Darcy and Lucien Part III

Scene 14: Tuesday evening (Second date, dude!)

Darcy felt slightly better about this date, though more nervous than before. She didn’t really know why she agreed to a second date, besides a slight hope to rekindle old flames. She convinced herself that she wanted to help Lucien as much as she could, that was it.
Lucien, of course, wasn’t nervous at all. He just wondered what they would talk about on this date.
Darcy arrived at Peet’s downtown a few seconds before Lucien, he waved to her as he stepped out of the cab, and they met at the door.
“Hi,” Darcy said nervously.
“Hi,” Lucien replied. Well, shall we?” he said, as they hesitated in the doorway. They moved through the door, and Lucien instinctively put his hand in the small of Darcy’s back. They chose a window seat off to the side, and sat down.
“You’re well, I take it?” Lucien asked as he draped his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down.
“Yes, very well, thank you. And you?” she inquired.
“Never better,” he smiled briefly at her.
They ordered coffee, and at that moment, Lucien looked out the window, squinted, and then frowned.
“What is it?” Darcy asked, looking at him questioningly.
“I’m pretty sure it’s… yeah, it is.” He looked at her apologetically. “We’re being stalked.”
“Stalked?” she smiled and raised her eyebrow. “By whom?”
“You’ll see. See if you can watch the door without them noticing…”
She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder as two men, trying to look inconspicuous and casual in black leather jackets sidled into the shop. She looked back at Lucien, who was watching her.
“Friends of yours?” she asked.
“I’d rather not admit that, but I won’t lie to you,” he said, laughing. Mitch and Eli, keeping their jackets on as they sat at a table halfway across the room nudged each other, pointing and whispering in Lucien and Darcy’s direction.
“FBI spies?” she said.
“Computer geeks,” Lucien said.
“Ah,” she nodded.
“Well,” Lucien said, looking at her. “Let’s try to ignore them…”
This was hard, as they could sense their eyes on them the entire time. Finally, Darcy ventured a solution.
“I’d love to meet them,” she said. Lucien glanced at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” she said. He looked relieved.
“Well, all right then.” They stood up, and Mitch and Eli looked down, pretending to look at the menu, even though they’d been there for twenty minutes already, refusing service from the waitress in case it distracted them from something important.
“Hello,” Lucien said coolly, right over their table.
“Oh! Hello, there,” Mitch said, wrenching his head up. Eli just stared at Darcy.
“Can we help you?” he said. Mitch stepped on his foot. Darcy bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“So, what’s up?” Lucien said.
“Oh, not much,” Mitch said.
“This is Darcy,” Lucien said, cutting through their feigned estrangement. “Are you going to ask her to sit down?” Mitch and Eli immediately jumped up an offered her their chairs. 
“Thank you,” Darcy said.
“Oh, no problem,” Mitch said. “No problem at all.” They sat there staring at Darcy. Lucian, however, was staring at them, amused. Finally, Darcy decided to break the silence.
“So, you’re Mitch?” she said. Mitch threw an uncomfortable glance toward Lucien before answering.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s me.”
“Well, nice to meet you. What do you do? Besides spy on people, that is...” she smiled at him. Lucien laughed.
“Aha!” said Eli at that moment. “He laughed!” he turned to Mitch.
“Did you see that?! He laughed!”
“Yes, I saw,” Mitch said, covering his eyes in mock embarrassment. “I’m sorry, it’s my friend, Eli, he’s disturbed...” he tried to cover for Darcy.
“What?!” Eli demanded. “I’m no more disturbed than you are, I was just pointing out that...”
“Yes, Eli, I saw!!” Mitch said. Darcy and Lucien were looking at each other, trying not to laugh. “Now stop being annoying!”
“Well,” Lucien said, after Mitch and Eli got into a row. “It was nice to see you fellas, but we’ll be off now...” He and Darcy left the two men to their own devices in the coffee shop and headed down the street.
“They’re very, um, charming,” Darcy said.
“No they’re not,” Lucien said with a smile. “They’re complete idiots, especially in the company of beautiful women. Don’t worry about pretending they’re charming...”
“So, what are we going to do now?” Darcy asked.
“No idea,” Lucien shrugged. “What do you want to do?”
“I have no idea what there is to do in this city! All I do is work...” she said, faltering at the end of her sentence as if she’d just realized what a scandalous mess her life was for the first time.
“Well then, Darcy. We need to remedy that,” Lucien said. “This will be your first night ‘on the town.’ What shall I show you first?” he said to himself. He hailed a cab. He opened the door to the cab and let Darcy in first.
