2007-03-05: Dates Don't Let Dates Walk Into Poles


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Date Two for Lachlan and Cass finds a lot less awkwardness and gunplay and a little more date-ish atmosphere. Lachlan helps an injured stray dog and winds up telling Cass about his abilities. Cass walks into a sign post.

Date It Happened: March 5th, 2007

Dates Don't Let Dates Walk Into Poles


While the first date was awkward and full of blood and death and violence, the second date has thus far gone quite well. All the blood and death and violence was on a big screen rather than surrounding the audience, therefore it was much more entertaining. Or as entertaining as the movie Ghost Rider can be, anyway. /Lachlan/ found it entertaining because there were motorcycles and explosions and things that are similarly manly and badass. Ah, that Nicholas Cage.

Walking home in Brooklyn now, the Scotsman has come out of his shell quite a bit since the first date. He's actually grinning and making jokes and talking, rather than sitting in nervous silence. Yes, this is /much/ better. He's absent one dog this evening as the theater doesn't allow dogs inside and he wasn't about to leave Padfoot hanging out in the cold for a couple hours. The lack of a familiar and specific "voice" to focus on in his head means that Lachlan is picking up all sorts of chatter from all dogs within 100 yards. Somehow, he's managing. He's dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and blue jeans in addition to gloves and jacket. An effort was made to comb his hair and make himself look presentable, even with the large patch of discolored skin on the left side of his face. The bandages have been removed and the bruising is healing; all that's left is a strip of gauze over the surgical incision on his cheek.

While not quite dressed up, Cass has pulled her hair into two short pony tails and is enjoying herself /much/ more this date than the last one. It's not Lachlan, it's the fact that the violence was contained on the screen. Even if it was a terrible movie in her opinion, it's fun to make fun of it and just laugh at the absurdity of it all. She's not really a snob when it comes to her entertainment on the silver screen. However, her enjoyment is also increased greatly by the fact that her date finally doesn't seem to be so nervous around her any more. "I think Nicholas Cage is actually crazy," Cass states, sure of her opinion. "It explains all of his career choices. And why he plays the same character all the time. He's just certifiable." She grins at that and reaches out to grab the Scot's hand. "It's nice to finally be able to see your whole face. Or most of it, anyway."

"Whaaa'? Nick Cage does just fine." Lachlan doesn't sound too terribly offended at the jab taken to the God of All Things on Wheels, though; just amused. And maybe a bit convinced that /Cass/ is the crazy one for expecting an actor to actually play dynamic roles instead of the same one in all his movies. Gaw. Silly Cass. When his hand is grabbed, the Scotsman grins wider and alters his steps a little to swerve and lean into the woman, playfully attempting to make walking a bit more difficult for her. "Ye think so? Was gettin' real bloody sick o' those bandages. Ye like the color?" It's a very pretty bruise, all yellowish and greenish (and bluish in some spots).

"I never said he wasn't doing /fine/. Just that he's crazy!" Cass isn't about to budge on this. It's a theory she's been working on for awhile. "Just look at his eyes. He's got that crazy look." Yes, it's a very scientific theory. When Lachlan attempts to swerve into her, she grins and pushes right back, trying to make it just as hard for /him/ to walk as he's making it for her. She doesn't let those things pass without retaliation. "I can imagine. Itchiness and the like." Stopping, she pulls Lachlan a bit closer, only just to make a big show of inspecting his bruises. "Yes, those are quite some lovely specimens you've got there. They're healing nicely, though. Soon they'll just be gross and brown." This girl really knows how to compliment.

All this pushing and fighting to make walking difficult is succeeding. One might think the pair was drunk, what with all the swerving and stumbling going on. When Cass stops and pulls him in, Lachlan's grin widens — and then there's bruise-inspecting. Pff. "Should o' seen the other guy," he remarks. The other guy that didn't have a mark on him. Yeah, /that/ would've been impressive. After a brief pause in which he seems to contemplate something, the Scotsman decides that the proximity is just too good to pass up. His grin fades a little and he moves his face down and forward, aiming for a kiss. Call it habit.

The bruise inspecting really was just a way for Cass to tease the Scot. It's just so easy to do! And fun. "I'm sure all he was good for was scaring small children once you were done with him." It would make for a better excuse for why the two of them were weaving and grinning like maniacs on the sidewalk if they were drunk, but it's not true. When Lachlan leans forward for the kiss, Cass tilts her head upward and meets him, raising up on her tip-toes just a bit so that the contact happens a couple of moments before he may be expecting it.

