Matters of Chance [Cobalt and Josh]

Josh had felt quite horrible for how poker night had ended -- and begun, for that matter, but especially for how it had ended -- and so he had insisted on inviting Cobalt out to dinner with him as an apology. As his skills in the kitchen were lacking, this meant going out somewhere, which had been tricky to negotiate, but in the end the promise of divine dessert had won the younger man over and they had headed out to the Eiffel Lounge, prepared for delicious food. Cobalt had even seemed relaxed about the prospect -- right up until they arrived at the restaurant and saw just how many tourists had chosen that particular time and place for dining.

"But we're here already!" He'd argued when his friend had mentioned not having to stay after all, "Let's at least see how long the wait is before making a decision." And the wait, it had turned out, hadn't been long at all. There was one table available, and while it seated more than two, Josh had assured the hostess that they wouldn't linger; he was sure this was true, as his friend looked ready to bolt at any moment. They would probably end up scarfing down their meal and leaving as quickly as the beleaguered staff would let them. Such a shame; a leisurely night with an interesting conversationalist had been appealing. Next time he would just pick up a baked chicken from the grocery store, then; that way there would be less social anxiety ruining his attempts to combine apologizing with bonding.

"I promise the dessert is worth this," He offered, trying to reassure the other man that the decision to accompany him had been the right one. "There aren't usually this many people here..." He had only moved to Pilot Ridge at the beginning of the summer, not long enough to be aware of things like tourist season. He'd heard stories from Sean, of course, but they hadn't really registered as reality yet. He tapped his menu against the table, looking to see if anyone remotely like a waitress would be coming over soon. "Do you know what you're getting? I can try and flag someone down if you do so we can be out of here quickly..."

He returned his attention to the menu, memorizing the item he intended to order as if he'd never had it before and was likely to forget the name in the time between deciding upon it and the waitress appearing to take their order. Of course, as busy as things were he very well might...he realized that the staff were swamped but that didn't make waiting more fun. It merely meant he wasn't going to complain about it.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice spoke at his shoulder, and Josh glanced up to see the hostess who had seated them hovering anxiously, another man behind her. "You wouldn't...you wouldn't mind sharing a table, would you?"

He took a quick look at Cobalt then at the rest of the restaurant -- every last table was full and there was a line out the door; The table they were at could comfortably seat at least four and it looked like she only had one person in tow, so denying him would be really very rude. "No, of course we don't mind!" He answered with alacrity before his companion could object. He knew that the other attorney wasn't comfortable with crowds -- which made this outing much more awkward than it was meant to be -- but one person couldn't be too much of a problem. He might not even want to talk to them! Not that Josh himself minded conversations with people he didn't know, but as he actually had someone to eat with for once he would leave the stranger alone should he choose to remain silent.

He gave the girl and the patron with her a smile. "It's not a problem at all, we can't use this much room by ourselves." He scooted his chair over, giving the new person room to sit beside him -- he wasn't confident that Cobalt wouldn't faint if the chair next to him was the one chosen, so it seemed best to make a point of offering the one that would cause the least amount of problems. "Awful busy in here today, isn't it?" He commented, "Wasn't expecting so many people to want crepes today."

The place was packed; that much was certain. Though he far from feared that the waitress might be stringing him along, putting him with other people in hopes of reserving a full table for a larger group and thus bigger bill, Stephen saw quite plainly that the stressed look on her face was rather well-earned. Unfamiliar voices filled the air, something of a rare occurrence in the small town of Pilot Ridge. Accents from states far and away from Vermont reminded the recruiter of his trips abroad, bringing people like himself to what he hoped would be their second home. The grin that seemed to be perpetually borne on his face was cast at anyone who looked up at him as he passed, offering the tourists a warm "Hello" as he and the waitress snaked their way through the crowd. People with more familiar words, Northerners, rarely returned the gesture. Those from the South, however, smiled and offered him the same niceties. Stephen figured it probably had something to do with their home climate. Frigid temperatures half the year couldn't possibly make anyone a terribly nice person.

Caught in an attempt to to identify a vaguely familiar face on the other side of the restaurant, Stephen only heard the waitress speak to what would hopefully be his new tablemates. The recruiter was craning his neck, attempting to get a better look, and after a few moments of failing, gave up and turned to face his hosts.

Oh holy Jesus and all the little orphans.

Men. With glasses. Two of them. Something up above must have certainly liked Stephen, for yea, he certainly liked what he saw. He had never been entirely sure where his fascination with bespectacled men began, but Mr. Gage would go to his grave without having complained a bit about it. Self-control was a quality his own ability had taught him well, and so while his heart was aflutter with excitement, the Stephen Gage displayed to the world merely smiled in thanks as the men accepted his visit. The waitress stepped aside and gestured to the seat. Oh, she'd be getting a fantastic tip. "Thanks very much, love. same to you guys. Much obliged."