“All right, so, you’ve never done anything in this town?” he asked as they pulled away from the curb.
“Not really. I know where everything is, and I’ve been there a few times when I was a reporter...”
“That doesn’t count,” Lucien said. “So, what do you think we should start with?”
“Your favorite place,” she said.
“Ah, but there’s a slight problem there. You’ve already been there.” He said.
“That pond?” she asked.
“Bingo. So, we’ll go to The Gala.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s kind of a cross between a modern art gallery and a restaurant... well, it’s complicated. You’ll see.”
“All right...” Darcy said skeptically.
“You’ll like it, I promise,” Lucien said. He told the driver where to go. Lucien and Darcy didn’t speak during the taxi ride. Darcy thought it best to not ask questions, and Lucien was thinking. When they arrived, Lucien thanked the cab driver, and led Darcy to the Gala. It was in a cozy little part of the city, on a crooked street strewn with whacky little shops, most of which were closed. The Gala itself was interestingly decorated on the outside, painted with bright colors, and studded with chips of glass and pottery. There were statues on either side of the door, and on the outside window ledges.
“Come on,” Lucien said, after he let Darcy take it all in. “It gets better.” She followed him into the restaurant. The light shone yellow out of the doorway as they stepped into the Gala.
“What do you think?” Lucien asked. Darcy looked around. It was the most amazing and weird place she’d ever been. It was as Lucien had said: complicated. It was a restaurant, and a gallery. In one section, a tiny section, there were tall tables and chairs, and in another section, an art gallery. But all the art was, surprisingly, food. Some dried, some fresh. Some sculpture, some pasta mosaic.
“I think it’s wonderful...” Darcy said. She left Lucien’s side to go look more closely at the artwork. Lucien followed her.
“Who does the artwork?” she asked him, leaning over a sculpture of the Eiffel Tower made of Spaghetti.
“Whoever wants to.” he said.
“Really? Anyone?”
“Sure.” He said. “You see this?” he crossed to a little piece.
“Yes,” Darcy said.
“Mitch made it,” Lucien said, laughing.
“Mitch?” Darcy said incredulously.
“Sure. I told him about this place, and he had to try it out. Do you want to make something, or order, or what? The food they serve is not ordinary either.”
“I can imagine.” Darcy said. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” Lucien said.
“Me either.”
“Hmm, wouldn’t want to waste it then,” Lucien said.
“Ok then. Want to make something?”
“Sure.”
They made a miniature sculpture of a violin, under Darcy’s direction.


Scene 15

“How lovely!” Sadie chirped when Darcy told her where they’d gone. “It’s so... hippie! It’s like you’re back to your old self... sort of.”
Darcy still spent lunchtimes at her desk, working. She looked up from her copy notes to look at Sadie.
“Yes, it’s lovely isn’t it? Absolutely. But, I have to work now, Sadie! I’m at work, and at work—“
“You work,” Sadie finished. “I know, I know. The story of your life.” She went back to her desk. Darcy looked desperately from the proofs to Sadie’s retreating back. She put the proofs down and hurried after her.
“What do you mean, my life? I do other things as well...” she said. Sadie smiled. “Don’t I?”
“Look, Darcy,” Sadie said. “Tonight, is girl’s night out. You, me. I’m going to tell you that it’s for work purposes so that you’ll be enticed into meeting me at Peet’s at 7, BUT, it’s really to hear your life story. From me. Ok?”
“But—“ Darcy began.
“What time?” Sadie asked.
“7pm, but...”
“Where?”
“Peet’s... Sadie—“
“Oh! Look at the time! Coffee break’s over, got work to do. See you at 7!”
At Peet’s once again, Darcy noted the Christmas decorations. She was on top of the date, she had to be, but it always seemed to come so quickly, Christmas. Two-thirds of the staff took off for the holidays, but she’d taken to volunteering to stay behind and pick up the slack. She got to write more around the holidays, picking up the slack. She looked at her watch, 7:08. Right on cue, in between “on time” and “fashionably late,” Sadie walked in the door. She smiled coyly at the man behind the counter and the man in line, respectively, bit her finger, twirled her hair, bounced across the room and took her seat, Darcy shaking her head.
“How DO you do it, Sadie?” she asked, as Sadie finished rearranging herself in her seat.
“Do what?” Sadie said.
“All the things you did in between the time you walked in the door and the time you sat down,” Darcy replied.
“Oh I know, I think I snagged a thread and walked a little too heavily, huh?” she said, checking the sides of her sweater. Darcy sighed. “Oh well, who needs to snag those guys anyway?”
