2019-07-27 - Close Encounters of a Meteorological Kind

Magnolia chews slightly at the edge of a cuticle, giving herself one last look over in the full-length mirror in her small bedroom. She can hear Lark and Bennie in a deep conversation about the merits of sword-wielding princesses, and she would say something about this whole topic if she wasn't too fixated on whether or not she's chosen the right shirt to go with her jeans. Shouldn't dates be fancier? She looks over her simple, medium-wash jeans, her mustard-colored boots, and the airy flowery tunic beneath a light-knit cardigan. Her hair is loose, but she keeps debating if she should toss it back up into a ponytail, and so it's gone a bit wavy with the constant up-down. Finally, she sighs and steps back out into the mainroom so she can kiss Lark's head, thank Bennie, and head to the door so she can meet Kevin downstairs.

Wait, they did agree to meet downstairs, didn't they? She can't remember as she shoulders up her leather messenger bag that is a staple to Magnolia's look, and starts to open the door as she calls, "Bye, girls!" over her shoulder.

Kevin would have a great deal to say about the merits of self-rescuing, sword-wielding princesses, but sadly he is not privy to the discussion. That's because he's in the fifteen-year-old magenta Ford Fusion that he still drives from senior year of high school. It doesn't sound too good, but it runs. Currently, however, it is still, one sun visor down so that Kevin can fuss at his spiked hair and the collar of his loose, button-up shirt. The khakis are fine, but he's rolled the sleeves up and down several times (they're currently up), and buttoned and unbuttoned a wide range of number of buttons (currently just one unbuttoned). When the door opens, however, he jumps in his seat, hurriedly closing the visor and popping out of the car, "Oh... sorry. I should have..." He hurries around the car like he's going to meet her at the door, then realizes that's a fool's errand and just opens the passenger-side door for her, "You look great, Lia." His eyes flick down to watch her gait, wary for a limp.

There's no limp! The nervousness from the reporter does assuage some of her own nerves, and she's smiling a bit more easily as he bounces around, trying to make up for not meeting her upstairs. She is stepping forward to meet him just as he pops open the passenger door of the Ford Fusion. She will have a lot to say about that car soon, but for now, she tries not to rib Kevin coming out of the gate and just nods. "Hey, thanks. You... look good, too." Then she's clearing her throat before she ducks down into the seat with a little bounce. She tucks in her feet, takes off her bag, and settles it down in the seat's well before she works on her seat belt.

Kevin smiles brightly at the response, waiting until she's in the seat and settled before pushing the door nearly-closed, right up where she can grab it and close it herself comfortably. And then he realizes he's closed down any chance of an immediate response, so he hurries around the front of the car and ducks into the driver's seat, "Thanks." It's warm inside, very warm, even though the sun's down, and when he turns the car on, the fans crank up nearly full power, "Sorry, no AC." Clearing his throat, he goes for easy topics first, "I... um, that top's awesome. I like how it's all..." he's a words guy, damn it, so why are words failing him, "flowy." He's quiet for a moment, then adds, "So. Um. Did you know that this meteor shower used to be a couple of comets? Oh... I mean, of course you know, since you suggested it." At least he's also getting the car in gear and starting off while he's fumbling awkwardly for words.

"That's why I chose it," Magnolia says, her tone dry and amused. "For its flow." Then she settles back into the seat, shrugging up her shoulders slightly. "Don't worry about the AC. It's all good." She brushes her hands down along the tops of her thighs before she twists her fingers together, rubbing a bit at her knuckles. When Kevin starts to give her some facts about the meteor shower, she opens he rmouth to say something only to let her words dissolve into quiet laughter. "Oh, um. Well." She clears her throat. "Bennie suggested it actually."

Kevin drives the car north and west, headed out of town and around the hook of the harbor, looking bashful at her teasing, "Well the flow is good, it is very flow-licious." The laughter draws up his shoulders a moment, sure that it's directed at him, and then her words relax him again, and he laughs lightly in response, shaking his head, "You were asking Bennie for date ideas? I mean, that might not be a bad idea, actually. This idea's a really cool one." In the back seat rests a pair of folded-up blankets and a cloth grocery bag full of stuff. The smell of roast chicken fills the car pretty solidly. "So you picked a good one from whatever list she gave you."

