Summary:Scott Summers and Zatanna Zatara share awkward and unprompted truths while on a quest to find the Best Pizza in New York City. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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So. A few days had passed. After all, Scott didn't want to seem too eager. Also, he had to cool off and just generally work himself back up to taking another shot at this. Truth was, he felt strangely guilty for not knowing who Zatanna Zatara was. In those few days, he had taken the time to watch some videos. Youtube clips, mostly. And after doing a bit of "research", and deciding that enough time had passed that he wouldn't look too eager or something, he doesn't call. He texts.
8pm. Meet me at 6424 14th Ave?
Followed promptly by:
This is Scott, btw. Summers. Pizza guy. Ice skates.
And now, Scott is sitting outside of the pizza joint, straddling a vintage Indian Chief motorcycle, circa 1945. Candy apple red, with cream white accents and black and chrome highlights. A nice restoration, but one that's still obviously in progress, judging by the duct tape on the seat, and a few pieces that show their age, despite the best care.
Scott himself is in a similar state. He looks like he's dressed up. Plaid shirt, in shades of blue, green, and yellow on white, buttoned up to the collar, which is, in turn, buttoned down neatly. A thin red tie adding a splash of contrast down his chest. The front is tucked in to a pair of dark navy denim pants, with pristine red and white Chucks peeking out underneath them. The ensemble is offset by the weathered and road worn brown leather jacket he's wearing, with red racing stripes around his arms and across the chest. His hair is mussed from wearing the helmet that is now resting on the seat behind him, and his face is adorned with those fully enclosed, ruby lensed glasses that he had been wearing when last he met Zatanna.
Zatanna is an easy person to look up, on a surface level. Searching for her on YouTube will produce not only her own channel, but the appearance on SNL's Weekend Update that she'd hinted at when she met Scott, doing magic tricks to synch with jokes about politicians. She has an Instagram, a Twitter, an official fan page on Facebook, and two specials for Netflix, with a third one supposedly slated for 2020. Her presence in all of this media doesn't seem terribly different from the woman Scott met at the ice rink. Charming, quick-witted, glamorous, able to pull her top hat down in such a way that it makes it look like her head is disappearing into it completely…
Scott sends his texts, and then there's a three minute wait. The response from Zatanna arrives in three parts, back to back to back:
Knew who it was lol
It's a date
(winky emoji)
Zatanna arrives after Scott. She's punctual, but not early. She's kitted out all in black, with a black peacoat, black boots, black fishnets (visible on the tops of her calves, between coat ending and boots beginning), and a black knit cap that keeps her hair back out of her face. She looks much more normal than her feather-decorated skating outfit, but 'normal' remains a purely relative term.
"Hey there!" she says when she spots him, raising a hand in a wave and breaking into a grin. "I'm so glad you texted!"
Scott spots her as soon as she arrives. It's hard to miss that. As soon as his rose-tinted gaze falls on her, he feels his breath catch in his chest, caught there for a moment by the sudden appearance of a lump the size of a tennis ball in his throat. Even at her "normal", she's stunning. He, on the other hand, looks more "high school science teacher chic", when it comes down to it. He feels his palms already getting sweaty.
"Easy, Scott," he mutters quietly to himself as she spots him and waves. He casts a bright smile, lifting a hand in return as he slips off of the bike and pockets the keys. "It's just pizza. You promised her before…"
Striding towards her with long strides, he pushes both hands into the pockets of his jacket, and breathes in a deep, steady breath. "Hey… Yeah. Sorry I took so long. It's been a busy week…"
He stands still for a moment, not certain what else to say, before he sort of snaps his attention to the building they stand outside of. "Oh. Right. So, uh…"
His head cock in the direction of the door.
"You played your cards right last time, and I'm a man of my word, so… I figured I'd let you in on the secret. Best pizza in town. Hope you brought your appetite."
Zatanna is all smiles. She seems benignly amused by his awkwardness. Her own hands are in her pockets, also. She stands across from him, and doesn't go for the hug, or the handshake, because he doesn't. "I always play my cards right," Zatanna says, her smile broadening into a grin.
