2009-11-13: Take The Reins

Starring:

Ivory_V4icon.pngTracy_V4icon.png

Date: November 13th, 2009

Summary:

Freedom and ambition and confessions.

Oh my.


"Take the Reins"

The Blue Door Restaurant

Washington, D.C.

"Come downstairs."

That was the only thing said into the phone that ran upstairs in Ivory's apartment. In fact, that was all it took to get the sling-hindered blonde to follow the voice that belongs to the illustrious politician that's come to be known as Senator Ivory Wynn.

The expensive limo door was opened by Ivory's personal Ghetto Driver, Gimmie Dat and the ride to the Blue Door was as uneventful as it possibly could be. If you don't count the random yells out the window from Gimmie Dat at the horrible D.C. drivers.

However, most of those things shan't matter anymore, now that the two of them have made it to their reserved table and everything. It's nights like this that will probably make going through all that hell recently worth it.

Even before Ivory has had time to explain anything, Tracy looks to be more at peace than she has been. Places like the Blue Door are as much her habitat as Capitol Hill, and as she settles in not-quite-across from Ivory (a little closer), she's ready for it. It's good to be in real clothes and a dress that isn't a leftover: in a mostly blue dress a few shades off of the sling on her arm, she looks very put together. Even without the string of pearls that usually accompanies her neck.

Tracy can only assume everything is alright. If she's free, able to go out in the world without the risk of being jumped in Georgetown, here in public with Ivory, everything has to be alright. Normally, she'd question it — be skeptical, cynical — but… she's confident. That's not to say she won't be asking questions. "You did it. Didn't you? We wouldn't be here if…"

"Shhhhh." Ivory says, holding up a finger to his lips. It's a small gesture, even as he settles into his own seat. But his eyes are forever on Tracy. "There's something I have to give you first." Ivory claims, pulling up a small gift bag (from Tiffany's or somewhere just as expensive!) and he plops it down onto the table. With a nudge of his finger, he slides the bag across the table and closer to the woman that's as beautiful as ever. "I might not need to answer that question once you see what's inside." And he's smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Tracy can't be shut up by jewellery! … Well, perhaps she can a little. Curious eyes shine from the bag to the Senator, a smile in place as her fingers sneak inside to draw out a string of pearls not unlike the one she lost somewhere in the shuffle of being a prisoner of the US government — a process that is woefully hard on jewellery.

"Ivory." The warmth in her expression refutes her reputation as an ice queen around these parts. "Thank you. They're lovely." Speaking of reputation, she doesn't seem to care what the other patrons of the restaurant might think as she inches her chair closer yet to Ivory — professionally speaking, her boss. She hands the necklace back — but her purpose is clear as she turns away and whisks her abundance of long hair over one shoulder to free her neck. "Still, I have to ask. Everything… went smoothly? I mean— I'm good, I'm… here, I'm not some kind of… fugitive?"

"You're perfect." is all Ivory says as he brings the pearls around her neck and works with practiced ease to get them fastened. Hands remain there for a moment, as if celebrating this night of nights. He finally pulls his hands back and clears his throat softly. "Well. Mostly. There is one condition that I need to tell you about." The pause isn't even as long as most dramatic pauses. "You're officially my responsibility. So anything and everything you do, is a direct reflection on this guy right here." He thumbs at himself. "So please don't do anything stupid, okay?" Grin.

Tracy touches the string of pearls at her throat; for a moment after they're clasped, her head remains bowed as she reflects, a smile ever-present. What is Ivory's definition of 'stupid'? That is the question. While Tracy would never think of doing anything remotely negative to Ivory personally, to mar his image, there is a pause. However, as she turns once more to face him, her eyes are bright, excited, and her smile only more brilliant. "Of course!" she answers with a sincere laugh. The woman is a glowing contrast to where she was only a few days ago. "I'll certainly try my best. You're some kind of miracle worker for even accomplishing what you did. You got me my life!" she says, adamant in her sincerity. "So, I have to know." Literally: she has to. Something about Ivory at the moment makes her want to know everything and devour his every thought. So, Tracy leans in, gesturing with the one hand she has use of. "What are your goals? I mean, if you managed to get me … amnesty — even with a clause — you can do anything."

