8674/NYPD Shake Down at the Rink

NYPD Shake Down at the Rink
Date of Scene:	06 August 2019
Location:	NYC
Synopsis:	In which Darcy takes Frank out onna date.
Cast of Characters:	Darcy Lewis, Frank Quaid

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Darcy Lewis has posed:
It was Friday. Darcy had been splitting her time between SHIELD and the Joint Task Force with New York's Finest. She wasn't scheduled for anything with JTTF, which is what makes her walking in at 4pm on Friday a little weird. What makes it completely incomprehensible is her clothing and make up.

And the bright neon pink eyes.

"So... What's it going to take to get you to go out with me?" she asks from Frank's open doorway. She's leaned a shoulder to it, the leather of her yellow motorcycle jacket creaking slightly. Down the arms is a wide strip of black and white checkerboard, like you'd see on the side of new york ciity taxis. Underneath is a black bustier, studded, with straps that slip over her shoulders and cross between her shoulderblades. matching yellow leather mini skirt is paired with black fishnets into black army surplus combat boots. Her hair's mostly loose with thin loose-ish corn row braids at her temples that feed into thin loos braids in the main wave of her log hair. Thin bright yellow ribbons weave their way through the braids. Her irises are bright neon flamingo pink, like a radioactive Barbie doll on acid, and her lips are bright yellow.

If the office wasn't talking before... they are now. Especially with her ID badge clipped so prominently to her lapel. Her arms fold over her chest, revealing no gloves, but black nail polish with a single yellow accent nail on the middle finger of each hand.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank looks over from his computer. If it could have opened far enough, his jaw would fall through his desk and maybe even the floor below. As it is, he just gapes at this surreal vision of a woman in front of him.

"I... Darcy?" Frank manages finally.

Through the windows of his office Frank can see a dozen detectives standing up and looking across the cubicle walls at Frank and Darcy.

"What... Are you wearing? What are you doing?" he asks quietly, somewhere between mortified and stunned. His eyes flick to the people watching past Darcy as he walks over.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Taser Queen, actually," Darcy quips, with an aplomb that makes it sound like she's revealing that she's actually a super powered villainess whose taken to the police captain and now that she's infiltrated police headquarters, she's going to start her Reign of Terror.

"I'm wearing my Friday best. There's a game tonight and I wanted to invite you to go with me. And then maybe to dinner afterwards. Why? What are YOU wearing and what are YOU doing?" She counters, lips smirking. Utterly aware of the chaos behind her, she watches Frank moving toward her, unflinching and unwavering.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank's expression changes to something akin to amused disbelief. "I'm working! You know, how people do?"

"I can't believe you," the veteran cop says and laughs despite himself. That alone earns a few looks between the detectives. It does not take their eyes away from the mini-skirt though.

"Okay, you got me, I'll come, let's just get out of here," Frank says with a shake of his head. "You're unbelievable."

Frank goes back to his desk to grab his wallet, keys and suit jacket. "You're killing me here," he grumbles with a wry smile for Darcy when he comes back toward. "I'm in charge here, you know."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"People DO that?" Taser Queen replies, sounding falsely shocked. The broad grin doesn't help her case, and she giggles into his laugh. Pleased with herself, she just stays and waits, knowing that she's being ridiculous, but having taken a huge guess that it would take the ridiculous to get this far too stuffy cop to shake out the tension and let loose. After what she suspected he went through to end up in the hospital, Darcy felt he NEEDED this.

"No. Ann Belief A Belle skates for Liberty. I'm Taser from Grid Iron," Darcy quips as Frank grabs his wallet, the smirk broad and mischievous and victorious. Of course, then her ascerts that he's in charge, and she nods her head solemnly.

"Oh, of course you are. Never doubted that. No questions, at all, about you being in charge, while here, in this office building," she deadpans. Her expression ruins it and makes it clear that she is, in fact, laughing at him on the inside. She pushes away from the doorjam as he nears and turns to walk with him back through the cubicle farm of detectives checking out her ass.

"It's almost like your boys ain't never seen a woman before. Do you not let them go to strip clubs, Captain?" she asks with a falsely innocent tone, voice plenty loud enough for all of them to hear her.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"There's no strip club in the world that'd give these bastards their fill," Frank mutters good-naturedly.