Zee looks in through the window, then back at Scott, still keeping that expression like she might giggle at any moment. Not in a mean way. Like she's already having fun, before they've even walked in. "If they can cook, I can eat. But remember, Scott. You say this is the best… I'm gonna trust you on that one." She takes hand out of her pocket and wags a finger, teasingly. "If it's not the BEST…"
Her smile, and the amusement in her expression, in general, makes Scott feel even more self-conscious. But somehow, in a weird sort of paradox, also makes him feel… a little more at ease. As if, if nothing else, this could just wind up being a fun encounter. The quip about the cards has him sort of bob his head with a lopsided smirk, before he says, "Yeah. I guess that's to be expected of a magician. Sleight of hand and all that. We should make a rule right now. You never challenge me to poker, and I never challenge you to a game of pool."
One might think, by the shifting of Scott's brows, that he might have winked behind those reflective glasses.
"Oh. Your trust isn't going to be misplaced," he says with an assured tone of voice, as he side steps towards the door and reaches out to pull it open so that she might pass through the entry before him. Though he does sort of give a start and freeze, before one brow quirks up and he asks, "But now I'm curious. If it's not the best, then what?"
Zatanna enters when Scott holds the door, murmuring a polite "thank you" as she passes. When he asks his question, she takes her knit cap off and shakes her hair gently, before looking back over her shoulder. She shook her hair into perfect styling. "We're in the city that never sleeps, Scott. If this isn't the best, then we keep looking." She winks, and then seems to look around for a server to seat them. Even if that isn't the system, she appears to be used to it as a default.
Again, he feels that lump in his throat appear so suddenly, as it seems like her hair shake is some sort of slow motion Pantene commercial happening in real life. A sharp breath is drawn in between his teeth and held captive in his lungs as he follows in behind her, letting the door swing closed. As she looks back at him, he looks away, off to one side and nods his head. Inwardly, he's kind of cursing himself for bringing her to the best pizza in town right off the bat. It could be a fun night going on a pizza crawl.
"Dammit. I should have taken you to the gas station first, then," he remarks, as he places a hand against her lower back. This definitely is not the kind of place where a host/ess seats you. Instead, Scott just leads her to one of the black and red tables nearby and pulls out a seat for her to claim.
"Oh? To show me the best unleaded in town?" Zatanna asks. She doesn't seem averse to being led, as far as this scenario goes. At the table, she unbuttons her coat and shrugs it off, draping it on the back of the chair before she sits down. "Thanks. You're so polite," she grins.
Zee is wearing a black dress that's not so fancy as to be for gala occasions, but just fancy enough to catch attention. She's also wearing fishnets with the dress, but that was hardly a secret. Her jewelry seems to have little charms strung on it, but nothing about that seems terribly occult-ish on first glance. "Any recommendations?" she asks, reaching for one of those menus with the plastic screen that's half come off. "I'd hate to get the worst best pizza."
"Sorry. Is that bad?" Scott asks, suddenly very aware that doing things like holding the door and pulling out the chair could be read very wrong in the dating scene today. He really, really sucks at this. As he turns away from her to circle to the other side of the table, he mouths a very stern curse at himself, and rolls his eyes.
"Well, the classic is just pepperoni, but it's all good here. I prefer the Neapolitan, personally," he replies, as he's shrugging off his leather jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, fastened into place by straps that button to keep them secured and pulled up. Again, very everyman. His whole outfit looks like it came from Kohl's. Quite a contrast to her, really. Enough so that all the eyes drawn to her are going to immediately notice how out of place he seems seated across from her.
"So… I have to admit… I watched some of your videos. You're really good, though… I guess I have no real sort of context for what you do, to be fair," he says, trying to strike up conversation. After a moment, he adds, "You have a really strong charisma, though. Good show presence."
"You're asking if being polite to a woman is bad?" Zee raises her eyebrows and her smile brightens again like she's holding in laughter. Still grinning, she shakes her head. "Trust me. It's not bad. In fact, it's so not bad, that some women would even call it good."
"Relax," Zee says in a lower, softer tone of voice as Scott seats himself. "We're having fun. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me." Her gaze lingers for a moment, then dips back to the menu.
"Context?" Zatanna looks up, and adopts a thoughtful expression for a moment. "Well, every magician has their own thing, so as far as I think, the only context you really need is whether or not it's entertaining. So in that context, I hope I succeeded." She smiles. "And oh, thank you. I've been doing this stuff since I was a little kid. If I can't handle a stage after twenty-two years, then I need to find a new line of work."
