savetheearth | (no subject)

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Who: Ace and Misato
What: Being late to a date like a champ
Where: Locke City, movie theater
When: Saturday evening
Warnings: Vague The Amazing Spider-Man 2 spoilers whoops

Working Criminal Investigation for the FBI means your average workday is a downer at best, dangerous at worst, and downright stressful the rest of the time. Add in a shuffling police force and a Numbered murder and it's a recipe for unpleasantries coming at you in every direction, even on the network.

He would have followed through with their date plan anyway, of course - Mistao just seems to get it when he talks to her about Numbered matters, and they mesh very well - but there's an added need to just do something relaxing that guides him to the theater. Though he's confident he can maintain an air of cheer (it's his specialty, after all) he can't quite help being acutely aware of the line of tension that pulls him taught, like a too-tight marionette string. He rolls his shoulders, to no avail, and elects to simply shrug it off.

Plus... well... he'd been entirely honest when he'd said he likes superhero movies. It seems like a winning combination all around.

He makes an effort to leave his apartment early for the sole pupose of arriving early. Which, naturally, means that he gets lost twice along the way, has to ask for directions, and ultimately ends up fifteen minutes late (without even having any Starbucks) and mildly frazzled. Showing up late is rude! And leaves a bad impression! And he should really know where the theater is by now!

It's how he ends up moving his way through the crowd milling in front of the theater with various excuse me, pardon me's - easy thanks to his height, and he sends yet another quiet thanks to the Height Gods for smiling upon him - and muttering quiet curses under his breath. Misato is surely here by now. He can just hope she's not put out with his ongoing ineptitude.

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Misato's willing to buy that excuse -- if only because Ace is new to town. Google Maps and GPS could only be so reliable -- especially with all the tall commercial buildings around. The lousy GPS in her car started to act up the moment she entered the city; apparently the height of the city skyscrapers kept it from getting a reliable satellite signal.

Misato finds it increasingly difficult to hide her own mirth behind that pout of hers. She completely gives up the act the moment he attempts to make amends.

"I'll forgive you this time, then," she says with a laugh. "Hope you don't mind, but I already bought our tickets." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the two movie tickets. She passes one off to Ace, then proceeds to make the walk towards the theater doors.

"It's been awhile," she remarks as she pushes open the doors. "How's work been treating you?"

"Oh-" He looks down at the ticket in surprise for a moment, then over at Mistao as she begins marching toward the doors. He turns to rush after her, sifting through the crowd with a bit more expertise this time. "Hey, thanks! I owe you. Remind me to give you some cash."

He rolls his right shoulder again as he follows her into the theater, but he finds some of the tension slipping away. By the time they have their ticket stubs torn, he already feels better than he has all day. Of course, he could simply say that work is fine and leave it at that. But somehow, he doesn't feel particularly compelled to lie.

"Work.... well," he smiles to himself, and it might be a tad self-deprecating. "Things have been better, I guess! But what're ya gonna do, right? Bills to pay and all that." He should probably be more honest with her about what it is he actually does, and he makes a mental note to approach that subject once he sees how the evening goes.

"What about you? Any good gigs? Exciting developments? How's Pen2?"

"Don't worry about it," she says, with the wave of the hand. A government contractor probably wasn't making as much money as she was modeling, anyway. Not that she'd ever mention this aloud. Most guys preferred to think of themselves as the breadwinners in the relationship. And though Ace definitely didn't seem like one of those guys, she didn't want to risk it. Not when things seemed to be going so well already.

"Yeah, I guess so," she says with a smile. "Can't say my work week's been all that different from yours, honestly. I actually had to turn down some work because of some uh--" They need some sort of shared code word for Numbered for use in public. "--stuff," she supplies.

Misato queues up in line for popcorn and soda. The trailers are probably still rolling and she'd much rather be properly hydrated for the two and a half hours of the film than be able to sit through a bunch of trailers she saw the week before when she watched Sergeant USA.

Besides, it'll give them a little more time to talk before the film starts.

