[ ok now he definitely is joking. he's caught between offense and bemusement at that question. surprise he's been texting her while cooking this whole time it should be ready by the time she gets here. ]
[ he's self-aware enough that this doesn't bother him, but it is... interesting, that she assumed he had no other traits. he's just a hardened killer? a psycho maybe even. and that's who she wanted to have sex with? damn, jess, that's messed up. ]
it's fine. people assume a lot of things about people like us. right?
[ that last text scrolls across the top of her phone and she doesn't want to read into it too much but it definitely feels... passive aggressive. she really didn't mean anything by her comment, but. if he feels bad about it, it doesn't really matter, does it?
should she turn around? ]
and what about me
am i what you expected
[ she wasn't exactly sure what she expected when she met him. for him to be more like her, probably. you walk into her apartment, look at her, listen to her and you know she isn't right. but frank? if it wasn't for the obvious bruising and cuts all over his body at all times you probably wouldn't know any better. his clean apartment with the classics softly playing in the background while he tends to the pasta on his stove. it's just so... normal. he's not damaged in the way she is, and what's what surprises her. that's all. ]
[ there's definitely some trauma behind that but that comment made her feel... better about herself somehow? so she'll try to return the favor instead. ]
then i guess that makes us both pleasantly surprised with each other
[ and after some time she'll be walking through said door with a bottle in her hand, peering into the apartment. she's hit with the smell of his cooking almost immediately and finds him in the kitchen, tending to his meal. ]
Here.
[ like... yeah she's here obviously, but that's not what she means. she holds out the bottle she has to him. ] Pinot Noir. Guy at the store said it pairs best with red sauce.
[ she may or may not be looking over his shoulder to see if he actually... made red sauce. ]
[ he's just turning off the stove as she strolls in and he turns the full brunt of his bright smile on her. his eyes scan her face, a few fading bruises and scratches left behind but he looks almost normal again. frank moves to take the bottle, calloused fingers brushing hers as he shakes his head. wine always reminds him of the liebermans, but pinot noir is a far cry from sarah's rosé. his lips turn down, still smiling but a more private, grateful smile now before frank turns from her and back to his work. he's wearing a t-shirt and jeans and still looks damp from a shower. he vaguely smells like soap (which is better than he usually smells, so.) ]
Thank you. [ he sets down the bottle and gestures to the drawer close to his right arm. ] Corkscrew's in there if you wanna-
[ he gets down two shallow bowls from the cupboard above him, his shirt riding up a little to expose the healing patchwork at his side. no longer a broken unit, just a slightly discolored one. ]
[ she's smirking at him if he turns to see if she's serious. taking off her jacket she places it by the door and then returns to him at the kitchen. she's wearing pretty much the same thing as last time, with a blank tank top instead of gray. ]
I haven't eaten in awhile, so. Whatever you wanna do with that.
[ she walks towards where he motioned for the bottle opener and pulls it out and starts to work away at the bottle. ]
[ ones he'd usually fill with bourbon or whiskey when beer wasn't cutting it. he's not really a wine guy, not enough to have real glasses for it anyway. it seems so... normal. it strikes him for a moment, even as his gaze runs over her shoulder and down her arm - distracted before he remembers himself. he goes to get them out and plunks them down on the counter for her with a sheepish smile.
while she's doing that he'll scoop up some of the sauce with his wooden spoon, catching her eyes before moving it in close to her mouth, his hand cupped underneath. ]
[ it all feels foreign to her. wine, like... she can't even remember the last time she had wine. never by choice, at least. she has to remember how to even use a bottle opener before finally popping the cork out of the top.
when he sets the glasses down she wastes no time pouring, not really sure what the right portion size was. middle of the glass? that sounded good. can she go to the top with hers?
she turns with both hands on the glasses to hand them over when she catches him making his way over to her with the spoon. there's a small laugh that breaks past her lips and she stares at him like... you serious?
but she indulges this anyway, putting a little bit of the spoon in her mouth and tasting it, moving a thumb up to wipe away the access. ]
You did good, Castle. And I don't impress easy, especially when it comes to food.
[ she says that with a smirk, handing him his glass. ]
[ most of them have cheesy patterns, too. no two the same. his favorite has a big chip in it and declares Go Indiana Hoosiers! but he has quite the random collection (what even is a hoosier?) the way she indulges his silliness doesn't go unnoticed either and he bites into his lips as his eyes track down to her mouth automatically to watch her tongue dart across. his tummy flutters, fighting back the urge to lean in and taste the sauce off her lips himself. ]
Did you just admit I impress you?
[ a teasing challenge as his fingers brush hers against his glass as he immediately takes a sip to hide how affected he is. ]
Your cooking, at least. Everything else is still up for debate.
