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Rating: 3-3-3

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Canons: Open/Oc's Welcome!

Bans: Howard the Duck,
RPF* Real Person Fiction; IE Apping an actual celebrity

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Thread Contributor: Pete WisdomClosing Time Tag: Belle
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#41
“No, nothing wrong with it, but it’s a bit… empty, I know. I know people who could go on about what sort of fish they want in their three-acre koi pond and how they want to rule the world into economic security and social equality. Me? I just want to come home, have a drink, and have someone want to actually be there.” Of course, he didn’t suspect she had earth-shattering qualifications for her world, either, but she did have more in it than he did. She’d put more thought into it than he had.

When she defended him in relation to the rest of the population, though, he had to chuckle. “Luv, I drink a lot, I smoke, I have a Machiavellian streak regarding who lives or dies, I keep secrets without even thinking about it, and by some admittedly questionable accounts, I snore. I’m fairly sure that the skeletons in my closet could fill a mass grave at this point.”
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#42
“Everyone has a past-” her hand touched the hidden ring between her breasts. “What matters is how you live going forward.” Belle knew it was far too soon to say it but - “Ah don’t mind lies. Not so long as they are na about us.” the pink on her cheeks deepened painfully. “You are a man that deals with things that could mean survival for so many, o’course you have things ya can’t talk about.” Belle swallowed looking somber “But can i ask that you never lie to me for my own good? Ah think too many of my friends think i’m a little silly, can’t handle the things they do, or need doing. Ah-” she released his hand to cover her expression with a sip of tea. “Ah try not to mind, but it would be nice to know one person looks and sees an adult, and not something to be protected.”

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#43
“Heh. ‘For your own good.’ Can’t say I’ve ever bought into that line of rubbish,” Pete mused. “Usually, it comes down to ‘my life is a bit of a mess right now and I don’t want to admit it out loud to you.’ I can’t see how my life would get to even more of that state.” He picked up her hand, studying it carefully as he spoke, from the little signs of the care she took for her skin to the marks of burns and nicks from working in the kitchen a lot. He trailed his fingers over her palm and, turning his eyes up to hers, lifted it to his lips to casually kiss her fingers, then her palm, then her wrist.

“So do you think they think that about you, luv, or has anyone actually said it? Because honestly, I haven’t seen any signs that you’re silly, at least as far as I can tell.”

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#44
The sizzle zipping along her nerves flared, his lips were just that shade of rough that spoke of man, hard working, the tiniest hint of roughness gliding along a gentle embrace. Belle was a bundle of desires repressed under the cover of matronly care. Her sexuality had been awoken by a ghostly lover and now more than a year since she’d fallen asleep in a mans arms...her body was a easy fiddle to stroke.

“No-” Belle swallowed against the breathlessness of her voice. “They are too nice, ah only notice-” Belle half shrugged, “Ah don’t think everyone sees past...this-” belle’s eyes gestured to the diner. “Na to say they are mean or any such thing.” she quickly corrected to make it clear she didn’t blame anyone. “Everyone here is a god, wizard, super hero-” her lips quirked, toe nudging the inside of his calf - “Secret agent. What one silly little southern girl gonna know about what goes on really in their worlds? The choices and problems they have?”

Belle half smiled with a sigh, “They come for a slice of pie and to relax away from all that, and ah love them all, but i think sometimes they forget i’m a real grown up woman that-” her lips flattened out in remembered pain - “seen some things my own self.”

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#45
Pete wanted to press things further, he wanted to press them so badly, but he knew better. Not the time, not the place. Still, as he rested her hand back on the table, his fingertips brushed lightly every so often over the pulse point in her wrist, content to not let her hand go for now, though he wasn’t really doing anything to restrain her.