"Pen 2's doing just fine. I actually managed to get someone to set up something like the, uh--" Misato suddenly goes quieter. "--other-me had in her apartment." And then it's back to its normal loud and cheerful tone. "He's actually pretty happy right now. I kind of envy him, you know?"

"Stuff," he echoes, half wry and half amused. He knows what she's referring to, of course, though he's wise enough not to inquire further. It does put a concerned furrow in his brow for just a moment, though. What kind of "stuff" was disruptive enough to pull her out of work? Mental note: pry further once they're not in danger of being overheard.

Ace surreptitiously plucks two boxes of Raisinets off of the stand as they wait, queue slowly moving them along. They probably won't even last through the first twenty minutes of the movie, but damn if he can't afford more than two. They practically cost more than his entire day's meals combined.

"I'm glad Mr. Handsome is getting some nice digs." He grins a bit; he has no idea what this "something" set-up is, and hesitates to ask about penguin habitats in the middle of a crowd, so he elects to picture the little guy sitting in a fancy armchair, monocle in place and dashing eyebrows on full display. "Careful not to spoil him, though; there's no going back once you do that."

He taps the candy boxes against his palm as the line moves up, grin giving way to - not quite a frown, but certainly something much more thoughtful.

"It's kinda worrying when you say stuff like that, though. Envying the happy camper, I mean." Happy people don't envy other happy people, after all. So is there something else...? "What's up? Did something happen?"

Ace's mental image isn't too different from the reality. Pen-Pen does, in fact, live in a pretty swanky freezer. Apparently, the penguin was pretty particular about his habitat both here and there.

Wherever there was before, anyway. It did bother Misato, somehow, not knowing where these things came from. If he was from an alternate dimension, was he no longer in that dimension? Did that mean that the other-Misato was now penguinless? Or if it was like others said and they were reincarnated, where did Pen 2 come from? Was he risen from the grave by the forces-that-be? Or was he reincarnated too, only to be delivered to her at that particular moment?

These were the sort of things that Misato inevitably ended up pondering while in the shower.

"He's already spoiled," she says, with a wave of the hand. "I still don't know how I'm going to explain him when my parents come over, though. I've managed to avoid any surprise visits until now, but it's only a matter of time before they drop by unannounced and realize their daughter's in possession of a potentially illegal new pet.

They take another step forward as another customer moves out of the queue, hands filled with a humongous tub of popcorn and two drinks.

"Oh, it's nothing serious," Misato says, waving her arms in front of her. "It just seems like it takes so little for him to be happy. It's a nice, simple life. Being human -- that's a whole lot more complicated."

"The folks, huh..." It comes out a bit wistful despite his best efforts. His communication back home tends to be limited to obligatory holidays, and rarely any time in-between. It's a blessing and a curse, in some ways. He certainly doesn't have to worry about anyone dropping by unexpectedly and asking too many questions, nor does he really have to worry about explaining supernatural occurrences, since he's hardly in contact with his father anyway...

Still. Having parents who are engaged enough to drop by out of the blue sounds... nice.

He rummages for his wallet as they approach the cash register, mulling over the implications of all of that.

"Are you gonna explain anything to them?" He's started referring to it as coming out of the superhero closet in his head. "I know everyone's situation is different, but... I dunno. It just seems easier, in some cases."

He stands back once the person in front of them finishes their purchase, letting Misato go first. Manners, after all!

"Finding happiness in little things is just an animal thing, if all those Youtube videos of dogs are any indication." He's not even going to pretend he doesn't spend inordinate amounts of his freetime watching cute animal videos on Youtube. Anyone who doesn't is clearly using the internet wrong. "What makes you happy? I'm sure there are some simple things mixed in there, too. We just gotta take advantage of them."

"I keep telling the younger ones to tell their folks," she says, suddenly embarrassed. "You'd think I'd take my own advice."

A beat.

"I guess the difference between me and them is that I have a choice in the matter. If you suddenly sprout wings or your eyes change to some crazy color and you live with your folks, well, you can't really avoid it. Or them, really. But truthfully, I don't know how they're going to react. All I can really do is speculate."