The word 'flow-licious' has Magnolia snorting in that delicate little way-- it's cute coming out of that little upturned nose. Then she is relaxing a bit more with each touch of laughter, and she leans her head back into the headrest of the passenger seat. "She didn't really give me a list... she basically said: You will do this. And it sounded like a fun idea." She then considers Kevin with a tip of her chin, and a little quirk of her smile. "I mean, there was one idea she offered up, but I don't think--" Then she clears her throat. "Yeah."

Kevin glances over to her as he guides the car down darkened roads, "Seems a little bossy of her," but he's laughing, "What happened to the take-charge PI who doesn't take no guff from nobody?" His brows rise up, "There was another idea she offered up? But you didn't like it?" Shrugging a little, he laughs, "Well, you can't win them all. So, I got one of those roasty chickens, and some sides. Just your standard picnic stuff. And I'm just now realizing that it's 9 o'clock at night and you've probably already had dinner and dessert and wow... that was just dumb."

"Ha." Magnolia blurts this word out mirthlessly. "Look, Kevin-- you should probably know ahead of time that I'm pretty awful at this whole song and dance. Like, I was pretty good at this whole thing in high school, and obviously good enough in college, but I'm... uh." The PI chuckles. "If this was some case about a missing person, or trying to track down missing money, or even searching for a lost dog, I'd be on it. Perfect." Then she glances slightly over her shoulder at the mention of the picnic plans, and then she casts a wry smile to him. "It's okay. I can always eat."

Kevin grins over at her, "I mean... I'm not really great at it either. I either feel like I'm coming on way too hard, or nobody even notices what I'm doing. Sometimes both at the same time." Reddening a little -- thankfully the blue lights of the dash wash some of it out -- Kevin shrugs, "I did okay in college. And up in Seattle. But out here? Yeah, like I said. I screw up the approach pretty badly." Speaking of which, he flashes her a brighter grin for a moment, "Are we still doing phrasing? Because if we're still doing phrasing..." Beat pause, "That's an Archer reference. And if you haven't seen it yet, it needs to go on the list. And so you're rusty at the song-and-dance. I don't need song-and-dance, but if you want to knock some rust off, I'm good with that too."

"I've seen Archer," Magnolia says almost scathingly. "It has thirty-minute episodes." She doesn't mention that she's still only on season three. She's on season three of practically everything that has more seasons than five at the moment. Then she wrinkles her nose, giving Kevin a studious look. When she speaks next, it has an almost cautious air, "No. I would like to skip the song-and-dance. So, if you could just reassure me that you're here because you're interested and not because I blindsided you with a date request, that would do a whole lot to make my stomach stop knotting up."

Kevin starts to laugh at the near-scathing response, nodding his understanding, "Got it, thirty-minute-chunks." When she turns cautious, however, he unconsciously slows the car, half-turning his head toward her despite keeping his eyes on the road. Those eyes get very wide indeed behind his glasses, and he starts nodding his head before she finishes, "Oh, shit. Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to knot up your stomach like that. Yes. You're kind of badass, and you're smart, and you're hot, and your kid's pretty awesome. Yes, I'm interested. Sorry, I thought, I mean, I wouldn't just..." Blowing out a breath, he tries again, "Yeah. I'm interested, Lia. This isn't a pity-date." Wry laughter touches his lips, "Wow. Serious turn from high school there."

The car slows, and that draws Magnolia's eyes to his in that brief glance. When he reassures her, she relaxes a bit with a slow and thoughtful nod. "Okay." Beat. "Good." Then she is looking back out at the road as they coast their way to Rocky Beach. She is thoughtful for a moment in the wake of his words, and the wry laughter draws a small, almost apologetic smile to her lips. "Um. Sorry. You realize I was only on-the-fringes cool in high school, right?" Then she is hooking her elbow into the side of the passenger's side window. "Don't worry, though... you've got that Clark Kent hotness going on."

