2595/We Wants The Redhead! (Disney references, yo)

We Wants The Redhead! (Disney references, yo)
Date of Scene:	26 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Karen Page, Grant Ward

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Karen Page has posed:
It's early evening, as the night slowly slips into the stillness that's wrapped the streets since the invasions started. It's hot. Too hot for early autumn. Everyone's nerves are thinned to breaking point.

Karen has been at the Goodwill Mission for five days now. Or was it six? She can't remember anymore. It's all becoming a blur of time and energy. Somewhere in there she became one of the folks who didn't go home last night, merely crashing in the volunteer tent on one of the cots. She woke in the wee hours with a start, not remembering where she was. For a minute thinking she was back in that cell. Back to that day..

Sleep had been abandoned and she's now been up since way before dawn. Today it was the food tables. Smiling at folks and dishing out plates of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Not that there was really a break between meals. There were always folks lining up in a ragtag fashion, looking slightly bewildered and embarrassed to be there. Mostly looking tired and scared, and relieved that there was something of near normallacy to the staging area.

She was done her shift now. Exhausted to the point she was considering just crashing on the cots again.. But Gwen might wonder.

Instead she opted for a cup of coffee, and the prommise that she'd head home when it was done. She'd sit - not lie - and close her eyes. Less danger of falling asleep that way. She was just.. so.. tired.

Grant Ward has posed:
Ward had spent a few days since their meeting considering the strawberry blonde. He had busied himself at the Triskelion, since his injury kept him out of the front-lines. Now, however, he was healed enough to really be out and about. It didn't take too much to do some research on Ms. Page. He found out her employment history, past legal issues, places of residence...and all the other shady stuff you would expect spies to know.

He makes his way into the tent she is relaxing in, dressed for the warmth and the area. Jeans, boots and a sleeveless shirt helps him in the sun and heat. It isn't sweltering, but it isn't cold. His arm isn't obviously messed up anymore, but the skin is a bit bruised around his shoulder and bicep still.

He spots her from across the tent and grins a bit to himself, making his way over. He raises a hand. "Hey, Karen. Fancy seeing you here."

Karen Page has posed:
It doesn't really register at first who belongs to the voice. It musn't, or she wouldn't be still sitting there with her eyes closed, making non-committal noises about 'tired' and 'shift over' and 'yeah, the next truck is due at midnight'. Nothing that was asked by him, but over the past few days, that's been the litany.. 'Hey Karen, where's the - ' 'blue tent. You want James not the other guy. James.' "hey Karen, when's the - ' 'Same time as yesterday. Check the book. I'm not in charge of that.' 'Hey Karen -'

And somewhere in her sleep deprived, heat exhausted, work weary brain, everything clicks, and she sits bolt upright (much to the detriment of her coffee which sloshes over her left wrist) and gasps, "Uh.. Grant."

Grant Ward has posed:
Her reaction brings a soft chuckle from the man. He turns to snag a towel from somewhere nearby and then tosses it to her for the spilled coffee. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I didn't realize you were so out of it." He cocks his head to the side, peering down at where she is sitting. He glances back over his shoulder and gestures.

"I was helping with a relief delivery. Saw you through the tent opening." Good thing the man is a master liar. It all sounds a lot better then 'I was nervous I'd never see you again so pulled some spy/stalker crap'.

Karen Page has posed:
He earns himself a laugh with that. "Trucks don't come for another couple hours, hotshot. Someone didn't do their homework on the schedule here." Laughing, she pushes the chair across from her over. "Sit if you have time. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to look me up. Not that I've been at home much in the last week, so kudos if you actually tracked me here. And surprise if you didn't."

She gives him a tired smile. "I'm glad you found me, however you did. I was almost to the point of using that number you gave me."

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant Ward chuckles softly and glances back, thumbing back through the opening. "While, my truck with relief food is here right now, so..." In fact, right outside a truck IS being unloaded with supplies. Off-schedule, it would seem. "You could have called," he replies with a lopsided grin, and slides down to sit beside her.

"This is 2025, afterall. A woman -can- call a man without shame," he offers with a teasing tone. "How are things here? You know...beyond the roughness of the situation."

Karen Page has posed:
Karen scoffs at the 'you could have called'. "Where's the fun in that? Huh? Besides, I was curious if you'd bother. I expected a phonecall, not this.. but I'm guessing by that truck outside you really did just find me accidentally." She looks a little saddened by that, having enjoyed for a moment the thought that someone had gone to this much trouble to track her down.

"Anyway, I'm done for the night. I'm just too tired to actually drag my sorry butt home. That's what the coffee was for." She lifts the cup, showing it off. See? Coffee. It was supposed to help. "Probably not nearly as much fun as you remember me, huh?"

