ArchivedLogs:Score?

Score?
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Shelby	New Year's Day A chance meeting leads to dinner and a place to crash.
Location <NYC> Central Park South
Central Park South is home not just to the park itself, but also to the Belvedere Castle, the Alice in Wonderland statues, and the Central Park Zoo. These areas tend to draw tourists like a magnet - it is, perhaps, for that very reason that places like Bethesda Terrace tend to attract more New Yorkers than not, if just to escape the press of tourism that infiltrates the whole city. You'd think the tourists would give it a rest on the first day of the year; maybe stay inside, sip away hangovers with large mugs of expensive hot chocolate, enjoy a few quieter pursuits. But no! Central Park is as busy as any other day and with the trees still strung with lights, and a fresh snow on the ground, it isn't difficult to see why. Bare branches sparkle and glitter like a forest from fairy tales, the sky is a crisp, clear blue and even the cold afternoon air is pretty in its way, turning breath into billows of white cotton candy in front of the faces of those strolling down the paths. With tourists come those looking to make a few coins off of them. Cart vendors have set up shop at strategic locations, peddling styrofoam bowls of chili, or cheese-saturated hot dogs, or bags of boiled peanuts. There's a living statue over there, bundled up in layers worn beneath a silver spacesuit. His helmet hides his face and he's having fun by slooooowly shifting position whenever a kid comes by, just to make them squeal and jump when they realize he's moved. And then there's Shelby, who has staked her claim to the Alice statues. Someone-- either her or another artist-- has smeared chalk over the figures to dull the bronze and give them a spark of life. Shelby's spread a blanket on the mushroom beneath Alice's outspread hands and there she sits in a half-lotus, far dumpier in her heavy winter gear than the caterpillar was, with a borrowed guitar in her lap and fingerless gloves picking at the strings. The end of her nose is red and the tips of her fingers are white with chill but still she plays, singing breathless versions of popular holiday songs. The guitar case is opened on the ground below her, ready to accept (hopefully generous) donations for her attempt. Stepping from the direction of the Bethesda Terrace along the path with feet too quick and eyes too disinterested at the surroundings to be a tourist, a man approaches along the path to the Alice statues. Nor do most tourists wear a white dress shirt and black slacks with a corporate ID hanging from their belt - Mount Sinai Hospital, though it is facing wrong-side forward to read a name off of it. Bright blue eyes briefly sweep Shelby before they continue onto the path in front of her, feet quickly bringing the man past Shelby. Only a few feet past, though, before he slows to a stop and turns around. Iolaus' eyes fix on Shelby's fingertips, flicking to her face, her clothes, and he approaches, footsteps slower than before. One hand fishes into a pocket and pulls out a wallet, fishing out two dollar bills which he leans forward to drop into the guitar case. "Hello. How's the day going?" The two bills join a five and a scattering of coins-- if the man is at all familiar with the tradition of busking, he might know that to be bait money designed to bring in bigger tips. Shelby's playing had continued without break during the approach, the passing by and the return. She is, in fact, prepared for his study of her because there's a broad gap-toothed grin that appears as soon as his eyes fall on her person. The money is a treat to see and she rewards his efforts at charity with a nod and a quick flourish of strings that sends notes skittering off into the empty branches overhead. But the song pauses when he actually -talks- to her. That brings a cocked head and a return of his study. How to answer, how to answer... "Magically!" she finally decides, making her voice a chirpy thing. "I mean, I think my butt might be numb but isn't it gorgeous? You got any requests, mister? I take requests." "Your fingers too, it looks." Iolaus says, a note of concern in his voice. He flickers his eyes over her once more, then drop to the case to study the money in it. He glances around him, at the other people passing by, and purses his lips. "Doesn't look like you're having much luck. Been at it long?" he asks, not answering her question. The fingers in question are flexed, blood leaving her knuckles as they bunch into fists before relaxing again to drape over the guitar. The concern evident in his expression turns Shelby's expression rueful, her smile tilted as if to say 'What can you do?'