2007-04-15: A Modest Proposal

Starring:

Bekah_icon.gif Lee_icon.gif Namir_icon.gif Samantha_icon.gif

Summary: Lee, Bekah, Namir, and Samantha have a double-date at Namir's apartment. It involves egg creams, talk of guns in schools, the ER, and books. Namir proposes (but not really), and the curse hanging over Bekah and Lee's dating life is lifted.

Date It Happened: April 15th 2007

A Modest Proposal


Namir's Apartment

It was threatened, and now it has become a reality: a double-date. A little sleep-deprived from his adventures out in the wee hours, Namir has spent most of the day semi-organizing his apartment and coming up with goodies to serve his guests. It wasn't a baking day extravaganza, but he's done his fair share of cooking today, and this is probably one of the first times in a long time that he's had anything not strictly halal cross the threshold of his apartment door (well … aside from the Chinese that Bekah brought in last week). Snacks are laid out on the coffee table, the XBox has been returned here from where it was previously left in Sam's apartment, and there are board games stacked near the couch: things from Balderdash to Scrabble. The Muslim is currently finishing up something in the kitchen.

Lee has just gotten back from a dress rehearsal with his band, so he's carrying his electric violin case and is actually dressed much nicer than he normally does, which despite being even more 'square' than his daily dress, is actually a lot more stylish on him, as if exaggerating his natural lack of fashion sense rolls him over to looking fairly good. Sharing a cab over here with Bekah did not result in car wrecks or explosions. Perhaps the curse is broken.

Samantha promised she would stay out of Namir's kitchen, so she resolves her urge to get into the thick of it by arriving closer to the arranged time. She's got a few dvd's under her arm, even if it's not the most social of things to do on a double date. "I feel like I should be in an angora sweater and pigtails." she mutters. She almost bought wine at the grocery store, but didn't. Instead, there's milk, Fox's U-Bet chocolate syrup, and seltzer water.

Bekah walks up with Lee with a smile on her face. She's not dressed as nicely, though the soft sweater she's wearing is at least a step up from a t-shirt or scrubs. For Bekah, it's practically dressed up. The non-exploding cab ride has calmed her down. She didn't even bring any pork or alcohol to the Muslim's this time. No, she has cookies as well as a couple DVDs. Apparently in her mind, those should be safe. "Have you met Namir yet?" She asks towards Lee.

Lee says, "Don't think so, but the name is familiar. Did you or Sam mention him?" Not that he remembers a whole lot about their previous meeting past the hobo murder.

It would appear Lee is the nicest-dressed in the party, as Namir is clad in a simple blue button-down shirt and black slacks. Well, and an apron. But nobody can fault him for that one. He steps out of the kitchen bearing a tray of fresh vegetables and dip. "You would look cute in pigtails," he remarks absently to Sam as he sets the load down in a blank spot on the coffee table. Dusting off his hands, he examines everything critically, then reaches back to untie the apron strings, glancing to the woman in question. "It could be worse: you could be wearing the apron here."

"I think the apron is tres sexy." Sam informs Namir brightly, rising as she's slowly lured into the kitchen. Must…help…with kitchen stuff. There's a pause as she tilts her head. "I think I hear Bekah in the hall. I'd know those dulcet harpy tones anywhere." Her grin turns evil, and she heads for the door, unlocking it and poking her head out.

Bekah shrugs over to Lee. "I'd bet one of us did. He's Sam's boyfriend. Really scary type." She says the last with a smirk on her face, as she sees Sam peeking out the door, teasing her fellow doctor. "Ah, I see we're expected. Getting nosey again, Sam?" She says, continuing the tease. Lee gets a quick smile as she heads for the door.

Lee says, "You'd have to be." cryptically, in response to Bekah's comment, then enters. He greets with, "Hey, Sam. Hey, I'm Lee. Sorry I'm overdressed. Band practice." He stashes his electric violin case by the door.

"Really? I'll keep that in mind, then: Sam has an apron kink." Thankfully, Namir has stripped off the apron by the time the door is opened and Bekah and Lee start to enter. He rolls up the cloth and turns to smile at the pair, stepping forward to extend a hand toward Lee when he introduces himself. "Namir Dayan," is the reciprocated response. "Welcome. Make yourselves at home, and excuse me a moment." With that, he's disappeared into the kitchen again to stash the apron somewhere.

