tampered | Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel

Entry tags:

Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel

When; February 9th, Evening
Rating; Language? Crime sprees? Flaming shots? PG-13?
Characters; Ruby Flint and Al Capone
Summary; Al is determined to get Ruby to make the most of her birthday.
Log; The restaurant is busy this evening, the waiters bustling between tables with some haste. The wait is even more abysmal, which is something Al finds generally insulting. The woman he's with seems patient, mingling with the crowd while he weaves and bobs, notating to the maître d' when an empty table appears and how it's not being utilized.

It's then that he spots a familiar face at a table, or rather a familiar shock of red hair: Ruby. She's alone, which he finds surprising. Maybe she's waiting for a date-- either way, it seems a sin to see such a sight. With a quick pat of the woman's hand and a reassuring word, he parts company from the woman in front and invites himself into the dining room to approach her table.

"Just when I was thinkin' about praying for some sanity in here-- what are you doin' over here, Red?"

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With the exception of Meyer, who she's sure will have found out with or without her, Ruby hasn't really told anyone what day it is. She's more than content for it to go by without any marking of it at all, except for the ritual that she's been practising for the last eight years, which only serves to make her feel more sad and disconnected rather than celebratory. She rests her elbow on the table, propping up her head in her hand and gazing out of the window, hoping that the night will pass quickly.

She doesn't even notice Al approach until he's right there next to her, addressing her by the nickname that only he's allowed to call her. She looks up in surprise and confusion, then manages a smile.

"I just felt like eating out for once."

The lack of a natural smile is somewhat concerning. She seems distant, not anything like her usual demeanor.

"You don't seem too excited about that."

He's lingering at the table, trying to piece the situation together the best he can, which naturally leads to assumptions. There's one that stands out to him that makes the most sense logically and is frankly pretty damn appalling.

"Don't tell me somebody's stupid enough to stand you up."

"Oh no, nothing like that." She shakes her head rapidly, her curls bobbing around her face. "I wouldn't still be sat here if that was the case, I'd be tracking them down and giving them a piece of my mind. ...No, as a matter of fact I booked the table for one. But if you'd like to join me you're more than welcome to. I was just about to order dessert." She gestures towards an empty chair opposite.

For a fraction of a second, he doesn't believe her-- something's still not right even if he doesn't quite know how to place it. Fortunately, her retort is much more reassuring and of her usual spirits, so the perturbance subsides. He will take her up on that offer for he seat; there's still a wait up front, so what's a few minutes more over here?

"This is a hell of a place to treat yourself," Al takes the opportunity to flag down a passing waiter.

"The lady's ready to order dessert."

Whether or not it's her waiter, the guy would be wise to take the order.

Edited 2014-02-12 08:49 (UTC)

Ruby orders herself a pavlova, instructing the waiter to go heavy on the fruit and light on the cream. She nods in response to Al's comment, smiling that small smile again. "Treating myself seemed appropriate. It's my birthday, after all."

There it is.

Birthdays are a tricky thing-- some people don't call attention to them based on circumstancials, things that are beyond their control. It's not so uncommon from his time, but this is one muted celebration he couldn't have called.

"Damn, Red-- happy birthday. You should be out with bells on, or somebody with you should."

"Or glitter?" She looks amused. Yes, Meyer had given her a few more hints about just what she'd missed that night. "I don't know, I guess I've just never really had much reason to celebrate."

"Thing about birthdays is you get a new shot at 'em every year."

Ah, glitter. Based on its lasting impression, the idea was clearly a success. That at least earns a small smirk, which is a nice turn in the conversation rather than concern.

"If you'd have said something, I'd have put something together. They've got things called flash mobs, you know: a bunch of people that come out of nowhere, singing and dancing."

He gives a languid shrug. The day isn't over and with this new information, he might have time for something yet.

"And get older every year with them."

The sadness is back in her tone there, but it vanishes again as she tries to envision what Al's saying, and instead she looks thoroughly enchanted. "...Like you're in the middle of a musical? That sounds incredible."

"Yep. But you set someone up-- they don't know it's coming. Doesn't matter who they are-- everybody's face is priceless. You should've seen Meyer."

The pride of that collaboration will never end. If he can make sure that Lansky gets a good birthday, then doing the same for Ruby shouldn't be a problem.

"That's it? You think you're old?"

If his tone doesn't convey it clearly enough, he finds this a little ridiculous.

"No, it-- it's more complicated than that." She does see herself as old, though. 26 was closer to 30 than 20, and she can't help but feel uneasy about that. "I... Al, I haven't said anything about this, not even to Meyer."

Complicated. That's a place the conversation doesn't need to go. He gives a briefly dismissive wave as if to shake some of her unease.

"You don't gonna explain it. If you wanna keep it under wraps, it stays under wraps."

Discretion, while not his favorite thing, is something that he can honor.

It might help, she reflects, to talk about it with someone. How Joshua had proposed to her on her eighteenth birthday, how every birthday that passes is another reminder that she's gone another year without him. She's not sure if Al's the right person to have that conversation with, though: whether she wants to burden him with that rather maintaining the carefree nature of their friendship so far.

"I appreciate that. But if you want to know then I'll tell you, I don't mind."

Her dessert arrives and she pushes it into the middle of the table, offering to share if he'd like to, and taking a spoonful of strawberry and meringue.

"You're right, though. It would be nice to turn this into a good day for once."

Once Ruby gets her spoonful of the dessert, Al takes a spoonful himself. It's more of a pick really, inspecting the contents as the spoon slices through his portion. He thinks it's a bold offer for her to share, and while his gut tells him to be cautious, he's not about to turn it down.

"We've got this far-- let's hear it."

It's not spoken as a burden or dismissively, but with curiosity. She's open to the idea of changing tradition? That's something he can help with.

She takes another couple of bites, trying to figure out how much is appropriate to tell him without making things too heavy or uncomfortable for him, weighing up how much she wants to remember tonight, and how much she just wants to distract herself. It seems surreal enough talking about the past with him as it is; she's not sure how much of her time in the war she's mentioned.

"My eighteenth birthday, we were about ten miles south of New Rochelle. My troupe wasn't even supposed to be there by that point, but the Germans kept shelling and making it difficult for us to move out, and so Joshua and I kept crossing paths. It was my birthday that he proposed." She shrugs. "I guess it's just easier to think about that than the day he died, even if it still hurts."

As he listens, his interest in the dessert and the lively drone of the restaurant dissipates. The world gets a little smaller, down to the carpeted section of the dining room, then down to the miniscule realm of the table. It's then that the weight on her shoulders becomes clear. The only thing he can think to do is take her hand and give it a squeeze.

He doesn't think she ever mentioned anything about being engaged or much about this Joshua, and it's not all that surprising. They've jawed over simple things-- the city, drinks, casino-goers and difference in the times or things back home. Simple, superficial things. He's not entirely sure there's a right thing to say, but he's never had a shortage of opinions nor voicing them.

"Can't say I knew the guy, but if he's the kind who propose to you on your birthday, he'd probably think you deserved something better than this."

She squeezes back, then runs her fingers lightly over the back of his hand, finding that she doesn't want him to move it away. She's not quite smiling, but she looks grateful for his opinion, nodding starkly.

"I know he'd have wanted me to be happy. Sometimes it's just a little hard to actually take hold of that."

((Wow I totally meant La Rochelle and not New Rochelle in that last tag, they were not fighting the war in New York State DX))

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Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel

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Ah Ruby :C

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