to get hurt again." He gives her a deep look, "But you're different…I'm not sure why. Perhaps that's why I was overcome in the moment." He can't explain the kiss otherwise. He gives the total impression of being honest in his confusion on why he jumped on that impulse.
*
Elizabeth giggles and nods. "Well, I'm very flattered. I'm sorry you've been hurt, but…men like what they like, don't they?" Her slender shoulders give a soft shrug. "You're different, too. Not many men share their feelings, or woes so openly, and to a girl no less." Another smile, she sips from her drink casually and then sets it aside. "You said you have a shop earlier, didn't you? May I ask where it's located?" A pause, "I'd like to visit sometime. Maybe I can find something there for my mother."
*
Fandral motions to the outside, "It's a few blocks away from here." He picks up the card that got dropped when he flashed it earlier, grabbing a pen at the bar to write his personal land line, "My apartment is above the shop…making it convenient for me to go to work in the morning." He hands her the card again, "And we do have some nice antique cameos that might do nicely."
*
"Sorry. I was…caught up in the moment." She clears her throat and accepts the card, slipping it away into her bag. She then pulls one out of her own, jotting down a number and pressing her lips against it, leaving behind a soft pink imprint of her mouth. "Here. If you ever need to call me." Studying his features, she rests her head to the side and then grins. "I know this will sound crazy, and you probably don't want to return to work, but maybe you could sneak me in? Let me take a look at the place? I don't want to give off the wrong impression to your more…well to do clientele."
*
"You could never give the wrong impression," Freddie assures her with a deep smile as he pockets her card, appreciating the lipstick stain on the professional card, "I would love to show you my shop. Not tonight of course." He gives her a soft look so it doesn't feel like rejection, "Instead, may I perhaps dinner. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a little hungry and could use a delightful dinner companion." He then makes a point of paying both of their tabs and will then offer his arm to the lady to see if she takes him up on dinner, "My treat of course since you've been so kind to look over my social error."
*
Understanding, she sits back from the initial delay, though the secondary offer causes yet another smile. "I would be delighted, Freddie. Thank you." She's sure to gather up a bottle of Irish Whiskey before slipping on her coat, and resting her arm into the crook of the Asgardian's own. "After you, sir. What do you feel like eating?" In a maternal motion, she brushes his shoulder lightly, and turns down the very tip of his collar. "Sorry. I should stop fussing. That was rude of me."
*
"I was thinking about a traditional steak dinner if you don't mind. I know a great restaurant that fits an old meat and potatoes man like myself," Freddie tells her with a laugh, as he escorts her out of the pub, "And then you can tell me more about yourself." It's clear his interest isn't just false, he does seem to want to know more about her. When she does the maternal gesture, straightening his collar, he gives a surprised look and shakes his head, "No…don't apologize. I like it. It's not often I have a beautiful woman fussing over me." As they move out of the pub, the crowd just naturally moves away, giving the powerful Asgardian room as he takes his leave, "It is quite the treat for me."
*
"Ah, something that puts meat on your bones. I accept. I've mostly been having pizza and Chinese. Not the best diet, but so delicious." Walking along with him, her heels click smoothly as her purse swings to and fro, and the hand now only his arm grips the neck of the booze. "I hope they don't mind me carrying this in, though." Glancing up at him, she offers another soft smile, and giggle. "Ah, are you a mama's boy, Freddie?"
*
"If you want, we could deliver your…care package before going to dinner," Freddie offers as he starts to hail a taxi, "And then we could head out to the restaurant. I know the host there and he's always good about seating me even when I don't have a reservation." A taxi cab pulls up and he offers for her to go in first, "And yes…I was very much my mother's son." He gives her a grin, "And my twin sister, Frances, was always daddy's girl."
*
"That would be wonderful. Thank you." Slipping into the cab, she brushes down her jacket and skirt before giving the requesting the Bugle. She smiles to Freddie, and steps out, promising she'll be gone for a moment, before lightly jogging away and into the building. Five minutes, tops, and she returns, reclaiming her seat and shivering from the frosty grip of the chilled air outside. "Thank you. I have a brother myself. Bennett. He and I don't…get along very well, but he's my brother, so what can you do? I never knew my father, but I love my mother very much. Mothers deserve good sons."