. "An hour or so. I think everyone spent their wads...uh, their money on drinks last night. But!" A surge of optimism returns the grin to her face. "Are you like, a doctor? Will a frozen butt kill me?" Iolaus chuckles and nods, once. "Yes... and no. But a frozen rest of you certainly could make you sick, and you look cold like you've been out for a lot longer than an hour." He glances down at the ground. "Sitting on the ground probably isn't helping you stay warm. You should get inside where it's warmer, if you think the evening isn't going to be... much more profitable." he suggests. "Well...maybe it's been longer. But I lose track, you know?" Shelby wiggles her fingers at him before strumming the strings once, making them ring in the cold air. Mention of profit draws a second thrum, while she shifts into a more thoughtful look. "I suppose I could. That's..." A quick peek at the guitar case. "Probably enough for some cocoa, right? Doctor's orders and all. Maybe you could write me a prescription and they'd knock off a buck or so," she suggests. "Tell you what - there's a good Chinese place a few blocks from here. I was just going to grab some food in the caf before I have to do more work, but I could use the break. I'll tell them I was with a patient." Iolaus says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "My treat, as long as you agree not to rat me out to my boss, that is. There's no patient-doctor privilege, after all." He puts his hands in his pockets to shield them from the cold, gloves and all. "Sold!" It might have been polite to at least hesitate but the girl is up and sliding off of the mushroom in an instant. The back of her pants end up coated with yellow chalk thanks to the quick exit but she doesn't appear to notice. The guitar is dropped into the case, the latches are snapped shut and then she bounces up before him. Ready to go! "You know, my mom totally hates doctors but you're like, awesome. I promise I won't tell," she swears, sketching a cross over her coat-padded heart. "We're not all bad." Iolaus says, defending his profession lightly, though his smile is in danger of spreading into a grin. "We mean well. I even warm the stethoscope before I put it on people." he says, with a little wink. He beacons the girl before setting off at that same fast pace towards the edge of the park and the streets beyond. "Fuck, I need to dig out my heavier jacket. This one just doesn't cut it." he drawls. "{If I can fucking remember where I put it.}" he adds, in Spanish, under his breath. "The restaurant's not far though, at least." "See? You're one of the good ones," Shelby bubbles, hopping to keep up with him. Her legs take a little while to work out the kinks before she's able to match the pace. "I kinda was wondering why you were in that, it doesn't look nearly enough for the wind, right? That's Spanish, isn't it? I used to speak Spanish but now all I know is like, puta and chupa mi verga and, um. I should probably stop, huh? Just don't get, like, hypothermia or anything, 'cause you're the doctor and I didn't ever take first aid or anything." Iolaus laughs and raises an eyebrow at her, giving her an amused look as he continues walking. "Yes, yes, you remember all the essentials, clearly" he says, with a smile. "Spanish is right. And I'm not that cold - I'm used to it - but, yeah, time to get out the warmer jacket." As they cross the street, he points to a sign hanging off of one of the storefronts that reads, simply, 'San Tung'. "It's just there." he says. The storefront isn't much to go by - it's merely an awning, the sign, and a wooden and glass door that leads to the inside. The inside is much more interesting, visible through the second door after Iolaus holds it open for Shelby. The room is decorated in tones of blue and black, and calligraphy hangs from the walls. There is a well-stocked bar at one corner of the room, though there are no seats in front of it. The maitre d' looks them over before escorting them to a booth near the back. The resturant is not full, but has people sitting at different tables, most in dress shirts and similar work clothes, but a few in suits and jackets. "Ah, that's much better." Iolaus says as he slides into one side of the booth, rubbing his arms. Bravado does for Shelby what her attire cannot. She's careless of any looks she might receive for her appearance-- though not entirely unaware, given the way her nose goes into the air as she sweeps through the door held open for her. Once inside she looks around with bright interest, hugging the guitar case to her chest on the way to the booth. "Man, this place is like, fancy shmancy," she says as she takes the other side of the booth. Peeks are stolen at the nearest diners. The case is slid beneath the