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Post by Typhoid on Aug 10, 2009 20:20:06 GMT -5
"One would hope not," she said wryly. "After St. Patrick's Day that seems to be a running theme in my life."
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 10, 2009 22:17:55 GMT -5
::The remark was met with silence, as Pietro did not know how best to reply. Rossignol was speaking to him again, and they were going on their first date since Valentine's Day; he did not wish to ruin the mood with blunt opinions. At the same time, he did not go in for deprecating humor, nor did he have any pleasant comments on the Saint Patrick's Day attack.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 10, 2009 22:45:02 GMT -5
She turned to look at him. "What are you thinking?" she asked, softly. It wasn't meant to provoke a disagreement; the silence bothered her in that it seemed as if he was not saying something he wanted to.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 11, 2009 21:19:33 GMT -5
::Pietro could not turn his head, as traffic had begun to move, and he needed his attention for the road. However, he replied,:: "I don't want to talk about Saint Patrick's Day, if it is the same to you."
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 11, 2009 21:47:53 GMT -5
Her first reaction, had it been any other time, was to question why. But she also had the feeling that such a conversation would go down a path neither of them wanted to pursue while trying to have a subdued night out. It didn't, however, improve her mood either. "All right," she replied, leaving it at that for now.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 11, 2009 21:59:41 GMT -5
::The acquiescence was all Pietro could ask, perhaps all he could expect. He nodded slightly, and passed a car on the right; they were nearing the Village.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 11, 2009 22:21:51 GMT -5
She turned her attention to the window as they neared where they were supposed to be, attempting to calm down, although she doubted her disquiet would be visible. She didn't like being limited in discussing anything, particularly with the person closest to her.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 11, 2009 22:29:26 GMT -5
::A few more minutes and they reached the restaurant. Pietro had to spend more time than he would like searching for a parking space, but he found one only a block and a half away, and he parked the car. Turning off the engine, he exited and circled around to her side to open her door.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 11, 2009 22:41:21 GMT -5
She held out her hand to him as she got out of the car, her disquiet leading to an automatic desire for physical contact, moving aside so he could shut the door.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 11, 2009 22:56:04 GMT -5
::Pietro took her offered hand and held it for a moment, while he pushed the car door closed with his other hand. The doors locked, and he gave her his arm.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 11, 2009 23:02:27 GMT -5
She took his arm in hers, leaving him to direct her to exactly where the restaurant was. She knew the address, but that did nothing for practical directions.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 12, 2009 21:23:56 GMT -5
::After walking the block and a half, they arrived at the restaurant; Pietro was glad to have dressed appropriately seeing the other clientele. He held the door open for her, and then entered behind her.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 12, 2009 21:37:32 GMT -5
She went up to the hostess, by this time calmed down enough to enjoy the evening, and gave a last name and their reservation time. The name she gave was "Maximoff." The hostess nodded and gestured for them to follow her to a small table for two. Ty turned and held her hand out to Pietro.
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Post by Pietro Maximoff on Aug 12, 2009 21:39:13 GMT -5
::Pietro did not mind that she used his last name; he had told her before, and would continue to quite sincerely, that she was family. When she offered her hand, he placed it on his arm, and walked beside her to their table.::
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Post by Typhoid on Aug 12, 2009 21:45:00 GMT -5
After they were seated and given small menus, the hostess left. Il Buco was small, but it had a good menu and wasn't incredibly pricey, which was good, and the atmosphere was quiet, with the room dimly lit for evening. She smiled at Pietro over the edge of her menu. "Time to start over?" she asked softly.
((And it appears the restaurants website is down, so feel free to wing it as far as food))
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