He can't help but smile, even if it is only because he feels foolish all over again. He shrugs his broad shoulders, and holds his hands out in a helpless gesture. "I'm… Listen, I'm going to level with you. My life has kind of been… Restrictive. I don't… I haven't… I haven't had many opportunities to socialize much, with the exception of the people that I've been around since we were all kids in school together. Private boarding school. It's a very small group, really. And that's been my entire life. I only get out to see the world every so often, and more often than not, it's on a business trip or aid mission."
He pauses and takes a breath.
"I've only had a few experiences dating, and most of my romantic interests have been focused on a girl I grew up with that may only just be because she was the only girl I had regular contact with. So…"
This time, he offers a soft, almost sad smile, and quietly, he finishes, "Sorry if I'm awkward. I'm just really nervous. I like you. You're… charming. And you make me feel like I have to be on my toes. It's not a bad thing. I kinda dig it."
With that out of the way, Scott leans back in his seat and claps his hands together, rubbing his palms as he releases a deep sigh between lips pursed into an O.
"Twenty-two years? That's a long time. I mean, even starting as a kid. How old are you, anyway? I mean, if you don't mind me asking. I know it's supposed to not be polite to ask stuff like that."
"It's not, but you also just shared a LOT with me, so I think I can reciprocate," Zatanna says, her smile more muted and knowing. She didn't smile through Scott's confessions about his upbringing and his nervousness and so forth. She looked downright sympathetic.
"I'm twenty-seven. Twenty-eight in October. And I started as part of my dad's show when I was five. He'd do stuff like make me disappear, or hold his hat or his jacket or, you know, basic stuff that I didn't have to DO anything for." Zatanna shrugs, and laughs. "So I grew up on stage, pretty much literally. Though I wasn't doing half the stuff I do now. Just… assisting. Though when I was seventeen I finally got to do the one where I'm chained up in the tank of water and have to escape. That was like, bigger than my birthday party. Actually, it might have been AT my birthday party…"
Scott does smile as Zatanna shares her own confessions. He nods, and despite the shades that cover his eyes, it's clear that he's focused and intently listening, nodding to show understanding and leaning forward with his elbows on the table.
"So, kind of following in your father's footsteps. I can appreciate that. It sounds like you had a really fun life. Exciting, if nothing else. I imagine it must have had its fair share of difficulties, though. Growing up in a spotlight like that…"
His face turns down as he looks at the surface of the table. "My parents passed when I was young. We were in a plane crash. My mother strapped a parachute on me, and then belted my little brother to me and pushed us out of the plane. They didn't make it. I learned to fly, though. Just like my dad. Well… maybe not as good as my dad, but I'm working on it. He was a world class ace pilot, though, so they're some pretty big shoes to fill. Oh, and uh… I'm twenty-five."
About that time a server comes over. Young guy, wearing a red shirt and black apron and tired eyes. Scott orders a classic coke and a single giant slice of pepperoni, before both men look to Zee for her order.
Zatanna's expression returns to the sympathetic. She does have that stage-ready charisma, even when one-on-one in a pizza place. In fact, up close and in person it might be even more powerful than seen through a TV or a phone screen. She doesn't get a chance to reply before it's time to order.
"Oh! Oh, um, the… six-cheese." Zatanna treads off the beaten path of Scott's pepperoni recommendation, clearly, going for the specialty slice that has garlic sauce and ricotta applied via ice cream scoop. "And a Diet Coke. Thanks."
Once he's gone, Zatanna gets a chance to reply to Scott: "That was… timing, huh?" she says, making a kind of rueful grin. "But no, no, really, I'm sorry that you went through that. My childhood was fun, yeah, but my mom was gone before I could even form memories of her. So like, sad, weird, and fun, the ultimate combo."
Scott adopts a sidelong grin as Zee orders the six cheese. That does sound like a good choice, and it's one thing he always does want to try on the menu, but everytime he gets here, the siren call of the pepperoni catches him. He thinks it's a smell thing. Once he's here, the smell of it fills his nose and makes him crave it. But, the server nods his affirmation, repeats the orders for their confirmation,a dn then wanders off with a promise to bring their drinks out to them shortly.
