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the graceful ellsinore b. alderton ([info]softwhatlight) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2009-02-14 22:57:00


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Entry tags:elliot alderton, ellsinore alderton

Who: Elliot Alderton and Elsie Branstone
What: Blind V-day date shenanigans, of course
Where: ~Fancy Italian restaurant
When: Tonight!
BUTTTT read this one, because it's way better.

Elsie did not really like dating.

It was awkward, it was often uncomfortable, and she really only regarded it as a necessary evil. Because if someone just proposed to her on the spot, it would be slightly awkward--but the whole process of getting there was so incredibly tedious.

Or maybe it was because she was completely screwed over by her last boyfriend--if you could even call him that. Which, by the way, was another thing that greatly pissed her off. People were so picky about titles and how much time had passed before they could be considered appropriate to use, and if one person thought they were something, but the other didn't... it just ended very badly.

That might also be a slight amount because he was famous. Elsie had no idea how other people dealt with famous significant others, but she wanted absolutely no part of it, none. But Jolene had insisted she get back out on the playing field, so what could possible be better at accomplishing that than going on a blind date?

Apparently nothing, because here Elsie was, sitting at a table in a restaurant. She thought she must look only slightly strange sitting at a table by herself-- why did she always have to be early? That was the most useless personality quirk in the world.

Was that him? No, no he kept walking. Jolene had said something about a specific table--she was sitting at the right one, wasn't she? Oh, what if she wasn't?

Why was she so bad at socializing sometimes, it was just--wait, was that--?

How, how had he agreed to this? Elliot couldn't understand, a date was the last thiing he'd ever, ever want to go on and---and here he was, in a stupid buttoned up shirt with a ruddy flower and...and he was going to kill Archie. Because he knew that his friend (and Ioan! he had to be involved too, the bastard), had approached Jolene and since she was so sweet and so nice, who could possibly say no to her? WHO?

Elliot certainly couldn't.

SO. There he was, completely flustered before he even knew what was going on. All he had done was stand in the front of the restaurant, waiting for the maitre'd to lead him to his table. He was late, he was always bloody late bit it wasn't his fault that Liam wouldn't let him leave the room without screeching and hollering. It had taken his sister ten minutes to get him distracted enough with the dog, and at that point, Elliot himself was feeling clingy (or was it cold feet) and had forced another goodbye out of his son.

He followed the waiter silently, eyes cast down to the floor as he made his way through the quiet restaurant. This was bad, this was bad. Bad, just---bad. His wife had died in May, this was not good, this was going to lead to such bad karma. Elliot knew that---that his friends knew he and Millie were only married because of the baby, but that didn't mean the rest of the bloody universe did, so when he was struck down by lightening, so help him---

"Elsie!" Elliot let out in surprise, jerking out his arm with the rose. Jolene had set him up with Elsie? From school? What on Earth? Elliot wasn't sure if this was incredibly lucky or ridiculously awkward.

This, suffice to say, was exactly not what she thought was going to happen, if someone had asked her what the course of events would be for tonight. Because her old classmate was standing in front of her (with a rose, ohhh!), and this was extremely awkward, but so lucky that it was not someone she thought was unattractive or would have a terrible laugh, and all in all, Elsie should probably count her lucky stars.

Or, at least, she would once she stopped being so shocked.

"Hallo! Er--thank you, for--for this," she indicated the rose nervously, "and I--am--so--it's so good to see you!"

Because it really was, she loved catching up with old school friends (what was the protocol for this, anyhow? Was it still a date? Did they pretend it was a date? Act as if they just happened to run into one another and do nothing more? She had no bloody idea). It was a guarantee that they wouldn't run out of things to talk.

Except she remember just at that moment that his wife had passed away a bit more than six months ago and felt her cheeks blush just slightly as she was, once again, uncertain of what the protocol for dating a widower was. Was was it that the bizarre social things always happened to her?

"Did Jolene put you up to this too?" Elsie asked hurriedly. "She's a devious one, that girl. Er--how--how'd she manage to convince you to come?"

"Oh, er--" Elliot handed Elsie the rose, and dropped down into his seat. Well. At least that hadn't been a terrible idea. You couldn't really go wrong with a rose, could you? Ioan did seem to know what he was talking about. "You're welcome."