Misato takes a step forward as another theater patron leaves with a tub of popcorn large enough to feed a family of four.

"I think that they wouldn't want me involved. And honestly, I don't blame them for feeling that way. If my mom or dad were a Numbered, I'd feel exactly the same. But this isn't something that you can say 'No' to. You can't close your eyes and put your fingers in your ears and pretend that nothing's going on because there's always going to be a chance that you're going to remember something or suddenly grow a third eye even if you don't want to."

Misato scratches her cheek. "Sorry, I'm getting kind of off-topic, aren't I?" Her lips quirk up into a smile, though, at Ace's next question.

"I like eating good food, kicking punching bags, and nice clothes." All simple, right?

"I also really like doing things with you."

"'Do as I say, not as I do' was my Pops' favorite saying. We're all better at giving good advice than we are at taking it."

After all, he walks around keeping things from everyone, pretty much all the time. Not by design, necessarily, but because there never seems to be much point in over-sharing. For every time he's suggested someone tell their parents the truth about their being Numbered, he never once considered doing it himself.

"You should let me know how it goes if you do tell them. I don't know your folks at all, but somehow I feel like it'll be fine; you don't have any wings or third eyeballs or anything yet, and I can't imagine anyone taking issue with a well-behaved bird friend."

He trails off as his eyes follow the departing man and his barrel of popcorn, with some weird mix of impressed envy and befuddlement. How can anyone eat that much popcorn? No, more importantly, how can anyone afford that much popcorn?

He's only distracted from this crisis when Misato moves on to her simple pleasures. He can't quite resist a grin.

"Flatterer." Accusingly, almost, but he certainly seems genuinely pleased with that last one. "You should be careful with things like that, or you'll give a guy a huge ego. Though... if you're into kick-boxing, I imagine you could handle self-involved guys without any problems."

Misato opens her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the loud, hurried shout of the cashier:

"Next!"

"A small popcorn and Coke please," she says, offering her card to the cashier. The card is swiped, Misato is presented with her card and receipt, and the cashier moves to fill a bag with popcorn.

Which gives Misato just enough time to ask Ace a few questions of her own.

"I guess so," she says with a laugh. "I try to remain civil, though." But back to their initial topic of conversation. "What about you?" she asks. "What's your relationship with your parents like? You think they'd be okay with you being a Numbered?"

"Here you go!" The cashier presents Misato with her soda and popcorn then directs her attention to Ace. Misato steps aside as she waits for Ace to pay for his own snacks.

He plops his boxes of candy down on the counter after exchanging the requisite niceties with their cashier, then mulls the question over a bit. He keeps everything vague now that the cashier might conceivably eavesdrop.

"Well... my Pops has always been the real traditional sort. Prim and proper and all that. It might be a military thing." As he hands the cashier his card, he can pretty easily imagine his father's reaction being some mix of polite disbelief and denial.

"If I told him, he probably wouldn't take me seriously, and then change the subject to something else... something that doesn't make him uncomfortable. But we don't really have a lot in common, anyway. I never talk to him much."

His mother had been a different story entirely, but... well, she's been out of the picture for a while now.

He gives her an airy shrug and a grin before he can mull that over too long or too hard. Instead he snatches his freshly-purchased candy boxes off the counter and gestures in the direction of their assigned theater. "But hey, why worry about it, right? It's like you said, we're not really obligated the way the kids are."

Misato knows better than to prod any further. Not everyone has had the privilege to live a childhood with involved, loving parents like she had. If Ace wants to say more later, well, she'll hear him out. But for now, she's stepping back and letting him make the next move.

Well, sort of. When Ace gathers his candy from the counter, Misato shifts her drink into her other hand, and smooshes her popcorn in the narrow space between her arm and her chest. And as she passes her, the tip of her fingers brush against his until she reaches out and grasps his hand in her own.

"You're right," she says with a nod of agreement. And the two of them slip into the theater just as the trailers roll to an end.

They're sitting in the coffee shop -- L's coffee shop, in fact -- after the movie when Misato sets down her coffee and leans over the table with a frown.