Well, /that/ was unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. Lachlan is certainly not breaking away anytime soon, but when he finally does, he doesn't go far. He simply rests his forehead against Cass' and exhales through his nostrils, smirking. "Wha'd ye take from m'pocket this time?" he teases, both hands going to his jacket pockets /just/ to be sure there's nothing missing. Nope. He's still got his cigarettes, lighter, and various miscellany that has accumulated there throughout the week.

This time it's not drugs or ulterior motives that bring on this kissing session and Cass seems quite happy to keep it going. Even if they are in the middle of the street. She does tug him a bit closer during and when Lachlan rests his forehead against hers, she grins at him. This time she holds up their movie ticket stub. It may have been from her own pocket, but the way she's grinning would make it assume that it's not. Okay, so it's not anything big, but she's proud to have taken it and not gotten grabbed for the efforts. "Me? Nooothing." She has bit of a devilish smirk on her face even though she's trying to sound and look innocent. "I am totally trustworthy and would /never/ attempt to steal from you." It's hard to keep from laughing now.

Yeah, Lachlan's totally buying that. Except not. When the ticket stub is held up, he scoffs and starts to feel around in his pockets with renewed fervor. Yep. Gone. His hands leave his jacket and drop to rest on Cass' waist, his eyebrows rising. "Yer a /liar/ is wha' ye are," he retorts with an amused grin. "Yer worse'n I am." At least he's /honest/ about being dishonest — however /that/ works. Just as he's moving in for another kiss, something sharp stabs into the back of his brain and he flinches. Distress signal from somewhere nearby. The Scotsman raises his head and turns it to frown at the entrance to a nearby alley.

Finally, Cass caves and giggles a bit. When Lachlan puts a hand on her waist, she puts her hand back in his pockets to return the ticket stub. When she pulls it out again, it's empty. She only steals for cheap tricks! "Mmm, I'm not sure how much you lie, so I can't tell if that's true or not." Laughing, she wraps her arms around his waist in a comfortable manner. She's waiting for another kiss, so when he moves in for one, she closes her eyes and waits for it. Only, it never comes. Opening her eyes, she tilts her head to the side a bit. "What's up?" Looking between Lachlan and the alleyway he's frowning at, she cocks an eyebrow curiously.

Thinking quickly, Lachlan does his best to cover: "Uh, ye dinna hear tha'?" Of course she didn't, because there was nothing, but it's better than saying, "A little dog voice in my head sounds like it's in trouble". He wants to ignore it and get on with his evening, but the dog is hurting really, really bad, and that's almost painful to him. After some hesitation, he starts to pull away from Cass and head toward the alley. "Gimme a sec." It won't take long, and then he can get back to the date.

"Hear…what? The street noise?" Cass looks around her. Everything is just normal New York city noise. Chatter, cars, buses, yelled obscenities. Nothing that even passes the built in filter that most New Yorkers have grown by living in a noisy city. When her date pulls away from her, she frowns. It's not that she minds the fact that they're not kissing any more - okay, she kind of does, but that's not all - it's that she's wondering what is going on. Instead of giving him a sec, she follows behind him. She's not about to just be left on the sidewalk. "It's, um, are you sure you should be investigating dark creepy alleyways because of a suspicious sound? That doesn't seem like a good 'I want to stay alive' move."

"Nah, it's, uh …" Lachlan gestures dismissively over his shoulder with one hand, too distracted to comprehensively finish the sentence. It's fine. He's sure it's fine. His investigation doesn't take him far into the alley, and he hones in instantly on a pile of garbage bags and rags. He crouches in front of them and starts to carefully dig in. After moving one bag, he's greeted by a sharp yelp of fear and pain, and he winces again. Ow. "Here we are," he mutters more to himself and the little stray mongrel he's uncovered than anyone else. "Yer a'righ', pup."

The dog in question is not all right at all. The ragged, brown mutt is bleeding from several bite wounds on its head and chest, and its left foreleg is broken grotesquely, the yellowed bone protruding from a tear in the skin. It's obviously been in a bit of a scrap and is terrified when it spots Lachlan and Cass, but it seems to immediately start to calm down as the Scotsman extends a hand to rest on its back. Lachlan, meanwhile, looks very distressed over the entire thing — far more distressed than one really ought to be upon finding an injured stray. He breathes out a quiet curse and glances at Cass. "Ye know a vet anywhere near here?"

