Path of the Vampire forum

Sai’s text message arrived after she did, some complication of texting from the elevator, not that Aaron noticed, his phone pressed into the left pocket of his trousers the moment he saw her. He smiled, too much, he thought, and cast his gaze at the ground, hand already on the car door to pull it open for the woman who, if he was not mistaken, had gained a few inches of height since he had last seen her. Sai pressed her lips to his cheek in a quick kiss, and the Italian in him knew he had missed an opportunity.

“You look nice,” he remarked, after taking up the driver’s seat and pulling the door closed.

Aaron wrapped the fingers of his left hand about the wheel and sat for a moment, taking a few long-seconds to gather his thoughts. His heart was pounding, ridiculous, he knew, but couldn’t shake the nerves that overwhelmed him all of the sudden. “Keys,” he said then, and half-laughed to himself, pinching the car key between finger and thumb before turning it.

The patrol car gave a rumble and then purred, starting with ease. The lights came on automatically and, as he pulled away from the curb, Aaron stole a glance at Sai, wearing an easy smile. “I hope you like Italian food,” he said. “You’re wearing the perfect colour for Italian food.” He laughed then. “Me on the other hand.” Aaron gestured to the white of his shirt with a swollen finger, “I better steer clear of the spaghetti.”

They drove through the south-side and were in Wickbridge a good twenty minutes later. Aaron kept the smalltalk on the way there light and easy, asking about Sai’s day and whether or not she had any plans for the rest of her weekend. He boasted a lazy day in front of the television catching up on sports games he had recorded and never gotten around to watching, baseball mostly, with the odd game of basketball added to the mix.

It was only natural for Aaron to gravitate to the topic of sports and his love of it. Naturally, he ended up admitting that he played for one of the local basketball teams. “Indoors of course. I can’t wait for a bit of sun so we can take practice outside again. You’re almost tall enough in those shoes to join the team.” He teased.

The restaurant was quiet and looked modest found outside, the inside just as homely. Dark furniture was accented with warm, glowing red candles and chocolate coloured, wooden table-tops dressed with white tablecloths. Small forgotten plants added a splash of green here and there in the corners and, atop the table they were led to, was a single red rose in a clear, narrow vase.

Aaron pulled out a chair for Sai and sat across from her once she was settled. He flattened a blood-red napkin across his lap and looked up at the waiter who had previously introduced himself as Vincent. “Can I get you any drinks to start?” Vincent asked as he placed down a menu for them each.

Aaron looked across at Sai. He waited for her to order whatever she liked. “La Fin du Monde,” he said, for himself, an inexpensive but popular beer this side of the world, “and some water for the table.”

“Of course.” The waiter nodded, and whipped away to fetch their drinks.

Aaron fidgeted with his keys before placing them down on his wallet, an old, brown leather sleeve that looked as if it had served as faithful sidekick for the last fifteen year. It sat atop his phone which lay face-down, the case of which looked about as cared for as the leather of his wallet. He wanted to get to know her, but without being so overt about it. “Your accent is American?” He asked, quite sure it was not Canadian, “I’m guessing you didn’t grown up around here?”

He knew the menu inside out, but made a point of opening it, if just to busy his gaze every now and then.

His smile suited him, one that brightened his features and made her heart do a little fluttering thing she had trouble identifying at first. She looked away at the same time he did, their eyes finding the same spot on the sidewalk as a hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Her smile held true and a hint of pink seeped into the apples of her cheeks at his compliment, “Thank you. You clean up pretty good yourself,” she said, bringing her eyes up to offer him a wink as she gracefully dropped herself into the front seat of the car.

She let her bag sit at her feet and pressed her knees together, turned slightly toward him in her seat. She noted his pause but didn’t point it out for her nerves were just as prevalent as his, or so it felt to her.

“Yeah, keys would be good. I’d tell you that I could just hot wire it for you but that’s probably not the kind of thing you tell a cop,” she teased, light and playful. She’d had a few rebellious years as a teen and learned a few skills along the way, none of which her father knew anything about.

“I do, yeah. This carb queen loves some pasta,” she quipped, “I haven’t found anything good for Italian since moving here though so I’m unnaturally excited that you chose that,” she continued, “Also, I won’t judge you if you get spaghetti on your shirt. I don’t really find the need for first dates to be awkward or for things like that to make people feel silly,” she finished with a nonchalant shrug.

