tampered | (no subject)

When; Backdated to the evening of Friday, March 9th
Rating; PG? Probably?
Characters; Wilson [

anunluckypenny]
Summary; Wilson and Penny go out for dinner! Très excitant!
Log;

He'd selected the restaurant carefully and deliberately; it was nice, in that people were seated and served by wait staff rather than purchasing food at a counter and conveying it to their tables on flimsy plastic trays. At the same time, it wasn't fancy by any stretch. Nobody would be seen here in evening wear, and you'd never be greeted by the sort of host that looked down his nose at you and asked if you had a reservation. There was no lightly tinkling piano music or violinist making the rounds of the tables. There was, however, a well-rounded menu with plenty of vegetarian options - he'd made sure, of course - and it was warm and lively; it seemed perfectly right for... whatever this was.

He wasn't calling it a date.

What he was calling it, though, he hadn't quite been able to decide. He certainly wouldn't object to it being a date, by any means, but he didn't want to make assumptions either. Though, he had been alternating between questioning that winking smiley in her text message and questioning whether he should be putting any significance on it at all. It seemed safer to call this a dinner out as friends... even if it meant the questioning and second-guessing would go on unchecked in his head.

It goes without saying, since he came from the hospital, that he's dressed nicely. A sharp suit and tie - it's nothing too stuffy and certainly nothing you wouldn't expect of a doctor, but it is nice. He manages not to look overdressed, if only because it's not at all unusual for him.

And so it is, dressed nicely but not too nice, that he holds the door of the nice but not too nice restaurant open for Penny. Who is absolutely his friend, and may or may not be his date.

He's still questioning that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Your parents sound nice. And forgiving, with your dad letting himself get arrested on a regular basis."

Penny didn't think that their topic of conversation was weird until Wilson mentioned it. "I guess so? We should be talking about how crazy we were when we were kids." She shakes her head, smiling, and adds, "Maybe it's a sign that we need to get into trouble here. You know, make up for lost time."

"They are. A little protective, but... patient."

He grins at the remark. Wilson more often serves as the voice of reason, better at getting out of trouble than into it. It's not that he doesn't wind up in trouble often enough, it's that it's not generally his doing. Generally, of course, doesn't mean it never is. But he doesn't voice any of that.

"Well, we could, but I think the City is fond enough of providing us with trouble on its own."

Somewhere in between the conversation, his idle picking as his food has brought him to this, the end of his sandwich, a bite he pauses thoughtfully on. And when it's gone - entirely, of course, because he always minds his manners - he speaks again.

"Not that the sort of trouble the City provides would stop us from hitting a few bars or doing karaoke until a few hours before we have to work."

He's starting by aiming on the safer side of trouble.

"There's nothing wrong with protective."

But he does have a point. In the City, getting in trouble--not necessarily trouble of the fun variety--is something that happens with or without effort. Getting out of trouble or avoiding it altogether is the tricky part.

Penny pushes the remains of her salad aside and studies Wilson, trying to decide if he's being serious or not. "You're into karaoke?"

He lowers his glance, shaking his head slightly with a mildly embarrassed chuckle. Not the kind where he's presently embarrassed, but the variety that's recalling embarrassment. When he looks back up, there's an amused smirk to accompany the slight incline of his head he gives.

"Actually, a couple of years ago... the Network was inadvertently treated to my interpretation of Bohemian Rhapsody."

Her expression is caught somewhere between deeply amused and slightly horrified (which is exactly how she would feel if the entire City caught her in the act of singing a Queen song). Wilson appears to be over any unpleasantness the situation caused; amusement wins out.

"Was this a curse or just a case of having a little too much to drink on karaoke night?"

Penny has experienced the latter more than once herself.

Amused is a good choice. It's been a long time and, even then, he took it with pretty good humor. It certainly helped that it was in the context of having just come back from the dead; if anything good can be said about something like that, it's that it does tend to put things into perspective.

"Not a curse."

Which makes it definitely a case of the latter.

"House had half the City holding up lighters at me for weeks."

Dying in general has a way of putting things into perspective, to say nothing of coming back to life.

Penny smiles and shakes her head. "There's something to regret--although, as far as regrettable things go, you could definitely do worse."

"Oh, I can certainly think of things I've regretted more."

He leans in with a grin, "Frankly, as far as I was concerned, I did quite an impressive rendition. Though I was, of course, both biased and a bit drunk."