"I liked it," she begins, because her rants always require a disclaimer. "It just stinks that Quinn Macy had to die like that."

A disclaimer probably isn't necessary.

"It was totally pointless!" he agrees, leaning emphatically across the small table. He hesitates for a moment once he realizes the vehemence (and volume) of his reply, dropping his voice some.

"I mean- they took a lot of liberties from the original, right? That's practically the whole point of going to see the movie! So you can see it in a way you didn't imagine when you were 13 and reading the comic. And they had it all set up perfectly for her to fly to England and live her dream, but then-!"

He waves his hands around for emphasis, then sighs deeply and reaches for the plate of donuts set between them. He'd purchased a good half-dozen, confident that if they don't polish them off tonight, he'll be set for breakfast the next morning.

"If you're gonna change up a whole bunch of stuff anyway, why not take out the dumbest of all the plotlines, y'know?"

"Yeah," Misato agrees with the nod of a head. "I mean, I hadn't read the original comics, so I didn't even know that her death was a thing, but... What's the point of making a movie that's so radically different from the original if you're still going to be married to a character death?"

Misato lets out a long sigh.

"It just seems like all the cool female characters in the TV shows and movies I watch end up getting killed off for the development of a male character. I wouldn't mind so much if it were more evenly split, but it always feels like the ladies are the ones who get shafted in the end."

Misato selects a donut from the plate between them, then frowns down at it. It's not the donut that she's disappointed with.

"I just hate the idea that when I die, it'll just be part of some other person's character arc."

He nods knowingly while she speaks, with a look of exaggerated solemnness. "Don't worry, though," he says off-handedy. "I'm sure your story arc will be so awesome that no other character can hold a candle to it." It's probably one of the weirder compliments a person can receive, but it's genuine even if it's dumb.

His favorite characters are almost always the awesome ladies, so this is all stuff he's thought about at least a few times, particularly when yet another of his favorite characters gets killed off or written out. It's nice to hear it echoed back at him for once, though, rather than receiving a blank stare that no doubt precedes a 'dude, you know it's just a movie, right?'

"—Wait, I have the solution to this!" This, perhaps referring to their mutual state of Very Unimpressed. "I'll just have to get you to watch a few of my favorites! There's none of this pointless character death stuff in those, I'll even pinky-promise on it!"

That's kiiiiind of like a third date request, right? Kind of. Mostly. Very subtle and smooth.

Okay, so it might be a pretty weird compliment, but it's one that Misato is more than willing to take. A small part of her was hoping that the other-her was heroic and strong; unfortunately, though, she hasn't had many Echoes to validate these particular wishes.

Still, Ace's enthusiasm is more-than-a-little catching, and Misato can't help but smile at how completely into it he seems.

"Of course," she says -- and Ace has his third date. "What movies are you talking about, anyway?"

She's curious to know if she and Ace share a similar taste in movies. Outside of The Amazing Tarantula-Man, of course!

"Well," he starts, and then immediately hesitates. He hadn't entirely thought this through before blurting it out, though the offer had been a genuine one.

For as long as can remember, his friends have called him every variation of a gigantic baby - with, he concedes, good reason. He'd much rather watch things that have a narrative of hope, stories that focus on the plausibility of peace, things that just plain leave you with warm fuzzies once they're over. That's not to say that he's entirely opposed to grittier, more realistic things. But they aren't the ones he'd recommend in light of this conversation.

No, what he has in mind is something that doesn't kill needlessly, that praises peace and harmony, that emphasizes love and friendship in all of their glory- ...

"Um. Okay- don't laugh. I'll throw this donut at you." He points said donut at Misato to illustrate the severity of this threat, then leans forward and lowers his voice some, as if conveying a deep, dark secret. "But have you ever heard of Sailor Sun before?"

If Ace's threat is supposed to intimidate, it doesn't work; all it really manages to do is draw out another one of Misato's smiles. Still, it vanishes when he leans forward and starts to whisper -- if only because she's sure he really is about to convey some deep, dark secret.

Only... he doesn't. Misato's eyes widen, and before long, that smile is back on her face again.