The small talk came just as easy to her and after a few minutes, her nerves dissipated and she found the conversation pleasant and effortless. Her eyes lit up when the topic switched to sports and she laughed when he teased her about joining his team without knowing her history, “Actually, I played in high school. Basketball and swimming were my loves,” she admitted, letting the topic carry them for the remainder of the ride.

The decor of the restaurant was warm and inviting, not too fancy for which she was thankful. She reached for the chair at the same time Aaron did though she let unexpected chivalry win and allowed him to pull it out for her, bag sat once again at her feet, well hidden under the table, “Thank you,” she said, impressed. She crossed her legs beneath it and sat straight if not slightly forward as she flicked her gaze up to and offered a kind smile to the waiter as he sat the menu before her, “A glass of moscato, please,” she answered before stealing a glance at Aaron while he voiced his request, his attention on Vincent.

She let her eyes fall to the menu just in time but looked back up at him to address his question, “It is American, yes, more so than it used to be. I grew up between Hawaii and California though it’s been said that I’d picked up a little bit of my mom’s manner of speaking on certain words when I was younger,” she’d just finished saying when Vincent was back with their drinks. He asked if they wanted a moment to look over the selections and Sai nodded before Aaron had a chance to reply, “Please,” she said and the man took his leave once more.

“What about you? I’d guess you’re not from here either and I’d also guess either New England somewhere or New York,” she half informed, half asked, her gaze set on his face to subtly study his features upon hearing her accusation as she picked up her glass, small smile lost to its rim as she took a sip.

Sai had somewhat put his mind as ease about ordering spaghetti, not that he was prone to making a mess of himself really. It was a simple dish that, done well, usually helped him make his mind up about an Italian place.

“Hawaii,” he echoed, “that’s really cool. I’ve never been, but all the pictures I’ve seen make it look really beautiful.”

Aaron chanced another glance down at the menu before looking across at Sai again. He was starting to feel like a bit of a fool, but couldn’t help his smile. She was stunning and, for some strange reason, she had said yes to going on a date with him. “Fuckoutahea.” He teased, his voice a little deeper than normal, “How did you guess?” He asked, before agreeing, “Brooklyn, south-side” Aaron told Sai, “Sunset Park actually.”

He closed the menu, knowing exactly what he wanted. Aaron took a sip of the beer straight from the neck of the bottle, bypassing the chilled glass that had been delivered with it. “You know I lived in California for a couple of summers.” He smiled. “You’ll never ******* guess what I did there.”

Mentally, he kicked himself for swearing, he wasn’t a potty-mouth, it was just the New Yorker in him. Aaron leaned back in his chair. Was he smug? Maybe, or just quite sure he would win this game. “No way you can guess.”

Sai nodded with her lips still pressed to the rim of her glass. Pace yourself, she thought, drunk on the first date would leave a hell of an impression and besides stealing bites from various pastries, she hadn’t eaten that day.

“It is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I’m hoping to visit soon; it’s been too long,” she said, a hint of nostalgia in her tone.

She couldn’t help but laugh and shrugged, “I’m very good with accents, language, that kind of thing,” she admitted.

California, eh? Another thing they had in common that she did not see coming, “Did you really? I liked it there but it was really… uppity. At least where I lived,” she continued, narrowing warm chocolate eyes on his face as if sizing him up in reference to his challenge.

“As for what you did there… hm.” She paused, sat forward on her elbows and cradled her chin on the top of the backs of laced-together fingers, “Stripper in a cop uniform,” she eventually said, succinct even if she was in no way serious. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she couldn’t help the wry grin that pulled at her lips as she leaned back as well, helping herself to another draw from her wine.

Aaron had been taking a sip of beer from the bottle as Sai gave her reply, seeing to it that he almost snorted the beer instead. He put the bottle down, leaned back and was forced to kill a smile in order to swallow the liquid still in his mouth before a bout of laughter half burst from him, reined in a split second later. “To be honest, I’m wholeheartedly convinced that's what all girls imagine when they see a man in uniform.” He teased.

A slow shake of his head marked his mild amusement, but before he could say anything more, they were interrupted again by the waiter, Vincent. “Do you know what you’d like?” He asked the pair.

“Spaghetti for me,” Aaron answered first, and stole a quick glance at the bar while Sai decided what she was having.

“Can I get you anymore drinks?” Vincent asked.