Grant Ward has posed:
He grins a hint. "Well, alcohol will do that to a person. Either way, it's fine." He points out towards the truck and shakes his head. "No, I looked you up. Found out you've been working here and figured I might as well make sure I brought something when I came. So, yeah." Grant glances down and chuckles. "Yeah, I kind of abused my government power to track you down. Creepy, huh?"

Karen Page has posed:
"Shameless. Utterly shameless." There is a total lack of sincerity or scolding in her tones or features, though. "And I'll have you know I wasn't drunk that night. You say exactly how much I drank. You were there."

Her chin nods towards the tent door. "You're a good man, Grant. They'll be happy for the supplies. Folks here are scared and worried. Every little bit helps them feel like things might get back to normal."

Her head tilts to one side. "So. In the dim light of the volunteer tent, do I still stack up to your memory? Or was it totally beer coloured glasses?"

Grant Ward has posed:
"I'm not a good man, but I might be a decent one. When it matters," he responds. His tone is utterly sincere. He brushes his fingers back through his hair and lies back beside her, though she is sitting up. He stares at the roof of the tent.

"Oh, no. You're even lovelier, which I didn't really think could be possible. Really. When you look just as lovely flirting in a bar as you do worn out after all these days of no sleep while volunteering? Yeah."

Karen Page has posed:
A slow flush creeps up underneath her collarbone and works its way towards her cheeks. "I haven't had a shower in two days.. I think it's been two days. Oh god, what day is it anyway?" She laughs at herself, and the blush she seemingly has no control over.

her gaze drifts down to regard him. "Well, even if you're not a good man, and only decent, it was a nice thing to do. I'm just going to pretend you didn't do it /just/ to come see me, or I might have to sock you in the arm or something while I fluster. I'm not sure it makes for a good second date."

Grant Ward has posed:
"Monday," he replies with a teasing smile. He laughs then and nods. "Well, pretend all you want. And if you're going to hit me, go for the non-bruised shoulder. Also, it's feeling quite a bit better now," he states. Grant rolls that shoulder and doesn't wince like he did the other day. "In a much better state for the kind of intense physical activity we were joking about at the bar.

Ward sits up and then stands, reaching down to take her cup. "I'm going to go get a coffee...and I'll refill yours while I'm at it." With that the man turns and makes his way out of the tent.

Karen Page has posed:
Her cup is easily enough taken, especially when one considers the moment of bemusement on her face. "Was that just an invitation, Grant? Or are you seeing just how true it is about redheads and blushing."

When he's out of the tent, she frowns. "Monday? I don't even remember it being Thursday." Maybe it had been six days. It might not be a good sign that she was losing track. Fatigue, it hit them all.

Grant Ward has posed:
He makes his way back in a few minutes later, carrying two cups. He laughs softly and offers hers to her. "Certainly an invitation, though I like seeing you blush, too." The man sits down beside her again, bringing his coffee to his lips for a sip. "Better then what we have at the office, but...that isn't saying much." Grant glances over at her. Now that he is in a sleeveless shirt and all, she can tell the man is in -exceptional- shape.

Karen Page has posed:
That does make her wince - his comment about the coffe. "That's pretty bad. This stuff ranks down there with dirty dishwater and waterbarrel collectiions." She's from Vermont. Waterbarrels. They're a thing there. Her cup is taken with a nod of thanks.

"An invitation, huh?" Now that it's all in more normal territory - or what she is telling herself is normal - she's feeling a lot more secure. No more caught off guard, blushing like a start struck teen. Though she can't help but check out what she missed the last time they met. "So, what are we talking here, hrm? Wine and dine, slam bam, thank-you ma'am?" It's clear she's teasing, just as much as it's clear Karen is testing out the waters of this.. whatever it is.

Grant Ward has posed:
He grins and sips his coffee, before he nods. "SHIELD cares about putting funding into a lot of things. A decent coffee machine is not one of them. At least not in my branch." He glances about the tent as she asks him those questions, and he seems to consider his answer for a brief moment.

"Not sure how well I'd handle a ...slam bam? Heh. I don't need to marry you, but...casual is something for a fake agent, not a real one. I'm no James Bond." Eeeeeh. He glances over at her again, grinning. "But I know you like another guy, like you said. So, it can be what you want it to be."

Karen Page has posed:
"Ouch. A machine? You get your coffee from a machine? How much funding does this agency have and they don't even get you a proper coffeemaker?" Karen shakes her head in what isn't entirely mock disgust. "You're working for the wrong agency. Even I have a coffeemaker. And the coffee is drinkable, even when Matt.. uh, my boss, when my boss makes it." She makes a small face.