Well. Elliot wondered if Elsie was finding this weird, because he wasn't sure how to label it. Because--he really didn't know her that well from school, she'd been in Ravenclaw and surrounded by weirdos like Lestrange, Sloan, and Boot, but--he knew Elsie to be nice enough, and if Jolene thought she would be a good match...well, Jolene also tripped over air and would probably be able to knock down an entire building if she fell at the right angle.

So maybe he should feel awkward and nervous about this.

"Yeah, well---I wasn't going to accept, but then my friends...insisted." If you could call constant badgering and threats of public humiliation insisting. Elliot let up a shaky grin, shrugging one shoulder as he hunched over his plate. Wow, he--could not remember what kind of food they served here. Had Jolene even told him? Oh, hell. He hoped it wasn't a seafood place, because he was allergic to fish.

"But, I've never been on a blind date before, so I'm glad that---you're not some...nutjob," he finished lamely, not sure if she'd find that as a compliment or not, and definitely not sure how to retract and fix the statement.

Elsie did not, in fact, know if that was a compliment or not. But being that she was thinking the exact same thing about him, she figured he couldn't have meant in such a bad way.

She also did not know if the offer to set someone up on a blind date was insulting or not, but Elsie figured that if such a... peculiar tradition had existed for such a long time, there must be some sort of value to it, didn't it! And it was so awfully nice of Jolene to do this for her, so the least she could do was make the most of the evening, right? Besides, how awkward could this really be?

"I haven't either!" she said brightly, "so either way you look at it, this well be the best blind date you've had." She frowned for a second before adding, somewhat reluctantly, "Well, I suppose it will also be the worst one you've had."

We-ell.

"Er," Elsie continued hurriedly. Looking at the open menu on her plate, she frowned. Italian food. Which, while enjoyable, meant she got roughly the same three dishes on a rotational basis. Perhaps this was the time to try something different. "How--have you been?" she asked, glancing up at him. "You--work in the Ministry, right?" Ministryman had been what she was told, but there were so many different departments and offices, her head started to spin.

Work! Work was something Elliot could definitely talk about. It seemed like his job was the only sensible thing in his life, except when they were putting him on a hiatus because of his blood status. That had not been a fun two weeks, he can assure you, and the headaches he received from spending full days with his son could still be felt slightly throbbing in the back of his head.

"Yes! I'm on the Magical Standards Trading Body, it's really rather interesting when you know what you're talking about---" and Elliot definitely knew what he was talking about, it was all he could talk about. "Our primary function is to maintain the integrity of commercial weighing and measuring by routine testing of equipment and goods and----and that sounded terribly robotic, I'm sorry," Elliot let out with a laugh, ducking his head quickly in embarrassment. Was it worse to sound robotic or to sound like an excited robot? He really didn't know.

Figuring that his job description had been described enough, Elliot put out his hand to ask Elsie where she worked, but was interrupted by the waiter. Oy--he hadn't even looked at his menu. "Er--that, please?"

He watched Elsie order, his question about her employment sitting on the tip of his tongue before he could forget and completely lose the new(ish) track of conversation, "And--you're in Diagon Alley, aren't you? Flourish and Blotts? How's that?"

"I do!" she said, smiling in thanks up at the waiter in thanks as he whisked away their menus. "It's--well, it's horribly mundane, actually, but it's retail," she gave a helpless little shrug with a smile, "so I suppose that's to be expected. But--er, I love to read. So, really, a Ravenclaw in a bookstore... it doesn't seem too surprising, either!"

Well, mundane was probably the wrong word for it, given the number of times there had been a Death Eater in the store, or someone thought it would be a great idea to blow up one of the working environments on the street, but-- mundane was the roughest approximation she could think of on the days where something traumatizing wasn't happening.

Elsie bit her lip, looking down in an attempt to hide her probably-flushing cheeks, "But the Magical Standards Trading Body, that's--well, I mean, when you describe it, it sounds so interesting." Technical jargon should probably not appeal to her the way it did, but... well--everyone had their fetishes peculiarities.

They passed the time it took for their meals to come with small talk that was not awkward, necessarily, but was very obviously the conversation of two people who could keep the conversation going easily enough, but could not escape from the unfortunate lulls which occurred on all dinner dates. Not to mention the several times she had very nearly said something involving his family (or was she being rude by not addressing it? Oh, Circe...), but managed hurriedly skip away from it each time unobtrusively. Or so Elsie hoped. By the time the waiter came, it was about time Elsie had something else to occupy her motormouth with (wait a second...), but the plate that was set in front of her was not at all what she had been expecting. Or, more aptly, hoping.