“Why don’t you bring us the rest of that Moscato,” Aaron said, and gestured to Sai’s glass. There was probably only a glass and a half left in the bottle, no trouble for her, he thought, if past dates throughout his life were anything to go by.

“Right away,” Vincent agreed, and left the table with their order jotted down on his little notepad.

Aaron looked across at Sai and smiled. “I actually trained as a tattoo artist while I was staying in California. Always liked doodling on my books at school, but I have no professional training when it comes to art,” he admitted.

“You’re not wrong,” she said through a smirk, “Though I’m not sure if we think that’s actually true or if we just wish it were,” she added, with a wink just before Vincent reappeared. Good timing, too, as it kept her mind from wandering too far into the realm of Aaron in uniform… or out of it.

Her order mirrored his, “The same for me, please,” she said with a thankful smile as she handed her menu to him. A curious brow rose over an eye and she watched him for a moment until the waiter left, “Uh oh, the whole bottle? You’ll think me a lush,” she said, though she raised her glass to him in a mock toast all the same, taking a sip a second later.

She couldn’t swallow the mouthful of wine fast enough as she listened to him talk of his tattoo apprenticeship. Dark eyes rounded giving away her excitement though she did her best to contain it in her tone, “You did?! That’s amazing. Does that mean you have tattoos yourself or did you just do them on other people? And why would you stop? That sounds like a really fulfilling career as far as doing something that speaks to your soul,” she said, leaning forward again with her forearms resting against the edge of the table, “I’m alright at art forms like that but my creativity comes out in cake usually,” she added.

Vincent silently dropped off the rest of the moscato, refilled Sai’s glass and set down a clean, empty one just in case Aaron was interested. She thanked him with a nod and turned her attention back to Aaron, glass untouched for now and until food came to accompany the warmth in her cheeks the wine was just beginning to spur.

“Oh God no.” He laughed, “they didn’t let me tattoo anyone. I did most of the designs and stencils. I mean, I did the odd small tattoo for people, touch-ups, but nothing substantial,” he explained. As for any mention of his own tattoos, Aaron thought it best to keep them under wraps. “One or two,” he said, when questioned, and left it at that.

“So, be lush,” he encouraged, “sounds like you work too hard anyway. I mean, I can understand going in on a Saturday, but Sunday must be torture. When do you get any time to yourself?” He asked. “I couldn’t imagine working every single day like that. There are weeks when we have to, especially with any undercover work I’ve done in the past, but I would miss the downtime, exercise, socializing.”

Aaron rambled on for a bit, not sure if it was the beer or the excitement of getting to know Sai that made him so chatty all of the sudden. Soon enough the beer was gone, and though he protested the idea of a second drink, especially on account that he was driving tonight, the patrol car nonetheless, he poured himself half a glass of wine and knew he would be all right to drive as long as he finished dinner.

“You know, if I had known we were both going to order spaghetti, I would have offered to cook for you tonight, it's about the only decent meal I know how to make.”

“One or two, eh?” she echoed, eyeing him with a hint of skepticism she kept mostly to herself, “I don’t have any but it’s on my list of things to do someday. I just have to, you know, not be a chicken,” she explained through a chuckle.

She flicked her attention to the full glass that just sat there, staring at her and waiting to be drunk. Her resolve held, however, and she let it sit while she spoke. “They say that when you do something you love, you’ll never work a day in your life, yeah?” she said with a warm smile, “The weekends are always busiest in my line of work but I choose to work them given I own the place. I can take off whenever I want to within reason and orders allowing but usually, I’ll take the slow days off: Monday or Tuesday. I don’t mind it, my social calendar isn’t exactly bursting at the seams so it fills my time and gives me purpose,” she explained, finally caving and taking up her glass. Before she could bring it to her lips, though, their food had arrived and she sat it back down to thank Vincent instead.

“And you cook, too?” she mused, “I feel like you must have profiled me in some way,” she teased, unrolling her silverware from the matching red napkin to the one Aaron had already draped across his lap. She did the same but paused there, two forks and a knife sat neatly beside the steaming bowl of pasta, “You can just show me your skills next time,” she said simply, yet another smile lost to the rim of her glass after it finally made it to her lips.

“I guess that’s true,” he agreed, regarding her work. Sai was passionate about her craft and it came through in her baking. “I suppose I am just passionate about other things,” he said, like being a couch potato on a Sunday morning, Aaron thought to himself. If only sitting on one’s backside was an Olympic Sport.