“So... Sadie, what are we doing here?” Darcy said.
“Just... keep your shirt on, girly! I’ll explain!” she picked up the menu and looked through the desserts.
“I don’t know how you can eat those and actually keep your figure, Sadie.”
“Oh, honey, I only eat them in public,” Sadie laughed. “To give the impression that I don’t care about my weight even though I look great. I don’t eat anything but carrot sticks and iceberg lettuce at home.” She continued flipping lazily through the caramel laden menu, occasionally flicking her eyes toward the man at the counter.
“Anyway...my shirt’s still on... aannd?” Darcy wheedled.
“All right, all right. So. Life story. Darcy goes to school, falls in love with boy. Makes no move. Works...”
“Hey, I slacked a LOT in high school!” Darcy said defensively.
“But you also worked. Anyway, Darcy graduates. Darcy goes to college. DOESN’T slack... Darcy gets job, followed by another job, followed by another job, followed by current job... still in love with same boy. You’ve just rediscovered the love of your life, you’re DATING him, and you don’t slack at all! You just work, work, work work work! Doesn’t this seem a bit... extreme?”
“No...”
“Why not?!
“Let’s order coffee.”
“What? You were trying to keep me in check and now you’re trying to distract me! Fine, coffee.” She waved to the man behind the counter. He came over.
“At your service, ladies,” he smiled. “What can I get for you?”
“I would like a tall café Americana, please. Black,” Darcy said. Sadie was pretending to be indecisive, flipping through the menu again.
“Ohh, I don’t know, everything has so many calories!”
“You shouldn’t worry about calories, miss,” the man said. “Get what sounds good to you.”
“Well... thank you. Ok then, what... hm. Something cinnamon...”
“We have the new cinnamon Mayan mocha,” he suggested.
“Oh, that sounds lovely. I’ll try it.” She put the menu down.
“What size would you like that in?”
She looked at Darcy, who was examining her fingernails.
“Oh, I don’t... um...What size did you get, Darcy?”
“Tall...” Darcy replied lazily.
“Oh, right. A tall, thank you,” she smiled winningly at the man, who winked back.
“That was perfectly excruciating, Sadie,” Darcy said when he’d gone. Sadie was still eyeing the waiter, as he made the coffees. He looked up every once in a while and caught her eye.
“Oh, it’s just routine, really. He’s perfectly adorable, though,”
“Right,” Darcy said.
“So, right. Business, Darcy,” Sadie wrenched her eyes back to look at Darcy. “Work. Definition: to be employed, esp. as a means of earning one's livelihood.”
“And? I’m glad you’ve read the dictionary, it’s a useful—“
“Livelihood! Livelihood, Darcy, not life.”
“I have a life,”
“In my eyes, no. Will you please listen to me?”
“All right, all right. Give me the gift of life, o goddess of all things coquettish...”
“So. You were in love once, you threw it away, went to college, started working, and haven’t quit since. Am I right in my history briefing?”
“Yes...” Darcy admitted.
“So, you’re in love again, and this time you CAN’T throw it away!”
“I—“ Darcy stopped and sighed. What was so bad with admitting feelings? Oh, that’s right. Rejection.
“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, Darce. You need to concentrate on other parts of your life, be a little selfish.”
Right then the coffee came, delivered by the waiter.
“Here you are, ladies; enjoy.” Sadie laughed.
“When you’re in love, Darcy, nothing else matters,” she said, loud enough for the retreating waiter to hear.
“Yes, it does. If love made the world go around, we wouldn’t need all this other stuff. Everyone loves something or someone, ” Darcy said.
“Yes, but—unfortunately, if no one admits it, which a lot of people – cough cough – have trouble doing, then people only have love, and don’t give it; they don’t receive it. So they invent all this other stuff to comfort them. Coffee. Flowers. Super-successful, monied jobs.” She gave Darcy a pointed look.
“Touché,” Darcy said, swirling her coffee.
“These things are not for replacing love, they are for enhancing it. Think. Which did you like better, the roses you bought for yourself, or the rose Lucien gave you?” Darcy didn’t speak.
“You can say the same word twice in a row, Darce. We’re not in the office,”
“Touché,” Darcy said again.
“Is there a difference in the roses? No.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their coffees.
“How’s your coffee?” Darcy asked.
“Too dark,” Sadie replied.
“After all that work?” Darcy said mockingly. “Let me try.” Sadie slid her drink across the table.
“It’s delicious,” Darcy said.