The whole situation is very curious to Cass. And confusing. Though she pauses in the mouth of the alley, Lachlan doesn't venture too much further in so she follows in after. She's forming a question while he's garbage diving, but the discovery of a hurt dog cuts that short quite effectively. That was less of an investigation and more like he knew exactly where he was going. What? While she's trying to puzzle this all out, she realizes that she was asked a question. "A vet? Um…I think there's one a couple blocks down? I'm not totally sure, though. I don't really keep an eye out for them." She doesn't approach man and dog quite yet, though she's curious. Some part of her rational brain is reminding her that approaching injured strays is not a good idea at all. Now that they've found the poor thing, she realizes that they should help it. "We could probably carry it there."

So much for a date lacking in blood. Lachlan nods, returning his gaze to the dog, which he's started to lightly stroke along the spine. It still shivers and stares wide-eyed between both humans, but it's slowly losing that Frightened Puppy look. "A'righ'." The Scotsman scoots forward an inch or two and carefully wraps both hands around the dog's emaciated torso. It doesn't take much effort to lift the thing — being hardly the size of a beagle and severely thin, it doesn't weigh much. The dog puts up no fight and is soon securely tucked away inside Lachlan's jacket. He's careful about the injuries. When he's got the dog, he moves over to Cass again, frowning. "Looks like a figh'," he explains.

Cass keeps watching the whole scene, but she moves again once Lachlan joins her. At the comment, she nods her head and starts leading the way in the direction that she thinks is the vet's office. She waits a block or so before she decides to start asking the questions slowly forming in her mind. "How'd you know exactly where it was? It was like…I don't know if I can describe it. Radar or something. And why didn't it snap your hand off? It's a stray dog after being in a fight. I can't imagine it would be too friendly after that." This date was going so well before there was more blood and now more curious incidents.

During the silence that stretches between the exiting of the alley and the start of the walk to the vet's office, Lachlan takes the opportunity to work his magic on the dog. By the time Cass starts asking questions, the stray has calmed down so much, it looks as though it's on the verge of falling asleep inside Lachlan's coat. The dog trainer snaps out of his reverie when Cass speaks, and he looks at her as though noticing she's still there for the very first time. "Huh? Oh. 's, uh. 'S nothin'." Telling your date that you hear dog voices in your head? Yeah. Probably not the best thing to do. "Just, uh, lucky, I guess. An' I've allus been good with dogs." Yeah, /really/ good.

"Right." Cass doesn't really sound convinced. "Nothing." Not convinced at all. She glances over at the dog all but passed out in Lachlan's arms and her lips form an unbelieving line. "That's not just good with dogs. That's…dancing with wolves. Only with dogs." While she is mostly watching where she's going, Cass is pretty clumsy, so she breaks what she hopes is a penetrating gaze in Lachlan's direction in favor of making sure she doesn't trip over something and fall flat on her face. Or run into a lamp post or something. Wheels are turning.

Actually, Lachlan can dance with wolves too. He ought to take Cass to the zoo next time and show her. The Scotsman knows she's not convinced, and that makes him all sorts of nervous. Idiot. He should've been more careful about finding the dog, but … well, the situation was critical. Kinda. He frowns and rolls his shoulders, scowling at the sidewalk. After several moments of silence, he mumbles, "Yeah, well, mebbe it is." It's spoken in a low voice, hardly above a mutter.

It's just a little too hard to believe. All of it being luck. What she wants to do is ask him a million questions and figure out what is going on here, but she also doesn't want to turn their date into research digging and Lachlan into someone else she's investigating. While he's scowling and being silent, she's actually matching his expression and looking forward. "Alright. If you say it's nothing, it's nothing." She pauses, but decides to add to that as it's really kind of a passive aggressive answer an she doesn't like how it sounds. "Normally I'd ask you a million questions and try and figure out why you knew exactly where that dog was and why it's passing out on you as happy as a clam, but I don't want to do that." Another pause. "Okay, that's a total lie, I really want to do that. But I like you, Lachlan. And I don't want you to think I'm mentally dissecting you or something. And now that I've said that you're going to think that I am. And I'm not. Really. Or, well, I'm trying not to. I can't help it most of the time. I was a psychology major. It just kind of comes automatically."

The babbling catches Lachlan off-guard. He glances at her, and the longer the talking goes, the more bewildered and amused his expression gets. Mostly bewildered, though. Cass is /babbling/. It's kinda funny and cute, but she's also talking about dissecting his brain, which isn't as cute. He doesn't see fit to speak until it looks like there's a break in the sea of chatter. "Cass," he intones to get her attention, then pauses a moment before he sighs and looks away again, lips pursing. "'S just … somethin' I've been able ta do fer a while. Since I was wee. Dunno how ta explain it." If Cass thought her talking about mentally dissecting him was going to make him uncomfortable, he figures /this/ is going to make him look /insane/. Now /he's/ all nervous and uneasy again. After another pause, he shakes his head. "Nah, ferget it." Yes. Just forget he said anything about being a dog whisperer.