"The slam bam was mostly a joke. But I know that's sometimes what guys want." Karen shrugs and sips at her coffee. "Yeah. I know what I said. And I've been thinking about it all." There's a pause. "So.. how not casual are we talking? I'm not looking for a marriage liscence, but I'm not sure I'm a one night stand kind of girl either." Well, she could be. It's not like she's done /this/ either. But since they're tossing it all around casually, she may as well cover all the bases.

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant Ward smirks at that. "We have other priorities, I guess. And who knows? Higher ranking people might have nicer coffee. Honestly, I think most of the agents and tchs go out to get coffee." He considers his answer to that again, taking his time and figuring out his answer. It is clear his answer means something to him.

"At least dating, even if casually. Openness of it all can be discussed, you know? I know this is the 21st century and all." The man chuckles and glances over at her.

Karen Page has posed:
Karen pretends to consider the offer, giving sidelong glances over. "We could maybe do that." She shrugs. "That guy? My boss. Full disclosure. Just, he doesn't see it - literally doesn't see it. Blind." Karen shrugs again and laughs. "Maybe dating someone else will put it all in perspective before I go making a fool of myself with him. That kiss was nice.." She nods as she remembers.

"I'd still complain about the coffee. If I had a couple extra bucks to rub together I'd buy you a coffeemaker myself, but looks like this is going to be a lean month. I'm going to be glad of these free ones soon enough."

Grant Ward has posed:
He nods to that, taking it all in. "Murdoch or Nelson?," he asks curiously. "You took up a job with them, right? I'm assuming. And Murdoch, I expect. He's the blind one" He pauses. "Saw some more info while I was tracking you down." He taps his chest and chuckles softly. "Spy, remember?" He brings his coffee to his lips and takes a sip. "I appreciate the offer for a coffeemaker, but..." He grins. "Take care of yourself."

Karen Page has posed:
Karen's nose crinkles. "Some spy you are. Murdock is the blind one." But it's the rest that has her giving him a very serious look. "Okay. So. What else did you find out. Since we're on the topic and you brought it up. Which part. The part where I was framed? Or the part where I was nearly murdered. People usually miss the second part. Some don't even bother with remembering the framed.."

She stops herself there. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. And if you read it all and are still here, you /really/ didn't deserve that." Grant is given another solid, considering look. "If I didn't scare you off, we can talk about it."

Grant Ward has posed:
"All of it," he replies softly. "And I know people. I'm trained to. If you were a killer like that...I'd have known it in the bar." He sounds like he means it. "I mean...a vicious one. The killing you were framed for." He shrugs and glances down, fingers brushing along the rim of his styrofoam coffee cup. He arches an eyebrow anf glances back over at her. He chuckles and nods. "I'm still here."

Karen Page has posed:
Karen makes another face. "It's not that I try and hide it, but pepole don't usually take it well. Somehow being exonerated isn't as important as the being arrested and charged part." She sighs, sipping her coffee, keeping her gaze on her ownn hands. "I had nightmares for a long while. If I get really tired, or you know, sometimes I still do. Wake up in a cold sweat trying to remember where I am. Sometimes takes me a bit to remember I'm not still there. I always feel like I'm.. well. Details. You probably deal with enough of this in your day to day."

She looks over again with a small smile. "I could be a killer. You never know." But the joke falls flat, even to her. "So, why did you come, even after learning all that?"

Grant Ward has posed:
"Why wouldn't I?," he asks. It seems like a clear answer to her question to him. He brushes his fingers back through his hair and then reaches out, tucking a locke of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, fingertips lightly touching a cheek.

"None of any of that means anything to me, really. You were in a shitty situation and you got out of it. I'm sorry you went through it but...doesn't make -you- any worse."

Karen Page has posed:
"Not everyone looks at it that way," Karen says simply. "And I wasn't entirely innocent by the end. I stole the information that got me exonerated. So, I did break the law."

Unconsciously, Karen leans into the tuck of hair behind her ear. "I don't know. It could have just been one of those things. Two people being silly at a bar, drinking. Of course, my life now is pretty boring. I should probably warn you about that." Her laugh is soft, and rich. "Anything you didn't find out while abusing your power to find me?"

Grant Ward has posed:
"Well, a lot of people are idiots," he replies with a small smile. "Eh. Not a big deal." He arches an eyebrow and glances back over at her. "Are you kidding me? With what I do for a living...a bit of boring is good. And while your life might be boring...-you're- not."

He ponders her last question and then nods. "Mmmhm. Favorite food?"