“Then you’re too dark, Darcy,” Sadie said knowingly.
“What, so because I have a taste for  The waiter delivered their check as they finished. When he came to pick it up, Sadie slid a slip of paper to him along with the check.
“Thanks,” she said, and waved as they walked out the door. Darcy was thinking.
“Have you ever been in love, Sadie?” she asked.
“Oh, loads of times, I suppose...” Sadie replied.
“I see...” Darcy made a mental note to trust Sadie from now on with clothing choices but definitely not life choices.


Scene 16: Third Date, dude...

“I’m sure you’re going to actually get a third date, Lucien,” Mitch said.
“No you’re not,” Lucien quipped. “You’re just hoping it’ll turn out that way.”
“Ok, ok, so maybe I am,” Mitch said.  “But, dude. If you get past this date, we’re into Netherlands, where you stop counting dates!”
“You won’t, I’m sure,” Lucien. He imitated Mitch. “Nineteenth date, dude! We’re in the Netherlands, after this date you can stop counting! If she makes it that far, anyway...”
“She will, dude. She will,” Mitch said. “And that means, we have to be ready.”
“We?” Lucien raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. Let’s go,” Mitch said. He was definitely taking this way too seriously. He headed to Lucien’s computer.
“We must turn to the great dating wisdom of the internet,” Mitch said, going to a site.
“I’m not sure I trust the internet, Mitch...”
“Well, I do, and see where I am...”
“Uhhh.... girlfriendless?”
“On the brink, man. On the brink...”
“Oh... right.”
“Hey! Stuff on third date, Luc!”
“Mmhmmm, and what does the great dating wisdom of the internet say about third dates?” Lucien said. Despite himself, he was actually rather interested in what it had to say.
“It says that this date is the key. Great,” Mitch said. “Don’t blow this one...”
“Well then, how don’t I blow it, exactly?”
“This is the date that will tell you whether she’s really into you or not. So you have to test the waters,” Mitch said. Lucien laughed. “That doesn’t mean, ‘go all out’ on her, just...”
“I have to kiss her? Ew, cooties...” Lucien joked.
“This isn’t funny, man. How many girls have you kissed? Loads... how many were one night stands?”
“Uhh...”
“All, Lucien. All... this is the real thing. Flowers, real dinner, wine, kiss... um...”
“Yeah, I get your point, Mitch, but what if...?” Lucien said.
“There is no what if, dude.”

**** This is where it gets patchy. I haven't concocted all the rest of the story, just bits and pieces. So tell me if the pieces seem like they'll work!****
    ***I'm not so worried about grammar in this part... so if it seems wrong, it is. I just haven't had time to go through and write this section yet****


Third date: dinner, movie. For some reason, it makes Darcy claustrophobic, and they have to leave the theatre. Lucien takes her to the pond again.
“Do you want to swim?” She said.
“What? Here?”
“Yes,” she said, standing up. He immediately stood up, in case she needed an extra balance. “It’s probably not the most sanitary in the world, but it’s probably ok compared to anything else in New York.” She took off her sweater and tossed it on the rock.
“All right then,” Lucien said at the sight of her bare shoulders, needing no further persuasion. He took off his shoes.
“Would you...? Um...” Darcy indicated the back of her dress.
“Sure. No, problem.” Lucien stepped closer, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. He unzipped the dress slowly. She laughed and shyed away.
“What?”
“It tickles,” she said, shimmying the dress off her shoulders, exposing black lace. She suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Don’t worry, I won’t look. If you won’t,” he teased.
“Fair enough, but I don’t believe you.”
“About which end of the deal?” he replied.
“Either,” she said, in prefect seriousness. She placed her dress on top of her sweater and adjusted what was left of what she was wearing. Lucien did find it extremely hard to keep his end of the bargain, and fell through when she dove off the rock into the flickering of the pond. He soon followed, noting that the water was cooler than he expected. He swam to her end of the pond, treading water when he reached her.
“It’s a bit hard now not to look, no?” he said. “Unless we want to talk to each other back to back.”
“I guess,” Darcy said. She started swimming slowly backwards.
“You guess?” Lucien repeated, following.
“Yes, that’s what I said,”
“Then you don’t think it’s as hard for a woman not to look at a man in the nearly nude as it is for a man not to look at a woman dressed so?”
“Maybe,” Darcy said as she felt the wall of the pool behind her. Lucien continued toward her until he was inches away.
He looked her up and down, then looked her in the eye and said softly, “I think you’re right.”
“Of course,” she said, with not nearly as much conviction as she’d meant. He put his hands on her shoulders. They were shaking.