"I love my apron at home." Sam says blithely. "It's pink and says, 'I want to be Barbie - that bitch has everything.'" She grins at Bekah and Lee. "Find the place okay? Hey Lee, how you doing? Nice to see you under safer circumstances."

Bekah laughs at Sam's statement. "Nah, cause having your feet bend in that way would be massively painful." Bekah jokes before she nods her head. "Found it just fine. And it better be safer. You hear that Namir? No burning the place down cooking." She calls towards the kitchen moving to put the cookies on the coffee table. "You're not overdressed. You just look good." Bekah adds towards Lee.

Lee says, "Doing good. Got some new songs in, and the kids are in standardized testing all week." This last seems to give him great relief. "Can get some improving reading done. How about you?" He responds to Bekah's comment with a smile and a gracious, "Thanks."

Apron taken care of, Namir returns to the living room and smirks a little. "I am not ever wearing that," he informs Samantha. "Don't even ask. And I'll have you know— " he addresses Bekah now, grinning "— that I haven't had a kitchen fire since the fall of '02, when I fell asleep on the couch after putting something in the oven. It's good to see you left your Korean pimp friends behind tonight." Two can play this ribbing game — or three, or four.

Lee groans, "I got my paycheck for the last pay period and wondered if maybe I went into the wrong business. I bet that guy made a lot more money than I did. On the other hand, nobody ever writes a hit song, 'it's hard out there for a civics teacher.'"

"I don't know, I could see that showing up on the Colbert Repair some time." Sam can't help laughing. "Take note that I'm totally clueless as to what Namir is making and do hereby disavor any association culinary-wise if it's awful."

Bekah grins over to Namir. "Nah, I'd rather have a pimp who speaks good english. Makes it easier to understand orders." She jokes before she grins to Lee. "Hey, maybe that's the next song for the band you play with. 'Cause some of those kids can't be easy to work with." Finally Bekah gives Sam a mock serious nod. "I totally plan to blame you for any bad food. Everything is always your fault, Sam."

"I keep trying to tell her that, but she doesn't believe me," sighs Namir with a dramatic shake of his head. "And then she chases me down the supermarket aisle wielding a sausage. You see, our relationship is very abusive." He's grinning soon after and tilts his head to give a quick peck to Sam's cheek before he indicates the couch with one arm. "Sit, sit. I … only have a couch, though. We can all either squeeze on, or I can sit on the floor." Obviously, he doesn't usually entertain more than a couple people at a time.

Lee says, "Work with? I'm lucky if I can just /avoid/ them." brightly enough, though there may be an awkward 'is he joking?' element to the quip. "Thanks." he says, seating himself. "What do you do, Namir?" he asks curiously.
"I can take the floor too." Sam assures. "We always hurt the ones we love." she quotes gleefully. "Can I fix anyone an egg cream?" She lets Namir answer that question, though his expectant answer makes her smile.
Samantha snorts at all the blaming, too. Deny!

Bekah shakes her head over to Namir. "Anything but pork! How could she dare to taunt you so?" She asks with mock afront. She's not shy about taking a seat on the couch. Lee's 'joke' gets a laugh from her as she settles in. "I think I would shoot myself if I had to deal with roomfuls of middle schoolers every day."

"Really Bekah, how is that different from the ER?" Sam interjects ruefully.

"Teachers don't get to stick their students with sharp needles when they get annoying." Bekah responds quickly.

Ooh, Sam said the E.C. word. "Did you bring enough to make egg creams for everyone?" Namir inquires as he settles himself cross-legged on the floor and peers at the doctor. "Because I saw what you brought in, and it looked like barely enough for /me/." All your egg creams are belong to him. Smirk. Turning his attention to Lee, he smiles a little wider. "I work with the NYPD Emergency Services Unit. We're a bit like SWAT."

Lee says, "Guns make too much racket, and at my school, I'd never get it out of the holster before the kids drew down on me. I'd really rather not visit you two in a /professional/ capacity again if I can avoid it…An egg cream sounds good, thanks!" He nods to Namir, he knows that team, apparently. "Cool." he says, though he leaves it at that somewhat awkwardly, as if law enforcement were not his most comfortable topic at the present moment.

