12.26.3013: As Promised
Summary: Klaudea takes Lincoln to a fancy steak and champagne dinner as she promised she would when she was in the hospital… complete with blue cocktail dress that shows a lot of leg, the make wagers, and both win/lose, depending on your point of view.
Date: A few days a could weeks ago
Related: None
Klaudea Lincoln 


Fancy Restaurant, Fancy Pool Hall
Basic descs in log
26 December, 3013

As promised, Klaudea finally sends Lincoln a message on his tablet to set up a date for meeting him and gives him the name and address of a fancy place in Landing, no less. It's got white table cloths, plenty of space between tables, and crystal sparkles on the tables. The place settings have an array of utensils to both sides, and cloth napkins fantastically folded on the serving plate. The maitre d' leads them to a table off to the side, and pulls out the chair for Klaudea, but leaves for Lincoln to push it in.
As for Klaudea herself, even if Lincoln didn't remind her, she did wear the fantastic cocktail dress with the blue and the legs that are a bit more muscular and toned that most female legs. She wears modest sandal heels with it, rather than sky high ones, so she's still fairly short. Her hair has been simply pulled back to the nape of her neck, her bangs wave loosely back from her face.

Lincoln's dress appropriately. He cleans up nice, is there on time, and is wearing one of the latest styles of black tie wear. He'll nod his thanks to the maitre d' and pushes Klaudea's chair in. "You weren't kidding when you said fancy." There's a definite humor in his voice.

Klaudea couldn't help giving a little whistle when she saw Lincoln waiting for her, adding a little grin with it. "Nope. I promised you a steak dinner with champagne," speaking of which, she nods to the magnum in the decanter ready for him to uncork, or else wait for their server to uncork. "This place has the best of both, and you deserve the best for taking good care of me." Okay, so she's laying it on thick, but it's all in good fun. "Besides, when you're a famous actor, this will all become old hat to you, and you'll be begging to go to Quintas Hombres again."

Lincoln flashes her a bright smile, he knows he cleans up decent. A good chunk of his clients ask for him spiffified up. Sitting down himself, "That's true. A promise is a promise." He'll let out laugh, "I doubt this will ever become the norm for me." He looks comfortable enough in this setting though. He'll nod his thanks again as the champagne is being poured.

Looking at the server, Klaudea listens attentively to the specials, and takes her menu when it's handed to her with a quiet 'thank you'. She pulls her napking into her lap and takes a sip of champagne before opening the menu and looking it over.

Looking at the server, Klaudea listens attentively to the specials, and takes her menu when it's handed to her with a quiet 'thank you'. She pulls her napking into her lap and takes a sip of champagne before opening the menu and looking it over. "This isn't the kind of place where we can split an appetizer, though. So, you have to order your own."

Lincoln listens intently to the server. He'll take a sip as well, and nods, "Yeah…not so much. If you wanted to share, we should have probably gone somewhere else." He'll grin, looking down at the menu. His eyes go over the words, not even trying to read them. He'll order a stand by, that's safe. He'll look up at Klaudea and smile smaller, but more honestly, "You look pretty."

Klaudea gives him a puzzled glance when he orders, having ordered an appetizer and a special chicken with prawns. The compliment receives a smile, and a little pink in the cheeks as she blushes, but this time it seems more of a pleased kind of expression, rather than actually embarassed. "Thank you," she says. "I don't really dress up often. I don't know why, I guess maybe because I spend so much time getting all sweaty and wearing armor… but I feel kind of silly in a dress. Like… I'm trying to be someone else."

Lincoln raises an eyebrow, "So…Like you feel you can't be both? People are complex. We have so many different sides, no one can really be labeled as one thing." He'll shrug, but is giving her that lopsided grin he gets, "You can be a warrior and wear a dress." His smile gets ever goofier, "I do all the time."

Klaudea raises an eyebrow. "How do you manage to pull off the warrior?" she asks him curiously, grinning as she picks up her champagne for a sip. Then she lifts her bare shoulder. "I just… spend a lot of time /not/ wanting to be like my mother and father, I guess."