“Profiled you?” He chuckled at that, “I try not to look into the people I’m interested in, besides, its frowned upon at work.” He winked. “I could get in trouble for wasting time and resources, or abusing privilege.”

Once their meals arrived, Aaron fixed his napkin and took up a fork. “Fresh parmesan for you, sir?” Vincent asked.

“Load ‘er up.” Aaron smiled. He added a bit of cracked pepper to the helping of spaghetti on his plate while Vincent then tended to Sai. Aaron twisted his fork in the pasta at the edge of his plate and paused.

“Enjoy,” Vincent said, before disappearing behind the bar again.

“Smells good.” Aaron grinned and lifted a forkful of pasta to his mouth.

The wine was well matched with the meal, which went down a treat. So far, so good, Aaron thought, his nerves eased considerably in Sai’s presence. He found, all of the sudden, that he dreaded the idea of the evening ending. “Well next time you feel like spaghetti,” he said, smiling like a fool, “I’ll have to put my money where my mouth is and get cooking.”

“That’s more than fair,” she conceded when he mentioned finding passion in things outside of work, “Plus it’s a little different when you work for yourself. No one will ever love or care for your business the way that you do, so if you want to see success, you gotta work your tail off to make it happen ‘cause no one will be doing it for you.”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, “so you just naturally tick all kinds of boxes you knew nothing about,” she said, with a nod and pursed lips, amused. “That’s actually more impressive than if you’d researched it,” she admitted, nodding up toward Vincent as he offered to enhance her dish as well. She didn’t speak but held up a hand when he’d added enough and took up her fork in her left hand, carefully twirling a few strands of pasta around the tines, “cheers,” she exclaimed, before taking her first bite with a little more care than she might have if she were alone.

“Delicious,” she said, taking a small sip of her wine to experience the pairing, “I forgot to ask if you’ve been here before but I’m going to go ahead and assume you have,” she finished, helping herself to another bite after she did.

“Maybe I’ll feel like spaghetti again tomorrow; you just never know,” she retorted, letting her eyes fall from the man’s face to her plate though her lips formed a smile around her fork for a third tasting before she set it down.

She rested her right arm on the point of her elbow, something she’d been scolded for many times in the course of her upbringing but the lesson never seemed to stick. She held her glass from above the rim and swirled the fragrant wine around its belly as she thought in the brief pause between her statement and his reply; when was the last time she had such pleasant, or better yet, such easy conversation with someone? It had been an age, she mused, and it was refreshing. Sometimes one doesn’t know something is missing until it’s found and as closed off as Sai had tried to keep herself, it was during the course of this evening she realized how nice it was to find someone to connect with.

“Cheers,” he echoed, glass chinked against the edge of her own before Aaron took another drink. “I come here from time to time,” he agreed, “it's one of the better Italian places in the city. I would say I probably visit your little shop a bit more frequently,” he added. Once a week he had stopped by for coffee in the beginning, almost a year on, it seemed he was by every other day to pick up something. Perhaps not that bad, but lately he had found himself making excuses to stop by.

Aaron paused mid-chew as Sai suggested she might be up for pasta a second night in a row at his comment regarding cooking a meal for her. He watched her for a moment, as if to measure the woman’s sincerity and, finding her genuine, just shook his head and smiled. “You won’t want this two nights in a row,” he suggested, while contemplating what else he could possibly cook for her. “What are some other dishes you enjoy?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice,” she admitted, “I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the extra visits,” she said, exchanging her glass for her fork again. She ate slowly and quietly as she listened to him, amused that he thought she was genuinely asking after more pasta.

“Maybe it’s not so much the spaghetti I’m interested in two nights in a row, hm?” she said, making a grab for her napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth before she sat back slightly in her chair.

“I wouldn’t mind cooking for you sometime outside of the times you’ve paid me to do so,” she said, “and as for other things I like? I’m half Filipino and have Polynesian roots so anything with an ethnic flare: authentic Asian or traditional Hawaiian dishes tend to be the things I gravitate toward though because that’s what I grew up with but I’m by far one of the least picky people you’ll find. And, admittedly, easily impressed,” she said through a low laugh.

“What about you? Name some favorites.”