“God, Darcy, you’re shivering!” He wrapped his arms around her to warm her.
“So are you, silly,” she replied. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Good idea.” They swam back to the rock and Lucien lifted Darcy out of the pool. “Besides,” Darcy said, lingering with her feet over the edge for a moment. “What’s the point of a pool with lights if you can’t look?” she winked and stood up.
“Hey—“ Lucien started. He lifted himself up and followed her.  “Cheaters never prosper, you know.”
“Who said that?” she asked rhetorically. “Sorry, could you...? Again?”
“And if I can’t?” he asked, reaching up to the zipper at the back of her dress.
“Then you’d have to cover my back until I get home,” she said.
“Hmm,” he said, pressing himself against her back and slipping his arms around her waist. “Like this?”
“Yep,” she said. “Now zip it—both my dress and your mouth...I’m cold.”
After they’d gathered all their things, they walked back out to the main street and Lucien called a cab.
“Do you want to share, or...?
“Um, sure.”
They got in the cab and closed the door. Darcy shivered again. Lucien put his arms around her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm them.
“34 Park Place,” he said out of habit. “Oh wait, um...”
“I just want to go somewhere warm,” Darcy said sleepily.
“Are you sure?” he said.
“Mmm,”
“Ok, whatever. 34 Park Place.” He repeated. Darcy laid her head on Lucien’s shoulder. They soon arrived at his apartment.
“Well,” Lucien said. He paid the driver and they walked up the steps. “Sorry about the mess...” he said, giving her a heads up.
“It’s all right, I’m sure,”
They entered the apartment, and Lucien flipped on the lights.
“Wow,” Darcy said, walking into the room. Lucien followed her. “This is amazing. It’s so big!”
“Yeah. You really feel it when you’re here alone.” He said. She turned around to look at him.
“I’ll make sure that never happens, then...” she said. “I mean, that I’m never here alone.” She laughed.
“Do you want a drink?” Lucien asked.
“Um, no, thank you. I think I’ve got to go home and take a hot shower...”
“Well, you could... use, mine, if you want...” Lucien offered.
“Oh, um...”
“Oh, right. That’s... sorry. Sorry I mentioned it,”
“It’s all right,” she said.
“I—really?”
“Really. I’ll... need dry clothes, though,” she said.
“Then, you’ll stay?” he said, incredulously. She looked at him for a minute.
“Yes,” she said finally.
“Ok, um... well, here, let me... find you some clothes,” he said, and disappeared into another room. Darcy looked around the apartment from where she was standing. There were newspapers on the coffee table, NYT by the look. The place was fairly empty, as if he wasn’t planning on staying long. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. What was she thinking?
“I must be crazy,” she thought. That stunt at the pond, now agreeing to... stay? What did that entail? She guessed she would figure it out.
Lucien lingered in his bedroom for an extra minute or so, getting his bearings. He hadn’t kissed her so far, which was on Mitch’s list of rules for this date. And now she was staying. If he kissed her now, what would that lead to? Something he didn’t feel they were ready for.
“What are you thinking?” he said to himself. Never a problem before, being intimate with this particular woman didn’t seem right. Like if it happened, then everything would end, like it did every time before. And, for the first time in a long time, he cared about that outcome. He grabbed a t-shirt and boxer shorts from one of his drawers and emerged from his room. Darcy had been contemplating the floor, but looked up when he came up to her.
“I hope these are all right,” he said, holding the clothes out to her. She smiled quickly.
“Yes... thank you,”
“No problem,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Darcy glanced at Lucien, who was looking at the floor, but quickly shifted her gaze when he looked up.
“All right then,” he said awkwardly.
“Um, the shower’s through there,” he continued, pointing to the door he’d just come out of.
“All right...” she said. “Is it, complicated or...? It’s just; you never know how showers are...”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed. “It’s pretty standard. I can show you, if you like.”
“Ok,” she said. He led her into the bathroom.
“So, um, just push this in, adjust this to the temperature you want, then pull this down, you should be ready to go. Basically reverse to stop.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Ok, well, I’ll go now. Take your time,” he smiled and closed the door behind him. Then he felt the numbers begin to snake through his brain. He sat down at the coffee table and began to write some ideas down, scribbling out absurd connections and making up new equations. What he really wanted was a brandy. Or three. But this was definitely not the time. Maybe one, if he offered a drink to Darcy. Sigh, Darcy... This was the most awkward situation he’d been in since high school. He was actually feeling embarrassed, and this was a perfectly normal situation for him. Date, woman in house, hardly any clothes on, etc. He wrote some more notes down, read a section of the newspaper, and then looked up when he heard the door open. Darcy appeared, looking radiant even in his old clothes. She came and sat by him on the couch. He had no idea what to do.