Lincoln grins, shaking his head, "Secrets, Klaudea. I can't give away all my trade skills." With a tilt of his head, "I'm sure your folks have some good qualities. Just try to focus on those."He'll sip his glass and nod, "You did good, with picking this out.Or did the waiter?"

Klaudea smiles. "I picked it out," she tells him and lowers her eyebrows in puzzlement. "They're not bad, and I love them. It's not like I hate them, or anything. But…" One hand indicates the restaurant around them. "/This/ is not one of their good traits that I really wish to emulate." Her hands drop to fiddle with the napkin in her lap, as she still has manners, even if she doesn't particulary like the circumstances for which she's learned to use them, so she doesn't lean on the table. "They love me, and they want to give me the best of everything. That's what is good about them."

Lincoln nods, "Good job." Linc gives a small laugh, "You have parents. Stressful as that is. Rook's wanting to try to track down our dad…I think having folks that make you know how to pick out the right champagne is an ok trait." He'll watch her fiddling with the napkin, "That's nice. Nothing wrong with parents that love ya." Giving her an out, "Any word on Sir Thalo yet?"

Klaudea shakes her head, "no. Except that all the stuff they give you comes from doing almost everything you are against. I'd easily sacrifice the dress and the meal with champagne in order for the drone operators to earn a higher wage," she points out. But then he changes the subject, which brings a little wince, and a worried expression. "He went to Lazarus Island, he isn't back, yet."

Oh…it's gonna be one of those evenings. Deciding it's best to not get into the whole making the world better discussion, he lets it go. Linc will grimace as well, and then apologizes, "Sorry. Have you messaged him yet?" He'll finish off his glass.

Klaudea shakes her head. "Can't get a message to him. They had to disable the Waygate, so they're in the middle of the ocean on a boat. I think they're probably keeping the signal free for really important messages." She gives a shrug, "he's The Wall. I'm sure he's fine."

nodding, Linc doesn't know a lot of the details, but had heard about the way gate."That sucks. Well…maybe just have a message ready to send as soon as you can then." He shrug, "Yeah, but even walls need patches, can't hurt to let him know you're worried and care." He'll smile softly, he's trying to be helpful. "Anythign new going on? Figure out how to slop things from blowing up yet?"

Klaudea gives a little grin. "Yeah. We'll see," she agrees. "I'll probably just have to fix his armor." At the mention of figuring things out, she gives a shrug. "I think I've figured out how to disable certain detonators, and I found a diagram of one that looks similar to what we saw… and I saw that disagreeable man again, too." She gives a frown of distaste, and reaches forward to pick up her glass and wash him away with a sip of expensive champagne.

Lincoln snorts, "Armor. I hated that. Too hard to move around in, if you ask me." Cause apparently Linc's been in armor? He'll nod about the detonators, "Crackerjack. It's a start, right? Really? What did he say this time? or did you even talk to him?" Linc would offer to go have words, but somehow he doesn't think Klaudea would want that.

Klaudea shrugs. "Wanted to tell me again how he knows that everything I'm doing is wrong, and what he would be doing to me if he was Sir Thalo," she tells him. "Told me I wasn't going about showing my contrition to Sir Thalo properly, and then tried to tell me what to do, and to stop being rude to him." She snorts and shakes her head. "He still hasn't told me his name, so I flat out told him that makes me doubt he has the rank to tell me what to do and to have a good day because I was leaving."

Lincoln laughs, "Good. Even if he does have the rank, by not telling you, he's forfeited that right. Screw 'em." He'll lean back in his seat and look Klaudea over some, "Where are you bumping into him, anyway?" His smile grows some, "i really do like the blue on you. It fits your personality." And then the waiter comes with her appetizer. He ordered a huge steak, so he just has a salad to start with.

Lincoln's laugh brings an answering smile from Klaudea, and she looks a little brighter. She leans a little closer towards the table, and Lincoln. "The first time was at the gym. Today was in the commercial district on the way to the gym. I guess he likes working out on Volkan. Although, today, he looked like a stiff breeze might blow him over for all his size." She looks as the lobster tail with wasabi is set down in front of her, and then across to Lincoln. "Would you like to try some?" The compliment is received with a still bashful smile and a thank you.