Kevin says, "You dated," Kevin protests, although his grin suggests he's mostly teasing as he pulls the car into the parking lot of a small greenspace, "you didn't get shoved in lockers. I'm pretty sure both of those count as popular." Beat pause, "Or I could just have a very skewed definition." Putting the car in Park, he chuckles -- maybe even a little nervously -- at her compliment, then reaches up to whip off his glasses, doing his best Blue Steel (it's really not very good), "How Super is that then?" He holds up one finger, then reaches up and does his best to twist some of his hair into a spitcurl. It bounces right back up into a spike. "There.""

There's that smile-- with its brightness and fullness that might leave most wondering if Magnolia's ever really genuine with her smiles. She's got so much salt in her most of the time. She squints over at his glasses and his hair, and then she shakes her head slowly. "Those were both horrible. I've reassessed. You're definitely Jimmy Olsen cute." Then she is glancing back at the beach, and back to Kevin. "Alright. So. Let's go find somewhere to picnic it up." Then she is reaching for the handle to pop open the door.

Slipping his glasses on, Kevin considers this, "I mean, he's a ginger, so there's the whole soulless problem, but I'll take it." He reaches out to touch her upper arm lightly, one of those affirmation-touches, and then he hurries to get out of his side of the car, heading around back to gather up the bag and blankets, "So, there's a little play castle down by the water. I figured if we didn't want to lay on Thumper's hood, the big-wide slide there would make a good place to watch." If, of course, they don't promptly side right down it.

Magnolia is helping him with the gear in the back, at least offering to take the blanket. Then she is grinning up at him when he offers up his suggestions. "We can try the slide. Isn't there also that platform where the pirate ship wheel is? I bet we could sprawl out there." Though she does look over at the magenta car, commenting offhandedly, "But... really? Thumper?"

Kevin hands over the two blankets, keeping the bag to himself as he locks the car and then wanders down toward the park, "Hey... don't question that where Thumper can hear. Look, it was back in high school, I thought it sounded cool." There's a pause, and he adds, "Plus, he just keeps going and going, and so there's the stupid corporate Energizer bunny, and Thumper's a bunny." It's a tortured reasoning, but there he goes, shrugging some mixture of bashful and embarrassed. "You want to watch a meteor shower from the deck of a pirate ship? Okay, that's pretty frickin' cool, Lia. Points."

"Uh huh." There's something dry and amused in those simple syllables as she starts down the slope to the playground. Magnolia glances up at the sky-- only a few clouds stretch along the star-strewn skies and the moon is just a tiny sliver of light near the horizon. This far out, the city lights are just little flecks of yellow. The street lights are out, perhaps in reverence for the event. Or because it's Gray's Harbor. Who knows. "I'll take the points though. I like points."

Kevin glances around as they reach the little playground structure, "So do you just want to set up on the pirate ship to start with, or do you want to try the grass or the slide, Lia?" His feet shuffle a little, and he chuckles a little dryly, "Oh right. I'm supposed to make some of these decisions, aren't I? I like the idea of being pirates." His free hand curls into a hook, and he squints at her, "Arrr." Letting his expression -- and finger -- relax, he nods toward the playground, "Everybody likes points. Just like everybody likes..." He pauses, frowning, "Huh. There may not be anything else that everybody likes..."

"Let's be pirates then," Magnolia offers up with a quirk little grin. Then she is heading toward the platforms that stack upward to the top of the structure. She glances over her shoulder at him as they scale up to the pirate ship above with its wheel and cheesy thematic equipment. "Air? I bet everyone loves oxygen." Then she is stepping up onto the elevated platform and begins to spread out the blankets, shaking them out and tossing them up high by one side before letting them settle down on the deck. She glances over her shoulder to him.

"I mean, not if you're going diving. You have too much oxygen in your mix and it can kill you, apparently." Kevin is a font of useless knowledge. He climbs up after her, doing his best not to watch her backside as she climbs -- at least not too obviously. His eyes snap up when she glances back, and he smiles a little sheepishly, but... also maybe even impishly, like, 'I shouldn't have done that, but you kind of knew I was going to, right?' And that's right when he has the bad luck to step on his shoelace, stumbling, flailing, nearly dropping the bag of food, grasping onto one wall of the enclosed area to steady himself, and spinning around so that he's sitting on the edge of the blankets. Trying to calm his hammering heart, he spreads his arms, "Safe." Nice save.

