1965-02-20 - A Blind Date
Summary: Sawyer and Reno go on a date, cuteness ensues
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
sawyer reno 

*Sounds of birds chirping on the wire to "Ain't no birdie like a nervous birdie, cause a nervous birdie's gonna mooooolt!*

Ms. Sawyer had informed Reno that he was going to do to dinner with her and that he was going to accept and she was not going o take no for an answer. Reno Cordova might be of mixed heritage but the both his abuelas would warn that it is decidedly unwise to tell a woman no when she's got her mind decided on something.

Besides… he wanted to go.

He'd thought about this repeatedly over and over how the evening would go great aaaaand they'd get on aaaaand inevitably he'd never see her again. He was worried about how she'd find him, not that she was incapable, but he only trusted the city so far as he could perch on it. Hysterically he must have checked himself in the mirror four times and was fixing the hair again; black like blown back feathers really. It was a positively stupid gesture, not because she as without conventional sight, but because she asked him to go because she liked the conversation and company. The hard part was done.

"Deeeep breaths, Cordova. you can do this."

You never tell a lady no when she's got her mind decided on something and Sawyer's mind was decided from the moment the bird cuddled into her sweater. She knew she would find him somehow. All he needed to do was pay attention to her arrival and speak and she'd find him. Excellent hearing, she did have. She'd put on a dress, a little too short for how cold it was still outside, but just past her knees, covered in a rose pattern, the sleeves coming to her elbow, the collar moves off her shoulder on the left side, the same sweater tugged around her shoulders as she comes in from the outside. She'd had to stop and ask directions a couple of times, just because she wasn't completely familiar with the location, but she arrives on time, bringing her walking stick with her this time, which sticks out in front of her as she moves her way past the door, clutching her sweater to her with the free hand.

"Cuervo?" She calls for her bird by his birdie name as she enters, needing his voice to sound above the other noise for her to pull it out.

Reno wasn't far and had the decency to get up to meet her. He was nervous, but he was perhaps relieved? He wasn't sad about her showing up. "Oye, Sawyer. Wow you look like… amazing but you knew that. I um, we got a, um…. there's like this table. Aaaaand our stuff is on it." He pointed in what might be an utterly unhelful manner but he did it. He paused and took another deep breath and started all over again, "If you'd like to siddown I got us a table and stuff."

As soon as she hears his voice, a wide smile of recognition slides on to her face, made even wider by all his blustering. "Thank you. Dress was one of my mom's. I'll bet you do too, still not going to let me see you yet, pretty bird?" She teases him lightly and her smile softens when she can hear how nervous he is. "You can touch me anywhere our skin doesn't meet to guide me and I still won't be able to see as you do." She offers helpfully since he seems scared to help guide her to the table. She offers out her arm to him, fully sheathed in her sweater. "Thank you so much for getting us a table, Feathers."

Reno looped her arm to his and he considered, "Hey you can shake hands withthe waiter. He can see me right? Sides, I very rarely get to see myself runs out. You know without goin cross-eyed… or maybe have a mirror or somethin. I was like thinkin about that this afternoon closin up the shop." He pulled out the chair and let it make some noise so she knew where it was not rreally clear on protocol. Really he went with some common sense and really relied on her telling him what she needed from him as she was really comfortable doing that already.

Sitting to her right and not entirely across he offered, "Soemtimes they got some real great live music and is not the fanciest place but … ya know food's good, music's good. Comapny's good. I thought it'd be like ya know… good starting point."

"Still afraid I'm going to see what you do and get scared off, huh?" Sawyer notes when he offers her the waiter's eyes to borrow. How often do people shake hands with their waiter though? She guess there's no harm in trying when one comes around. She's grateful for the sound to let her know where the chair is as she tucks her dress beneath her and finds her way down to the seat easy enough. Propping her walking stick beside them on the table, not between them.

"The company I chose was perfect, I think. He's a good dancer, never runs out of things to talk to me about. I trust his choice." She flirts effortlessly, turning towards him so he has her full attention, even if unfocused eyes land somewhere right past her face. "The atmosphere is fantastic, Reno. You did good. Now tell me more about Reno. Besides he 'sees scary things, sometimes is a bird that likes to dance and thinks I'm pretty?'. What kind of shop do you have?"

Reno blushed and considered that with a chuckle. Reno offered really thinking about that, "Oooh about me? Ummmm Lessee Okay the shop? well right now? I'm runnin Pop's Barber shop right now in Harlem. Like, well… you know how barber shops is. Pops was this really groovy dude that felt like community is super important and stuff. Really easy for kids to get into trouble." He paused and hesitated but admitted, "Eeeeh trus' me I know. I knoooow, but ya know I did some dumb things growin up so like I get it, why is important and stauff?"