Karen Page has posed:
"This week? Turkey with gravy." Karen's answer comes without thought, but not without explanation. "Couple days ago, I could have gnawed off my own left foot. They had turkey with all the fixings. It was like Thanksgiving all over. Only, you know, months early." Even now she sighs with satisfaction at the thought.

"And, no, I'm not kidding. I would have thought.." Karen stops herself and thinks about what she knows. "Actually. Maybe not. You were in the bar there, with that book. Lots of other places you could have been. So you like your downtime. And you aren't necessarily into advertising what you do. Except.." And here she grins at him and teases, "When you're showing off. Nobody important, my ass."

Grant Ward has posed:
"Turkey with gravy. Hm." He seems to be judging her on the decision, but then he smiles to show he is just teasing. "Mine is a gyro. Extra veggies on it, and extra tzaziki. Likely with fries on the side." Grant pauses to think about that, and then he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be it."

The man leans back again, setting his coffee on the ground beside them. He stares at the ceiling again. "It's true. I could have been anywhere, just like you could have been. It worked out, right? Life is funny that way." He smirks when she mentions the showing off.

Karen Page has posed:
There is absolutely zero shame to her answer, and Karen sits there, looking smug, while he 'judges' her. His answer gets a smirk in return. "Street meat, huh? There's this little vendor just to the north side of Central Park. If you haven't tried him already, you should. The cart isn't even all that filthy looking, either. Says he's from the old country - I know, they all say that, but they're really, *really* good."

She ponders a moment. "I might even have to change my answer now that I'm thinking about them. Of course, it's probably because I'm starving. I dished the food out all day. No time for eating. Bad Karen, no biscuit, right?"

He gets another of those smiles, the ones that are unguarded. The kind she's probably not really aware she's giving. "Life is pretty funny a lot of the time."

Grant Ward has posed:
"Street meat is good, but there are some really good restaurants, too," he replies with a chuckle. "But I spent a lot of time out east and the food kind of grew on me, I guess." He shrugs. The man grins a bit as she describes the cart, and he nods. "Sounds legit."

He glances over at her and shakes his head as he offers that lopsided smile of his. "We need to get some food into you, don't we?"

Karen Page has posed:
"Restaurants? Have you seen my paycheque?" Karen rolls her eyes. "What am I saying. Of course you've seen my paycheque. Okay, it's not quite *that* dire, but I don't get out to them all that.. oh, I wasn't fishing if that's what you thought." She sits back with a small frown, puzzling over just how one handles this.

Grant Ward has posed:
"Your paycheck is something I have not seen, no." He grins and then pauses. "Do they actually pay you at that firm?," he asks curiously. The man sits up again and lifts his coffee back to his lips, taking a long sip.

Karen Page has posed:
A strawberry blonde brow arches delicately, "I probably shouldn't answer that question. Especially if you haven't seen my paycheque." Her own coffee is sipped before she murmurs, "I'm not really dressed to go out anywhere fancy, and I"m flat broke. I might have enough to split on pizza if you can cover the pitcher of beer?"

Ah, the life of a secretary in a struggling law firm. Definitely not as glamourous as the television shows made it out to be.

"That's if the offer of food still stands?" She tries not to look too embarrassed as she says it - it was her who said she wasn't fishing not two moments ago.

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant isn't fabulously rich, either, but...he does a lot better then Karen. Quite a bit better. He isn't one to brag, though. He nods to her. "I'd be happy to cover the beers. Half veggie? I like all the vegies on mine." Stupid...healthy...hero. He rises to his feet and rolls that bruised shoulder, as if causing the faint pain is a tic of his or something.

He glances about the tent and downs the remainder of his coffee. "There's a great pizzeria back in Brooklyn, but...I don't think you want to ride the subway out there. Good thing New York has great pizza every few blocks, hmm?"

Karen Page has posed:
"Subway isn't a problem. Getting home is?" Karen crinkles her nose, and gets up herself. "Veggies, huh? You're not going to nag me about extra pepperoni on mine? And say, those wings.. were they just for me?"

Her head tilts to one side as she considers the possibility he'd been being terribly charitable in ordering the plate of them the other day.

Grant Ward has posed:
He shakes his head and smiles softly. "I won't nag you, no. And I don't mind eating meat, I just also quite like vegetables. Meat is excellent protein." When she mentions the wing he glances aside, hiding a smile. "I don't know what you could mean, Karen."

"So. Know a place nearby?"

Karen Page has posed:
That promised sock to the arm earlier? He gets it now. Karen's free hand is balled up into a fist and makes a light *bop* to his arm. "Jerk." There's a garbage bin nearby for the cups, she offers to take his and dispose of it as well.