“What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, um. Working, sort of,” he half-smiled. Still no logical reason why she shouldn’t know about the numbers, but he still held back.
“So what is it exactly, that you do?”
“Well, I uh... work out patterns and codes for computer programs. It’s rather hard to explain, even to my co-workers.” He slid the paper over to her. She picked it up and examined it.
“Interesting...” she said, nodding approvingly. He looked at her. She laughed. “I’m joking; I have no idea what to make of this.” She handed it back.
“I suppose I have an easy job, compared to that sort of thing,” she sighed. He began to protest in her defense, but she cut him off.
“I mean, at least people can relate to it, or they think they can. Everyone can speak, therefore everyone can construct sentences and convey a thought to someone else.”
“Not very well,” Lucien offered.
“Perhaps, but better than I could pretend to make computers understand me.” She fell silent.
“Are you warm enough?” Lucien asked.
“Yes, thank you so much, I needed that,” she said. For more than just warming up, she thought to herself. To help clear her head as well...
“Would you, like a drink, or anything?”
“Um, all right. Why not? What is it to be?”
Lucien got up to look. He said over his shoulder,
“All I know is that I’ve got brandy. We’ll see about other substances here... I’m not exactly a bartender.”
“That’s all right. It sounds like a pain-killing bar,” Darcy replied.
“More like a brain-killing bar,” Lucien murmured.
“What?”
“Ah, nothing. Just reading the label on this Arsenic, wondering when it goes bad...”
“I sincerely hope that was a joke,” she said, leaning her head back. “It’s a little too late for me to wrap my head around satire.”
“Really? What time is it, anyway?” Lucien asked. He checked his watch. Two.
“How do you want it?” he asked.
“Straight up will do,” she said, reading his hints to mean that that was how she was going to have it anyway. “Assuming we’re still talking about Arsenic...”
“Good,” he thought. He brought the two brandies to the table.
“Thanks,” she said as he handed one to her.
“Well, cheers,” he said, holding up his glass. She smiled, and his heart did a little flip. Hmmm.
“Salud,” she replied. He washed some of the numbers down with the first drink. Darcy shuddered a little as the fiery liquor went down.
“Sorry,” Lucien said.
“It’s all right. I haven’t done anything straight in quite a while. Haven’t done anything in any form much, lately, in fact.”
He looked at her over the rim of his glass. Lucky, he thought. At least the numbers had subsided, even the tiniest bit.
“Um, so...” he said. “You can have the bed; I’ll sleep on the couch, if that makes you more comfortable.” He didn’t want it to sound like he didn’t want to share the bed; since he, after all, had done the inviting over; but he also didn’t want it to sound like he was too eager for... something else that she might not even be considering. For some reason, Darcy made it so much more complicated. As awful as it sounded, she actually seemed like a real person, unlike the other girls; a person that could be hurt just by a mere insinuation gone wrong.
Darcy tried to read his expression. Whether he was trying to hide it or whether he’d just grown out of letting on to anything, she couldn’t tell what his line of thought was. Or hers, for that matter. Why was she here? She guessed why she’d come and agreed to stay, and it was the same reason she’d stripped to her underwear and swam in the pond. Whatever that reason was. After thinking about it, she decided that she’d gotten carried away, and she was a bit apprehensive about what he’d say. Now the brandy was quickly carrying her back toward her first reckless notions.
“Oh no, that’s all right. It’s your bed, you should take it.”
“There’s no use, Darcy,” Lucien replied. “It’s my house, and you’re the guest. So, I’m using the usual method of punishment by making you sleep in the real bed; for which, even though you’d rather sleep in it, of course, normal social behavior bids you to refuse it until we’ve sufficiently worn out the conversation on the topic and you end up with the bed anyway.” He set his glass down, observing her with an amused look on his face. Darcy was looking at him, completely impressed and dumbfounded. The next thing he knew, she’d placed her lips over his in the most sensual fashion he’d ever felt. In the split second of that moment, there was absolute silence. No noise from traffic, no wind, no numbers. No numbers. Then Darcy pulled away. Everything came back. Darcy looked down.
“I’m...” she whispered. In that moment, to Lucien it seemed like her every movement, every bat of an eyelash, every rise of her breasts, was the biggest movement in the world. His eyes couldn’t get enough. He reached up and lifted her chin. Her green eyes looked accentuated now, more so than before. He had to find out: would she make the numbers disappear again?