table, serving as her foot rest. She continues gaping as she peels those gloves from her hands. "You must come here with people a lot, the dude didn't even blink, huh?" "No, but I was here a few days ago, and so was he." Iolaus says, with a little shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, in this weather, we all look like jacket-bundles." he says, with a smile. He, too, looks around, glancing at the other diners and the decorations. "It's nice, but I don't think it's /too/ fancy, or they wouldn't have let us in. You or I. I've gone to places like that, but I sometimes prefer something less..." he trails off, one hand making a circle in the air as he considers. "Formal." "Oh, good." Shelby's grin return as she gets to the business of shrugging out her jacket-bundle. And hoodie, and scarf. There are layered sweaters underneath that but those she thankfully leaves in place. "I mean, you're really nice, I didn't wanna think this is like something you do all the time. Grabbing girls out of parks and taking them to nice restaurants. If you were creepy like that, I'd have to...you know. Punch you in the nose or something. So, like, can I have a margarita? I love margaritas." Iolaus gives her a look, though whether this is for the suggestion of his girl-grabbing or the request for a margarita is not discernible. "You can't be old enough to be having margaritas." he says, glancing over her face again with a raised eyebrow. "Or I've gotten a lot older than I think, and everyone looks young." A pause. "A /lot/ older. But I suppose you could get a virgin margarita, if you wanted." "I am so," she insists, "I turned twenty-one on the third. But I -guess-, if you don't want to risk it, since you're kind of on duty and all..." Shelby will let that go, for now. But she's quick to flip open the menu to look over other offerings. "It all looks so good, huh? I should let you pick since you've been here before...so what sorta stuff do you do at the hospital? Do you get to poke around in people's brains? I wanted to be, like, a kid doctor when I was little. The babies, you know?" "You can have whatever you want." Iolaus says, with a smile. He opens his menu himself, paging through it carefully as he looks over the offerings. "Oh, yeah? Medicine is a great field to be in. No matter what happens, there'll always be sick people." he taps one of the items on the menu, considering. "I'm a geneticist. I do a lot of work in the lab, which I find a lot cooler than brains. Surgery was boring to me when I had to do it in med school. Too much... mess, and doing the same thing over and over and over and over." he shakes his head. "Yeah, but I sucked at math and that's kind of important so..." Shelby pauses in her perusal of the menu to glance back up at him. That glance is timed to the word "geneticist". "Surgery would be pretty messy," she says, with a careful note of sympathy. "So geneticistism is like...DNA and stuff? Building blocks and all? That's pretty cool. You must be..." She pauses for a beat. "You must be totally swamped right now." "Math isn't as necessary as you think. For some parts of medicine, yeah, but it's mostly biology." Iolaus pauses for a second before he continues, eagerness rising in his tone. "DNA, yeah. DNA, RNA, and how the changes of just a few of them can cause all sorts of different things." Iolaus says. "Or the opposite - a person has condition XYZ - why? Will their kids get it?" he laces his fingers together, smiling. He pauses for a second, curiosity entering in his expression. "Busy? Why?" Shelby listens without losing apparent interest, even if it's questionable on how much of the subject she really understands. But he's won her focus away from the promise of food for the moment. "Oh, well, it's just what's in the news right now, right? You know, all the stuff about...those people. Like the ones they kicked out of that place a couple weeks ago, you know? It's all...DNA and RNA and what's making it happen." She pauses as well, head cocked as she watches for subtle shifts in his expression, for changes to eagerness or curiosity or anything else that might appear. "Do you work with that?" "Ah." Iolaus says, pausing for a moment as he studies his dining companion for several moments before he answers. "Yes, I do, when doctors call me in for my advice." He pauses, hesitating, before he continues. "I'm actually starting my own clinic for that exact purpose. It's still..." he searches for a word again. "Somewhat far off from opening, but I'm working on it." "Yeah? That's pretty cool, your own clinic." To her credit, Shelby did not fidget or squirm during the moments of silence. She keeps her expression the same: attentive, interested, and completely without guile. Her eyes are large enough