"Sailor Sun? Who hasn't? That show was super popular when I was a kid. Half the girls had Sailor Sun backpacks and lunchboxes."

Which of course means that Misato was among the gaggle of girls playing Sailor Sun on the playground during recess.

"I haven't seen it in ages, though. I barely remember it."

"In that case, get this: they're making a new one." Ace spends enough time on the internet. He knows things.

He leans back in his seat with a grin, reaching for his coffee this time. "We should watch it one weekend, for nostalgia's sake. It'll probably be more empowering than most Hollywood stuff, anyway."

Not to mention less depressing. As much as he loves his various superhero series, he also hates going to see movies like this with people; he has to pretend he isn't sniffling pathetically when that's exactly what he's doing. Maybe if he's lucky, Misato didn't notice.

Misato thankfully didn't notice -- she was too absorbed in the movie to catch Ace's sniffles. Not that it would have mattered; there was a good chance that it would have endeared Ace to her more. Most of the guys she dated previously weren't prone to displays of emotion. Ace could be emotive, but it was one of the things that Misato liked about him.

"Really? That's certainly something!" Her lips quirk into a smile as she reaches for another donut. "I'm kind of nervous about re-watching the old one, though. I made the mistake of watching some 90s movies I loved as a kid, and I ended up really disappointed as an adult."

She takes a bite of her donut.

"So what are they doing with the new one, anyway?"

"Um... I'm not sure, actually." It is here that his research fails him. "Making it prettier, maybe? Since they have all that fancy technology for animating things these days."

He takes a contemplative sip of his coffee, then sighs. "Honestly, I'd meant to look it up, but work's been so crazy that I haven't even had time to color-sort my socks before washing them. This is the first fun thing I've done in a week."

The coffee is swiftly replaced with yet another donut, because he's a vacuum cleaner when it comes to these things.

"Thanks for that, by the way."

"I wonder if the same voice actor is going to be voicing Sailor Sun," Misato muses, more to herself than to Ace. "When I was growing up, people said that I sounded just like her. It kinda makes me wish I had gotten into voice acting instead of modeling. It'd be nice to pretend to be someone else for a change."

Misato smiles as she watches Ace take another donut. Wow, he can really suck them down! It's amazing he can keep that nice figure of his. His job must involve a lot of strenuous activity.

"Not a problem -- any time, actually." Her lips quirk upward into a smile.

But soon, that smile turns a little lopsided.

"So, uh--" and suddenly, Misato's dialogue is just as awkward as her expression "--I wanted to ask you. What are we, anyway? I mean, are we-- are we a thing?"

That brings him up short, half-eaten donut halfway to his mouth, and Misato can at least take comfort in the fact that they are a mirror image of awkwardness.

"Oh. Oh, uhh..." That's a good question, actually, one he's kind of been wondering himself. He wasn't really even on the market for a thing, ludicrous network posts aside, but the idea isn't an unpleasant one at all. It sends a bit of a thrill through him, in all honesty, especially because Misato is an impossible combination of tolerant of his bullshit, intelligent, compassionate, competent, and also a model.

Way out of his league, let's be honest.

All of these thoughts occur while he attempts to finish that sentence in an eloquent and graceful manner, carefully worded to expresses interest without sounding too interested...

"Yes? I mean- no, not yet, not like-" Flawless delivery, exactly what he was going for. "No, scratch that, I mean... do you want a thing? I would like- I mean, I'm okay with a thing, if a thing is a thing that you want and a thing is something you're interested in."

You've got a real catch on your hands, Misato.

Despite what he might think of himself, there's plenty of things to like about Ace, too. He makes Misato laugh -- really laugh, not like those awkward, tempered laughs she choked out whenever any of her dates attempted to make a joke. And he's a genuinely nice guy. If the past two months made anything abundantly clear to Misato, it was that the Ace that showed up to her apartment with a bag of dog treats was no facade conjured up for a first date. That was really what Ace was like.

"I mean," Misato manages, after Ace's awkwardness. "I'd like it to be a thing, if that's a thing you'd like to do. I mean."