“Well I’m a bit of a mutt.” He smiled, in regards to explaining his heritage, even if he was still stuck on the obvious flirting on Sai’s part. “American-Italian on dad’s side, a bit of Scandinavian and a pinch of French on mom’s,” Aaron explained. “As for food, i’ll eat just about anything, at least, I’ve not come across anything I’ve found hard to stomach in my thirty-three years on this Earth.”

His food disappeared between moments of conversation, and soon the meal was done. Aaron wasn’t quite as polite about eating as Sai, but he had made an effort to match her pace. “I was going to suggest dessert,” he said, before Vincent could pounce on them to offer it, “but nothing here would stand up against your sweet sensations.” Aaron smiled at the little play on words.

Vincent came back some time later to clear their plates from the table, and just as Aaron had expected, offered to bring out the desserts menu. “Not for us, thank you,” Aaron said, “that spaghetti was fantastic.”

“Grazie,” Vincent thanked him, “I’ll let the chef know you enjoyed it.”

Aaron got his wallet to settle the bill when a little old woman approached the table. Her skin was wrinkled and olive, eyes dark, hair grey and tied back off her face. “You like the pasta?” She asked, her hand rested on Aaron’s left shoulder as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Molto,” Aaron replied, pressing a second kiss to her opposite cheek before flashing Sai a look that seemed to suggest he spoke very little Italian and could be in trouble here if the old woman believed otherwise.

“Oh, such a good boy.” She smiled and held his cheek in her palm, patting his face lightly. “Grazie,” she said, “Sono Carlotta.”

“Lovely food, Carlotta.” Aaron smiled.

Carlotta was patting his shoulder now and smiling at Sai. “Così bello,” she said to Sai, as she pulled Aaron’s cheek against her bust, the man’s cheeks dusted red all of the sudden. Help his look seemed to suggest.

Aaron laughed when Carlotta pressed a kiss to his temple and tousled his hair. “You come back again soon,” she told him, “and bring your beautiful wife. Bring your children.”

“I will, I will,” he agreed, rather than try to explain.

Carlotta shuffled off back to the kitchen and Aaron got up from his chair to pay, wiping a tear borne of amusement from his cheek. “That was something else.” He chuckled, and went with Sai to the bar to pay.

Outside he got the door for her. He rounded the car and lowered himself into the driver’s seat, choosing just to sit there for a time in comfortable silence before he spoke again. “Thank you for your company tonight, I had a really nice time.”

“I’m a mutt on my dad’s side. I don’t even know what he’s made up of so I just identify as half Filipino, half American; easier that way” she said with a shrug, “It’s good you’re not picky either. You’ll have to try some of my family’s traditional fare some time. The recipes always make enough to feed an army and most often, it’s just me or just myself and Tala.”

There was no way she was making it through the mountain of pasta her plate still held and she gave up about half way through, gladly taking the box Vincent offered on his most recent visit to their table. As she was carefully sweeping the rest of her meal into the container and with her attention set on not spilling it all over the front of her, she went on to comment, “that’s kind of you to say. If you’d like something for your sweet tooth to save for later, we can stop by the shop on the way back,” she offered.

She’d just closed the lid and set her cleaned plate aside when Carlotta appeared. Her eyes darted from her to Aaron and back again, momentarily confused; did he know her? The answer came as a resounding no as soon as his face was nearly consumed by her bosom and to keep from laughing, Sai brought a hand up to hide the bemused grin behind it. Her expression was emphatically apologetic though there was nothing she could do to help him out of that situation without insulting the overly kind woman that seemed so appreciative of his compliment.

She couldn’t contain the chuckle that escaped when Carlotta confused her for Aaron’s wife but she didn’t waste the opportunity to play along, “We will definitely be back,” she informed the woman, “my husband appreciates the kindness you’ve shown us by coming to say hello. I think you’ve got customers for life,” she went on to say, sure to shoot Aaron a playful wink from across the table.

She gathered her bag and the box of food after she rose from her seat, still chuckling as they approached the bar, “sure was. I think she liked ya.” She teased, bumping her arm against his good one, “Hm.. I wonder how many kids we’ve got,” she said with laugh as she made her way through the held door.

“Thank you,” she said when he opened the car door for a second time and after she settled in but it wasn’t only that she was thanking him for, “for getting the door and for a lovely evening. It’s been refreshing and has gone by far too fast,” she said, smiling gently as she let them fall back into the same comfortable silence that had consumed them just moments before.