that when she widens them just a touch, they project innocence well. "It must be crazy, some of the stuff doctors get to see. Like, I saw a dude once that had scales. Like...like a lizard or a dragon or something. Makes you wonder what his parents were smoking when they made him, you know?" She grins. "Whatcha gonna do at your clinic?" "Help take care of them when they get sick - and help them not get sick in the first place, same as any other doctor." Iolaus replies, with a little shrug. "I've seen lots of crazy stuff, but most of it doesn't involve mutants at all. People are plenty complicated before you even add in all of that stuff," he says. He turns as a waiter approaches the two of them. "Hello. What can I get for you?" the waiter asks. Iolaus smiles, as he orders a hot and sour soup and dan dan noodles. "So they're sick?" Shelby might have said more but the waiter has -terrific- timing. She puffs out the breath she'd taken and glances between him and the menu. "Uh. Broccoli beef and extra rice and...um. Spring rolls? Some spring rolls," she says, hurrying to keep the man from waiting for too long. Then the menu is folded and slid to the edge of the table. Now she -is- fidgeting, waiting for him to leave so she can get back to pumping Doctor Geneticist Iolaus for information. Witness her first question: "What's the craziest thing you've seen?" The waiter nods and leaves them. Iolaus does not speak until he has gone. "No, they're not sick, usually. There's nothing wrong about what they are - it's just different. If it affects them negatively, then, sure, that should be treated, but there's nothing innately wrong about it. But they can get sick just like you or I, and they should be able to get the care they need." Despite the polite dinner-volume of his voice, passion rings clear in his words as he speaks the last sentence. It is gone when he continues, chuckling and smiling. "The craziest thing I have ever seen, I doubt would be very interesting to you. It was a virus that one of my professor's had been working on that he was using to deliver medication that will help people's bodies fight off cancer themselves. I felt..." he trails off, nostalgic. "I felt like I was from the 1800s, looking at a computer in wonder. It was incredible." Shelby isn't as quick to smile and chuckle at the story he relates. It's interesting, sure, and she even offers up a quiet, "Huh, like little vaccination needles inside the body? Sweet," but her mind is elsewhere. Distracted, she absently drums a riff on the side of the table. Then, with less grace in conversation-guiding than shown before, she brings things back to the former topic. "Only the weirdo ones really get treated bad though, right? The ones who stick out? I mean, like...you or me, we could be a mutant but looking like we do, we could just...walk into a hospital. The only thing we'd get stuck with is a bill, you know?" "Yes." Iolaus says, giving her a steady look. "It's not that all doctors treat even the obvious mutants badly - I would say a good number of them treat them just as well as I would, and others will get some other doctor to deal with them if they don't want to. But mutants cases can get very complicated, very quickly." He purses his lips, thinking for a moment. "Think of this - a mutant gets into a car accident and gets injured. Nothing to do with his mutation, just a normal thing. But this mutant happens to have skin as strong as steel, yet the accident was strong enough to hurt them. How do we do surgery? How can we give the patient an IV, fluids, medication? Even things that have nothing to do with their mutations can get complicated. That's why I want to open a clinic - so that there can be someone to help solve those kind of problems when they come up, so patients aren't trying to explain what their mutations are to a doctor who has never heard of them before, never dealt with anything similar." "Oh." Shelby's brow has creased as she listens but in the end, she seems to get it. "And so like, you understand? Are...are you a mutant?" It's the natural follow up question but the sort of question that just isn't asked out loud when surrounded by hand-drawn calligraphy and men in button up shirts, with jackets. Thusly, it comes out with some hesitation and many quick glances at those nearby, to be certain no one's eavesdropping. "No, I'm not." Iolaus says, honestly, with a smile. "Though I get that question a lot. But just because I'm not a mutant doesn't mean I can't understand a little bit of what it's like. Discrimination and barriers to access are the same, no matter the reasons for them. If you go back a couple hundred years, my family wouldn't have been able to live in this country and get a job because they were looked down on. In