tampered | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

When; Tuesday 5th February, after this
Rating; G - no warnings inherent
Characters; Andrew Ryan (

rianofski) and Ruby Flint (

spotlighted)
Summary; Friendly drinks
Log;

As the clock approaches 8pm, Ruby brushes out her curls and glances in the mirror for a final time. She feels overdressed, and a little self-conscious because of that, but the dress that she'd arrived in was the only thing she owned that fell into the category of evening wear rather than just practical clothes. The apartment still doesn't look like anyone lives there, something that Ruby hopes to remedy very quickly if she's to be stuck here indefinitely, as the place just feels very cold and lonely at the moment.

She rises eagerly at the knock on the door, almost tripping as she slips into a pair of heels on the way to answer it.

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"Admittedly, I'm unclear on just how memory retention works once we've left the City, but I wouldn't want to forget it either -- although I wouldn't mind forgetting some of the more... unfortunate curses."

He nods, obviously pleased by the offer. "I certainly will. I'm sure you know a great deal about the inner workings of the entertainment field."

"Even if it's a terrible curse that I don't want to remember, I'd much rather that than forget, have something this big happen to me and not know anything about it. It'd be a real shame."

She attempts to shrug modestly, something that doesn't look quite natural on her. "Oh, I'm no Florenz Ziegfeld, but I'd say I know a thing or two."

"No need to be self-effacing, Ruby. I can already tell that you're deeply talented, and I've only known you for several days. You've known yourself for your whole life -- I'm sure you know as well as anyone just how talented you truly are."

That might sum it up right there, actually, the reason why Andrew didn't find cockiness off-putting. It was a principle he operated under himself: other people may understand his genius on a surface level, but having never been inside his mind, they'd never have a full glimpse at just how great he really was. He had to imagine that other people felt that way, too. Never did the idea of self-doubt cross his mind.

"Thank you." Her voice is a mixture of pleasant surprise and deep appreciation. "I've learned from experience that men tend to find it off-putting when a woman's so confident and independent. Ridiculous, I know, but still. I'm very glad you can see past that." Because she is talented, and never doubted that for a moment.

"Ridiculous indeed. I've always found it far more invigorating to have a conversation with a woman who clearly knows what she likes, what she wants, and how to get it. It leaves less open to interpretation, and it makes for a more exciting experience."

There's obviously some not particularly hidden innuendo in his words, and she's free to take it or leave it, depending on how she feels.

It was something that had been instilled into her in the USO - never let the boys feel like you're smarter than them. It had grated on her even then, and while she'd tried to shake it and assert herself wherever she could, it had never really been an attitude that had made her popular with men.

Her grin widens a little now, and she leans in a little closer. "Well, I've always liked to think that I know what I like and what I want." And he was making it pretty clear how to get it, which just made it all the better.

"We have that in common, then."

And if there's one thing about him that's absolutely true, it's that he always gets what he wants -- and if he doesn't, he pretends he didn't want it anyway. This time, when she leans forward, he slides his hand across the table and rests it on top of hers.

Her smile widens as she feels his hand on top of hers, and she brings her fingers up, to twine into his. "It certainly seems we do."

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