“That’s the thing, luv… everyone here isn’t a god or a wizard or some rubbish. Most people here are just people traveling, shopping, working…” That mischievous smirk touched his lips again. “It’s just that you don’t run with those crowds. You run with some rather exalted circles, and by all appearances, they all welcome you in with open arms. Maybe they worry a bit more about you, but maybe you’re projecting a little about how they see you. I mean…” He shrugged. “You don’t know what’s gone on in my life, aye, but that’s because most of it we haven’t talked about. I don’t think that there’s any of it you wouldn’t understand if I did tell you.” She had, after all, tried to make him into one of those people whose worlds she didn’t belong in, which he thought was rubbish. He smirked, nudging his leg against hers, too. “Tell me, how much have you really asked into their lives? Believe me, my job is to know as much of the rubbish that goes on here as I can, and most of the people here, from the wizards to the gods to the shopkeepers, look at their problems just like you would if you’d been thrown into another life.” He considered it for a second as he traced a tiny circle on her wrist with his fingertip. “Most, not all,” he admitted. “Some of the blokes here really are too odd.”
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#46
“Ya make it out that i'm some sort of elitist-” belle sounded less offended and more concerned, clearly mentally wondering if she’d fallen prey to some sort of unintentional bias...except she didn’t know who or what someone was before she approached them! Everyone that came into her dinner was treated the exact same, just some few needed more attention, called her to and engaged her, and in return Belle gave them what comfort she could.

“Some.” she admitted, “But-” Belle bit her lip trying to ignore the permanent high flush on her cheeks from his fingertips. “I think most like me because I don’t make them talk about the painful things, not unless they bring it up first. Pie, cup of tea, someplace to relax...i don’t mind being that person, everyone needs that place.” she realized she was contradicting herself but- ! “Never mind.” she deflated unable to explain her own convoluted mind.

“Not develing into the painful past is different than not sharing the present.” Was she being a bad friend? Belle frowned, examining her own interactions.

The introspective moment was broken by his leg nudging hers -

Belle slid forward, straddling his thigh, groaning at the pressure where she craved, buttons went flying, nails dragged down the exposed expanse of his chest, flicking over flat nipples, her thigh ground against him, body sliding up and down -

The mental image was there and gone in a eye blink, real and solid and leaving her -

Well yes.

Belle was glad that he wasn’t some sort of mind reader, there were things that just came over her that were just too embarrassing!

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#47
An elitist. Ha! “Luv, you are probably the farthest thing from an elitist snob I’ve ever met,” Pete mused. No, she hadn’t said ‘snob,’ but he had to make sure that it was clear he wasn’t giving her some sort of slight. “Look, I’m not going to go trying to give a lot of life advice here. There is no bloody way that I’m qualified to do much of that, with the way I’ve made a mess of most of mine. But people like that? All the… gods and heroes and agents and what not? They don’t need the same person all the time to not ask about their lives. Bloody hell, do you think I came here because I needed to whinge and be told that everything was all right?” He shook his head, and for just a moment his fingertip grew hot (noticeably, though not painfully) on her pulse. “There’s something about you, luv, something that makes people want to know you, be they man or monster or god. The only question is how to do that.” He shot her an amused, knowing look. “And when you go running off because it isn’t proper to start learning what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, it doesn’t make it easy.” The words were light, the tone teasing, but the point was clear, even if he wasn’t looking at it as a bad thing. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was just how it was.

The poor girl looked a bit flushed now, though, and Pete was wondering if he’d pushed too far. His hand closed around hers. “Nothing wrong with it. A little mystery is a good thing. I’m quite looking forward to finding out what makes our lovely Belle tick.”
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#48
‘They don’t need the same person to always Not ask about their past.’ She was doing a disservice to her friends wasn’t she? It seemed so. Oh lord she hoped they didn’t think her waiting for them to share showed as some way uncaring!

Pain panged her heart; right. She would make this right, make sure they knew she cared about them, loved each friendship with her whole heart.

Belle was pulled from her thoughts by the sudden warmth, she almost drew away, but it did not increase - “is it just your fingers?” She asked curiously, attention diverted for the moment.