Once he's gone, and Zee addresses him about his past, he just lifts one hand up from the table in a gesture indicating that she needn't apologize for his past. His brows knit together, forming a crinkle just over the bridge of his nose and his soft, full lips pull into a slight frown. Instinctively, his hand reaches across the table, threatening to rest on hers, but stopping just short to rest flat on the surface.
"It's hard. I know. But, at the very least, you can say that you had a childhood well colored by experience, and tasted almost everything that life has to offer. I know, from experience, that that's a really small consolation, but… Hey, we gotta hang on to something, right?"
Zatanna nods once, and then smiles. It's like she flipped a switch in herself. She doesn't even have to force it, so much as just… change modes. "I know I turned out pretty cool, yeah," she says with a laugh.
"It's… you know, it is what it is, right? It's such a dumb saying, but… it is what it is about the saying, too." Zatanna laughs again, and then shakes her head. "Thank you, Scott. For opening up like that. It's… gutsy." She has to think about what she wants to say next, for a moment. "I know a lot of guys who are all about trying to present the most unflappable exterior, nothing ever bothers them, everything's always great, whatever, blah blah blah, and you know it's such bullshit. You just… went for honesty, right out of the gate. That's impressive. I'm not, like, saying that in a teasing way or anything, it's really, honestly impressive."
Scott's grin returns when she mentions that she turned out pretty cool. He even lets slip a soft chuckle when she comments on the turn of phrase. Because it is just that. It is what it is. He even quietly retorts, "It be like that sometimes…"
And then she's laying out the compliments. He can feel a tingling in his scalp and feels like he's shrinking in his seat, but it's oddly comforting while also triggering that reflex within himself that makes his palms sweaty and color to flood his face with warmth. For a moment, he's confused as he hears the sound of the ocean waves, but then realizes it's just the racing of his pulse heard through his inner ear. He has to look away, casting his ruby-lensed stare out the window onto the street outside, as if the passing foot traffic holds some deep and meaningful message for him.
"There's a time for people to put on their game face, and present to the world this image of perfection. Then there's times where the best strategy is to roll over and expose your throat. It just depends on what your goals are."
A pause.
"Or something like that. I just think that if I'm trying to d-…do this… then it doesn't really do me any good to pretend to be something I'm not, right? If someone is going to be interested, I want them to be interested in the real me. Otherwise, what's the point?"
"It definitely spares you the trouble of me finding out you're not something you claim to be and getting mad at you about it," Zatanna replies with a grin. "So you are so far ahead of the curve on that that you would not even believe."
She looks like she might have more to say, but it'll have to wait: the slices arrive, along with their attendant cokes. Zatanna eyes her slice, and looks at Scott with a pursed smile. "Here goes nothing," she says, as she dabs at the pizza with a napkin that is rapidly turning orange. Six cheeses does that. "Moment of truth, the best pizza in NYC, according to one Scott Summers…"
That comment seems to set something off in Scott. Instantly, his spine straightens, his shoulders squaring, and a reserved tension settles in to his features. He leans back away from the table, leaving his hands flat, palms down on it as he opens his mouth to speak.
And the pizza arrives.
He seems to snap his attention up to the young man as he settles their paper plates and those red plastic cups with the chipped texture to them, full of soda and ice. Scott just flashes a momentary polite smile and gives a nod of his head before the server wanders back off again.
When Scott turns his attention back to Zee, she's dabbing the grease off her pizza and is about to take a bite when he just says:
"I'm a mutant."
Zatanna does have to stop mid-about-to-bite when Scott drop maybe the biggest bombshell of all. She doesn't seem especially shocked, though. Really, it seems like she's pausing just to not be rude. She takes a second, still holding her slice, and nods subtly.
"Magic is real," Zatanna replies, calmly, and then has a bite of her pizza like the most normal person in the world.
Scott sits there, silent and still, his brows creased and his nostrils flared, waiting for the whole place to come falling down around him. He's so very certain of that. Absolute destruction follows in his wake, doesn't it?
And then she just says… that.
For a long time, Scott just remains there, watching her as she takes a bite of her pizza. He watches her start to chew. And, after a few tense moments, he takes up his own, and takes a small bite. Speaking around a half mouthful, he asks, "So… how is it? I told you so, right?"
Zatanna is still chewing, but as she reaches for her drink, she gives a big thumbs up.