If it wasn't already evident, Cass can be quite a talker when she's nervous. Or when she's trying to get a point across that she's not sure about. Eventually, though, she has to stop for breath and when she does so Lachlan can get his word in edgewise. And that finally explains it. Mostly, that is. Things start to click into place. "What've you been able to do since you were little?" Cass doesn't sound like she thinks he's insane. "No, I'm curious." She really, really is.

Well, Cass is obviously not going to forget it, and she doesn't seem freaked out, so Lachlan continues — but not before nervously scrubbing his free hand over his nose, mouth, and chin. Hrrrrgh. This is worse than the time he told his sister. A /lot/ worse. He sniffs once, still keeping his gaze forward rather than on the woman walking next to him. "Since I was wee, I've been able ta … hear dogs. In m'head. 'Ve been able ta tell wha' they're thinkin'." Saying it aloud, even /he/ thinks he's crazy. He /sounds/ crazy. "An' I've been able ta talk back at 'em." Even /more/ crazy. He casts a furtive glance at Cass out of the corner of his eye to gauge how she's taking this.

Cass is taking it surprisingly well for being told that her date can talk and listen to dogs. While he may be looking only in front of him, her head is turned so she can watch him with a thoughtful expression. In fact, her only question of him is, "Only dogs?" It sounds like…she believes him. And isn't freaking out about it at all. She smiles reassuringly at Lachlan. "You know, there's a book I…" and all this trying to keep her date calm catches up with her. Because she's looking directly at him and not watching where she's going, she walks right into a sign post. Clang.

Chances are that Lachlan hasn't read a book on the subject. Honestly, a book? But this becomes quite immaterial. Cass is taking things so well, and Lachlan has even turned his head to look back at her in a relieved way — and then suddenly Cass is no longer walking next to him and he's staring into the street beyond. Wait, what? What just happened? His eyes widen in alarm and he glances back to find her slammed up against a sign post and he flinches. "Aw, fuck," he hisses, walking back toward her. "Cass, 're ye a'righ'?" His facial muscles are twitching and jerking uncontrollably has he fights to keep back a grin and a giggle. No matter who it was that walked head-on into a pole, it's /funny/.

Ow. That…ow. Cass stands right where she is for a moment, rubbing her face where it collided with steel. It stings. A lot. "Oooowwww." Slowly she starts to get her composure back and she feels like she can walk again without being dizzy. However, she keeps a hand on her face to try and keep all important things she may need inside of her head. That's when she looks over at Lachlan and notices that he's a feather fall away from bursting out laughing. That's when she gives him the best glare of death she can manage after having done something so stupid as run into a sign post. "If you laugh at me you are /so/ not coming back to my place after we fix that dog."

Oh, Lachlan's doing his damndest /not/ to laugh, and the result makes it look like he's on the verge of a seizure. His body jerks a bit with the pent-up fit of cackling he's holding back, and the muscles in his face writhe. He reaches out an arm to wrap around Cass' shoulders and offer her some support in walking (as well as giving himself something to squeeze to help control the laughter that's boiling somewhere in his belly). "Di'ye … break … anythin'?" He speaks haltingly and manages to contain himself quite well, except for a soft squeak in the middle there.

Cass figured that would do it. And, well, he mostly succeeds in not laughing at her. Even if the attempt of him trying not to is almost worse than him just having a guffaw and letting it be done with. "My pride. And possibly my cheek bone." She touches it tenderly, but it doesn't really feel broken. She doesn't shrug off Lachlan's arm around her shoulder, she's mostly superficially angry. And more annoyed at herself than anyone else. "Let's get to that vet so I can ask them for some ice. And possibly some morphine."

"A'righ', then." This is followed by a little chortling sound, but the giggle fit has mostly passed. Lachlan leans over to place a kiss on the uninjured side of Cass' face in a sympathetic sort of way. I'm sorry you are silly enough to walk into a pole.

The vet is reached in due course and ice is acquired after the stray is dropped off, but Cass will have to settle for whatever over-the-counter painkillers she's got back at her apartment — vets don't actually hand out morphine like candy, unfortunately. Still, in light of their first date, a little bruising and a busted-up stray dog is not a bad way to end the evening.

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