"I'm going to save the world." Ivory says, just as plainly as he possibly can. His own leaning in is drawing him closer to the female that has just been pearl necklaced. He's showing no qualms about speaking about himself and his plans. He's very much into making sure that he's the tap priority and talk of the town, when it comes down to it. "It's going to take a little time, but I'm sure that I'll be able to convince the President to call off his dogs and just leave the people like your beautiful self alone. That's the ideal goal, anyway."

"And you're going to save the world." Tracy sounds ever-so-incredulous, but her tone is good-natured — laughing at it one second and accepting it the next. That line may've sounded good to Peter, but Tracy isn't quite so idealistic — oh, she believes Ivory, whole-heartedly, but she just needs some plans in her hands. "From what, exactly? Oppression? America?" Once again, she laughs a bit and goes on — maybe it was a rhetorical question after all. Or maybe it doesn't matter.

Tracy reaches out to lay her hand over Ivory's. "If you play your cards right…" she begins, giving the high-class restaurant a watchful glance around before continuing, her every word intensely motivated … and hushed, given what she's about to say. "You could throw him right out of office by the end of this. You'd be the hero, lining you up to be a prime candidate for the Presidency yourself when the time comes! The White House is where you belong Ivory."

That heavy note is naturally when their waiter arrives.

Ivory blinks a little bit. Not that there's anything wrong with what Tracy's saying, but he's just kind of a little taken aback by her… thought process. The blinking stops and he does smile, but it's one that comes with a bit of wariness attached to it. "I'm flattered that you think I could do such a good job there. But I'm afraid thats a dream that I likely won't get to accomplish." Ivory just kind of shrugs, though he refuses to move his hand from underneath the one that's sitting semi-across from him. "I'm trying to change the face of politics. And if I'm going to do that, I don't think robbing the our current President of his seat would be too kosher." And now it's time for a joke. "Now the Vice President, on the other hand…"

Tracy's smile disappears for an instant as she readies a protest against Ivory's more demure reply, but returns as a pleased grin in no time, whether Ivory's joke was really a joke or not. "Well that wouldn't be so bad. The President does seem to listen to you." At least sometimes — as in her case. Nonetheless, the lofty planning for Ivory practically writes itself all over her face. She has high hopes and a lot of faith for this one. Then— oh look, a waiter is lingering. She sits up a bit straighter, but keeps her hand on Ivory's.

Ivory raises an eyebrow, ready to say he was just kidding but when there's a lingering waiter, he decides to just let the ball bounce off the court. He is, after all, more worried about keeping things going the way they should be going than continuously trying to weave through the plots coming to Tracy's mind and such. "Ah, yes. We're definitely going to need some wine. We're celebrating tonight." And then he makes some silence happen, so that Tracy can order whatever it is on the menu that she would love to partake in. His order of delicious steaky goodness follows it.

Tracy is more focused on Ivory than what the restaurant has to offer, but she orders some manner of soup and salad and hands the menu back with a polite smile for the waiter. "I wonder if he overheard any of that." She gives the waiter a rather considering stare as he heads off, momentarily getting lost in her thoughts before, naturally, focusing back on the Senator.

Ivory is unconcerned with the waiter. Mostly because he's Ivory Wynn and he's not worried about anything right now. Not after he managed to pull off the miracle of the decade. At least, in his own eyes. And possibly in Tracy's eyes. "Hey. No paranoia tonight, okay? Nobody's out to get us anymore. We're in the clear. Just relax and have a good time." Ivory's eyes travel to that sling on Tracy's arm next and he frowns. "We can get that taken care of tomorrow. Now that you're cleared for take off, as it were." He doesn't like seeing her hurt, obviously.

Effectively dissuaded from paranoia for the time being, Tracy glances down at her arm. "It's getting better," she confesses with some surprise. "Peter… he can heal. I'm not sure what he can't do." The words are spoken with more wonder over the strangeness of it all than any admiration. "It'll still be a challenging for a while, but, I can get back to work. It's been too long." Roughly ten days that felt like a hundred. More. "I'm ready."