Because if she had bothered to ask the waiter what Agnello di Coniglio Agnolotti was, she would have been told that it was along the lines of rabbit sweetbreads stuffed pasta. Which looked about as appetizing as it sounded.

"Is this---fish?"

Elliot raised his eyes to the waiter, who stared curiously at him. A broad grin broke out and he nodded, planting his palms together to make them wiggle like a---augh, fish in water. "Pesce? Sì è pesce! Fish!"

"I---" Elliot began, but the waiter clamped his hand on his shoulder and hurried off. He stared after him, hoping that maybe the man would turn and see the completely forlorn and worried expression on his face, but he didn't, and now his dinner was ruined. Elliot turned back quickly to look down at his plate, inspecting the side dishes to see if he could make a meal out of them (or at least, be able to bury the chopped up pioeces of fish he'd avoid eating). Unfortunately, it was just string beans and---some white stuff. Feeling his face turn red, Elliot forced himself to look up at Elsie. Could this date be anymore awkward? Not that--not that it really was, it was more like he felt like Elsie would find everything awkward, but he hadn't, not really anyway...

"I'm allergic to fish," he muttered, feeling foolish. Elliot lifted his gaze to Elsie, and immediately noticed her nearly horrified expression as she stared down at her plate. "Er---" Elliot hunched forward over the table, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I think the Leaky Cauldron is still open."

Between her plate being set down before her and Elliot's conspiratorial whisper, Elsie's thoughts ran from "oh, why, oh why do I have to be half-Italian and not speak Italian?" to "why does this always happen to me" to "but it was just a rabbit, I didn't think that you were supposed to eat--"

"Oh!" she whispered, eyes going very large. If they left, that meant that they might actually have a chance at a normal evening out that did not consist of barbaric gourmet food, and something that did not burn a hole in both their pockets--

Well...

"You know," she leaned forward, eyebrow cocked with the most evil expression someone like Ellsinore Branstone could summon, "that is probably one of the best things I have heard all day. I also think I may have an idea in addition to that," which was followed by Elsie's whispered petty theft scheme.

He might think she was some sort of delinquent, but who said that really trying something different tonight had to be with entrées?

"If you head to the bathroom and disapparate, I can pretend my wallet fell out of my pocket." Hopefully she was hinting at skipping on the bill--it wasn't as if they had taken a bite out of anything. Elliot wasn't normally prone to this kind of behavior, but when this kind of barely scandalous occurrences caused much excitement between his group of friends (Archie still brought up at one time at the Three Broomsticks--), it was easy for it to pop into his mind.

Nevermind that Ioan was filthy rich, it was the thrill of it all.

His bright eyes flickered toward the bathroom, and Elliot leaned back in his seat, patting down his pockets with a look of confusion. Oh, he'd wait until she left before he got up with a panic stricken look on his face. Then he'd search under the table, around the glasses and plates, and even retrace his steps and ask the waiter if he'd seen a wallet. When the waiter began to look for himself, Elliot would jog out and scan the pavement, and---pop. Gone, poof.

Hopefully this would all go as smoothly as it did in his head, because things rarely did.

To be fair, felony hadn't quite been in Elsie's agenda that evening, but a desperate enough patron would do anything to escape the horror of ordering a terrible dish. So who was she to say no when a wonderful escape plan took hold and simply wouldn't let go?

"I'll meet you there," she said, grinning what she hoped was a secretive smile.

Announcing in a tone that was perhaps a bit louder than necessary, "If you'll excuse me, I've just got to pop into the ladies room to powder my nose," as sweetly and snottily as she could (because if she was play-acting, why shouldn't she have a ridiculous amount of fun?) and made her way to the ladies room.

Resisting the urge to smile serenely at the waiting staff she passed, or making comments about the quality of the food, Elsie quickly skipped inside the little room and took a good look at herself in the mirror. Eyes alight with the same sort of glee a child might have in stealing a biscuit from a jar, she took exactly thirty seconds to let her nervous giggles subside before Disapparating to the Leaky Cauldron's exterior.

No matter what happened after their great escape, this would probably have to go down as one of the best dates ever.



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