Magnolia just gives him a look, but there's a lace of amusement in that glance. She catches his impish look, and it sends a warmer grin across her lips. 'Uh huh. Figured.' Then she pads along across the blanket before she plops down. Without really thinking, she unlaces her boots and pops them off her feet, revealing mismatched socks of bright teal and magenta. Then she is looking up to see him stumble. She makes a noise that is almost a squeak, and then she's walking forward on her knees to start to help gather up the food that may have fallen out of the bag. "Nicely done," she compliments him with a grin.

Kevin managed not to spill the food, but... well... it did get tumbled around something fierce in the bag. "Yeeeeah... I'm going to be over here pretending that never happend. You let me know how successful that is." Setting the bag down, he starts to dig out tossed-up pasta salad, a small bota-box of wine that's none-the-worse-for-wear, some dinner rolls, plates, cups, silverware, and a now-upside-down chicken. As he lays the food out, he catches sight of her socks and laughs, "Okay, that's adorable." Cough, "I mean awesome."

"What didn't happen?" Magnolia's smile has a warmth to it that meets her eyes easily enough. Then she breathes out a little breath that ends in a light laugh at the compliment to her socks. "So, when Lark was three, we were living with my brother, and laundry was a pain because he had these tiny machines and we had no real good place to put our clothes, so I just dumped everything into bins. I stopped folding my socks. I just reached in, grabbed a pair that looked complimentary, and boom. I figure maybe when she's eight, I'll be stable enough to match my socks again." She helps him settle onto the blanket, and unpack the bag, organizing things with him-- or perhaps in spite of him.

Kevin mouths, 'thank you,' and folds his hands together to make a heart. As his pulse starts to return to normal levels, he toes off his own shoes to reveal plain white socks, and shifts around so that their shoulders are close, legs divergent, so that the food can be set out between them. "Screw that," he responds to the story, "if I didn't just have all plain white tube socks from Costco, I'd do that too. Anarchy on a personal level, benevolent dictatorship on a federal level."

Magnolia laughs outright at that, and she cuts him an amused look. "Yeah." Then she is settling back on the blanket before the feast. She glances aside to him with those bright blue-gray eyes, and then she is starting to poke around the food. There are stars up there, and meteors that are falling, but she's taking her time to just enjoy the quiet dark with the food. "So. Personal anarchy, benevolent dictator... conspiracy theories... reporter..." She looks over at him. "What else should I know about you in a general sense?"

The one thing Kevin forgot? Napkins. Which he doesn't realize until he's started pulling apart the chicken with his fingers. His shoulders slump, but he carries on, shredding the meat and laying it out in the container for her to pick through as she chooses. The list of his descriptors causes him to chuckle, "Um... local. Only child. My dad raised me after my mom left when I was little. I read a lot. And... um... conspiracy theories is a little pejorative. But the community can't agree on a better term. Which I think is a ruse to keep us distracted." Because of course he does. With another glance to the PI, he just pops his fingers into his mouth one after the other, sucking the chicken-grease off. "How about you?"

Magnolia's a mom! She spots the lack of napkins, and immediately grabs for her bag. She flips open the top, digging into her dad's old messenger bag-- the embossed initials of N.J. on the flap-- and pulls out a pack of baby wipes. She hands them over to Kevin with a little smile. The comment of the term 'conspiracy theories' being pejorative has her smirking a bit. "Uh huh." Again, those syllables carry a simple amusement. But, when he turns the question on her, she takes in a sharp breath. "Um. I have a twin brother-- Oliver-- he teaches at the high school. And my dad died when I was twelve, and my mom... well. She's still over on Maple. I was married once, but he was a major asshole... he's not allowed to come anywhere near me, or Lark. He's down in Vancouver." She then thinks. "I, um... there's not much to be, really. I like music, and I get a big kick out of adult coloring books."