He was glad the coffee arrived so it'd force him to breathe between thoughts. "But like the place got super shot up and," The regret was open and profound, "And Pops was in teh shop at the time. So it was like… closed for a while. But mi primo and I? Ya knowmost our people live south a bit but even we was like this is important. Friend's got a bar nearbso I gave up my old job that gets me into trouble and wanted to do that instead. Ya know help some kids not do the dumb things I did. Also I'm a pretty damn fine barber. Turn out I really enjoy it."

Reno paused and asked her drinking his coffee actually grinning in spite of himself. "What about you? What'chu do to make the day go by? You librarian? Workin on dancin withthe theatre? Helping basketless old ladies how to macreme?" It was vague but he was genuinly curious there.

As the waiter places their coffee down, Sawyer's hand darts out to slip her fingers briefly over the waiter's own and there, the world suddenly fills with color and shapes, and the vision, the sight, it becomes so much louder than sound. She always has to talk herself down from flinching, from holding a hand out in front of her to shield herself from the brightness. Her eyes, the pupils appear, wildly dilating as they adjust to it all, but it's worth it, because in the center of her vision is Reno, a face she has a second to memorize his dark eyes, dark hair and the way it looked like blown back feathers, his tanned skin, the shape of his face. She squeezes the waiter's thumb for a second longer, dragging her hand down the cup to keep contact before she has to release him, before it gets strange.

All too soon, his face is stolen from her, but she's seen him. "You're just as pretty as I thought a prince would be and I didn't even have to kiss you." She says after he finishes talking, not daring to interrupt him when he had so much to say. His voice was a song she could keep on repeat. Her smile faltering a little because it does hurt a little, to lose the sight just as quickly as she'd had it.

"Your insides, and outsides, they match, even if you have done wrong in the past, you're a good man, Reno. I knew you were. Keeping kids out of trouble is great. My daddy says that the barber is the best therapist. Cheaper too" She says warmly, every word geunine.

She slaps a hand lightly on his knee. "How did you find out about my secret macareme gang? The Crafting Carnations will never die!" She teases and then shakes her head. "I want to /live/ on a stage. That's my end goal. Been dancing since I was four, the world's always playing music that I think I'm the only one that can hear."

Renohad a nervous smile, but also had no guile to his name and wore his emotions out in the open for better or worse. At teh compliment he laughed covering up his chest with a hand, "Oh noooo don't look at my insides. I had like bad heartburn earlier today." At least he could ablate the nerves with humor. Still he listened. Man in 1965 getting a gig as a performer was rough for any persons of colour much less a woman with altered perceptions.

"Maaaaan you hight he high bar on that. In a way though? I mean like good, ya know? My buddy's got a friend that is an usher at the Apollo. He got us like way good seats to see Tito Puente. SO good. I should take you some time if he comes back. But seriously if I learned anything from people ya know like someday find a show or make your own show. Find that music that speaks to you, let other people hear that. Gotta tell your story. That stuff is powerful. Besides, you're a relaly good dancer, I really enjoyed that. I can't do that stuff like you do buuuut, ya know, looks pretty fun." He knew his dancing. Ballet was way out of his field but the same could be said of pulling a mean paso double too.

Sawyer is trying hard not to pout because she wants to see him smile when he laughs, wants to see the way it touches his eyes. It jingles so prettily off his tongue that it has to touch his eyes. Her hand fidgets on her mug, desperate to just grab his hand, make him let her see him just one more time. That was what was terrible about the temporary high of the sight, you could get addicted quick. She pulls the mug up to her lips to take a drink for just something to do with her hands.

"Now, Feathers, I think you just asked me on another date." Sawyer says with a wide smile that takes over her desire to pout. "My own show? You think I could do that? Do you think people would come to see just me?" She considers this for a moment and then boldly tries to bring her eyes back to his face. "I know one thing, Feathers. I'd pay to see you just one more time."

Reno was quiet, but the tone was honest. This was a challenge. As a bird with exceptional eyesight this situation was quite his anthetesis. Talking with his hands a bunch was not going to help him here, not a lot. He faced her all the same when he spoke watching her face and the way her smile lit up her face. He flinchedfaintly blinking his eyes a couple times. Okay trumpeteer ghost coming in? Oh fun. Focus. on. the pretty lady, birb. THough that was a business decision and he really thought about that one, "Uhhhhh dunno! Can ask though. Prolly need like a whole show. LIke music and costumes and stuff. Shows should be showy. Or even teach or… make a new like genre and stuff. Hell travel to other worlds and share with them best of Earth. " He paused and boggled, "Weirdly I think I know a guy for that can hook you up." WOah, weird, but neat idea! intergalactic dance show?


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