Lord exhustion was making her act like a magpie! “So should I ask the lighter questions? Since I’ve been rude and asked the deeper first? Favorite color?” Her eyes sparkled with tired humor.

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#49
Pete got the idea from the inexplicable frantic look in her eyes that she was missing his point. No matter. She’d figure it out, or someone else would make the same point he had, or… well, she’d get it. Eventually. Probably after a few more hilarious sequences of misunderstanding, as these things usually went. Life just seemed to progress like that.

He glanced down at his finger as her attention was drawn there, and he shot her a smile that was full of possibility. “Care to have a look and find out, luv?” he teased. He did know better than to lay it on too thick with her, though. She was, after all, a good girl, and not being fixated on what was hidden (tantalizingly, deliciously, enticingly) under her clothes was how he’d gotten this far with her. “Yes, just my fingers. Hands too, I suppose, but the way I work, it’s just fingers.”

He wondered if he should cut this short any time soon. Time in the Hub was… odd, obviously, but the lady kept a demanding schedule, and should be sleeping now according to her all-work-no-play schedule. Then again… she was the mistress of her life. If she wanted, she could just keep the bloody place closed for a shift and rest up. “Orange, luv. And sometimes red. Now… let’s see, lighter questions…” He shot her a calculating gaze. “How well do you dance, luv?”

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#50
Now it was entirely possible she was making an unfounded assumption as to his insinuation - a slim eyebrow rose, blue eyes tracking downwards to where her gaze was halted by the table - “Ah rather hope so, might make things a tad uncomfortable otherwise.” Belle mentally tisked, if she wasn’t so tired she could have come up with a better innuendo/put down; something’s comparing him to the difference in the male cats member was swimming just out of reach.

“Colors of fire?” Her lips curled “- really?” Belle’s chin slipped to rest on her palm; the uncertainty, wariness had faded away leaving her simply companionably tried.

Startlement widened her eyes at the question - “Depends on the type I suppose.”

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#51
Yes, she really was looking like she’d need him to bugger off in the near future here. He felt mildly bad about that, but she also didn’t seem to be rushing him out the door, politeness or no. “Yes, fire colors, luv. I mean, I could be all secret agent and say ‘black and white,’ but I’m not that much of a stereotype. Well, not that stereotype, at least.” As always, he’d be damned if the words ‘shaken, not stirred’ would ever come out his lips.

He had the lady’s interest, and that told him his idea wasn’t falling on an unwilling subject. “Oh, the kind that involves us getting all dolled up, eating a five-star dinner at a candlelit table, and dancing to music played by musicians who’ve made their fortunes on at least three Earths. I suppose we could just say ballroom, but in this place, you always come up against something new you don’t really know how to dance to, aye?” He traced his fingers along her palm to her fingertips. “If you’re interested, that is, luv. I know you’re a busy woman, after all.”

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#52
Belle blinked.

And blinked again.

“Now?” Panic crawled at the back of her mind -

oh good lord what do i have to wear?? I need a shower-

Do I still have any of those energy supplements Dr. McCoy gave me-

Oh Lord my Hair!

I probably smell like fried things!

I need to find my good clutch-

Should I wear that tiara I got from the jewelry windfall? It is that too much??

My nails!!!


“Ah’d need some time to change.” Was all She vocalized of her frantic mental plans.


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#53
Pete couldn’t help laughing. This was just so her. “Oh bloody hell, luv,” he chuckled. “Of course not now. You’re exhausted and I’m not a prat. I was thinking more… oh, next week?” That should give her time to plan for it, right? “It’s not like I’ve had a chance to get reservations anywhere, after all, is it? That’s the problem with spur of the moment plans, aye?”

“So… how about next Friday, I come get you, we go have dinner, do a bit of dancing, and see how we feel about things at the end of the night?” Surprisingly, for Pete, that was spoken without a bit of suggestion in his voice… this time, at least. Some people could learn how to behave, apparently.
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