She swallows.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Since when did these conversations get so awkward? Suddenly, Misato feels like a junior high girl again, asking a boy out on a first date, stumbling, struggling to find the right thing to say.

"Yes!" he blurts out a little too eagerly, and clears his throat, sitting back some. Schooling his expression. Yes, good, play it cool.

"I mean- sure. Yes. That sounds great."

He's not actually sure this is how these things are supposed to go, but having things laid out plainly is always a good thing, right? Knowing for sure where you stand, knowing for sure that you were 100% correct in shooting down any flirting from the local coffee shop barista? Not to mention Melissa, but he's pretty sure she's rotten to the core, so that was doomed from the beginning, anyway.

Besides, he's not lying. He would like to be. But- but... speaking of laying things out plainly.

"Actually, um, first... I should probably mention something. I was planning to anyway, just, there wasn't really a good opening..."

It's difficult for Misato to suppress the smile that's quickly drawing itself across her face. Where anxiety and worry had been painted before, sheer happiness found itself now. If Vash's awkwardness bothered her in the least, it simply didn't register on Misato Katsuragi's face.

However, that smile quickly vanishes when Vash talks about needing to mention something. The anxiety rises back in full force. What was it? Did he have a child? A wife he was in the process of divorcing? Maybe that's why he moved back here.

"Mention something?" Misato echoes, trying to keep her tone as even as possible.

Ace spares a glance around the cafe - he's well aware that this is a popular Numbered hangout, and he's not super keen on airing this part to anyone on the network that he doesn't trust. Misato fits the bill, fortunately, and at this hour it's really just them and whoever's working the counter, who's nowhere to be seen. Probably retreated to the back room until someone comes in to order something.

"I know I said I worked for the government, but that wasn't really the whole story..."

Apparently deciding it's all-clear, he reaches into his back pocket and puts something on the table, sliding it over to her. It reveals itself to be a badge:

FBI
Criminal Investigative Division
Special Agent Eriks Saverem

He has the good grace to look at least a little sheepish, despite the fact that bluffing about his job is pretty commonplace, even outside of Numbered folks.

"People on the network aren't on super good terms with law enforcement, so it didn't really seem like first date material, y'know? But I actually prefer having everything on the table."

Literally, since he nervously taps the badge as he says it. For all he knows, Misato's been harassed by LCPD or FBI agents, too, and he wouldn't blame her for not stomaching it well.

Okay.

Misato takes a deep breath as she reaches out for the card, mentally preparing herself for the worst. It was clear from those words of his that this was clearly a work issue. That meant kids or a wife were scratched straight off the list. How bad could it possibly be?

Misato flips the card towards her, her eyes slowly widening as her eyes scan over the words. She mouths the words as she reads them, and it's a moment before the weight of this all finally hits her.

"Wow," she finally manages, setting the card back down on the table facedown. "I'm not really sure what to say."

What should she say?

"I didn't really expect this, but it's definitely better than virtually everything else I thought you might tell me."

Her lips quirk upwards.

"Thanks for coming to me with this. You didn't have to, but... I'm glad you trust me."

He watches her expression carefully as she reads, and can't help wondering what she was expecting. Secretly a pimp? He can't entirely blame her, since he is pretty smooth, in his humble opinion. Secretly a drug lord? Less likely, considering his substance abuse tolerance doesn't even extend to three beers. Secretly the sire of a grand homestead in the Siberian wilds? Well, not impossible...

Can't help a stab of relief when she takes the (rather mundane in comparison, really) truth in stride, though. Were it someone else, he might've gotten a mug of lukewarm coffee thrown in his face.

"Yeah, well..." he slides the card back across the table and pockets it, not entirely keen on leaving the thing sitting out. "That's how these things are supposed to work, right?"

Failing to specify what these things means exactly, but dating probably (most definitely) factors into that.

"Mutual trust and not leading secret double lives under the cover of night."

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NOT META AT ALL

ONLY PURE COINCIDENCES ITT

omfg i am grinning so hard at this tag

this is hilarious, i have secondhand embarrassment

Re: this is hilarious, i have secondhand embarrassment

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