[ she's been taking a note of all his touches, trying to decide what to do with that. it makes her feel silly, that simple things like that even get her excited, which is why she doesn't really do anything with it.
her eyes fall on the table and she laughs when he says that because god this is so corny. bringing a hand up to her mouth she shakes her head a bit before turning her attention back to his direction. ]
Come on, this is dumb. [ she says that, but that big smile hasn't gone off her face as she backs herself in the direction of the table. ] If anyone should be doing all the work its me. [ she gives a small little head tilt to her arms. ] Super hero, and all.
[ god, she's... gorgeous when she smiles like that. radiant even. his expression turns softer than ever as he takes another sip before moving to deposit his wine across from her at the rickety table. ]
Oh, you're a superhero now? Gonna apply for the A-team?
[ he shakes his head as he spins to plate their dinners, a heaping portion on each since he hasn't eaten himself today either and a part of him is curious to see if she'll eat it all. fresh parmesan and bread he warmed a few minutes joins everything, and he whips up a quick bowl of olive oil and garlic for it before finally sitting his ass down. it feels like the first time today, even if technically he'd been on a stakeout earlier. that was work. this is— as yet undefined.
frank smiles at her a final time before picking his fork back up and shifting the flowers on his table out of the way so he can watch her instead. this time it's just a few peach-colored peonies, they're much fresher than the last bouquet was even though it's a sparse sampling. ]
I'm thinking about starting my own team, actually. Wanna join?
[ she says this while raising a brow and her glass up to her lips, taking a big sip before looking at his preparations in front of her. it's the nicest and freshest thing she's eaten in... god, who knows how long. it actually looks really good, and she wants to ask him about it and where he got his cooking skills from but she doesn't really want the conversation to have the potential to sour. ]
Great benefits to working for me, too. [ she's trying to maintain this confidence, but his stupid smile makes her smile again and she shakes her head one last time while setting down her wine glass and picking up her fork. bless her heart, she's trying so hard to swallow her pride and enjoy this but she's so out of her comfort zone right now--being cooked for, waited on. she doesn't need any of this, but... when she looks up and sees his smile again, suddenly everything doesn't feel so out of place. she might not need it, but that doesn't mean she can't try to enjoy it.
after a few jabs into the noodles she takes a bite, savoring the warm and homemade food. there's a 'mmm' sound she makes in between chewing, and she waits until most of her food is swallowed before saying anything about it. ]
It could be because I haven't had anything that hasn't been delivered to my door in months, but this? Incredible, I don't even care if I'm giving you a compliment. Take it.
[ who needs pride when you have pasta? she goes in for another bite. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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you realize you dont have to do this right
you could feed me toast and theres a good chance youd probably get laid
[ who the fuck makes people dinner. who is he. what is this. she doesn't know what to do with any of it. ]
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[ if that helps... the scenario at all for her. ]
besides i like to cook
[ is that another 'unexpected' fact? ]
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put my napkin in my lap too
[ sorry, she may or may not be laughing at this whole scenario while getting into her ride. ]
how are you the punisher
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[ ok now he definitely is joking. he's caught between offense and bemusement at that question. surprise he's been texting her while cooking this whole time it should be ready by the time she gets here. ]
i already told you that story
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yeah sorry i just
we were talking about how youre not what i expected earlier and this would be one of those moments to cement it
[ to be fair she probably knows a lot more about him than he knows. ]
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[ he's self-aware enough that this doesn't bother him, but it is... interesting, that she assumed he had no other traits. he's just a hardened killer? a psycho maybe even. and that's who she wanted to have sex with? damn, jess, that's messed up. ]
it's fine. people assume a lot of things about people like us. right?
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should she turn around? ]
and what about me
am i what you expected
[ she wasn't exactly sure what she expected when she met him. for him to be more like her, probably. you walk into her apartment, look at her, listen to her and you know she isn't right. but frank? if it wasn't for the obvious bruising and cuts all over his body at all times you probably wouldn't know any better. his clean apartment with the classics softly playing in the background while he tends to the pasta on his stove. it's just so... normal. he's not damaged in the way she is, and what's what surprises her. that's all. ]
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no. i expected you to be nicer.
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ive never been nice
even before all the trauma so
sorry to disappoint
[ this ride feels a lot longer without the stop to get alcohol on the way, strangely enough. ]
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then i guess that makes us both pleasantly surprised with each other
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[ yeah she absolutely is dipping out after making a somewhat sweet comment she's such a fucking child ]
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Here.
[ like... yeah she's here obviously, but that's not what she means. she holds out the bottle she has to him. ] Pinot Noir. Guy at the store said it pairs best with red sauce.
[ she may or may not be looking over his shoulder to see if he actually... made red sauce. ]
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Thank you. [ he sets down the bottle and gestures to the drawer close to his right arm. ] Corkscrew's in there if you wanna-
[ he gets down two shallow bowls from the cupboard above him, his shirt riding up a little to expose the healing patchwork at his side. no longer a broken unit, just a slightly discolored one. ]
How hungry are you?