some parts of the country, they might not still, even now." "Really? You're not like black or anything," she says. Ah, ignorance. Shelby slumps back against the high rise of the bench and regards him with pursed lips. "-I- am." She pauses for a beat. "Not black. I mean, like. I can do stuff." This confidence comes very quietly and with some true hesitation at first, another cutting of the eyes towards the diners. "I never thought it'd make it hard for to, like, get taken care of at a hospital though." Iolaus does not particularly look surprised. "It might not, depending on what exactly you can do. And because of how you look, and your age. Both of those are in your favor." he reassures, gently. "And once my clinic opens, then you will always have a place you can go if you get sick. Until then, I'll give you my card. You have problems, you can call me." he says, with a smile. "Alright?" Shelby wrinkles her nose but she seems amused, rather than taken aback by his without a blink reaction. "What, so I'm fucked when I get old? Awesome." Oops. "Uh...sorry. Language. But yeah, sure. If I need stitched back up or whatever, if you're open. You said it'd be awhile though, right? That kinda sucks. I guess it's gonna cost a lot, huh? You should...oh hey! I like, totally met this rich guy the other day and he kinda seemed like he liked to give away money, you know? You should do a fundraiser." "I don't know if that's true. By the time you're old, I hope it's not even an issue anymore. But even if it is, I'm sure I'll still be there, hopefully with my clinic. Even if not, I still will be." Iolaus says, smiling. "Money is hard to get, and, yeah, it costs a lot." He grins. "Oh yeah? Rich people who like to give away money are handy." "Seriously?" She studies him for a few seconds. "You're like really into the do-gooder stuff. That's crazy." Good crazy or bad crazy, Shelby doesn't clarify. Crazy kids and their slang. "It's too bad the assholes are louder, you know? It'd be a lot easier for people like you to get stuff done," she says, chasing a clump of rice around her plate with a spoon and the pad of her thumb. "You're gonna have to spend a lot of money on bars." "Yeah, I hear ya." Iolaus says, a bit of a Boston accent working its way into his words. He pauses, and a slight frown pokes at his face. "Yeah. I've already got a security lead in mind. She can take care of pretty much anything that's thrown at me, or at the clinic. But, yeah. Not going to be cheap, even for a clinic which isn't cheap to start." "That's a good start. Like, someone who knows their stuff. Like the people they get to cover abortion clinics and all." Shelby speaks like the know it all expert of life and then licks a grain of rice from her lips. "And there's some pretty awesome mutants out there. I mean, like, who's gonna come in and shoot up a place where they're gonna get fireballs shot back at them, right? I wish I'd got the fireballs," she says wistfully. "That'd be pretty sweet. Who's gonna mess with you then? You should find someone with fireballs." "My security lead has shields that cut through things. Plus, she was in the Army." Iolaus winces, a little bit, as he leans in. "Honestly, she's a little bit scary." he whispers, lips twisting into a grin. Then he leans back. "What can you do? According to Jane - the security lead - sometimes the things you wouldn't think can keep you safe are better than the things that you thought would." Shelby is chewing again, so she can't laugh at that confession, but her face screws up to give the impression of laughing before she's finished swallowing her mouthful. "That's pretty awesome too. Cutting shields...pew pew." -Now- she snickers, a wheezy sound without much force. The fork is set down and she casts about for a moment before looking at the plate in front of the doctor. The edges are painted decoratively, lotuses swimming with unnatural vines. When her eyes settle on them, they begin to twist and writhe over the porcelain, strangling the flowers beneath a snarl of black and green. "Woah." Iolaus says, looking down at his plate with a child-like glee. "That's /awesome/. How much control do you have over it? Can you make anything you can imagine, or is it only variations on something that's already there? Are you limited in the size of what you can make, or the content? Can you make something without an object there, in mid-air?" he asks, voice a rush of words in his excitement. Woah indeed. Shelby's snickering becomes a full-fledged giggle to see a grown man so bubbly over something that she seems to view as inconsequential. "Oh sure," she says, fighting for nonchalance. "I mean, like, it has to be there but...look." Out comes the pencil again, her plate pushed aside. That gleaming white