Summary:After their workout, Ava asks Roni a question which catches the good doctor off-balance. They go out to dinner and talk about it. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Padding over to her locker dried and freshly washed, Ava folds her towel on the floor and steps onto it before rummaging through her gym supplies. Before she even pulls out her clothes the cyborg's workout shake makes another appearance long enough for the white-browed woman to drink the last of it dry.
A bit later, Veronica's wheelchair rolls around the corner and up to her locker, the doctor wrapped in a towel. Her hair may not be as short as Posse's but it is short enough she is not bothering with a second towel wrapped around her head. She opens the locker biometrically, and then pulls out clothes. Roni has years of experience, and knows exactly how to take care of herself here without any help; that doesn't mean it isn't visibly an effort to do so.
Ava glances back when Roni wheels in and offers the doctor a nod before returning to her locker. After the shake come the clothes; normal, everyday human clothes - at least until she can get her stim-suit cleaned for wear again. As she bends over to slip on her underwear the cyborg looks over again. "Wanna go on a dinner date tonight?" she asks casually.
There's just something about the way Posse said that which tweaks Roni enough to make her stop before answering automatically. Even as she works on getting herself dressed, one article at a time despite the challenges of doing so as a paraplegic alone and without help, she is paying attention. These two have known each other for six years; they have gone to dinner countless times. But … Roni concentrates … no, Ava has never called it a 'date' before.
Roni's grimace is hopefully hidden amongst the facial contortions of effort required as she continues to get dressed. "We can go get dinner together, sure." Roni answers after a bit. "Why a 'date,' though? Never said that before."
"Honestly? Chain of command," Ava explains in her characteristic frankness as she makes herself at least half-dressed but gives the seated doctor her attention. It's no small wonder of science that the cyborg's arm keeps moving naturally without her eyes to guide it. "I've had an interest in you for a while but fraternizing is kind of my unofficial rule numero uno; it messes up focus and team dynamics, especially with a superior. But at this point I figure we're both old and adult enough, and you're already a big bleedin' heart for me when we're on a mission so… low collateral damage," she concludes with a small and even hopeful smile. That might be one of her jokes.
"If y'ain't interested just say so."
Veronica finishes pulling her blouse on, then turns her chair around to face Posse, looking up at the cyborg woman's eyes. "Ava, I think what I would like, if you can tolerate it, is for us to go to dinner and talk about this. I think there are some things you should know. They were never germane before now. But, you've asked, and you deserve to know." She trusts Ava enough to tell her, even if that's going to be uncomfortable for both of them. Veronica tucks her blouse in and pulls up her pants the right of the way, belting them closed. Yes, her core is strong enough to allow her to plank to pull up the side zipper despite that her leg muscles are so much useless goo without the exoframe to help.
"Sure, whatever you need," Ava readily accepts as she makes herself similarly presentable and grabs her gym bag. There's no visible swing in the cyborg's countenance high or low from the request, she seems willing to wait. "You like kebabs?"
Veronica takes a bit of time to finish, including brushing her hair just so and then applying the very basic bit of makeup that is her norm. Then she pulls down her side bags and packpack, hanging them on the chair and sliding on her smart glasses. "I like them fine. Mediterranean, or Indian?" she inquires, as she rolls after Ava towards the locker room door.
Ava's own skin got a quick wipe of moisturizer, water-proof with sunblock, and that's it. If Roni was watching closely there was also a quick swipe of anti-chafe balm. "Meditter-Eastern. I think it's Lebanese or Turkish maybe."
Veronica nods. "Alright. Lead the way." She's only too happy to follow to whatever location or vehicle Ava has in mind. "Nice place you found?" she questions, leaving behind the other topic of conversation for a while.
"Yeah. Heard about it through the grapevine," Ava affirms as she moves to the door and holds it open for the seated doctor. "I'll drive."
Having picked a table by the wall with a high backrest, Ava leans back in her chair and sips from a water with lemon as a plate of hot flatbread is set between them with olive oil, garlic, and pepper already at the table. The room is lit by bright sunlight filtering in through the windows and the heavy scent of spices and seared meat fill the air. Thanks to her short hair still growing itself back from nothing, the vet's head is already completely dry from her earlier shower though her skin still has the smooth rosiness that always chases it after a heavy sweat and a good hot wash. Her green eyes, ever so faintly two-toned, gives the room an idle sweep. It's hard to ever get the cyborg's full attention in a crowd.
"Find somethin ya like?" she asks.
Veronica is much more comfortable of the two of them sitting with her back to more of the environment. She is also a bit less dry, but still suitable and styled; it's not hard to guess she has recently worked out heavily and had a shower, but she's not still glistening damp.
