a christmas dinner

[typed]

Paul’s door leads, as ever, to the houseboat. (A much improved houseboat in terms of cleanliness, we might add.) It opens out onto the living room, which is no longer a refugee camp for loose papers, but actually a living room. The coffee table at the center has a couple of rolls of wrapping paper on one side, and a few books on the other. The ashtrays and glasses that used to litter the surface are nowhere in sight.

There’s also a lamp on, which Paul neatly steps around as he makes his way across the room.

“So, um. It’s about a ten-minute drive from here,” he says, drawing a set of keys from his jacket pocket, and grabbing an umbrella from a stand by the front door (better safe than sorry – the rain’s been a bit on and off throughout the day).

“And by ten, I am considering traffic. Which shouldn’t be too big of an inconvenience.”

Comments

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis takes a quick look around as she comes in, smiling. She likes the way this place feels.

"Sounds fine to me."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

Grinning (partially in relief), Paul holds the front door open. The sky outside is a dark purple-brown color, heralding both the evening, and the chance of rain. It is, fortunately, not raining yet.

Paul's car is parked almost directly next to the dock, and so is just ten yards or so from the houseboat itself.

Unlocking the doors, he shoots her a quick shrug before sliding into the driver's seat and starting the car.

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis can't help looking up at the sky as she heads for the car.

(She has never once been under a sky that was not her kin. There is no one from her family on all this Earth.)

She shrugs back, grinning, and gets in--thankfully without shutting her skirt in the door.

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

The car runs about as smoothly as anything else from the 1970s (the radio turns on on its own - a newscast is running on the airwaves at the moment), and Paul is a relatively good driver. On his own, he tends to be the sort to run yellow lights no matter what, but with company, he starts paying more attention to when green actually changed to yellow.

"Remind me if you've been to the Bay Area before?"

[untiedtheknots]

She shakes her head.

"I've been to California a few times, but not around here."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, Sausalito isn't really the first place people think of when they come to California."

[untiedtheknots]

"I'm surprised nobody's started a campaign to change that."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I dunno. It's a hard name to sell, isn't it? 'Sausalito: Tourist Trap'. Not quite the same ring as, say, Los Angeles."

[untiedtheknots]

"Needs something punchier. 'Sausalito: Home of the...' Don't suppose you've got the world's largest ball of twine?"

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Ah."

Beat.

"No. Er. 'Sausalito: Home of Starkes Disco'?"

[untiedtheknots]

"Getting warmer," she says after a moment's thought.

"Definitely beats 'tourist trap.'"

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Good enough for me," he says cheerfully (right off of Princess Street, and just a little down Bridgeway Boulevard and --).

"And here we are."

Fortunately, Paul is pretty good at parallel parking, so parking the car across the street from the restaurant is done relatively painlessly.

Checking his watch, "Right on time, too."

[untiedtheknots]

"Nice way to start things off," she says, getting out of the car.

And that's twice she hasn't shut her skirt in the door. (There may be a little internal fist-pumping of victory.)

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Thanks very much," he replies. After feeding the meter an appropriate number of coins, he offers her his arm (and a mildly apologetic grin) before crossing the street.

Scoma's (http://www.scomassausalito.com/menu.html) is a nice place. It's small, yes, but pleasantly so. They're escorted to a table shortly after getting inside, at which point they are left with menus, and two glasses of water.

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis spends a moment fidgeting looking over the menu, before asking,

"So, you have any recommendations?"

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Uh. The smoked salmon's pretty good, for an appetizer. And, uh."

Fidget.

"Pick a section?"

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis does not giggle.

Correction: Artemis does not giggle nervously.

"Tell me your favorite."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

There's a brief pause as Paul looks back down at his menu, running a finger down the paper.

"Well. The - Pasta Pescatore, and the Broiled Loch Duart Salmon."

[untiedtheknots]

She glances down to find the two he mentioned.

"They both sound good..."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"Hm."

This bears Consideration.

"If nothing else really catches your eye, I could order one, and you could order the other?"

[untiedtheknots]

She nods, takes a sip of her water--

"Sounds like a plan."

--and grinds her heel into a mental voice telling her she's tanking and to quit acting like a block of wood in a dress.

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

And with an exaggerated look around and a, "Waiter!" their order is placed, and Paul is ready to try Conversation Round 2.

"I forget if I've asked you this before, but it seems relevant, so: do - you have any favorite foods? Anything you couldn't live without, or, alternatively, the one food you'd take with you to a desert island?"

[untiedtheknots]

"Ooh, good question."

Which also makes it a tough question, especially when you've had a couple thousand years to learn your favorites.

"Um...I think I'd have to go with saganaki. It's a fried cheese...Although that's probably not the greatest for desert island nutrition; something Indian, maybe..."

[averyhasagun.livejournal.com]

"I've never heard of saganaki," Paul admits, rubbing his chin.

"Indian food, on the other hand - chicken curry with naan. When made well? To die for. Or so I've always thought."

Beat.

Backtrack.

"And I never said you were going to be on the desert island very long, so. Hey. Fried cheese, why not."

[untiedtheknots]

"I'm going to have to hunt down a good Greek restaurant, then."

It's probably less nerve-wracking than having anyone in her family cook for them, and capable in the kitchen she may be, but Goddess of Culinary Skills she is not.

"And I'm totally with you on the chicken curry."

She laughs. "Day-trip to the desert island?"