[oom: Dinner with captainryan]

[hell_in_highheels]

[from here]

River arrives in the bar just before seven in the evening, and secures a table for two in a cozy corner of the bar.  She's dressed casually, wearing her favourite Irish sweater, jeans and her tan field boots.  But she has to confess, she's spent a bit more time with her hair and her face.

For as interesting as Richard is, he is also a good looking man.

She orders a glass of pinot noir, and waits, watching the faces in the crowd.  When she sees him, she smiles broadly and holds up a hand.

Comments

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan rolls his eyes good naturedly. "He gets plenty of treats without being fed from the table."

He's probably rooting through the remains of last month's kill right now.

[hell_in_highheels]

"I'd still spoil him, you know that." She takes a sip of her wine and smiles at him over the rim of her glass.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Why do you think I let him outside?"

Because he didn't want to deal with interrupting questions in canine about what they were doing.

If they were to do something, that is.

[hell_in_highheels]

She laughs and shakes her head, looking down and toying with the edge of her napkin.

She's beginning to think she wore the wrong shoes.

The rat shows up with their appetisers and his drink, and evaporates again as quickly as it came.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

There is nothing wrong with hardy footwear. You never know when you might need it. He's still wearing his sidearm, after all, underneath the loose billows of his shirt.

Ryan sniffs the meat appreciatively before taking a small sip of his Guinness. Only then does he reach for a rib. He refuses to start wolfing his food in front of her, no matter how hungry he is.

"So, have you done anything particularly interesting since yesterday?"

[hell_in_highheels]

"Well, funny you should ask." She props her chin on her hand. "I did go back to the Library. And having never met a werewolf before, I thought a little research was in order. Now, research in the Library, it can be a very intense, interactive experience."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan arches an eyebrow.

"You implied that it's all digital. Is it something like an interactive video game?"

He's sure they'll get to what she found in a moment.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Mmm, more like a holo room, except limited only by the source material. Imagine reading Death In The Long Grass, only you're physically on the plains of Africa hunting big game."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan makes an understanding noise. (He has food in his mouth.)

Once he swallows: "You can't be hurt, can you?"

He's not really certain what a holo room entails, but holograms are just light, right?

[hell_in_highheels]

"Well, you can be restored from back up." Her eyebrows soar for a moment, and she covers her unease by taking a sip of wine, and then diving into the ribs.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan stares at her a moment.

He's had the experience of a werewolf chewing on him. It's not one he cares to repeat. Ever.

"Are you saying," he begins once he's recovered, "that the only way for you to research werewolves is for you to encounter them face to face?"

[hell_in_highheels]

"No, not the only way. Or even the preferred way, really."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Oh, good," Ryan says mildly. "What did you encounter, then?"

Because she should not get herself torn to pieces when he's perfectly capable of answering her questions himself.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Several different species, some fully lupine in nature, some half lupine, half human. Some only human, but mentally compromised. Some in packs, some solitary."

She watches his eyes, waiting for the unspoken answers.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan meets her eyes. It's in his nature to do so, but he's blinking too.

"Some of that applies to me," he agrees. Did his world have species? He never got the chance to find out.

He tilts his head thoughtfully. "I'm not even certain you could call my other...shape half lupine."

[hell_in_highheels]

The academic in her can be clinical when she wants, but she's not sure this is the time or the place.

"I think that might be a discussion to have over coffee. After dinner?" She gives him a soft smile.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's silent a moment.

"Of course," he says, smiling slightly. He didn't mean to make her uncomfortable. He should've been paying more attention to her scent.

"Why don't you tell my about who built the Library?" That's something she should enjoy speaking about, right?

[hell_in_highheels]

Her hand comes to rest on his and her touch is warm. "It's all right, I don't mind talking about it. It's just -- pleasant things first."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

His own hand is warmer. Werewolves have a high metabolism.

His eyes drop to her hand, but he's looking back up at her a moment later without having moved. Touch is still one of those things that his instincts fight with his training over.

"Fair enough," he answers. She's only confirmed what he was thinking, though.

[hell_in_highheels]

She withdraws, her eyes turned down. "As near as we can tell, the Library was built some time in the 42nd century, by the same family that manages the Trust today. They took over four centuries to acquire the majority of the texts within, and the AI continues to process the back log to this day."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan's a hair frustrated. He didn't mean to make her feel chastised, either. He's smiling, isn't he? Wait, did he show his teeth? No, and that wouldn't mean anything to her anyway.

Okay, let's focus on the conversation at hand, shall we?

"The Trust? As in a bank trust?" After his time, obviously.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Sort of," she continues, meeting his gaze again. "A philanthropic trust, actually. You can imagine that the Acquisitions wing of a Library the size of a planet is quite formidable. It is said they even have all the texts that have yet to be written on record, though how that can possibly be, I don't know."

She could drown in those eyes, she thinks. And then her heart pounds in her throat. Where on earth did that thought come from?

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's trying to ignore it. Really. They just met, they barely know each other, but every time she meets his eyes, there's a rise in that scent and-

She really is quite beautiful, isn't she?

He can focus on this conversation, really. He's had to ignore scents before. Every day, every time he meets a human and their scent gets thrown at him. They smell good.

She smells good and it's not just because she's human.

Conversation, Ryan. It's your turn to speak.

"I suppose if someone has access to a time machine, it'd be quite simple," he says, gathering his thoughts. "Or even just access to this place." Head tilt. "Which you do, so, technically, that's correct, then, isn't it?"

[hell_in_highheels]

That gets a dry chuckle. "Well, it's not exactly the TARDIS, but I think the question is more whether or not this is the real Milliways, or a representation contained within the AI's data core."

Her eyes get wide and she smiles as she continues, laughing quietly. "I am an archaeologist, not a philosopher. I'm not trained for these sorts of questions."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan arches an amused eyebrow at her. "I'd rather prefer to think that I'm a real being and not just some program run by a computer." That's actually rather creepy, if one thinks about it.

"But philosophers have been asking that sort of question since forever. There really isn't much point fretting over it, I've always thought, since there's really no way to tell."

He should know. He majored in the subject.