*
"I'm very fortunate to have both my parents still with me," Freddie tells her with a smile when she rejoins him in the cab after dropping off the bottle of whiskey, "But they're not local. And my sister decided to stay closer to home." He appreciates her sentiment on her mother, "And yes, mothers hold our hand through childhood but have our hearts for the rest of our lives." He then gives the taxi driver directions to the restaurant, "And I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Frances and I were closer…what seems to be ages ago but I got the adventuring bug, wanting to come to New York while she decided to stay behind."
*
"That shouldn't strain your relationship too much. Everyone gets a case of wanderlust every now and then." Betty confides, slipping her arm under Freddie's own, and linking the two as they had been when walking. "I haven't seen my home town in ages. I wonder how much it's grown over the years." A pause, "You said you're not local, right? Where do you come from? I'm a Philly girl myself. And you'll have to regale me with all your adventures and exploits."
*
"A very far away place that's not very easy to get to. Not a big city like New York," Freddie tells her, not getting into specifics when she asks where he comes from, "I doubt you've ever been there, so it's not worth mentioning." He moves on, preferring to talk more about her than himself, "And Philly…I've never been there myself. I've been to Chicago, Los Angeles in some of my travels to track down antiquities but never to Pennsylvania. Is it very much like New York?" He's curious to hear all about it, "I hear they have the best cheese steaks." He pauses as the cab slows to their destination and then pays for their ride, getting out of the cab first so he can then help Betty out.
*
Betty follows, offering the cabbie a tip and a kind wave in parting. Back with Freddie, she moves along side him, entering the eatery, and removing her jacket upon request. Handing it over to a coat clerk, she gives a small wiggle to make sure her dress is down where it should be, and rejoins Freddie as they head to their table. "That sounds mysterious. A far away land with no name?" She chides with a playful smirk on her ruby lips. "I'll get the name from you sometime, I'm sure. Philly is a bit smaller than New York, but I'm surprised you've never visited there. It's very rich with history, especially centering around the Revolutionary War and America's beginnings." Then she giggles, "You bet we have the best cheese steak! I adore them, even if I don't care for onions."
*
Fandral hands over his coat to the coat clerk, making sure to tip the host generously when he mysteriously finds them a reservation even though Freddie didn't call ahead, "Oh it has a name." He gives her a teasing wink as they follow the host to their table. Rather than allowing the man to seat her, Freddie takes the honor and murmurs in her ear, "Asgard." And then moves to take his own seat, watching her expression to see if she recognizes the place.
*
Elizabeth glances away at the whisper, her eyes down as she concentrates on the information provided. Still, in her chair, she glances up and follows the blonde as he takes his own seat. Eyes wide, she seems rather stoic at first perhaps at a loss of what to say. "You're not joking, are you?" She whispers at first, before giving her seat a small scootch forward and resting her arms on the table's top, loosely crossing them. "They've been in the news as of late. Battles with Ice Giants and the rest. I remember telling someone it was Ragnarok, but…I'm glad it wasn't." A smile, then a giggle, she lowers her head and shakes it before glancing across to Freddie, one hand reaching up to tuck away sweeps of brunette behind the shell of her ear. "I go out for a drink and am kissed by a god. Take that, Stacey Dinnings."
*
"No…I am not kidding," Fandral assures her as he sits back and is grateful that she doesn't freak out when he tells her his origins, "Freddie is a convenient lifestyle so that I don't attract too much public attention like some of my brethren." He is glad that she doesn't make a big deal about it, "Fandral is my Asgardian name…I use Freddie for my friends here." He gives a wink, "It's a lot easier than being called Freyr, the name your people first called me in times when the Norse transversed the seas seeking adventure." Yes, he's much older than he looks, "And I can assure you that everything I've told you up to this point is the truth. I do have a twin. She is home with my parents. And I unfortunately have not been lucky in love despite having many lifetimes to achieve it."