table cloth? It's about to get marked up. She begins sketching, and no sooner does she finish one than it's flowing away from the pencil's tip in a spill of pale graphite. Horses and dragons and spinning daisies begin a romp around the table, though they remain stuck on the table cloth, just as the plate's decorations do. "Bigger takes more thinking but I'm working on it being in the air. I might be able to figure it out soon." "That's awesome." Iolaus repeats, reverently. He watches the movement of the horses and dragons for a moment before he looks up at her. "Don't think that's not as cool as fireballs? I bet I can think of fifty ways that what you can do is more impressive and more useful than fireballs." For the moment, Shelby appears to have forgotten they're in public. She adds a litter of stick-figure kittens to the romp and the figures continue their play, even when she glances up at him. "Huh? Not really. I mean, I have cartoons whenever I want, sure, but television rots your brain. It's not like I can -use- this. Not if someone comes after me, or for a job, or whatever, you know?" "Not true at all. Jane is always insisting to me that the best defense is no one knowing that you're there, or if they do, that they think you're unimportant. I know if I was chasing after someone and all of a sudden a bunch of police cars showed up, I'd be deterred for long enough for you to get away, even if I eventually figured out they're not real." Iolaus says. "You could make doors vanish behind other things, make computer monitors do strange things and distract people, make things that are locked look open." He pauses, expression going serious for a second. "All of this is hypothetical, of course. Don't actually /do/ any of this. But if the need was there...." "I can't make cop cars show up, it's all flat and..." And...and wait. He appears to have given her all sorts of ideas. Shelby goes thoughtfully quiet and as she thinks, the images slow in their whirlings and spinnings. The kittens take sanctuary from the dragon behind the pitcher of soy sauce, and the horse begins to graze on white linen. "Huh." Uh oh. "Fireballs can only do one ting. You're limited only by your imagination and some creativity." Iolaus continues, slowly. "Just only use your powers for good, yeah?" he says, a smile twinkling on his face. "And only where it's safe to do so. Again, it's better never to even have to use them defensively, if you just are never in a situation where you need to be defended." "Huh?" she repeats, this time inquisitively. "Oh...oh, yeah. Sure." Shelby straightens up and shifts her plate over to cover the field of pale grey daisies. The other figures cease their silliness, and his own plate returns to its previous stillness. Her grin is sudden and absolutely convincing. "I wouldn't ever. I'm one of the good guys too. Like you. I just don't have the plaque yet to prove it, right?" Iolaus gives her a somewhat suspicious look, though it is tinged with humor. "Right." he says, chuckling. "I'm going to be very disappointed if I hear that some dinosaurs robbed a bank tomorrow." he teases, lightly, crossing his arms over his chest. But his arms remain crossed only for a few moments before, grinning, he turns back to his food. "All I'm saying is, don't sell yourself short." "Nah, they can't do anything except to other pictures," Shelby says. Her sigh is exaggerated, in keeping with the teasing tone. "But I could totally make the presidents wink at the waiter when you pay him." There is a matching twinkle in her eyes as she resumes eating. "Maybe blow him kisses. It's not fireballs but it'd be funny, anyway." "You'd make the poor man think he drank too much. Or was losing his mind. And then if he had a heart attack from the stress, it'd be my problem. Why are you trying to make more work for me?" Iolaus says, plaintively, even as mischief flashes in his eyes. Then he turns back to the important business at hand: eating. Om nom nom. Shelby levels her fork at him. "Come on, admit it, you think I'm awesome and hilarious. I can tell." There is some smugness there because, really, she -is- awesome. And hilarious. "I always thought doctors were like, boring and old and stuff. But maybe you skipped that day in class," she adds before scooping up the last of her broccoli, beef and rice combo. Given her appetite, it was a surety that she'd finish first. The last bits of gravy are sopped up with the remaining spring roll. "We should have dessert too, if you have to go back to work. Your brain needs the sugar, I read that somewhere." Iolaus chuckles and waves the waiter over. "Can we have the dessert menu, please? Thanks." he says. "Of course," the waiter says, going to fetch a menu. Iolaus watches him go for several