“Don’t be,” he whispered. Then he leaned forward and returned the favor. The numbers disappeared again. As they kissed, she rose up on her knees. She placed her hands, cool from the brandy glass, on the sides of his neck. He pulled her closer as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He knew this was wrong; he was going to hurt her somehow. But she was intoxicating, ever so much more than any alcohol. He couldn’t believe what she was doing with her mouth alone, and the feel of her heartbeat against him drove him crazy. Finally, ethical and common sense pulled him away from his physical craving. He ran his hand through his hair, and smiled sheepishly at her. She could not believe what just happened. For the final time that night, she thought:
“What was I thinking?” She held a hand to her head.
“Are you all right?” Lucien asked, concerned.
“Oh... yeah, I’m fine. The brandy... went to my head, I guess.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Do you need--” he started to say. At that moment his phone rang.
“Um, just a sec,” he said apologetically. He answered it as he walked into the kitchen. It was Mitch.
“Hey, are you busy?” Mitch asked.
“Just a bit, yeah,” Lucien replied as quietly as he could, leaning against the counter, facing away from Darcy.
“Dude, why are you whispering? Is she THERE?”
“Yes,”
“Aand? What happened?”
“Nothing, you’re kind of interrupting,” Lucien said.
“Oh, god! Sorry, dude. I’ll call you tomorrow...”
“Yeah. Bye,” Lucien sighed and hung up. Darcy wasn’t able to hear much, but guessed it had been Mitch. He put the phone in his pocket and turned around.
“Um, anyway, do you need a glass of water or something?”
“No, thank you. It’s really... late. I should probably sleep.” She couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“Yeah, all right...”
“Well then,” she said. He nodded, and she walked to the bedroom. “Good night, Lucien.” She said.
“Night, Darcy,”
She closed the door, and leaned her back against it. On the couch, Lucien lay back against the arm and sighed. As Darcy crawled into the bed, Lucien got up, turned the light off, and fell asleep waiting for the numbers to come back.

____In the morning, Darcy awoke to the sun streaming in the window. She got up and dressed herself in her now stiff, but dry, clothes and emerged from the bedroom. Lucien was in the kitchen, brewing coffee. Darcy imagined herself doing this every morning, but shook the thought from her head.
“Good morning,” Lucien said, turning around and noticing her.
“Morning,” she replied smoothing her hair.
“Do you want some coffee?” Lucien reached toward a cupboard and removed two mugs from a shelf.
“Um, sure... thanks.” Darcy said, leaning on the opposite side of the bar counter.
“How’s your head?” he asked, leaning in toward her under the overhead cupboards and sliding her mug to her.
“It’s fine,” she replied. “I’ve never had a hangover before, and last night’s brandy was nothing to what I’ve downed at times.”
“I see,” he said, sipping his coffee. “My kind of girl.”
“Hm,” she sipped her coffee as a response. Wondering what kind of girl she was, Darcy studied Lucien. He seemed the picture of the bachelor with his slept-in clothes, five o’clock shadow and rumpled hair to rival Harry Potter’s; yet something in his eyes told her that he was thinking about more than your average bachelor on a Saturday morning.
“Well, are you hungry? I actually have food...” Lucien said. Darcy smiled at this. Ok, so maybe scratch that last thought.
“Absolutely,” she said.
“Well good. Because I,” Lucien announced, “am the best toast chef in New York City.”
“Really?” Darcy said, tilting her head.
“Well, I can’t prove that, but we’ll let you decide,” he winked. He pulled down a loaf of bakery bread and sliced four thick wedges.
“Hmmm, bakery bread,” Darcy said. “Good start.”
“I know...” Lucien then retrieved cinnamon and nutmeg from the cupboard above his head. He buttered the slices on both sides, covered them with the spices, and then put them in the oven. He set his watch. When he looked up at Darcy, she was shaking her head.
“You are amazing, I must hand it to you,” she said. He grabbed his coffee and slid into the bar stool next to her.
“I try,” he said.
“No you don’t,” Darcy replied. “It’s just, effortless... I envy you.”

____A while after Darcy had gone, Mitch called.
“Sooo,” he said casually.
“Sooo,” Lucien replied.
“What happened, dude? Did she spend the night? Did you,”
“Give her flowers? Yes. Take her to a nice place with wine? Yes. Kiss?” he paused.
“I hate you! Just tell me!”
“You’ll never believe this...”
