Super Bowl Fatigue (Lahja)

[Abe Milton]

This as not the optimal time for a date. Abe knew that. But he was tired of figuring out just what was the perfect time for a date. He and Lahja had gone out a few times, mostly in group settings. He enjoyed it. But tonight he wanted to see her alone. Spend some time not shouting over things and determine if there was more than just flirting and enjoying the way she looked.

Although he did like both. A lot.

Honest Abe's had a fair amount of people for the Super Bowl. It was a classy place where people who were mostly interested in watching the advertisements could in peace, and where true die-hard fans were fairly rare. That didn't mean they didn't exist at all. There had been a fair amount of people standing and yelling at the bar, but Abe moved all the other, tamer customers away so they didn't have to hear it and handled the bar himself. By the end of it his knee ached horribly, but he'd ended two near fights with his firm G-man voice, caught a few glasses that had were falling to the ground, and told a few drunks that they weren't allowed to have anymore. And since he wasn't afraid to kick them out, sometimes physically if need be, things stayed calm. Pilot Ridge just wasn't that interesting of a town, and things were tame after that. But there was still a lot of cleanup to do, and it was in the middle of that that Abe had the idea--the reckless, impulsive, rather stupid idea--to call Lahja and invite her over.

And much to his surprise, she said yes.

Cleanup went much faster after that, and the place was spotless--and mostly dark--when Lahja arrived. Abe was at the bar, putting the bottles back in their proper order. He turned and smiled as she stepped in.

"Hello. Want something while I'm standing here?" Remembering her preferences, he'd prepped a few things in the back--some mac and cheese and something very chocolate, just in case she wasn't really interested in dinner.

[Lahja Morgan]

The Super Bowl meant very little to Lahja, but she had it on her TV in the background while she was sewing. Whilst she had no love for the sport she knew that Jeff did, and she desperately wanted to be able to talk to him about it if he phoned later tonight or tomorrow. She mostly doubted he would phone tonight – his father had always been a far better source of sports gossip than she had ever been. However the phone did ring around eight o'clock, much to her surprise, and after shushing Five's barking her surprise only increased as she realised just who it was that had called.

Lahja had very much enjoyed Abe's company on the few times they had been out, but she had taken it all lightly without any real expectations of it actually going anywhere. Not that she had anything against Abe at all (in fact, quite the opposite was true), but it had mainly been going out in company to very public places and as lovely as that was, it just didn't feel quite as encouraging as it might.

However, the spoken invite was far more promising. Just the two of them, alone at his restaurant after closing. It was tempting. Tempting enough for her to say yes without much hesitation. Having showered and changed into her nightgown after coming in from the stables, Lahja knew it wouldn't take her very long to get dressed and ready to head over for the half past nine time Abe had specified. Plenty of time to finish hemming the skirt of the commissioned dress she was working on, get changed into something casually elegant and apply some make-up. Perfect. She phoned Jessica, her on-site assistant manager to let her know she would be out for the evening, and got back to work hemming the skirt.

The next time Lahja looked at the clock, it was ten past nine. “VITTU!”

Running into the bedroom and pulling on a pair of dark grey sweatpants to stop her legs from freezing in the cold evening air, Lahja just about had time to brush her hair into a fairly neat ponytail and shrug a coat on over her nightgown before slipping on a pair of low heels and rushing out to the garage.

Thankfully the roads were all but deserted on the way over, and Lahja pulled into the parking lot of Honest Abe's barely a minute after half past. After taking a moment to apply some lipstick from the emergency tube she kept in the glovebox, Lahja locked up the car and headed into the bar, greeting Abe with a warm smile and being intensely internally grateful that the place was indeed empty. Whilst she held little reservation about Abe seeing her in a nightgown, she very much could do without the leering of a bar full of drunk sports fans.

“Hello, and yes, please. A drink would be lovely.” She approached the bar with her smile unfaltering, placing her bag on the wooden counter and taking a seat on one of the stools. “Thank you for calling me... I had been hoping you would.”

[Abe Milton]

She was in a nightgown.

Abe wasn’t exactly clueless of women dressed in nightwear looked like, but he hadn’t expected Lahja to come to his place dressed in only a nightgown. His lips parted in shock, and then curved upwards. He didn’t know why he was surprised. She wasn’t shy. She’d come dressed as Jessica Rabbit to a party for heaven’s sake. Well, a man certainly couldn’t complain about a woman coming in in a nightgown. But Abe couldn’t help noticing other details. Like the fact that the woman had sweatpants under them, along with a pair of heels and…makeup?

“Can’t say I’ve had a woman come in her nightgown before,” Abe said, but offered her a smile to show that he didn’t mind. And he didn’t. Even if she came in with sweatpants too. It wasn’t like he was expecting anything, and it was flattering that she’d come. He wasn’t going to think of anything past that. “Now sweatpants, that’s one I’m used to. But sweatpants and heels?” His brows lifted. “Now there’s an interesting combination. But you still look great. And I’m glad you could make it. Both completely honest statements without him even considering either one. Well, he wasn’t going to think into this too much. Just try to enjoy the moment.

After all, she’d come in her nightgown. She had to like him a bit, right?