"Actually, I don't. This isn't my neighbourhood, and I've been too busy working to look around. I suppose we could walk until we hit somewhere? Oh!" The woman's face lights up as she grins, barely surpressing laughter. "That bar we were at? Josies? I went back with some friends after clubbing. We sooo grifted this guy named Franco and his buddies over pool. The look on their faces. I probably shouldn't have taken the twenty Elevator left them for cab fare, but I did. They nearly got themselves banned." There's a small shrug. "Okay. Maybe I'm not *that* boring."

Grant Ward has posed:
Her fist finds hard muscle, and he doesn't really seem to feel the punch. He chuckles, though. He makes his way over to hold the tent flap open for her, and he nods. "I'm fine with going on a nice walk. It's starting to cool down now, anyways." Grant's eyebrows arch at the mention of the bar and he shakes his head with a soft laugh. "Wow. Part of me is sad I missed it, part of me is glad."

Karen Page has posed:
Karen nods, and makes her way back after depositing the cups in the bin. She reaches up and rubs where she *bopped* his arm. "Hope I didn't hurt you there, soldier boy. Nice muscles by the way. Surprised you're not beating the women off with sticks right now. Bad boy good looks, and muscles to die for?" Her eyes twinkle. It's hard to tell how serious she is.

"I really had little to do with it other than explain some of the rules about staking tables to the rest of the group. Booster.. He defies explanation, but it was Elevator - Clarine - who swept up everything. Not sure what came over her, but yeah. It was impressive. Other than stealing that twenty back at the end? Wasn't really me at all."

Karen stands there a moment. "So. Are we holding hands kind of people, or walk beside each other kind of people?" Her eyes settle on his face as she asks, slowly sweeping up and capturing the gaze of his own.

Grant Ward has posed:
"You've commented on me fighting off other women before. Karen, if I wanted to be off with other women, I would be. I'm not. Have some confidence." He smiles at her. "Seriously. You're smart, you can hold your own in a conversation. You're witty. Add to that the fact that you're one hell of a person. Seriously, look around. You're helping all these people and getting nothing out of it. On top of -that- you're gorgeous."

Grant grins over at her as they walk along. "You're the one I want to be having dinner with, okay?" He nods to the explanation of what happened with her at the bar, and he slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Her question makes him blink, and after a moment he responds by pulling his hand from his pocket, and he reaches out to take her hand.

Karen Page has posed:
Before he offers his hand, he gets a blink or three from the woman. "You know, I didn't mean it that way - it was a joke, but you're right. It probably sounded like I was fishing or insecure or something...And I'm filthy and sweaty right now, but htank-you." He gets a laugh. "It really was a joke that time. Guys like you.. well, you're not a guy like you, so I'll shut up now. Shut up Karen."

She zips up her lips and tosses away the key - they way kids do in school when promising not to share secrets. "See?"

There's the expected awkward as she's caught him unawares with her question. It had been a serious question, but after it came out of her mouth - watching him take a moment to process it - she realizes maybe she should have just taken the bull by the horns and looped her arm through his. Or just walked beside him. It had seemed cute and funny at the time, but now? Now she wasn't so sure.

Except there was still the offer of a hand, a hand it would now be rude not to take. He gets a smirk. "Right. We'll handle this a little better next time." Her hand and fingers an easy fit into the nooks and crannies of his, threading into them neatly. "Lead on!"

Grant Ward has posed:
"It's alright, I just wanted to get that out of the way," he replies to her about that first bit. His fingers coil with hers as they walk along. She can feel the rough callouses of a figher on his knuckles and palms. "I don't want you to shut up. I just want you to know that I want to be here, that's all."

He leads the way, leaving the refugee camp behind. They walk along the sidewalk, and he takes everything in as they move. He is casual about it and does not seem tense, but he takes in everything around them. Possible violence, any sign of danger, escape points, possible weapons. It is just how he is wired.

Karen Page has posed:
"Sometimes I forget myself and let my mouth wander. Mostly when I'm relaxed and having fun. See? You do good things for me." Her thumb wanders over the nearest callous where their hands meet. "Met someone who is going to teach me some self-defense. Her family owns a Dojo. I just have to figure out timing."

She notices, but doesn't make mention of his checking things out for danger. In a way, it's like her boss - he's always careful with where he's stepping. That things aren't in the way. That he won't run into something he can't see.. Only different.

"I was going to call you.. well, if today is Monday, I was going to call you yesterday if you didn't find me. I uh.. guess I owe you an apology for that?" Karen gives a helpless little grin.