Stephen took the seat, waving a small goodbye to the waitress as she went off, assuring him that their server would arrive shortly. Silence reigned briefly at the table. For even someone as self-controlled as Stephen could give way a bit to their own excitement. Glasses or not, these men were at the very least perchance friends that he'd not yet met. That would have to be fixed posthaste. Stephen chuckled, pulling a menu out from behind the sugar container and flipping it open. He spoke casually, only vage hints of Scotland still in his voice. "Ever year, it gets like this, and every year, I forget. One of these days, I'll remember when tourist season comes 'round."

"Tourist season! Is that what this is." Josh mused, gazing about at the crowd speculatively. That certainly explained things; he wasn't sure this many people resided in Pilot's Ridge normally. "I only moved here earlier in the year," He explained, unrolling his flatware and placing his napkin in his lap, "So I'm not quite familiar with what counts as tourist season here." He eyed Cobalt, "Actually, I suppose we're both new to the area. In a way. Cobalt....is technically moving back, I suppose, and I have a friend here I've visited often, but I admit I never paid much attention to when tourists were around."

He had to try very hard not to turn around and look for their waitress; the place was packed and she had only just seated new person at their table, but he was so hungry. "I take it you've lived in the area awhile, then?" He remarked, attempting to ignore his stomach's vocal attempts to get his attention. Shut up, stomach! I know you're hungry. Can't do anything about that yet.

He nodded his acknowledgment when Cobalt introduced him. "Pleasure to meet you. And I wasn't lying," He added, addressing this comment toward his fellow attorney, "the desserts here are well worth the wait. Assuming they have any left by the time we get to that part of the meal..." That would make him very unhappy, seeing as dessert had been the main reason for choosing this particular dining establishment. "Perhaps we should order dessert first." Or perhaps their waitress would hold some aside for them. Whenever she came to take their order. Please, please let that be soon; he was famished and his stomach's growling wouldn't let him forget it.

Stephen was awfully… cheery about all this. Which baffled Cobalt just a bit. He never could understand the type of people who enjoyed talking to anyone in any situation. How would you know what to say? It didn’t make any sense to him. He leaned forward, deciding to keep the conversation safely on the other man. “You have an accent,” He observed, “It sounds… Irish or Scottish. I can’t really tell. Where are you from?”

At Josh’s suggestion they order dessert first, Cobalt nodded, “I’m good for that. That’s really why I’m here as well. That, and I prefer dessert to most other meals.” Well, he should say all other meals. Because sweets trumped every other food in Cobalt’s book. “And I’d rather not wait around too long for anything. It is awfully crowded around here.” Cobalt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. All things considered, he thought he was handling this whole thing rather well. Leila would be proud of him. Maybe he’d even tell her about this to get her to be quiet. Maybe. He glanced over at Josh, “By the way, Josh. One of you two is going to have to tell me what to get, because I’ve never been here before and I don’t know what’s good.”

Deciding that awkward silence was worse than stilted conversation, Cobalt cleared his throat and continued. “So… what do you do, Stephen? If I were to hazard a guess, I would say Hammel.” He smirked, glancing sidelong at Josh, “Mostly because everyone and their brother works at that school these days.” He leaned back in his chair, wondering if he was fishing for arguments. It was entirely possible; arguments were much easier for him to handle than polite conversation. And besides, he made friends with Josh through debate, it wasn’t a totally inelegant way to get to know another person. And Stephen seemed a laid-back sort of fellow, it would take a lot to offend him which (contrary to what people believed) was never really Cobalt’s aim. He just liked to argue.

The two men seemed to have a bit of a rapport with one another. Stephen had assumed as much, given that they were sitting right next to one another at a table clearly meant for at least a small group of people. Friends, lovers, something in the middle, Stephen had no idea, but it was easy to see the enjoyment in the other's company, even allowing for (or perhaps because of) the words and spat they shared. And evidently they shared a mutual friend, somebody named Leila. Pilot Ridge was a small place. If she lived here, and Stephen didn't yet know her, he soon would.

The subject of dessert arose: one of Stephen's favorite topics. "You can't go wrong with a crepe. Ever." Stephen's two cents, as brief as they were wise, were all he needed to let out before he satisfied himself with simply sitting back and watching. Cobalt asked him a question, though Joshua responded before the puppeteer could manage a word. Cobalt's guess was entirely correct, of course. Stephen did indeed work at Hammel, and his association with the institution went back nearly two decades. Josh finished his bit, and Stephen made note of the fact that he mentioned a brother. Potentially worth looking into if this fledgling relationship sours.

Stephen let out a chuckle at Joshua's suggestion. Well, there wasn't a mystical influence, but something close enough to it. He raised his hands in an imitation of guilt, nodding. "You got me, you got me. I work up at the Institute. I'm a recruiter. No magic involved," he said, laughing slightly as he did. "Just a good family feeling. Place is more home to me than... well, home."

The waitress came back, likely by some divine machination of what was apparently a kind God, and Joshua jumped at the opportunity. Tiramisu. Nice. Not a crepe, but still good. Stephen waited for the girl to take down the order, tossing his own into the fray when she was done. "Just a crepe, please. Lemon juice and sugar?" He held up the menu for her to take, smiling, and looking somewhat expectantly upon Cobalt. "Going to make this Leila person jealous or no?"