Kevin pauses with one finger in his mouth, taking the baby wipes and sheepishly wiping off his fingers instead. He tilts his head back to ostensibly look up at the sky, but in reality, his head rolls over so he can watch Magnolia explain herself, "Music and adult coloring books." Nodding thoughtfully, Kevin looks up to the sky again, catching a few streaks and sitting up a little straighter, "Oooh." There's a pause, "Now, if I was really crazy, I'd be claiming that that's like chaff, hiding the entry burn of alien spacecraft." He grins in the darkness, looking back over to her for a moment, "But that's just dumb." Says a guy who suggested that the National Audubon Society might bug bird-trackers. "Oh, right, and I live with my dad because neither of us make enough money to live on our own. Seeeeerious catch."

That's when Magnolia's smile takes on a softer edge. "I know. I have a lot of depth." The PI looks up at the skies when he remarks on the first few streaks, and a little smile tugs up higher on her lips. She watches the skies as she speaks to him, catching his glance in passing. "See, what I just heard is that you know your dad needs help with his own finances, too, so you help your dad out by living with him." She tilts her head then. "You two get along?"

"I don't know... that's just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Baby Shark and an Elmo coloring book, isn't it," Kevin teases, then settles back, considering her re-framing of his situation and the question that follows, "That's some Clark Kent shit, isn't it?" He shakes his own words off with a grin, then lets out a sigh, "I mean, I don't know. He was never really around when I was a kid, always working too many jobs that paid too little. I was pretty much a latchkey kid. That's why I hung out with the Gray Harbor Adventurer's Guild." There's a pause, and then he asks, "What's your dream, Lia?" He only lets that hang a moment, and then he blushes, shaking his head, "Sorry. Um. Too deep."

"I will murder you, Kevin Walters, and I know where to hide your body." Magnolia says that flatly, but there's a glimmer of amusement in her eyes before she settles back, looking up at the night sky. Then she glances over toward him now, expression now serious. "I try not to have those. Get a dream, get disappointed." She sighs. "Or hurt." Then she frets at her lip. "I dream for Lark, I guess... I want her to have a good life, a full life... I want to work so she has the things she needs, and maybe a few of the things she wants. I figure once she's got everything she needs and she's happy, I can worry about me."

"Doo doo doo doo doo doo," Kevin sings Baby Shark-wise. How he learned that song is anybody's guess. His amusement fades away, however, as she actually answers his question, and he winces, even if he nods. "Yeah. And that's probably, what... fifteen years from now? Or a little bit more?" He goes silent for a moment, picking at the pasta salad with his fork, then stabs the utensil into the dish, picks up the bota box and refills both of their glasses. Only once the wine has been set down again does he look over to her, "I've seen what working your nose to the grindstone for your kid does, Lia. Promise me that just once in a while, if you see something you want and it won't hurt Lark, you'll reach for it?"

Magnolia just narrows her eyes briefly at Kevin, and murder is promised in that glare. Then she relaxes back before she enjoys her glass of wine-- second glass. She's not sure when she finished the first. She sighs out a breath, tracing her fingertip along the rim of the cup. Then she glances back up toward him before she takes a bite of chicken, chewing thoughtfully. "Well." She hesitates before she offers, quietly, "That's why I'm here." She pokes around her plate. "You know, because I wanted something."

Those quiet words actually make Kevin light up a bit, a smile flashing across his face and brightening his pale eyes behind his glasses, "Oh! Hey," his index fingers point in toward himself, and then he lifts up his own glass to toast hers, "Glad we could make that happen then." He takes a sip, shifting a little so that he can rest his shoulder against hers. "So how hard did Bennie have to push?" There miiiight be a teasing grin there behind the words, and he glances aside from the meteor shower to watch her response in the darkness.

Magnolia smirks with a wry look before she taps her glass against his gently. Then she takes a sip from the contents before she sets the vessel aside. Her fingers trail down along the edge of her jaw, chuckling dryly before she intakes a breath, cheeks puffing out briefly. "Once she agreed to babysit, it made it a lot easier." Then she is rubbing her knuckles lightly against the underside of her jaw. "I just needed a little nudge."