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I was hoping you’d come. What would you like to drink?” It didn’t take him long to fix it. He poured himself a small whiskey and settled down next to her. “I have some food options, if you were hungry. But I think I interrupted you doing something, since you look like you were settled in pretty comfortably. What were you up to?”

[Lahja Morgan]

For as unhappy as Lahja was with her current attire, it did give her some satisfaction to see the quite obviously pleasantly surprised look on Abe's face. Had she not lost track of time she held little doubt that she would have made quite an impression anyway, but it would have been much more elegant and refined and less literally thrown on at the last second. Still, Abe's reaction made her quiet frustrations with her less than stellar turnout much more difficult to pay attention to, and she returned his smile with a warm one of her own.

“I admit, I rushed out a bit. The sweats were clean and ironed, and it was either these heels or riding boots.” She chuckled softly, tucking a small flyaway lock of hair behind her ear. There was no lie to her statement, and she watched with calm contentedness as Abe fixed their drinks. “Thank you for calling me, I was hoping we would get some alone time at some point soon. Social gatherings are fine, but it is difficult to steal some time with you to just myself.”

As Abe took a seat beside her, she smiled fondly as he mentioned food options and her fingertips lightly rested on his forearm. “Thank you, that is very sweet.” After a moment's pause, she closed the gap between them and placed a feather-soft kiss against his cheek before carrying on with the conversation. “I was hemming the skirt of a dress I am making for a friend, it's how I unwind at the end of a long day. I just completely lost track of the time.”

Lahja chuckled softly to herself. “I don't make a habit of dressing in my nightwear on dates, komea. You should perhaps make the most of the moment.” She kept her tone and expression as neutral as she possibly could, curious to see his reaction based on where his mind took him with that.

[Abe Milton]

In truth, Abe wouldn’t have minded if she’d shown up in a bathrobe—well, he would’ve minded, but perhaps in a different way. He’d been stuck with a lot of people dressed in varying football-related colors all day. He appreciated something different. Besides, she was here. Who cared if she decided to dress up for a night at a closed restaurant? Abe’s more conservative habits and mindset of a long-married (albeit widowed now) man meant that he didn’t really care if she didn’t go all out for him. Besides…

It didn’t exactly look bad.

“You iron your sweatpants?” Abe’s brows climbed, and he smiled. “Ma’am, you’ve officially impressed me. Not many people iron sweats. And riding boots?” He didn’t mind that image either, but he just shrugged. “I’ve been on my feet all day. I think you’re in better shape than I am.” He finished the drinks and handed hers to her. “I’m glad you could join. Thanks for coming. I admit, I was kind of hoping for some alone time too. I’m just a little slow.” He settled down and clinked his glass against hers. “Here’s to a nice, and blessedly quiet evening.” He could use one.

He seemed surprised at the contact, but not displeased, letting his hand rest lightly over hers before removing it. “You make dresses?” His lips twitched up. “And you iron sweatpants. You’re an interesting woman.”

She was hard to read. It was rare that Abe experienced that. He was good at picking up cues. What the FBI had started years of restaurant ownership had finished. He scanned her face, trying to determine if she’d really meant to imply where his mind naturally meant. Well, she was forward. Or this was a test.

“Probably,” he said, a little wry. “But I am a good Jew and have a very vocal sister, so I’ll be a gentleman tonight. However.” He leaned in and pressed his lips, incredibly lightly, to hers before pulling away. “You’re beautiful no matter what you are wearing. And no matter what happens, I’m very lucky.”

[Lahja Morgan]

Lahja chuckled softly, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. “Most people don't; I do. I... admit I can be a bit fussy about appearances.” The 'confession' caused a quiet laugh to leave her lips. “I know it doesn't seem that way now, admittedly. In winter I sometimes wear them out on the yard over my riding pants, and I need to look at least presentable in case a client turns up.” That, and she did have something of a vain streak anyway.

Smiling gently as they clinked their glasses, Lahja took a long sip of her drink. It was cold and refreshing, mixed perfectly, and she placed it back down on the bar with a grateful smile towards Abe while they chatted. “Here's to, hopefully, being able to manage more than five minutes of conversation without being interrupted by well-meaning friends.”

The return of the gentle contact was very welcome, as was obvious by the contented look that crossed Lahja's features, and she shuffled to get comfortable on the bar stool. “Yes, I've been sewing for as long as I can remember. I made the dress that I wore at the Halloween party.” Lahja strongly believed that Abe would recall that particular outfit; she would bet that it had been a very large contributor to Abe approaching her in the first place. “Don't worry, I have some normal hobbies too. Sometimes I even walk the dog.” Partly true, but more often than not Five walked himself around the farm; one of the joys of life as a farm dog.

Lahja had quietly been hoping Abe's mind would wander down that road, and she would be lying if she said she was not at least a little disappointed by his impeccably polite let-down. She would not let it ruin her evening though, and she did ever so gently return the kiss to let him know she was not upset or offended. That did not stop her from letting a playful pout cross her lips. “Good manners ruin all the fun.” She chuckled light-heartedly, her expression relaxing and becoming soft and friendly. “But I understand. No pressure, ever.” She took another sip of her drink, enjoying the fruity kick, and rested her arms on the bar. “So, my overworked gentleman, have you tossed many football thugs out onto their heads this evening?”