"Sir?" calls one of the detectives. "Everything okay there, sir? Need a hand?"

There are bunch of snickers and poorly suppressed laughs in response.

"Carl," Frank says. He stops and turns. One of the detectives is covering her face and her shoulders are shaking in silent laughter. Another has turned bright red from the effort of keeping it in. A few turn their faces away. "I will punch you in the mouth. Right in the mouth."

Frank turns to keep walking after Darcy. The snickers erupt into full-throated laughs and whistles.

When they step into the elevator, Frank looks down at Darcy and laughs despite himself. "Darcy... You couldn't just text me?" he says with a smile.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Normally, Darcy would have told this Carl that she'd break him into tiny pieces, but when Frank rises to his own defense, Darcy waits patiently, with the sweetest of angelic smiles on her face. Which is odd when her eyes are acid pink and her lips are the same yellow as her jacket. She smiles at Frank when he joins her, and turns crispy in the elevator to regard the floor of detectives. The doors close before she turns to loko at Frank.

"Would you have actually taken me up on the offer if it was just a text? No. I don't think you would have. I think you would have thought I wasn't being serious, and then you'd have given me some very polite but stupidly lame excuse why you needed to stay in the office fielding yet more calls from Commissioner Dumb as Fuck about not having amy more information for him than you had five minutes earlier," Darcy replies, her voice a pleased ramble. She dips her hands into the pockets of her jacket, eyes slideing from Frank to the blurred reflection of him in the elevator doors.

"No. A personal invitation is so much harder to brush off," she states with a single nod.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"Yes, when the come like this..." he laughs. There is a bunch of buzzing from his pocket. Frank pulls out his phone and glances at it. He thumbs through a couple of messages and frowns at the last. "I was ready to say yes to just about anything to get you out of there!"

"Great, it's already started. I'm turning this off. Which I never do, by the way," he points out. Frank turns the phone off and slides it into his pocket. "So where is this game and why do you have to dress up like... I don't even know how to describe it." Frank says, giving Darcy a look up and down. "Very unique."

They could not be a more odd looking two when the elevator opens again. The Tazer Queen in all her surreal glory. And Frank Quaid. Brown suit, white shirt, tie, broken nose.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy watches him with that phone, chuckling low in her throat.

"Then my plan was a success," she says when the phone is powered down and repocketed.

"There's a rink in Greenswich Village, and I'm repping my girls. Grid Iron's playing, but since I work so much, I'm not on the roster to play. That's fine with me. Last time I was scheduled, I got pulled half way across the world to run comms. I hated leaving my team like that, so I officially retired and only play in exhibition matches as a wild card. Plus, that frees me up to keep seeing if I can get a team of super spies and field agents together. Thor was down with letting me call them the SHIELD Maidens last time I talked to him," Darcy rambles as she leads the way toward the waiting UBER. She even moves forward to get the door for him in a complete role reversal moment.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank just shakes his head. "Of course they'd be the SHIELD maidens," he grunts and chuckles. He raises an eyebrow at Darcy when she opens the door for him but climbs in without comments.

"You're committed. All dressed up and not even playing. A lot of people go to these games? This is new to me."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Of course. What other name could they possibly have?" she says, grinning, enjoying the way he quirks a brow at her for opening his door. She slides in just after and the driver pulls away. Their destination already given to him.

"Grid Iron's got a steady fan base. So do the Royals out of Queens, and we're close enough that I'm expecting a decent turn out. We won't fill Madison Square Garden like the sport did in its hayday, but we'll get a few hundred in the door, and then a few thousand watching hte live stream. You gone to a ball game?" she rambles, shifting a bit to regard Frank as the car rolls on.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"That's like asking if I drink beer," Frank points out. "I've got seasons tickets for the Mets. Never get to go so I just sell 'em off to the boys each game. But I buy them anyway," Frank says dryly. He snorts at himself.

"They all gonna be decked out like you?" he asks Darcy with a glance her way and then gestures to his chest. "Your tag."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy clicks her tongue at Frank, chiding him lightly for not getting out and enjoying himself. Of course, this as she's taking him out to try to get him to enjoy himself. So, there's that.

"Yes and no," she starts, pink eyes sliding down to her badge as he points it out to her. She unclips it and slides it into one of the inner pockets of her jacket.