“I’ll believe anything,” Mitch said. “But don’t take advantage of that; I won’t believe in aliens or anything.”
“Not today,”
“Ok, ok! I believe in aliens!!! Just tell me already!”
“Well, it started out...” Lucien related nearly the whole night to Mitch.









END: Lucien sighed as he gathered up his luggage from the bin overhead. He wanted this transfer badly, but he had unfinished business with Darcy. Maybe he could buzz over while he was in Seattle. It wasn’t that far, was it? He wondered as he walked out of the tube and into the airport.
Darcy and Izzy sat in the uncomfortable waiting chairs. Their flight from Chicago to New York had been delayed an hour.
“D’you want a coffee or something?” Izzy asked, standing up.
“Sure,” Darcy replied, looking out the window.
“Are you all right?” Izzy said, looking at her concernedly. Darcy snapped into reality.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, nothing a latte can’t cure,” she forced her lips into a smile. Izzy seemed satisfied and wandered off to the nearest coffee shop. Her eyes swept the airport momentarily, taking in the scene. She did a double take as her gaze passed over a weary looking man sitting inside a coffee shop down a ways. Her mind suddenly went blank and crazy at the same time. She half stood up, supporting herself on the chair arm, then sat back. Without thinking, she started walking to the shop, everything seemed like a dream, or a trance. She opened the glass door of the shop, ignoring the greeting from the girl behind the counter. As she neared the table, Lucien looked up briefly from The New York Times he was reading. The paper slipped out of his hands onto the floor.
“D-Darcy,” he managed, ducking behind the table to retrieve it.
“Lucien,” Darcy breathed, faintly. She sank into the chair opposite him as her knees finally gave way.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
“I- er, Izzy and I, we’re… going back to New York,” she said. “And you, you’re?”
“Transferring. Seattle,” he finished. He was looking at Darcy in a way that he’d never looked at her before. It made her breath grow short and her hands fidget.
“Izzy?” he said, now frowning slightly.
“Yes,” she said quickly. “He’s gone to get coffee, but,”
“So you’re with him?”
“Technically, but we’re just-“
“You should get back-“
“JUST traveling to New York, Lucien,” Darcy said a little louder. “Work, you know,” She looked down at her hands.
“He won’t miss you if you don’t go back?”
“I don’t care,” she said quietly, still looking at her hands. Then she covered her face with them, a sudden bout of silent tears coming, pouring out with everything she’d meant to say before. Lucien looked taken aback.
“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t… Izzy, he, it’s not like… I’ve...you... for ten years, and you… I couldn’t tell you... I can’t tell you…” she tried. Lucien hesitated, then reached up. He gently took her hands from her face. She looked up, hoping, wishing that he understood.
“Ten years?” he whispered, still holding her hands, unbelieving. She hesitated, then tears glistened on her eyelashes as she nodded, ever so slightly. He searched her face, seeing her in a new light. He let go of her left hand and placed his hand on her cheek. She stopped breathing. He leaned across the table, ever so slowly, and in the next moment, their lips met.
Across the hall, Izzy was standing with the two coffees. He’d seen the whole scene. He’d come back from the coffee shop to find Darcy gone. He soon found her, talking with that man, Lucien. Not just talking, however. He resigned himself to the fact that it would never have worked between he and Darcy anyway; he knew that she’d always loved Lucien, and, deep down, that she always would. However hard he tried, he couldn’t change that.
Lucien felt as if his brain was going berserk, so many emotions all at once after nine years. He could not fathom how a kiss could change so much, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Darcy pulled away as a voice over the intercom announced her flight boarding call. She looked as if she were about to say something, but shook her head and left the coffee shop, looking completely distressed and distracted. Lucien got up, and made to go after her, but then thought better of it. In a daze, he grabbed his jacket and carry-on and left the shop, heading toward his own gate.
As Darcy approached Izzy, he eyed her coolly.
“Izzy,” she began. But what could she say?
“Good bye, Darcy,” he said, handing her her plane tickets and her carry-on. He smiled, a brief, resigned smile, then he turned and headed toward the gate. Darcy whirled around to look for Lucien. He was not in the shop. Her eyes swept the multitude of people, hoping to find him. Then she spotted him, and pushed through the mob to reach him. She slowed at about fifteen feet from him. He was reading a flight announcement board, from his profile she could see his lips moving.
“New York, New York, New York,” they said, soundlessly. He seemed to sense someone watching him, and he turned to look at Darcy.
“You’re not…” he said. She shook her head. She moved forward slowly.
“You’re coming home with me?” he asked. She nodded.