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[ she's smirking at him if he turns to see if she's serious. taking off her jacket she places it by the door and then returns to him at the kitchen. she's wearing pretty much the same thing as last time, with a blank tank top instead of gray. ]
I haven't eaten in awhile, so. Whatever you wanna do with that.
[ she walks towards where he motioned for the bottle opener and pulls it out and starts to work away at the bottle. ]
You got any glasses?
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[ ones he'd usually fill with bourbon or whiskey when beer wasn't cutting it. he's not really a wine guy, not enough to have real glasses for it anyway. it seems so... normal. it strikes him for a moment, even as his gaze runs over her shoulder and down her arm - distracted before he remembers himself. he goes to get them out and plunks them down on the counter for her with a sheepish smile.
while she's doing that he'll scoop up some of the sauce with his wooden spoon, catching her eyes before moving it in close to her mouth, his hand cupped underneath. ]
Go on, be brutal.
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[ it all feels foreign to her. wine, like... she can't even remember the last time she had wine. never by choice, at least. she has to remember how to even use a bottle opener before finally popping the cork out of the top.
when he sets the glasses down she wastes no time pouring, not really sure what the right portion size was. middle of the glass? that sounded good. can she go to the top with hers?
she turns with both hands on the glasses to hand them over when she catches him making his way over to her with the spoon. there's a small laugh that breaks past her lips and she stares at him like... you serious?
but she indulges this anyway, putting a little bit of the spoon in her mouth and tasting it, moving a thumb up to wipe away the access. ]
You did good, Castle. And I don't impress easy, especially when it comes to food.
[ she says that with a smirk, handing him his glass. ]
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[ most of them have cheesy patterns, too. no two the same. his favorite has a big chip in it and declares Go Indiana Hoosiers! but he has quite the random collection (what even is a hoosier?) the way she indulges his silliness doesn't go unnoticed either and he bites into his lips as his eyes track down to her mouth automatically to watch her tongue dart across. his tummy flutters, fighting back the urge to lean in and taste the sauce off her lips himself. ]
Did you just admit I impress you?
[ a teasing challenge as his fingers brush hers against his glass as he immediately takes a sip to hide how affected he is. ]
Go on, go sit down. I'll bring everything over.
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[ she's been taking a note of all his touches, trying to decide what to do with that. it makes her feel silly, that simple things like that even get her excited, which is why she doesn't really do anything with it.
her eyes fall on the table and she laughs when he says that because god this is so corny. bringing a hand up to her mouth she shakes her head a bit before turning her attention back to his direction. ]
Come on, this is dumb. [ she says that, but that big smile hasn't gone off her face as she backs herself in the direction of the table. ] If anyone should be doing all the work its me. [ she gives a small little head tilt to her arms. ] Super hero, and all.
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Oh, you're a superhero now? Gonna apply for the A-team?
[ he shakes his head as he spins to plate their dinners, a heaping portion on each since he hasn't eaten himself today either and a part of him is curious to see if she'll eat it all. fresh parmesan and bread he warmed a few minutes joins everything, and he whips up a quick bowl of olive oil and garlic for it before finally sitting his ass down. it feels like the first time today, even if technically he'd been on a stakeout earlier. that was work. this is— as yet undefined.
frank smiles at her a final time before picking his fork back up and shifting the flowers on his table out of the way so he can watch her instead. this time it's just a few peach-colored peonies, they're much fresher than the last bouquet was even though it's a sparse sampling. ]
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[ she says this while raising a brow and her glass up to her lips, taking a big sip before looking at his preparations in front of her. it's the nicest and freshest thing she's eaten in... god, who knows how long. it actually looks really good, and she wants to ask him about it and where he got his cooking skills from but she doesn't really want the conversation to have the potential to sour. ]
Great benefits to working for me, too. [ she's trying to maintain this confidence, but his stupid smile makes her smile again and she shakes her head one last time while setting down her wine glass and picking up her fork. bless her heart, she's trying so hard to swallow her pride and enjoy this but she's so out of her comfort zone right now--being cooked for, waited on. she doesn't need any of this, but... when she looks up and sees his smile again, suddenly everything doesn't feel so out of place. she might not need it, but that doesn't mean she can't try to enjoy it.
after a few jabs into the noodles she takes a bite, savoring the warm and homemade food. there's a 'mmm' sound she makes in between chewing, and she waits until most of her food is swallowed before saying anything about it. ]
It could be because I haven't had anything that hasn't been delivered to my door in months, but this? Incredible, I don't even care if I'm giving you a compliment. Take it.
[ who needs pride when you have pasta? she goes in for another bite. ]
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