Grant Ward has posed:
"Nothing to apologize for. It's fine. This worked out."

He glances down at her and grins as they walk along. "A dojo, hmm? Interesting. Who would that be?," the man asks curiously. Not like he would know them, though. But maybe he's heard about the dojo!

They turn a corner and continues to walk. He glances up as they pass under some trees along the boulevard, which are beginning to change color for autumn.

Karen Page has posed:
"Greene's Dojo in Bludhaven. Met this cop while I was handing out coffee and sandwiches down in the front lines. That was a few days ago, before I switched over to the staging area. Something about I've got a way with people." Karen shrugs. her fingers give a little squeeze to his.

"I love this time of year, you know? Just when the trees are ready to drop their leaves. I always feel sad when the branches are bare, but right now they're just perfect. Of course we had a lot more trees back in Vermont, but I get to Central Park every now and then on my days off and feed the birds." Despite the signs that expressly ask people to NOT feed the birds bread.

Grant Ward has posed:
"Ah. Don't know it. But there is nothing wrong with learning some basic self defense."

"Christmas is my favorite time of year, but...I love Autumn, too. I never really celebrate the holiday much with my family. I mean...we celebrated, but...not really. Things were tough, I guess." He shrugs as they walk along. "But I still love the holiday, and the season. I don't mind the bare branches. I grew up in Connecticut." It's the first bit about his childhood or origins he has really told her.

Karen Page has posed:
He gets a head tilt of consideration, her steps slowing some. "Christmas, huh? Can't say I'm big on it myself. I think we always made Thanksgiving a bigger deal. Probably because folks just seemed to get together more for it. Christmas was smaller. We didn't really do the presents thing? What is it you like about it?"

Karen's pace remains slower, much more taking in the night, like they hadn't anywhere they were actually trying to get to. "Learning to fight was never something I thought about. Back home, I was a different person. You'd hardly have recognized me. After they tried to kill me, something changed. I was scared all the time for awhile, and then I got angry. Like, really angry. I still have the nightmares sometimes, but they're the only time I'm afraid of it anymore. I just don't think about it much." Which is to say when she thinks about it, the nightmares come back. She might be angry, but angry is a way to be safe. It's clear there are still things about it she needs to deal with.

Grant Ward has posed:
"I'm not really religious or anything, but...I think I like the snow, and the decorations and the...idea that everyone shows goodwill to eachother, even if it is all sort of bullshit. Gives me a bit of hope. In my career that is kind of important."

He walks at her speed, as he is clearly not in a rush, either. "I'd be sad if you didn't change, at least a little bit, after the shit that you went through. It isn't really humanly possinle."

Karen Page has posed:
"I'll give you snow," she allows. "I like how snow makes everything look new. At least before the cars and the plows get to it. You don't see much pristine snow here in the city, though. But back home.." Karen smiles to herself, but it's a sad little thing. "It feels like such a different place now. Not really home so much as the place I grew up."

She looks over, "Well, we all change, right? You're probably not who you thought you'd be when you were younger. I can't imagine how your job has changed you. I'm pretty sure the crap I lived through is pretty minor to yours." She's guessing. But there are enough spaces and places in what he's said and hasn't said to make her think her guess is accurate. Again her fingers squeeze his. "Not sure if I said this already, but I like you. I like this. It's nice. Can I ask you something, though?"

Grant Ward has posed:
"I haven't been back to my childhood home in...years. I don't plan on it anytime, soon. I don't talk to my family, either." He leaves it at that.

He nods to her statement about not being who he was when he was younger. "True. Some people cling, though, and do everything they can not to evolve. He gives her hand a small squeeze back and glances over at her as they walk. "I like you, and this, too. ANd sure, you can ask. I can't guarantee I can answer, though."

Karen Page has posed:
Karen's eyes twinkle as she slows to a stop. "Oh, I think you'll answer." And without so much as a by your leave, or how do you do, she tiptoes up the very small amount she needs to negate their differences in height, and offers him a soft kiss. Nothing fancy. Just a gentle lingering of lips, and then as easily as it came, she draws away.

Grant Ward has posed:
He slows to a stop when she does, and he turns towards her with a curious look on his face. His eyebrows rise as she presses her soft lips to hers, and he returns it before she pulls away again. He blinks a few times and then chuckles softly. "What...what was your question?"

Karen Page has posed:
Karen reaches up and brushes a finger over his lower lip. "I lied. No question. Well, kisses are a kind of question. Don't you think?" She waits patiently for his answer.