Fandral adds after a long pause, "And I might have been worshipped as a god by certain cultures, but I can assure you I'm very much a man…just longer living than what you're used to."
*
"Fandral." She echoes, and then continues with, "Freyr…I know that know. Your sister…Freya?" Sitting back, she nods now and then, but her brows furrow briefly. "I'm sorry, my Norse Mytho…well, I guess it's not so much myth anymore, is it? Well, it's lacking and I'm forgetting my stories. Which might not all be true." A pause, "I'd love to know the truth, though." She admits contently. "Well, perhaps you haven't found the right girl, Freddie. And to most of us, those that can do nothing special, all things are gods. I'm sure you're more than a handsome face in a plush tux." She winks, breaking conversation once their waitress has arrived. Once done, she focuses on him once more, seeming to study his features carefully. "What should I call you? What name would you prefer?"
*
"Freyja…not Freya. It's a subtle difference in pronunciation," Fandral tells her with a smile as she mentions that she knows something of Norse mythology, "And no…not all the stories about me are true. Some are gross exaggerations. And I don't claim any godhood. Thankfully, I've matured past the point of needing worshippers." He shakes his head and it's clear he's made mistakes in his past, "It's a very long tale and not all of it very pleasant. But I suppose one must lose before you can appreciate the world around you." He stops when the waitress arrives and then makes his order for steak, potatoes and veggies. Very simple but flavorful. He waits for Betty to order, "And I prefer Freddie. That's who I am now."
*
"Oh, Frey-ja. Sorry." She corrects herself after mimicing the sound Freddie provides. Her own dish if one of meats and greens, very similar to Freddie's own. Once alone again, she rests back in her seat and sips at some water that was provided to them. "I love stories, and I love the truth. I don't…tell many people this, but I'd love to be a reporter myself some day. Maybe you'll allow me an interview? The chance to tell the world about your and your kind? Maybe they won't be so afraid if they knew how kind you are, even to someone like a girl from Philly." Smiling, she nods once more. "And Freddie it is."
*
"I don't know if I could grant an interview at this time," Fandral admits to Betty, a little surprised that she wants to be a reporter but not put off by it, "My contact with Asgard has been interrupted and my current charge is out of contact." He motions to himself, "I'm just a guard…not one of the Odinsons so I can't make such decisions. And while I've spoken to a few here…I don't really wish to put myself in the public eye." He smiles as the waitress comes and brings them a bottle of wine. He chooses red since they're having steak, "And I'm not doing our dinner out of kindness…I really like you Betty. You're easy to talk to." His smile widens as he teases, "And an excellent kisser."
*
"I don't care what your position is. I think knowing there are differences is important to the reader. Just some…understand that they shouldn't be afraid just because it's new." She explains, a hint of passion in her voice breaking through. "I understand, though, and I don't mean to be pushy. You'll never be named, should you change your mind." Sitting up, she watches the wine being poured and holds up her hand gently when her glass is filled enough for her. Swirling it gently, she eyes over at the blonde and giggles, giving him the lightest of 'tap-smacks' on his arm. "Oh, you. Flattery is better than gold, they say."
*
"Not be named? What kind of interview would it be?" Fandral asks Betty, feeling a little more at ease at the idea of interviewing if his personal life is not connected, "I might be able to speak to things…if it would not be harmful to my people. Understand…our role here on Midgard…your Earth, is meant to be one as protectors. Guardians that protect your world from interruptions of the nine realms. What happened with Loki…that was never meant to happen. I don't know all the details because I had fallen ill around the time that it occurred and was not there when these events passed." He gives a laugh as she lightly smacks his arm, "And it is easy to flatter you…" He takes her hand and lightly kisses it, "Don't discount just how unique and refreshing you are."