"Point, but there's also less chance of puking and blood getting on their jeans. Admittedly some, but rather less." Sam gets up and walks to the kitchen. "I'm sure I did." she says to Namir in amusement. "How about you Bekah, you want one?"

Bekah nods her head. "If Namir is going to share, I'd love one." She says before she looks over to Lee. "Probably good to not have one. Then you're not tempted to shoot any students. That way Namir won't have to arrest you. Or get accidently shot again. I'd rather not see him again professionally either." She stays comfortable on the couch as that kitchen doesn't look big enough for another. "Namir needs to be highly trained to put up with Sam." She adds before she threatens. "Have to come see me again and I'll break out the sharp needles instead of the lollipops. No injuries allowed."

Lee lifts his hands. "I don't want to jinx the rest of the evening, but there's been no disasters so far."

It is totally acceptable for Samantha to go into the kitchen if her goal is to make egg creams, apparently, because Namir doesn't protest. His gaze goes only briefly to her retreating back before he's focused again on Lee and Bekah. He quirks an eyebrow inquisitively at Lee's apparent discomfort, but doesn't address it directly. "Just tell them you know a guy in SWAT; that might cow them — or make them gun for you even more. Middle schoolers are an unpredictable bunch." His smile breaks into a grin at the teasing from Bekah. "You know, I've dealt with one or two school shootings; they're never pretty, but I have not seen a /teacher/ gun down students before. It's usually the other way around." He shakes his head. "Between your sharp needles and Sam's fruity band-aids, I think I am sufficiently threatened and will never get injured again." Lee's brief interjection earns a laugh. "Well, Sam's in the kitchen; I wouldn't get your hopes up just yet."

"I heard that!" Samantha yells as she's pouring the egg creams. Half a glass of milk, quarter glass of seltzer, and the rest is all chocolate, baby. "You be nice, or I'll drink all your egg creams and you will be egg cream-less."

Lee says, "The kids are typically pretty aware of who's in charge, and as a result wouldn't waste ammo on teachers," a cynical quip if there ever was one. "I assume you also were a patient who sexually harassed your doctor into an inappropriate personal relationship?" he suggests to Namir.

Bekah says, "I'll leave you the stinky patient next time if you do that!" Bekah calls in to Sam before she laughs at Lee's statement. "The ER is actually a good place to meet men. As long as you weed through the horribly crazy psych guys." She notes dryly. "Don't become a principal then. Or a gang leader.""

Namir grins at Sam's hollered input before he thrusts a thumb toward the kitchen, looking to Bekah and Lee with a faux frown. "You see? Abusive." He chuckles a little at Lee's quip, then snorts at the question. "No, no. I have never actually /officially/ been Sam's patient. I met her when I brought in a little girl who had been held hostage and needed to be checked out for head trauma. I sexually harrassed her into an inappropriate personal relationship later on."

"Yes, he inhaled some poisonous gas." Sam says conversationally, as she brings out two egg creams and hands the rich dark chocolate soda goodness to Bekah and Lee first. "Which I suppose might have said something about his mental state at the time." She heads back into the kitchen, presumably to fetch the next pair.

Lee nods solemnly. "Good work. Doctors have a lot of money, I hear." he says teasingly, knowing full well that this is just not true. "Mmm…thanks." he says to Sam, taking a swig, and yes, getting a mustache for his trouble. "A hostage situation…was it a domestic violence thing?" He can't think of any reason more terrible to take a small girl hostage.

Bekah grins over to Lee. "Espeically ER docs. We just rake in the big bucks, especially when compared to, say, doctors in private practice." Yes, there's a good deal of sarcasm there. She takes the drink with a quick thanks for Sam. "No, you got to be my patient, Namir, when you came in all shot up. At least Lee only needed stitches."

"I figured I had to ask her while I could play the pity card," Namir supplements Sam's comment. Back to Lee's question, however, he nods. "Mm-hmm. The father didn't want to lose custody, the mother was obviously going to win it, he snapped. He hit the girl's head rather hard on a corner when he was carrying her down the hall." But he leaves it at that, deciding not to go into too many specifics. It's not exactly a warm and pleasant subject of conversation. Bekah's statement earns a grin. "Next time I run into a robber, I'll be sure to tell him that I am not allowed to be shot again."