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant Ward replies to that by leaning in and kissing her back. This kiss, however, is deeper then the one she gave him. A real kiss. Lips brush against lips, tongue coils against tongue. Eventually, however, he breaks the kiss and grins. "How does that answer work for you?"

Karen Page has posed:
The answer isn't unexpected. Nor does it go without like comment, the return of his kiss an easy thing. There's no lament, though, when the kiss breaks, "I like the way you think," is Karen's soft reply. It comes with a chuckle. "I just wondered, that's all."

Now she laughs a little. "Just the beer, huh?"

Grant Ward has posed:
He grins down at her and turns to walk again, guiding her. "I guess I can cover the whole pizza. What do you want on your half?," he asks curiously as he glances over at her. He brushes his fingers back through his hair with his free hand.

Karen Page has posed:
His answer makes her laugh, and now she moves in closer, enough to lay her head on his shoulder. "Oh, you're funny. I meant the kiss. You said it was just the beer. And I already told you. Extra pepperoni. I'm feeling a bit the purist today." Ever so saucy as she says it, too.

Grant Ward has posed:
"Clearly not a local, then. A New Yorker would consider a plain cheese pie to be the purist way." He grins. "But not for me. I need stuff on my pizza. I like the whole...big, folding pieces thing they do out here, though." He glances down at her as they walk, furrowing his brow. "What about the kiss?" He seems to have missed the quip or joke or reference. Likely distracted by her lips.

Karen Page has posed:
Now Karen is outright laughing at him. "You told me the kiss was just because of the beer. When we met? You do realize the more I have to explain this, the less romantic it becomes, right?" Not that she sounds really bothered by it. "I never understood plain cheese pizza. It just seems so lonely that way. Sometimes I throw other things on it, but I don't know. Not feeling it tonight. You're right about the folding thing, though. I don't know that I can go back to those skinny little things they call slices other places."

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant Ward laughs softly and nods. "I'm sorry! I was just confused for a bit there. You get hit in the head a lot in my line of work," he jokes. The man nods as she mentions not being able to go back to thin slices. "I know what you mean..." He trails off as the sign for a pizzeria comes into view, and he holds open the door for her. Inside are a few scattered tables, and a counter to order. It smells divine.

Karen Page has posed:
"Let me know when I stop making you stop and think, okay? I wouldn't want to be boring." Which totally goes against what she said earlier about /being/ boring. Of course, she isn't, exactly. Nor is she ordinarly, really.

Karen points to a table near the back. "There. That one. We can sit and whisper about everyone that comes in from behind our menus. Pretend we know secret things about them all. Criticize their clothing."

Of course, she's being silly. It's been a long week. She's tired. And hungry. And there was that kiss..

"It wasn't just the beer," she says firmly. "And now we know."

Grant Ward has posed:
He nods when he sees the table, and he leads the way over there before letting go of her hand. "Alright, then." The man chuckles about her statements on making fun of other people. "No, it wasn't just the beer." He steps over to the front and fishes out his wallet. "Large, New York style. One side is double pepperoni, the other side is all the veggies with extra cheese. Add a pitcher of ..." He points to one of the beers on tap. "We'll go with Arrogant Bastard. Side of medium hot wings, too, with ranch." He pays for it all, regardless of saying he was just covering the beer. He then moves back over to the table and slides in across from her.

Karen Page has posed:
Karen quirks a brow at him when he returns. "Arrogant Bastard, huh? Is that a challenge?" Her lips purse in mirth. "And you remembered the wings." A giggle escapes her. "You know, someone once told me that if you eat too many of them your mouth is useless for other things. Just saying."

But she remembers her manners and gives a soft, "Thanks for paying, by the way. I feel kind of stupid for being, well, broke. It's a great job and all, but the pay is about what you'd expect for folks who dragged my butt out of the legal system and got my name cleared, without charging me for it."

Grant Ward has posed:
He chuckles. "No. It's a brewery." The man smirks at her quip about wings. "I went for medium this time. Flavor, not pain." A few minutes after he sits down, the server walks over and sets down the pitcher and two glasses. Grant picks it up and pours them both a beer.

"It's fine. I've been in worse financial places. Nothing to be embarassed about."

Karen Page has posed:
"It's hard to be a financially independant woman on dates when your pocketbook says you can go out for a soda, and only if you share it." She crinkles her nose at him. "I'll make it up to you when we get our next flush case. They come. Though this whole invasion thing has thrown us all for a loop."

There's a mock scowl from Karen about the wings. "I happen to like hot wings. They taste just fine. Harumph. Just becomes some of us in this party are wusses." That might, just might have been a quick tongue sticking out at him while he's busy pouring the beer. Quickly covered up as she reaches for her glass with a bob of head and a quick, "Thanks. And without an obnoxious amount of head, either. Also appreciated."

