Dinner with a Werewolf

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IamLEAM1983
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Dinner with a Werewolf

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

It wasn't everyday someone had the esteemed honor of carrying a decorated spy out of harm's way, and the sight of a Clank protecting a large and furred beast was even less common. It was the kind of stuff kids who had to work at Holden Hall started noticing, and it was the kind of stuff that qualified for local news broadcast fodder. A few more repetitions and it would become tabloid fodder.

A superstitious man would have picked up on some sort of sign, by now. Archie had hunted problematic werewolves down before, clearing chunks of Welsh woods and French clearings from the kind of critters An American Werewolf in London tended to refer to. An old powder horn of his was actually made out of an old fang, a big and over-sized thing that had belonged to someone Eliphas Buck could have related with. Twice, now, he'd had his carters and pistons pulled out of hot water by someone he respected but failed to entirely understand. He knew he felt drawn to her, but his almost comical obliviousness to the matters of the heart made him approach the subject platonically. Lowell was dropping clues left and right, and it didn't take a Diviner to figure out that Holden was deliberately missing out on something.

There were signs, alright, and some men were just too sensible for their own good.

All the same, his chest's mechanisms didn't lie. That one, single, blasted phone call was making him feel like he'd be asked to parachute out of the Archimedes any minute! As he'd told Drake, however, he had nothing other than logistical matters to attend to, in calling upon the Deputy Chief. This was a luncheon in the making or a late-day meeting before a few good plates of food - but not a date. Certainly not a date.

His phantom stomach felt cold as he finished dialing her personal number, and he found himself wrestling against the urge to hang up and find something else to while away the last few hours of the workday. Rearranging his file cabinets for the fourth time this month suddenly seemed like a smashing idea...

Instead, he drew in a breath and briefly pulled on his waistcoat with his free hand, as if this repetitive motion would manage to calm him down.

"The die is cast, old chum," he whispered, largely for his own benefit, immediately scoffing at himself for sounding so dramatic.

"Don't be daft, Archibald; this is only a business meeting! You shall outline better workload-sharing proposals that will leave the department free of continued involvement. The Deputy Chief shall thank you and you shall both spend the remainder of the evening sipping on tea and coffee and possibly enjoying a dessert of some kind. With music. No, this is not a date, nor a proposal regarding later dates. You are a focused and balanced professional, who-"

His office's door creaked open, leaving Bucky's permanent grin to poke through. "You're speaking to yourself again, boss," he noted, unable to hold back a soft chortle.

The Victorian Clank stared daggers at the kitaiteki and then shooed him away with one hand, pointing back at the phone in the same gesture.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

The phone rang a few times before it was picked up. "Hello, Mr. Holden. What can I do for you?" came Crystal's response on the other end of the line. Her tone remained casual and professional, knowing the automaton's preference for a business relationship.

However, the signs of the werewolf's growing affection toward the former lord flew right by him, either intentionally or not. Over the past weeks, she smiled more at him, dressed in tasteful ways that would hopefully attract his attention, and tried to keep their conversations going for as long as possible within reason. The divorcee was open to dating and the old clank had managed to spark her interest after several years of caring for her daughter and focusing on her job. His antiquated habits amused her, while she was drawn to him by his morals and overall upright demeanor. Also, she found he was handsome in his own way.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Archie's nervousness was palpable.

"Ah, Crys - Miss Lowell! How good of you to answer so promptly!" he said, sounding perhaps just a tad too much cheerful. If she'd been there, Crystal would have seen him pull his face in a quick grimace thanks to his own inability to avoid resorting to platitudes.

"Yes, well - How do you do? I've, er, called on - I mean, called you to arrange for a discussion of sorts. These telephone conversations are dreadfully impersonal, you see, and if we're to keep saving one another on a routine basis, I would rather we systemized the process, somewhat, found ways to minimize your personal involvement. Your involvement, that is, out in the field. I've quite liked those exchanges we've had that didn't hang upon the edge of a sword of the tip of a set of claws, and would rather we had more of these instead of, you know, repeat mutual endangerment. All the while entrusting me and my division with more of the, er, workload.

I do not doubt of your ability, my dear - far from it - but it simply seems like a waste of good resources if we are to tolerate of the Deputy Chief that she neglect her administrative and political duties for the purpose of bounding about the city's expanse while sniffing out ruffians."

Again, he felt like kicking himself in the shins, and that would be fairly perceptible in his tone of voice. How did anyone go about telling a modern woman that her martial contributions were more than appreciated when the city's growing perils had put her life in danger several times? How did anyone manage letting someone take charge for their own acts while still manifesting a gentleman's expected care, in 2025?

He'd had time to meet with former superheroines and supervillainesses in the weeks that had followed Quigley Road's events, and he'd felt consistently torn in two when faced with someone like them. On the one hand, everything he was and had been raised into being told him he had to protect those of the fairer sex. On the other, third and fourth-wave feminists varied in their responses to old-fashioned Clank morality. Some tried to temper his reactions and were coaching him in the art of being who he was while still giving women some honest leeway - like Aislinn or Neasa - while his recently-acquired Twitter feed had soon been bombarded by misconstrued accusations. One naive Tweet on a supposedly scandalous blouse he'd seen had triggered the kind of media downpour he'd always dreaded.