"Well, maybe you need to just work out somewhere else then?" Linc raises an eyebrow, still not exactly sure what their doing. This kinda feels datish…"Sure, who am I to turn down free tastes?" He'll lean forward, but will let her indicate if he should stick his fork over there, or what. He knows his etiquette. He only grins broader at her bashful smile. "You know, you could probably do more good with that smile, working with the notice org, than anything else. Honey catches more flies…"

Klaudea cuts off a piece of the lobster tail and dresses it with the wasabi and garnish, the pushes it to the edge of her plate so he can take it with his own fork, then she sets about cutting her own bite. "If I could work for the Notice Project, I would," she says quietly. "But my father has made it clear that I am not engage in such foolishness. So, I will have to work through… Brother Shadow and Mistress Storm for right now." She manages not to sound bitter about her father's view on the Lady Reena's project.

Lincoln smoothes his face out. He's not even going to ask. This whole cloak and dagger thing really bothers him, but not for the reason's he thinks Klaudea thinks. So instead he'll smile and fork the piece of lobster. After tasting it he'll laugh, "I chose poorly."

Klaudea chuckles. "Well. Maybe next time you'll actually read the menu instead of just skimming over it to find your steak and calling it good," she teases. "I saw you pretending to read it, but you were actually just checking off 'steak? nope, next. Steak, nope, next'." She makes little checkmarks in the air as she demonstrates her assumption of how his brain was working when he looked at the menu.

Shit. He needs to get better at that. The thespian smooths his face, "Hey. I know what I like. No need to take chances, when I can steal tastes off of your plate!" He'll give her a cheesy smile and change the topic as he digs into his own salad, "So what's the plan for tonight, stuff me with good food? Anything else? Am I teaching you how to dance?"

Now it's Klaudea's turn to pause, although she isn't a good enough actor to cover it. The bite finishes traveling to her mouth and she chews and swallows before she replies. "You just want to keep me in debt and owe you another dinner," she surmises. "After you recover from your broken toes, I'll need to bring you out for more lobster and steak."

Lincoln laughs, eating more of his salad, "You don't have to. It's just an offer." He'll shrug, "I've danced with broken toes before. Not impossible." He'll grin, "I just figured you'd want to make Ma Blackfells happy." He'll give her an eyebrow quirk and then sip on his champagne.

"Mama despaired of me ever being the belle of the dance floor when I was ten," Klaudea tells him with a chuckle. "Even the dance teacher told her I was a hopeless case. Though," she considers as she takes a bite. "You could probably retire for life on the reward she'd give you if you succeeded."

Lincoln grins at the image. "Well….I don't know about retiring, but I can send her a bill." He'll let out a soft sigh, still smiling, but the mention of a bill reminds him of work drama. Trying to stay on happy topics, "So…is there a dance place near here?"

Klaudea nods. "You'd also want to consider changing your identity to hide from my old dance teacher. He can be a mite annoyed when someone proves him wrong." She gives a shrug. "There's a couple. And a couple of pool halls…" she glances to him a little sideways. "Do you play pool as well as you play cards?"

Lincoln gives her a cheesy grin, "I have enough enemies, a dance instructor would be an awesome addition. He can challenge me to a dance off. Much better than fist fighting." Another sip of champagne and a tilt of his head, "You think I play cards well? Would you rather go play pool than dance?" It's an honest question.

Klaudea raises her eyebrows. "You'd be surprised what tortures the man can come up with," she tells Lincoln good naturedly. The suggestion of pool rather than dancing is greeted with such a relieved look that it's almost comical. "Much rather."

Lincoln shakes his head, but laughs, "SOme how I don't think Ma Blackfells would approve of a pool hall. Especially dressed in such a dress. I mean, I often play billiards in my finest, but will you be able to shoot in that?" He'll let out a soft over the top sigh, "one day, I'm gonna find someone who likes to dance." The waiter comes by to take the salad bowl away. Linc gives him a thankful smile.