moments, then turns to look back at Shelby and continue eating. "You are awesome and hilarious." he accedes, raising a fork in a gesture of surrender. "We're not all boring. Though, I can be /plenty/ boring, I'm sure, at times." "I knew it." She smugs at him before shrugging at the possibility of boring. "Most people are. I mean, like, not -everyone- can be awesome all the time. Not even me. You went all sparkly over that stuff and that's kind of weird. The DNA and RNA stuff, but it's like...that stuff is boring in books, not when people talk about it. If you were all "yay DNA!" all the time it'd get pretty old. I bet you're not though." Having cleared her plate, she then sits back to happily await the arrival of dessert menus. "Only sometimes," Iolaus says, a bemused smile on his face. "I did spend yearsin a lab researching, and during grad and med school, I'm not sure I talked to many people except about schoolwork. There just wasn't time. And sometimes, I can definitely get caught up in my work." He pauses for a moment, smile cracking wider. "A lot of the time, actually. Maybe you just caught me on a good day." Shelby sees her chance and pounces. "So you're saying the next time you get all stuffy scientist, I'm allowed to come crash on your couch, huh? Since I'm like a good influence." The innocent eyes are back, but this time they're coupled with a grin that maintains the playful tone of the conversation. She spreads her hands. "I mean, all work and stuff...you -did- say age is catching up to you, right? Maybe that's why." Iolaus gives Shelby a look, and he glances up at the ceiling. "Oh, alright." he says, affectionately. "You can crash at my place on the couch. I've got a couple more hours work to do at the lab, but if you want, you could come to the hospital and hang out there. I can put you in my office and you can use the computer while I work." he offers. Score! Shelby lights up and actually does a little victory dance on the bench, pumping her arms to the left, pumping her arms to the right. "Yes! Damn I'm glad you decided to take a walk today! Free internet and everything, that's -awesome-!" After this slew of exclamation points, she returns to sitting as a normal person would but the sparkle hasn't worn off. "I promise not to charge up your work phone with calls to porn lines," she swears, not so solemnly. "You're not helping your case," Iolaus says bemusedly, as the waiter returns with their menus. The doctor opens his to look through it, but his eyes once more skew towards watching the waiter depart. He murmurs something under his breath in another language - Greek, this time - before turning his eyes back to his menu. "Hmm. Decisions, decisions." Shelby slides her menu on over and flips it open. "I said I -wouldn't-...what was that? That wasn't Spanish." But this observation appears to be a distracted one. There are sweets arrayed before her on the page and they are studied with a critical eye. "Sorbet's like ice cream, right? The mango sorbet sounds pretty good." "Greek. My family is Greek on one side and Spanish on the other, so if I wanted to understand my grandparents, I had to learn both." Iolaus says, chuckling. "Family get together's were always a little bit interesting with the language barriers." he says, shaking his head in recollection. His smile fades, though, and his eyes darken for a moment before he is pulled back to the conversation and the darkness vanishes. "Ah. Yeah, it is. I think I'm going to get the fried banana." "Oh yeah?" Her eyes lift briefly, flicking over such things as his hair, his eyes, his features. Then it's back to dessert selection. Not, however, before Shelby catches sight of that slight darkening. The sound she makes deep in her throat may well be an expression of sympathy. "Families can be worse than the loud assholes. Can I have a fried banana too?" "Sure. Get both, or you can have part of mine." Iolaus says with a shrug of one shoulder. He does not respond to her comment about families, but closes his menu and places it on the side of the counter to search for the waiter with his light blue eyes. He looks down at the table, then across to Shelby. "You know what you want?" he asks, even as he gestures for the waiter. "Nah but I'm good at winging it," she responds promptly. "It's all about today, you know?" Shelby follows her blatant misinterpretation with a grin and looking to the approaching waiter. Her menu is tilted so that she can point out the mango sorbet on the page. "And I think we're gonna need extra spoons." Iolaus chuckles. "And a fried banana... and the check, when you get a chance." he says, with a bright flash of a grin at the waiter. The waiter nods and takes their menus, quickly departing for the kitchen to put in their order. "Mango