Grant Ward has posed:
The man laughs softly. "Survive SERE school and then tell me being able to eat very hot wings equates wussitude." He pauses and shakes his head. "...I am arguing about who is a wuss." He chuckles and brings his beer to his lips, and he is sipping it when she makes her comment about an obnoxious amount of head.

He chokes on the beer. He sputters for a moment and sets it down, slapping his chest a few times to clear his windpipes. "Phrasing," he manages.

Karen Page has posed:
With an absolutely straight face, Karen quips, "I win." Though it's clear by her blink at him when he chokes on his beer, that she's lost where he's going with that 'phrasing'. "Huh?"

"Pretty sure I wouldn't make it through whatever that is, SERE. So we'll call it a draw." She still looks confused about the choking on beer thing, taking her own glass and sipping with caution.

Grant Ward has posed:
"It was the comment about 'head', sorry. Caught me off-guard. Made me laugh." He brushes his fingers back through his hair and then takes a real sip of his beer to clear his pipes and all.

"SERE. Military survival training. But, you're right. I'm sure you'd do -just- fine." Grant grins across the table at her, and then glances up as the wings get set down between them with the ranch.

Karen Page has posed:
"Just fine he says. In that tone of voice." Karen snorts. Then flusters over, "Wrong kind of.. I mean, THAT is not what I .. and it can be obnoxious. Shut up Karen." That last muttered over her glass of beer.

She's glad of the arrival of the wings to give her a moment to compose herself.

Grant Ward has posed:
He grins a bit at her as she gets all flustered, and he playfully pushes his foot to hers, as if telling her it is all okay. He picks up a wing and dips it, before eating it. "Mn. Wow. It's always the holes in the wall places, right?" The wings are -very- tasty.

Karen Page has posed:
Subject changed. Phew. Moments to get back on an even keel. A wing is grabbed up and nibbled on, and not found to be wanting. "Trouble is, will we remember how to get back here again? You're right thought. These are fabulous."

The nudge of foot earns an appreciative smile. "I know, that probably totally came across exactly like someone who was raised in Vermont, huh? Except maybe without the slap across the cheek and flounce towards the door. You caught me off guard, too."

Grant Ward has posed:
"I'm good at catch people off-guard. You are too, though."

He works idly on the wings and washes it away with the beer as they chat. "It's fine. You being bashful about it makes it cuter, actually. Why New York?," he asks curiously. "Since you aren't from here, I mean."

Karen Page has posed:
Simple enough answer to that. "It's where the law firm is. Figured the least I could do after they saved my bacon was work for them. That and how was I supposed to go back to Vermont and pretend like none of that had happened? I wasn't Vermont anymore. I was.." She gestures around, a gesture that seems to encompass the entire city. "I was this. At least I think I am."

She makes her way through these wings more slowly than their last time eating them, thoughtful as she munches. "You know what people remember most about Vermont? The movie Holiday Inn. And the song White Christmas. You actually made me think of that - you saying it was your favourite holiday. I like the part where they march the general in best. Not too many people do. And I'm not a virgin if you're wondering."

Grant Ward has posed:
"I get that. I do. Like I said, I don't plan on going back to my family in Connecticut." It is far, far more complicated then that, of course. He pushes the plate to the side as the pizza is laid out between them. It looks...amazing. It could also just be that they are both very hungry. He snags one of his veggie and extra cheese slices, and he folds the slice to take a big bite. "Mmmn. Damn good." He furrows his brow. "You know...I love old movies, but I don't think I've seen Holiday Inn." Her statement about her being a virgin causes his eyebrows to arch, but he doesn't choke. "Well...me neither?" He laughs.

Karen Page has posed:
Karen chokes on a mouthful of beer, an almost exact imitation of his earlier reaction. "I should hope not!" Which makes her laugh. "Oh, that sounded horrible, didn't it?" She triest to cover for herself by offering, "It's a good movie. Cheesy, but good. Old. I don't know why I like some of them, I just do. Used to watch them with my grandparents when I was little. My grandfather would say they didn't make them like that anymore, and my grandma would say he only said that because he liked the dancing. I never understood if she was trying to insinuate something nefarious about him or not. They kind of stuck, though. Well, that one did."

Grant Ward has posed:
He grins a bit and works on the pizza. One his slice is done he eats another wing or two. Beer is sipped the entire time. He pauses, though, and fishes out his phone as it vibrates a few times. He checks a text and frowns a hint, before firing off a response and pocketing it again. "Work, sorry. I don't need to go or anything. Just the usual."