The Dating of Madeline

[ifwebefriends]

Robin was in the Loft at seven, per his words. He was dressed casually, his lanky form in jeans, his favorite pair of very battered sneakers, and a button-up blue shirt that had likely cost some ridiculous amount of cash at some trendy boutique or another. To his credit, it must be admitted that he had combed his hair

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[maddyandnine]

The Door creaks open and Maddy steps in, taking a quick look around to see who all might be there. The room appears blessedly clear of anyone other than Robin, and so with a relieved sigh she continues in. Dressed casually in a white button down oxford shirt and a knee length purple skirt, Maddy brushes her hair behind one ear to reveal dark grey metal hoop earrings, and waits for Robin to finish up on the phone.

[ifwebefriends]

Robin looked up, saw Maddy, and stopped talking.

With Robin, one really never knew how genuine his reactions were at any given moment. It was possible that the stunned look on his face-- that of a man presented with the sight of a lovely creature-- was simply another bit of the nigh-endless aura of congenial bullshit that followed Robin about. But if it wasn't genuine, then it must be admitted he did a convincing impression.

"Madeline," he said, and promptly hit the 'end' button on his cell phone, cutting off whoever it was mid-call.

"That--" he put the phone away, "--is a marvelous color on you, Madeline."

[maddyandnine]

She'd looked away with pink cheeks, but looks back up with a smile, and what seems like a rather inadvertent small curtsy.

"Th-thank you. Um, I hope I'm not overdressed?" A motion in the general direction of the jeans and sneakers.

[ifwebefriends]

Robin grins, pleased, when he sees her little curtsy, and answers with a flourishing little bow of his own.

"The lady, Madeline, is never overdressed. Or under. If there is any disparity of wardrobe, it is always the man's fault. Remember that," he said with a wink.

"As it is--" he airily offered her his arm, "--you will simply look like you're too good for me. Which is probably true."

[maddyandnine]

"The best? What about free will, the ability to reason, use tools, our amazing capacity for love, for art, for hatred?" She stirs her mocha, spoon clinking up against the porcelain with each circuit.

[ifwebefriends]

"Pshhh and twiddle," Robin says, dumping a packet of sugar after the creamers. "Exactly how will you create all those masterpieces of art if you can't hold the paintbrush! Or wage the hideous wars if you can't hold the gun! Or enact the entire Kama Sutra if you can't hold a-- well. No, no, it's the thumbs, trust me."

[maddyandnine]

Maddy contemplates her own thumbs briefly, wagging one and then the other.

"OK, I'll give you that one. It would make all of those things exceedingly difficult, even that last thing that I am not going to ask for clarification on."

[ifwebefriends]

Robin grins with his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're not? But I was only going to say, if you can't hold a copy of the book."

Liar.

[ifwebefriends]

Robin tsks, releasing her wrist. He laces his fingers on the table before him, and stares at Maddy for a moment, his bright blue eyes sharp.

After several seconds have ticked by he says crisply, "If you think I could be dating more beautiful, more glamorous women," he says after a moment, "you are of course correct. There's a blonde four tables behind me who has an incredible figure and a rather Marilyn Monroe thing going on which is a pleasure in its retro-nostalgia, for starters."

All of this said matter-of-factly. Then Robin tilts his head at Maddy and says in gentler tones, "But I am not sitting with her. I am sitting with you. And I do not think that her eyes light up with the same really very marvelous glow when used bookshops are discussed, and I do not think she would delight me with her passion over a first edition of anything, and I do not think she is going to allow me the opportunity to watch her play lacrosse, and I am not wanting a kiss from her."

[maddyandnine]

Her eyes of course go to glance over his shoulder, at the attractive woman who is indeed sitting a few tables away looking very Monroe-like.

They snap back to him at his next words, her gaze wide with what might be surprise. And Maddy says the first thing that pops into her head.

"I--I'm sure she would invite you to her lacrosse game if she played..." Because otherwise it likely would have been accepting his offer, and Maddy wants to catch her breath first.

[ifwebefriends]

Robin chuckles softly, and leans back in his chair, picking up his tea to have a drink from it.

"But she doesn't. Women like that never play lacrosse. They possibly play tennis. But not lacrosse. Only women like Maddies play lacrosse, which is far more interesting."

He sips at his tea. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you want the signature on the book, that's my price."

[maddyandnine]

Maddy eyes him with one eyebrow raised, trying her level best to read him and figure out just what, if any, ulterior motives he might have.

And failing miserably, of course.

"I'd be a fool to turn it down, right? A chance to be kissed by the amazing and apparently famous Robin Goodfellow."

[maddyandnine]

Maddy comes back with a larger cup full of something that smells like cinnamon, and resettles.

"Tell me about Robin Fellowes. He seems like an interesting fellow, after all."

[ifwebefriends]

Robin sniffs the air. "Chai? Cider?" he asks, finding the contents of her cup more interesting at the moment than the oh-so-interesting Robin Fellowes.

This is a rare occurrence, that he finds anything more interesting than himself, Maddy. Write it in your diary.

Robin dips a finger into her cup-- at least the rudeness is still in play-- and licks the drop off, thoughtfully. "....mmm."

"Also it's Robert."

[maddyandnine]

"Right, right. Robert." Without thinking she lightly smacks his hand away from her cup, a habit she likely learned from having siblings.

"Ha. Um. Cider, actually."

[ifwebefriends]

"It's on my driver's licenses! All of them," Robin says. "And your cider is delicious."

He leans back in his chair, one lanky arm draping over the back, long legs stretched out under the table to bump into Maddy's feet-- "ah, sorry" (except he doesn't move them) and smiles crookedly at her.

"Robert Fellowes is alright I suppose, if you want tales of the sex drugs and rock and roll variety."