"The ones playing will be in bout day uniform. The ones working will be in photoshoot uniforms. Retired players will be in whatever they like that reps the team the best," she explains, settling back calmly.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"Then this will be an experience," the older man says with a bit of a smile and shake of his head. "You a baseball fan? Basketball? Or are their team not crazy enough for you?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Baseball's boring as hell and basketball just doesn't have enough full body contact, but if you asked me out to a basketball game, I would totally say yes," Darcy replies, smile broadening into their arrival at the rink. She's quick to get out and to sweep around the other side of the car, nearest the sidewalk, to open the door for him. She refrains from holding her hand out though, thinking that perhaps that would be taking it too far for his liking.

Into the rink, and the sound and the smells. There's beer, of course, and rink food of pizza and popcorn. Darcy gets them in with suicide seats; chairs found rink side into which a player might be body checked.

The game is fast paced in bursts, slow as the pack seeks to prevent passage only for the jammer to explode free and sprint in a mad dash around the track to try to get through again. And Darcy cheers loudly like any die-hard fan would. She makes sure to explain things now and then, but the announcers do their jobs, keeping a dialog going about the action in front of them.

When the game is done and the Royals pull out a victory over the Iron 123 to 102, Darcy stands with the rest to high five all of the girls as they roll past, stepping out to give one of the Grid Iron skaters a hug. There's an introduction of Frank made to the skater, young Miss Dopper Tunity, who while even on skates makes Darcy at 5'3" look almost tall. The two girls are eye to eye, even with the skates adding nearly a half foot to her stature. Darcy bids her team farewell, declaring that she's got a hot date and has plans to go eat out now. The girls seem to know Darcy well enough to congratulate Frank while telling him to enjoy himself. Not a single one looks like they are willing to question Darcy, nor are they surprised when she offers him her elbow to lead back out into the New York night.

"Fuck. That was fun. Did you have fun?" she asks him, walking down the street toward some place to eat.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank tucks his tie away and unfastens the top button of his shirt when they hit their seats. He hangs his suit jacket up, rolls up his sleeves and chuckles, a lot. And even laughs. It is zany but still sport, and he soon has a bit of a feel for it. He even joins in behind Darcy giving high-fives to the skaters at the end.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly at Darcy's comment about a hot date and laughs at the congratulations before saying good night to Darcy's girls.

"I did, I admit," Frank concedes with a half-smile then teases. "Good to see you're not crazy on your own. They seem to have you all figured out."

Frank takes in breath of night air and lets it out. Even in the uneven light of a New York sidewalk at night, he looks less dour. "Should I even ask where we're going for dinner? If it's a strip club, I'm pulling the pin," he says wryly.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Less dour. Tht's all Darcy was hoping for. Smiling, Darcy rolls a shoulder.

"Birds of a feather. They're great girls. Been with them for years now," she says, happy that he's more relaxed.

"Would I do that to... wait. Yes. Yes I would. But tonight I'm not, I promise. No. Tonight, I figured we'd either walk to China Town to see what's up or find a streetwalk food truck. Unless you want something fancy ass. It's fun to walk in dressed like this and get a table in a place that's like all black tie. Ya know?"

Frank Quaid has posed:
"No, no I don't know," Frank replies with a laugh. "Can't say I've ever tried something like that. And with my luck, the Commissioner would be there with his new weather girl. China Town sounds good to me."

Frank walks along with Darcy, joking as they go, Frank responding to Darcy's total irreverence. And doing his level best to ignore the looks the mismatched two get. Whatever Darcy's other qualities, sheer confidence appeared to be high among them. And Frank for his part, says nothing about work. Not a war story, not a gripe, not a cop reference at all. He does seem to take particular delight in the reactions of the some of the guys who see Darcy.

When they get near the night market, the crowd is different. Some are part of its scene, others are clearly from outside the area. Couples on dates, groups of friends exploring.

"Never been here just to come here," Frank admits. "Since you're the boss tonight, lead the way. I'll try whatever you do.... Except chicken feet. I'm not doing that."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Oh God. No. Thanks. Chicken feet are a hard pass. I've heard of the Special Menu; I am not a fan of it. I like my Americanized Chinese food, thank you very much," she replies, having followed his lead in not bringing up work or war staories or anything. It's all light hearted disregard for what society thinks of proper.