*
"A simple one. Question and answer, with anything omitted you don't agree to. I'd rather you be comfortable, and truthful. Don't upsell something to save face." She requests and then nods gently as he explains himself. "I'm sorry to hear you were ill. I didn't know your kind could be. That's very interesting. I'm also not sure what people expect from, well…a trickster God." Pausing, she leans closer. "He is still a trickster, right? That wasn't wrong in the stories?" Looking at her hand, she pulls it away and gently peels the fabric of her glove away. Exposing soft pink nails, she offers it back and blushes. "Here, try that again."
*
Fandral nods when she asks if Loki is a trickster, "Yes…he can be the trickster, but there is more to Loki than just his mercurial nature. He was a man of knowledge who studied the mysteries of the universe. And while he was not always on the side of right, he was passionate in his dealings. I have always liked him, even when I had to assist his brother, Thor, in reigning him in." He pauses as their steaks arrive and he waits for the server to leave before continuing, "And my illness was one I brought upon myself. A friend was in pain, hollowed by a foul spell and I tried to interfere and only succeeded in almost killing myself." He points to himself, "So…noble intentions but not the wisest course." He then watches her remove the glove and then carefully takes her hand and this time turning it over so his lips can touch her wrist. His is gentle and caring and he does his best to mute his abilities so it's just a simple gesture.
*
Elizabeth listens, her eyes settling on his features all the while, only offering a glance once their food arrives. "I call it noble. Stupid, perhaps, but noble, and you lived to see another day, so…you're a hero." At the new kiss, she shivers in her seat and pulls her hand away, brushing at her hair nervously as her fingers work on setting out her napkin and taking up her cutlery. "You have rough hands." She notes, finally feeling them bare against her own. "What else do you do, besides protecting our odd little world, romancing through the ages, and dealing in antiques?"
*
"I serve as one of the personal guards to the Odinsons…so I have served all three brothers, including Loki at some time," Freddie admits to Betty, "So…I am skilled at the sword. An outdated weapon from my understanding of your current technology. However, the art of fencing is apparently alive but as a past time and not as one's method of defending oneself." He thinks for a moment and then tells her, "And I sometimes serve as advisor with other cultures. I do well with others, so sometimes I'm called upon to act as a diplomat." He tones it down after she pulls her hand back, "And I don't use my abilities often…because I don't like interfering with the natural order."
*
"Three of them?" She inquires, her head canting as she focuses on Freddie, only glancing down to pick at her veggies and nibble from them politely. "Oh, fencing is beautiful. I've seen it a couple of times, on the TVs at the electronics store. Do you teach? Maybe I can pester you for a lesson sometime." She beams, eats, and nods again. "Heroic, brave, skilled, and diplomatic. All those girls never knew what they were missing out on." She winks, and pauses to sip from her wine. "I wonder what happened in the bar then. I enjoy mysteries, especially when they allow me to meet someone new and interesting."
*
"In truth…I was compelled by powers not of my own," Fandral admits to her, "But…I was pleasantly surprised to find that I didn't mind the manipulation." He gives a shrug, "I don't know the source exactly but suspect it was another with powers who sought to embarrass me." He then makes a point of telling her, "In truth…the attraction was already there. I just…" He gives a rueful look, "Was pushed a little." He shakes his head, "Even being old as I am, I am not immune from the abilities of others."
*
"I wonder if it was that odd man who left in a tizzy." Betty ponders, finally cutting into her steak and sampling a slice. A soft moan of enjoyment hums behind her lips, as he eyes light up and she looks down at her plate. "You weren't pulling my leg, Freddie. This is fantastic. Remind me to take you up on dinner every time you offer." Glancing his way, that smile returns, soft and poised, but appreciative. "You have many layers, Freddie. I'll be more than happy to discover them all if you let me." Reaching for her glass, she offers it up to him in a toast. "To new friends, and freak chances." Should he lift his glass, she makes the two connect with a melodic 'ting'.
*
Fandral reaches out to connect the glasses and then tells her, "To new friends and serendipity. I was not looking to meet you but I am glad that I did." He lowers his glass and tells her, "And I do hope this is the first of many dinners in our future." Because the young lady from Philly has caught the jaded Asgardian's eye. It appears his interest is not feined at all.
*