is delicious. I hope they give us some fresh mango to go with it." "It's awesome. Back home I'd go to the market on Saturdays and pick some up. They always had the best stuff down there. You ever have a carambola? They're -amazing-." Shelby slouches in the bench, awaiting the treats. "When you cut them up, they look like stars. You've gotta try it some time." "Never had one." Iolaus says, nodding. "I'll have to try it." he pauses for a moment, studying her. "Where's home?" he asks, after a few moments, his voice slightly soft as if walking across thin ice, or near a mountain prone to avalanche. His eyes search her face, carefully watching. Shelby's eyes flick briefly towards him before cutting towards the restaurant. Where is that waiter? "Florida," she says, easily enough. "Down near Tampa. And 'cuz I know you'll ask, I left because I saw a tree roach big as I was. You wouldn't believe the bugs they've got down there. I bet I can guess where you're from. That's my other mutation." "Take a guess." Iolaus says, crossing his arms over his chest in a challenging manner, even as the waiter approaches to drop off his food. Iolaus gives him a somewhat predatory look as he departs this time, then turns back, smirking, to Shelby. "Dig in," he says, gesturing to the food in front of them. "You're from Boston," she says with conviction. Then it's too the spoons! Shelby takes one in each hand, the left slack as she uses the right to carve up a bite of sorbet and-- blessedly-- fresh mango slices. "Geez, I thought you were gonna bite him or something. You're serious about your desserts, doc." "True, that I am." Iolaus says, with a lilting smile. "Lowell, actually - north of Boston. Old mill town. But close enough." he says, picking up a spoon and taking a piece of fried banana to put into his mouth. "Hm? Oh. No, not the deserts." he says, a little bit of color rising into his cheeks. "Just enjoying the view is all." That was probably the wrong answer to give. Shelby perks up and looks off after the waiter. "Ohhh," she breathes, "so -that's- why you didn't want me to tease him. You should've said! I would've known right off you weren't like an ax murderer trying to get me to your house or something." Never mind that she invited herself. She's busily tracking yon man's progress through the restaurant. "I didn't expect it to come up in conversation," Iolaus says, bemusedly. "'There's this Chinese restaurant around the corner that we can go to, and, by the way, I like the dick?'" he tries out, then shakes his head. "Doesn't flow off of the tongue very well, I think." he says, dryly. "You could've said you wanted to go here 'cuz you had a crush on a waiter, duh. Then I could've made a move on your couch sooner. Geez, doc. You gotta think about this stuff." Because, that's why. Shelby swaps spoons between her hands and goes for some of the banana. "Anyways, it's good news, I won't have to sneak a knife out of your kitchen or anything. That'd suck." Iolaus snickers and shakes his head. "That's a depressing thought. Do you crash on stranger's couches a lot who you trust that little? I'd hope you'd only go with the ones you really trusted not to hurt you." he says, a note of concern in his voice. "And I don't have a /crush/ on the waiter. He wasn't here last week. Good thing, too, since I had a business meeting." he says, chuckling. "Eat your sorbet." he says, glancing at his watch. "I've got to get back to work to move the assays soon." "Man, you really need to get out more," is all Shelby has to say on his concerned lecture. She is all too happy to speed up the eating, scooping up more sorbet. It has the beneficial side effect of preventing her from talking much, though after several quick bites in succession, she's scrunched her face up from a brain freeze. Iolaus chuckles and eats a bit more of the fried banana, until the waiter shows back up again to drop off the check. Iolaus pulls out his wallet and examines the bill before pulling out some cash and tucking it into the check folder. He hesitates for a moment, then he pulls the receipt out to scribble something on the back before replacing it. "Alright." he says, closing it and looking up at Shelby. "Finish up, and we'll go to the hospital." Shelby is busy rubbing the bridge of her nose while payment is being made but she does spy the scribbling. With a snickered, "Score," she scoots out of the bench and bends to fetch out the guitar case. "I hope you gave him a good tip," she says sweetly as she breezes away from the table. "Tip badly and give your number? That's declasse, at best." Iolaus says, following her out of the eatery and out towards the subway. "I am many things, but a bad tipper is not one of them." he drawls, grinning at Shelby as they depart.