Placing her knife and fork down just moments before the waiter arrives, Klaudea lays her hands in her lap. "I'm not sure where I'm planning on taking you fits into your normal preconception of a pool hall. You'll see fancier dresses than this there… and quite a few women using them to their advantage." There's a little wink. "People with money are generally not known for even considering 'playing fair' when it comes to pool. With them, all's fair in love, war and pool."

Lincoln's intrigued. "OK. I can dig it." He'll smirk, "So does that mean you're going to be trying to swindle me? I didn't budget for gambling tonight." Their main courses are set in front of them. Still smirking, "Should I slow down on the drink then?"

Klaudea shakes her head. "You're new. You're my partner… who hasn't played much pool before," she tells him, giving him a wink. "So, you better be the one doing the swindling, my friend." There's even a bit of a mischief gleam of anticipation in her eye.

Lincoln nods, "Oh…I see. So I'll be the one with the black eye by the end of the night." He doesn't seem to put off by the idea. "I don't swindle. I win." Now there's a twinkle in his eye, "But, it's no fun unless we've got something on the table. What's your ante?" He'll smirk and start in on his steak, a small lock of his hair finally escapes to hang in front of his eyes. It doesn't take away from his look, but adds a boyish hint to it.

Klaudea tilts her head to the side, then she grins to him. "Why do you think you're my partner. I know well enough to go up against you, I'd lose pretty much anything I put up." She winks, and reaches for her champagne. "But no, no black eyes. I'll make sure no one damages the pretty face."

Lincoln shakes his head,"Nope. Ante. Now, or I chose what it is." He'll grin around his fork. He'll snort, "Not that I don't appreciate the protection, but I'd hate for you to ruin the dress. I'll take the black eye. I'll just add it to the growing tab of dinners you owe me."

Klaudea eyes Lincoln with a little bit of confusion, but then she shrugs and in the spirit of things tells him, "well, you'll have to choose the ante then. And tell me what we're betting on when we get there." After that, their meal arrives, and they eat, drink, and hopefully Lincoln's skill in small talk keeps the conversation light about movies and the latest infosphere gossip. The pool hall itself is only about a five or ten minute walk away, giving them a little time to digest their food before she stops in front of a door opened by a door man, and they step inside.
What greets their eyes is similar to what one might expect to see when they walk into a casino. People in formal clothes, jewelry sparkling, and servers with trays make their way among the green covered tables. Although, instead of cards, round, brightly colored balls are being nudged across the surface, the crack of the balls connecting heard incessantly through the din of laughter and chattering.

Lincoln grins as they walk it. He can work with this. he'll lean in slightly, "I will bet a back rub that you get hit on." He'll look down at her, smirking. "Unless you can come up with something better?" During the walk, he loosened the top of his tunic, just slightly. He still looks dapper, but more relaxed now. His bangs are hanging some in his eyes, giving him the appearance of being younger than he is.

Klaudea raises an eyebrow as she looks at him. "Depends, am I giving the back rub, or getting the back rub?"

Lincoln raises an eyebrow back, "I'd give one. But I'm the judge. And what are you gonna put up, and for what?" He'll laugh, "Unless you think my back rubs are subpar?" He'll let her lead, as she seems to know the place.

"Well, if you're giving one," Klaudea says, she reaches up and takes out the barrettes that hold her hair up, and shakes it down. "You're on." With a wink of her hazel eye, she lets her wavy hair fall down around her shoulders. "Unless you're going to make the bet more difficult by saying the guy has to be completely sober or something…" she walks over to the counter and lays down her card to pick up a tray of balls and a table number. Returning to him, she gives a tilt of her head towards the floor.

Lincoln grins, "Nope. But I am the judge. And Now what are you offering? You get to be the judge for that."He'll laugh, shaking his head as she gets the stuff so they can play. He'll offer to take the tray from her and lets her lead him to their table. "What do you wanna play? 8 ball?"

Klaudea handing over the tray, she gives a little laugh. "The judge of what? Whether or not I'm really being hit on? I'm not so sure about this, anymore. That's not a very definitive standard." Her voice is still light, though and she glances around the room as she tries to decide on a bet, stopping at their table. "8-ball is fine," she agrees. "Just, don't beat me up too badly…" she gives him a wink before her eyes turn to likely challengers in the room.