If anything, he was realizing that maintaining relationships when you'd been born in the seventeen-hundreds' last decade was more complex than he'd assumed...
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Ah, Freudian slips... Crystal mentally chuckled at Archibald's awkwardness. She understood why he wasn't as skilled at being upfront and comfortable with women he had more than professional feelings for. She had heard stories of his ill-fated relationship with Iphigenia Gray and what became of her, even though he hadn't likely confronted that issue yet. The fiftysomething woman appreciated his acknowledgement of her martial skills while also recognizing the need for Shield to gain independence. Upon hearing his wishes for a place to discuss these matters, she thought over the possibilities.

The clank would hear her accessing her tablet, probably looking at her schedule. She then stated, "I have tomorrow evening open. We could get some dinner and talk about what you just mentioned. Oh, and you can call me by my first name. We've worked together enough that we're past the point of being acquaintances. Would you prefer for me to call you Archibald or Archie?" That question had a bit of a playful tone to it.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Had they? Had they worked enough for this? Archie felt like he still needed to call most of everyone who worked at the Hall by their surname and was utterly convinced he'd lose some of their esteem if he entered the difficult waters of familiarity too soon. Besides, distance had its perks: he didn't need to be too attached, he could scold them if they made mistakes and still managed to keep up his posture as a figure of authority...

Oh, but this was so complicated! Everyone worked on a first-name basis from Day One, now, and he couldn't pick up in which way someone could use someone's first name without being offensive or too informal! He'd waited three whole years before even daring to call Iphigenia by her first name, and Bucky had been "Mister Wallace" for nearly as long before enough oil leaks and part changes cemented their friendship! Was he ready to be called Archibald by the Deputy Chief - let alone Archie?!

And why did this bother him so much?!

Somewhere in his reeling mind, he realized the poor woman was waiting for an answer, and that he'd been stuck on a trailing "Er..." for about ten seconds. Say something, he told himself. Anything!

"Archie will do just fine," he blurted, much to his own surprise. He felt the almost vertigo-like urge to go back on his word and request that she call him by his full name - or better yet, one of the old standbys along the lines of "Sir" or "Milord" - but something made him chew on that sudden terror.

"I must make quite the sorry portrait," he said, desperately trying to make small talk, "being unable to stomach a purely platonic appointment... You lot move so fast, I can scarcely keep up!"

He chuckled nervously, all the while wondering why he'd said that if he seriously wanted to stay professional. The more he'd insist on this being platonic, the less it would actually be platonic! The truth was that he didn't know how to handle the kind of fondness he would've just pocketed away for a few years, in ideal circumstances. To make matters worse, that kind of fondness was the stuff that had previously needed a few dates before emerging and that barely blossomed into honest love by the time she'd been turned. He felt like he had to try to be forward without having any sort of honest idea as to how one went about being casual in these circumstances.

"I promise I shall be more focused tomorrow, Miss Lowell," he said, forcing himself not to use her first name, as she'd suggested. "Nerves are involved, I suppose. I've addressed disgraceful comments towards you, and I wholeheartedly apologize. The week has been long and you find me admittedly exhausted."

Snapping back to his native ethos felt like a saving throw of sorts, like he'd finally earned the right to gasp for air. He hated himself for it, of course, but he hadn't figured out this thing's peculiar beat just yet. He was a creature of a myriad little reservations hidden away behind his Period-Flavored Action Man tendencies - and Crystal didn't have the benefit of being something he could've just turned the old snark on for - like an undead opponent or an Abomination or some sort of opposing soldier.

It briefly made him wonder, actually - why in God's name could he swap battle banter with the Deputy Chief in as relaxed a manner as he could while immediately freezing up as soon as attraction entered the picture?
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Ignoring the urge to huff out an annoyed sigh at his avoidance at using her first name, Crystal moved on to the details of where their meeting would take place. "If I might make a suggestion, I was thinking we could dine at the Succulus. They've received high ratings for their cuisine, and I think you'll like the atmosphere. Somewhat formal, but approachable. Does seven o'clock work for you, Archie?" she inquired, intentionally using the nickname to perhaps make a point.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Again, a little too much eagerness was involved. "Why, yes! Yes, of course! Shall I stop by your residence, say, twenty minutes before the hour?"

At least he was smoothing his fairly dismal approach by offering what obviously had to be offered, which was a ride. At this point, Archie was a bit torn between wishing time travel being a possibility so he could start this whole thing over, and paradoxically expressing a tiny bit of satisfaction.

"Work up the gumption," he told himself, "call her by her first name before you hang up! Go on, do it!"
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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By now, the theriomorph had buried her face in the palm of her free hand, not knowing whether to laugh at Holden's frenetic glee or simply want him to calm down a notch. "Yes, that will work just fine," she replied.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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It was childish and he knew it, it was erratic and he knew it - especially after what he'd said - but he still had to say it.

"Very well, then," he replied, his self-satisfaction peeking through by the tiniest of margins. "I will see you tomorrow, Crystal."

Werewolves being what they are, and Clank facial features being what they were, Crystal would actually hear Archie smile - perhaps a bit like a chess player after a decently orchestrated move.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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A little laugh escaped Crystal's lips, and she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Archie. You have a good night," she answered, hanging up.
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