Samantha snorts. "Well, I'd sure appreciate it if he obliged, but Bekah, you're just about the only person in the ER I'd let treat Namir who wasn't me." Special powers notwithstanding! Two more glasses, and then Sam's coming out to offer Namir his. "You know, I might try experimenting with IBC cream soda as a base sometime." she muses thoughtfully with a sidelong glance at Namir to see if he just shivered from that.

Lee says, "Can't blame the kids for wanting a gun after a situation like that." philosophically, and although he's joking, it's a bit more sympathetic to the 'little bastards' than he's been so far. "Yep, and she did such a good job, I didn't even scar very much. Now that's talent."

Bekah clasps her hands over her chest mock dramatically. "Aw, Sam. I can just feel the love!" She jokes before she just gives Lee a smirk. "Hey, I've got skills far beyond that of the minions, er, residents." No, that's not a new name for them from her, espeically the interns. At least she doens't use it around them. Much. "Please do, Namir. Then I won't have to go book shopping for you again." She says, as if that should be some kind of threat.

It is a threat, considering the /last/ book he got from Bekah. Well … a partial threat. He does wince a little good-naturedly at it, then Namir nods a little in wry understanding of Lee's sentiment, but the mood is once again lifted when he's presented with an egg cream! Ah, bliss! He takes it with a grin and is in the process of taking a drink from it when Sam mentions her theoretical Ultimate Egg Cream Best Ever. He pauses, then slowly lowers the glass and peers up at her solemnly. "Sam," he intones, "marry me now."

Samantha lets out a laugh. "Oh, but our parents, they would fling themselves off a cliff, my darling." she protests grandly. Sipping her egg cream, she remarks casually to Bekah, "He's still recovering. No book report yet."

Lee laughs at the exchange, "You have to do a book report? On what book? I majored in literature at UCLA, so I've done a million of them. So to speak."

Bekah just completely cracks up laughing as Lee asks about the book. She's not blushing at though, yet at least. "I don't know if you've read this one." She manages to get out between laughs.

"No, no, I think if you let Mother sample one of these— " Namir holds aloft his glass "— she would not only understand, she would pay for the wedding." Wishful thinking. Lee's question sets him to laughing too, but he tries his very best to contain it. "I … you have probably never done a book report quite like the one with which I am tasked."

Lee says, "Probably not. I specialized in European literature of the 18th and 19th century, and it's starting to sound like I'm not old enough to read this one."

"Victorian era? Well then, maybe you have." Sam says blithely. She smirks at Namir. "She'd have a heart attack at the prospect of a chuppah being involved." she reminds slyly.

Bekah grins over to Lee. "Well, I'd hope you're old enough." She says dryly. "Maybe Namir will feel the need to loan the book out sometime." She's still laugh a bit before she shakes her head. "Your parents are going to freak, you might as well get it over with and let them. Eventually they'll get used to the idea. That eventually will come sooner the sooner you tell them.

Lee says, "You people have filthy minds." but he listens to Bekah's advice quietly enough, even his loudmouth proclivities do not compel him to give advice to a couple he just saw together for the first time.

"And you keep company with us, so what's that make yours?" Samantha is quick to reply with a laugh, and then smirks at Bekah. "He wasn't serious." Even SHE knows that.

"I did not /used/ to have a filthy mind. Blame Sam — it's always her fault, you know." Namir grins. Bekah's advice dulls his joviality a bit, though he continues to smile a little. He says nothing on the matter, opting instead to nod silently — until Sam speaks again and he glances to her with a deadpan expression. "I was quite serious. You see, I plan to keep you in my harem where there are egg creams all day and shagging all night. As I recall, you might have liked that idea."

Bekah rolls her eyes. "I didn't mean tell them you're getting married. Yet at least. But if you tell them you're dating, they'll have time to get used to the idea. And nothing else you do will ever seem as bad." She notes, somewhere between serious and joking. She shrugs with a laugh. "I've got a filthy mind. I'll admit it. It makes life more entertaining."

Lee says, "Let's hope so!" The evening rolls on, with nasty comments made towards a bad movie, more egg creams, and then Scrabble, which Lee plays a mean game of. All in all it's a nice double date…and /nothing horrible happens/.

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