Lincoln grins and will start setting up the balls, "I'm fair. That's what usually gets me into trouble." He'll chuckle, "Light game, I promise. We should play a game or two first. Stop sizing up the room. If there's players here, they'll come to us." He'll smile, "Trust me."

Klaudea grins back to Lincoln. "Oh, I know they'll come. I'm just trying to see if I know anyone. The guy in the corner, that's his table. He's /always/ there. He's called the newlywed trap. Do you want me to pick a cue for you?" She's not procrastinating or trying to distract Lincoln from the fact that she hasn't put up her bet, yet.

Lincoln shrugs about picking his cue, "Sure." He's not spoiled enough to be picky. If he was, he'd have his own stick. "Newlywed trap, huh? Why for?" He'll not pouch for the bet yet, instead he'll set the balls. "you wanna break, or should I?"

Finding a couple of good cues, Klaudea hands one over to Lincoln. "You go ahead. Because, he somehow manages to sucker the newleywed types. You know, the ones who come to Landing to experience the big city for their honeymoon? They're probably pretty good back in their own little towns, and he's just got that friendly type of banter and always seems to have 'beginner's luck' whenever he plays these people."

Lincoln nods, "Nice." He'll roll the stick in his hand a moment, not quite testing it (But he is). He'll step around, stretching his arm slightly. He'll bend over, takes a moment, then breaks. It's nothing fancy, in fact he doesn't even sink any balls. But it does give a nice spread. "You chickening out on the bet thing?" He'll give a fake pout, "And here I though my back rubs were good enough that you'd want to try."

"Maybe I think I already have it in the bag," Klaudea offers with a grin. "I mean, if you're giving me a backrub if a guy hits on me… there's gotta be some single guy here who's going to have too much to drink and more libido than sense…" she moves around the table, glancing for her options, before she sinks a couple of the balls that he laid out so well, then just misses the one with a lot of green on the way.

Lincoln scoffs, "Well, sure, but the bet's not on till I get my half." He'll move around the table, looking at the set up she's given him, "Maybe I should demand a back rub."He'll bend over and sink a ball, the crack is loud. "unless you can come up with something better?" He misses the next one, but is watching her out of the corner of his eyes and smirking, so maybe that's an honest miss.

"Oooooohhhh," Klaudea muses. When he wonders if she can think of something better, she gets a little pink and reaches for the chalk, becoming very busy with making sure the cue is perfectly covered with the fine blue grit. "Um…" she glances around the hall, searching for inspiration.

Lincoln grins and will lean casually against his stick while he watches her. The little mental score board in his head tally's up a point for getting her to blush. She may have friend zoned him, doesn't mean he can't keep a tally of that though. "I think you've got enough chalk on there…" He's giving her that bright almost contagious smile that's hard to fight. "We can call the bet off, if you're not comfortable…"

Klaudea gives a little huff and tosses the chalk off to him walking around to sink the ball he missed. "It's not the comfortable," she tells him quite 'primly'. "It's just that when it comes to being picked up, you have an advantage. You have more confidence that people are going to want to be with you, and it's attractive." She leans on the pool table, her stick cradled on the webbing of her thumb as she considers the table. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean I'm blind to your attractions." Her face does redden a little again at the admission, and she bends down to take another shot, her hair spilling onto the table next to her. "So, I have to think of something different that I'm pretty sure you can't win, because even though I'm willing to give you a backrub, I'd much rather receive one."

Lincoln'll catch the chalk, giving her a wink. An eyebrow quirks up, but he'll not interrupt her as she talks and shoots. His face sobers up some as she flushes again. "You do realize that it's not me. They want to be with someone, anyone. But it's not me specific." There's an odd underlying tone to his voice, although his face stays smooth. He'll shrug, eyes going to the table, eyeing the spread.