"But I'm just happy to have your China Town Tourist V Card," she tells him, headed toward a place. "So, there's the all you can eat place I get my oral sex from, but there's also a Hop Tung and a Dim Sung, if you'd rather. Ooh, and a noodle place just down the way. All of those places I would go just because they are tehre to go to."

Frank Quaid has posed:
"I'm actually hungry, skipped lunch," Frank says. "So oral sex sounds great."

A young woman standing beside Frank looks over at him sharply with wide eyes. Frank opens his mouth to say something and just settles for a shrug. The young woman edges away.

"I'm gonna leave the off-colour jokes to you," Frank says with a chuckle and shake of his head. "Probably think you're a hooker now. This place better good since I just embarassed myself for it!"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
It all makes Darcy laugh. She's been mistaken for a cheap corner hooker before, and she's probably going to be mistaken for one again in the future. That Frank was the one to embarass himself with it, however, amuses Darcy almost as much as him chuckling about it pleases her.

"Oh, baby. It is the best mouth-sex you'll ever get," she states, making the woman even more uneasy. Leading the way, Darcy greets the hostess with a warm smile and a proper, even respectful, bow. And even if her accent is terrible, Darcy does say hello to the hostess in proper Chinese... whichever variant it was that the lady told her. Darcy doesn't know the difference, and the matron of the restaurant likes Darcy just enough to be flattered by the attempt the white girl offers. The two are taken to a booth where drinks are offered and they are asked if they want a menu or the buffet by a waitress. The hostess has moved to the kitchen to get fresh pot stickers made immediately.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank rolls his eyes and laughs at Darcy's return and pointedly avoids looking at the young woman. He quitely happily beats a hasty retreat with Darcy to the restaurant, smiles for the matron and takes a seat. Frank is all about the buffet when offered.

"Do you actually speak Chinese, or is that an elaborate ruse to impress me?" Frank asks dryly. "I'd believe it. You seem like a woman of hidden talents."

He looks after the waitress and back to Darcy. "She is gonna bring those potstickers you brought out, right? Won't lie, those were damn good."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
WIth the buffet selected, they are told they can get their plates as they like.

"Oh, it's totally a ruse. May talks bad about me in Chinese all teh time. Well, either she's talking bad about me or she's admitting her undying love. No idea which, because I haven't a clue what they are saying. But I know how to say 'Hi', or whatever it is. I dunno. Maybe I told her that I poop glitter and she's humoring me," Darcy admits shamelessly, grinning and motioning to the food bars.

"Yes. THey'll drop them on the table. Madame Chang knows me, and how much I love them. I always order like four orders worth when icome in regardless of whatever else I'm going to have, so... It's like. my usual."

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank barks a laugh at Darcy's comment about her Chinese and goes along with her lead to the buffet. Whether resigned or getting accustomed to the role reversals with Darcy, he seems to at least expect and go along with it.

"Good, I'd be disappointed if there weren't any more of those. It's the only reason I agreed to come out tonight," Frank deadpans. Realizing just how hungry he is, he starts to plate up a selection for himself. Lemon chicken, sweet and sour pork, beef broccoli, chow mein. About as classic as it gets, but good is good, which is good enough for him.

"You usually dress up wild and abduct men at random on Friday nights?" Frank teases. "Not that I'm complaining. This /is/ a lot better than what I would've been doing."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Happy to lead the way, Darcy also begins to load a plate. Lo mien, rice noddles, green beans, sweet and sour chicken rather than the pork.

"Oh.. I got you, boo. I know how tempting my mouth-sex is," she purrs at Frank, grinning as she collects some chicken teriyaki next.

"Hmm.. Not as often as I used to. I'm slowing down in my old age," Darcy laments on a snicker.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"Yeah, you looking really old," Frank says with a glance down from her face. "Must be hard. You get to that age, and rooms full of guys just don't notice you in a mini-skirt anymore. Tragic. Hope you can adjust."

Frank shakes his head and grins. He holds his drink up to Darcy with a smirk.

"To aging gracefully. Or wickedly and provocatively, depending on who you are."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"To aging," Darcy comletes the toast, lifting her glass to clink against Frank's. She drinks down a swig before tucking into her meal, happily bouncnig whent eh fresh and still steaming pot stickers arrive. She collects one with her chopsticks, then leans forward to plop it on Frank's plate. All while humming happily at the food.