"If you're sure. I don't want to push you. You happen to be dating your boss, you know. I'd take advantage of my kind and naive nature for as long as I possibly could, if I were you." His smile creeps back to his features as he works on keeping the woman's spirits up. He can't have her thinking everybody's out to get her. That'll be bad for his career. "You really think I'd make a good president?" Okay, someone -that- invested in his political career just can't leave well enough alone. He had to ask.

"Absolutely, and why not?" Tracy is quick to answer, and with a raised brow to add to her question. "You have the career background. You have the instincts. You have the ambition. You're good with words and people love you. You said it yourself: you're trying to change the face of politics. Plus, you have an excellent advisor who knows what she's talking about."

The waiter comes to deliver their wine, filling their glasses with the finest and leaving the bottle before weaving back into the fray of politicians and socialites in the Blue Door.

Tracy reluctantly extracts her hand from Ivory's to take a glass and sip. "It's all in front of you. You just have to take the reins you've been given ride the horse."

Senator Wynn is also reaching for his glass to grab the wine and take a sip. His eyebrows raise as he hears Tracy's last statement and he just kind of smiles. Granted, his kind of smile is something that doesn't quite belong to this topic of political conversation, but he's always smiling like that. So it may be a bit hard to not pay attention to. Especially when he's bringing the glass of wine back to his lips to buy himself some time to respond. "Well. When you put it like that, how could I not want to take this ride?" He finally sets his wine glass back down on the table. "What's our first move?"

Tracy gives Senator Wynn eyes over the rim of her glass as she takes another drink. She's more than willing to lay out a plan of action. Right now, however… she sets her wine down on the table. "Y'know, we can talk about it tomorrow." Dismissive? Completely, and not even especially politely, but she has her reasons — such as the flush that's come to her cheeks on top of the rosy tinge that's already present.

Unabashed, she reaches out to touch Ivory's face, to take his jaw, as she draws herself close to kiss him passionately. She's driven. Not only by lust; after a long moment, when she pulls back breathless, Tracy has something to say. Something that's uncharacteristic but one-hundred-and-ten percent felt. She isn't even entirely aware that she's saying it out loud. "I love you."

Ivory's hand is on the glass of wine for the longest time. In fact, things sort of fall into a round of slow motion after he's managed to get his lips back from the woman that had just stolen them for a small eternity. His eyes are slightly wide and blinking slowly as he brings himself back to the land of the Blue Door, since he's been mentally hurled to all sorts of other places. He's forgotten all about the planning session as he's been smacked by to reality by the three words he never thought he'd hear from someone like Tracy. "I… you…" Wow. He's almost speechless. "You do?" Even though he's still in shock, he's realizing that he's sounding much the role of the unpopular kid talking to the head cheerleader. Is he on Candid Camera?

No cameras. A few stares from other restaurant goers, but no cameras. None that can be seen. Ms. Strauss and Senator Wynn's romantic relations, while not the most upstanding thing for professional reputations, is probably not the story of the century on either of them. Let's be honest.

Ivory's response brings Tracy back to reality herself. Reality is a place where you can't take anything back. She looks into his eyes with astonishment. "U-uhm." Her hand drops quickly to Ivory's shoulder instead, slightly hesitant there. She looks away sharply, panic and emotion blending unfamiliarly. "I." It takes a moment or two, but she calms, becomes sure again. "I dunno. Sure. Maybe. It's… not something I was looking for, but there it is. That's not a bad thing. Is it?"

"No!" Ivory's quick to swing his hand up to catch her hand on his shoulder and he squeezes at it tightly. Just to help with this. His face contorts from surprised to something else altogether entirely. Something much more happy. "It's just… I didn't know you felt that way. I'm…. wow." He then kind of glares lustfully at the woman. "Hey. What say we skip the rest of this dinner and head straight for some dessert?" Oh dear. See what she's done. Her admission has stirred up some feelings within the Senator.

What doesn't stir up feelings in the Senator? If she weren't so affected by him, Tracy might react a little differently to his forwardness time and time again, but she doesn't so much as roll her eyes tonight. Instead, she looks at Ivory with a sentiment that matches his. "Fine by me Senator."

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