Klaudea miscues the ball and looks up to Lincoln. "If you're going to call Bull- on me, then I call it on you," she tells him. There is actually a pause as she doesn't say the word implied after 'bull'. She stands back to let him go after she missed. "Everyone wants someone, but that doesn't mean they'll just take anyone. I wouldn't take that blonde with a tan that didn't come from any sun that shines on Imperius and spends hours in the gym building muscles he doesn't actually know how to use." The description she rattles off matches one of the other men at the Nirvana that usually lounges in one of the chairs playing on his tablet when there isn't anyone for him to talk into going upstairs. "People make requests for reasons. They want something you have." She's not accusing, she's making an observation based on how she sees the world.

Lincoln shakes his head, "You're misunderstanding me. I didn't mean that I wasn't what they were asking for. But wanting what I can do for them isn't wanting me. That's different." He'll lean over and take a shot, sinking two balls. He's not focusing though, which might be while he just slipped and did better. "I'm not whining. Or , at least, I wasn't trying to sound like I was, sorry. I just meant… Being requested is about what I can do, not who I am. No one asks for me because I'm a struggling actor. They don't ask me about my day and really want to know. They request me because I'm good at my job." He'll shrug again, taking another shot.

Klaudea shakes her head. "No, not whining. But you're not at the Nirvana here. I was just using him as an example because well…" she grins. "He's an example of my 'never in a million years' kind of guy. Like that one two tables down, with his hair perfect and clothes that he probably bought today because he can't wear the same thing twice and has had his teeth whitened two hours ago." He may not be paying attention to how well he's playing, but she is. "Point is, even here, not when you're /trying/, you're good looking and you move with confidence and a certain amount of… grace, I'll call it. At least three girls have looked at you. One of them even gave me the once over to figure out what the connection is. Maybe some guys, too, but I don't know."

Lincoln snorts softly, "He looks like he left the tags on. Who the hell moves like that when they shoot, anyway?" Linc's grinning again. A common target is better than this topic. he didn't mean to start down this road. "And Randlin's not so bad. He's just still new to the trade, thinks he can impress with just looks. I keep telling him his tips would double if he'd learned to cook." Linc'll wrinkle his nose slightly and lean over to make another shot, clipping the edge and not pocketing the ball. He'll consider briefly making a joke about it only begin 3, but somehow that doesn't seem like ti would benefit his side of the discussion. "Hook ups aren't the same thing."

"The kind of guy that the newleywed trap thrives on," Klaudea grins back. She tilts her head to the side with a shrug. "True, but the fact still remains that the odds would be stacked against my by at least three if I made the same bet with the same with the same currency as you made with me." With only two balls left, she decides to go ahead and sink them, then leans back, her cue resting on the floor and her arms straight in front of her cradling it in her laced fingers.

Lincoln nods as she finishes up the game, "Nice." he'll tilt his head, "Well…only if you were trying to get one of them to flirt with you…." He'll raise an eyebrow giving her a smirk, "Not that I would mind, I'll share!" He'll lift a hand up, like he's already letting her have any woman that might come by to flirt.

Klaudea laughs as she starts taking balls out of the pockets to put them back on the table, looking to him. "No, I mean … " she gives a short laugh and shakes her head. "You are so generous." She leans over to settle the balls in the rack, then sets her cue aside to move the balls around to their proper places. "Okay, so you bet me that if one guy tried to hit on me you'd give me a back rub." She leans her palms on the table to either side of the triangle, looking over to him. "If you can manage to stay proposition free for one night, without resorting to obviously obscene behavior to keep them from coming onto you, the next time we hang out you can flirt as outrageously as you wish."

Lincoln nods, "Aye, that I am. The most generous on gentlemen." He'll flash her his trademarked Lincoln grin, "Another game?" He'll give her a mock glare, "Obscene behavior? I don't' even know what you mean! Gentlemanly, remember?" He'll bring a hand up to his chest, as if she was wounding him with her words, "Fine. But watch your words, woman. They cut deep." He'll narrow his eyes at her in an over the top dramatic glare, "I don't think you could handle my outrageousness." He does stop himself from saying what she could handle, as he's not wine the bet yet. He'll bend over and break, sinking a ball, and then another before missing the third. he's dark eyes do keep going up to look at her, before back down to the table to shoot.

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