At Ava's question, Roni puts down the menu she has been reading and shrugs. "Sure. I thought I'd go with the mixed set of three. One lamb, one pork, one chicken." Plenty of veggies to be had in that; Roni may end up doggie-bagging depending on the length of the skewers and their decided 'chunk' sizes, but she can adapt pretty easily. None of those meat choices are going to drastically shorten the fridge life of the doggie bag.
"I'm assuming you already knew what you wanted?" This was Ava's choice of location, after all. Veronica is staying pretty calm, but there's enough tiny clues to still demonstrate to Ava that the doctor is nervous or mildly skittish about something. Probably not hard to guess what, either.
The bionic vet smiles back. Wait, she's not dealing with Domino. Keep that one to herself.
"Lamb on a stick," is what comes out instead. "The kafta's good too. You'll want to take one of their breath mints on the way out; the rice has plenty of garlic." It might not be obvious to anyone watching the table but just as Veronica has learned through time and exposure to read the naturally stoic sergeant, she's learned to read the doctor's subtle cues as well. Setting her water back down, Ava gaze back with a note of sympathy and offers, "Fire away whenever you're ready."
Once their orders are in, Veronica does not get herself any of the recently-arrived warm bread; instead, she breathes a few times, clearly - to Ava - centering herself. Then she finally lifts her gaze to Ava, smiles, and begins.
"You are reasonably observant." Roni comments. "So I'm pretty sure you have noticed that I don't date." That is not to say that Roni has no social life, but even that is limited to those events imposed by the corporate needs of RESCUE, or the needs of team-building and team-supporting of her partners and allies in RESCUE. Roni does not seem to have any ongoing contact with friends from before RESCUE, like those from school.
Ava mixes a little plate of dip and makes eye contact to the doctor as she nods. She might not have *all* the cyborg's attention but she most of it - a lot in fact. Even if the green-eyed woman is sating her appetite and half-watching the room.
Roni picks up her glass of water and sips a few times, slowly. She's not fishing for time. "I won't go into a lot of detail, as it's probably not germane." Roni begins. How like the scientist! "I don't have a lot of clear memories from before the incident." Not the accident; the incident. Ava would be one of the few who knows the basics of what happened, including how young Roni was, and how it engendered Roni's distaste for so-called supervillains. "But since then, I have been what some would call asexual and aromantic. I don't really do labels." No need for Roni to explain that while she has no memories of who or how she was before the Incident, her aunt does, or that such was and still remains a big part of the friction between them.
Ava tears off a chunk of bread and dips it in seasoned oil before popping it into her mouth. Her hand's already reaching for more by the time she swallows and offers a reply. "Life-changin event; I get that," she assures. "You've been through tough sierra."
Veronica nods. Of course Ava would understand, and accept. She sips a bit more water, then puts it down. Then she takes her tiny plate, tears off two pieces of bread, and then dips one, holds it over the plate, and brings it to her lips to bit off and chew. "So have you." she observes honestly. No judgement here. Just truth. But their traumas are different: Ava was a grown woman, a sexually active woman, before her trauma; Roni was a significantly pre-pubescent child.
"I got better," the cyborg quips, making light of her own difficulties. "Had the right people around to re-arrange my head, and invent some seriously high-speed hardware," she adds while raising her carbon-black left hand and waggling her fingers. Her expression relaxes to something warm, even inviting. "I've had some stuff hit me and stick, and I've had some stuff I shook off and healed over with enough time and help. Not sure which kind you're dealin with." Give honesty, get honesty. Ava's not bold enough to assume.
"So what's BLUF: not interested?" But she is as blunt as ever.
Veronica is quiet for a bit; one of the best parts of being with a friend is that usually one can be quiet, not feel pressure to fill silence. One can take time to think through and formulate the words for an answer. And then she makes an attempt at said answer. "Socially, yes. Romantically, sexually, no." OK. The grunt wanted things Bottom Line Up Front, now she has it. What will she do with it? Hells if Roni knows. But she did what was asked.
And somewhere, Roni's aunt is still gnashing her teeth, convinced if she could only get her brilliantly bullheaded niece to go to and accept the wisdom of psychological counseling, this could be fixed. Sad thing? She's probably right.
Why would Roni need to fill the silence? Ava's filling it with food. For better or worse the vet's table manners haven't slowed since the day they met. Appetizers were always her weakness.
After making another wedge of bread disappear and washing it down with a sip of water while waiting, the white-haired woman looks back across the table, still warm. She even gives Roni an easy smile. "Coo'. Y'ever find someone who makes you wanna change that, let me know. For you lessons are free."
Veronica offers a tiny smile and a shrug. She gathers up her glass and finishes her water, capable of waiting for the staff to return and refill it. She offers Ava a raised eyebrow of curiosity; lessons, really? But the part she really appreciates is that Ava just takes it all in, and accepts it. No questions. No pushing. No fighting. OK, that's where you are? Got it. Thanks. And on they go.