Kevin draws his head back slightly to watch her move through the range of expressions, "Just a little nudge. I see how it is. You need a nudge to ask a guy out." Now he's just teasing her. He takes a sip, then sets his own cup back down, "So meteor shower is great, so's the conversation." Crossing his ankles over each other, he asks, "So what other things do you do for fun besides watch 30-minute shows, color, and listen to music? Did I ask what kind of music yet?" He flashes a grin over at her, either getting comfortable there in the playground, or getting a little too deep into the wine, "I like Katy Perry."

Magnolia feels a little pink flush at her cheeks that cannot be seen in the dark. She instead smiles slightly, and shrugs a shoulder before she takes another sip from her glass. "Food's mediocre." But then he nudges around her other likes, and she folds her lips together thoughtfully. "Umm." Then she bursts out into warm laughter, interrupted by his confession. "Katy Perry?" She eyes him. "Oh god. You're serious." She breathes another laugh, shaking her head. "I like... harder stuff. Grunge rock, hard rock... alternative. Rise Against, Shinedown... furthest from Katy Perry." Not that Magnolia will ever admit to singing along to Katy Perry. No. Never.

Kevin fakes dismayed and affronted as she calls the food mediocre, then nods, "Yeah. Pretty much." The laughter draws a sniff, and then a broad smile and a laughter of his own. "Look. Just because Roar spoke to me in college..." there's a pause, and he adds, "And that Elmo shirt is awwwwwwesome." So even if he's a kind nerd, he's still a heterosexual male. "And grunge? Aren't we like... decades too late for that? Or do you like it because it's not cool anymore?"

"It really isn't bad," Magnolia says after a heartbeat, and then she drains away the last bits of her second cup of wine. Then she rests her head back against the little half-wall that surrounds this platform. When she looks his way, her blue eyes are soft and smiling. "No. My dad liked grunge. He was kind of into the Seattle scene back in the '80s... when he died, I listened to a lot of his record collection. Nirvana, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots... it was part of my grieving process."

Kevin nods slowly, "Okay, that makes sense." There's a pause, and then he adds, "That's actually kind of great that you've turned that into something happy for you." He gives her shoulder a nudge with his own, "You're a pretty smart cookie, Lia." His eyes brighten and he straightens up, "Oh! Cookies!" Putting one hand on her shoulder where he was resting against her lightly, he leans forward, snagging the grocery bag and pulling out a couple of hand-sized chocolate chip cookies. "So... do you and Lark headbang?"

"Of course it makes sense. I'm brilliant." But there's something amused in that usual flippant delivery. Magnolia then leans a bit more into his shoulder at the little nudge. Then he's leaning away to get the cookies, and she smirks a bit at his amused question. "No. Lark most definitely does not headbang." She accepts a cookie. She starts to unwrap the plastic around it while she speaks. "Lark is a bit of a reserved kid. I think it's a... side effect of those first couple years of her life."

"Pretty sure that you should always headbang if you've got the hair for it." Kevin settles against her shoulder again, looking back up to the sky as he unwraps his own cookie and takes a bite. "And yeah, she's quiet. But she's smart. Like her mom." He takes another bite, drawing in a breath and letting out it slowly, a smile setting onto his features as he combines red wine, chocolate chip cookie, and close proximity to an attractive person of the appropriate gender. "Pretty sure you've done a really good job, Lia."

"Always." There's a little warmth that settles into her stomach at the cups of wine and mix of company and ambiance. She touches her thigh against his lightly, and her head rolls against the wall of the platform while their eyes meet across the short distance. She brushes her finger across the edge of her lip, catching a bit of chocolate chip. "Thanks," she murmurs quietly. "I think she's a pretty great kid, too."

And that's the moment when Kevin leans over toward Magnolia. Unfortunately, it's actually the 'thanks' that he leans over on, so when she continues, he has to pull up, squeezing his eyes closed in embarrassed amusement for a moment, then nodding and completing that lean, aiming to settle his lips on hers for a slow, careful kiss.

Magnolia rolls Composure (8 6 6 6 6 5) vs Wine (a NPC)'s 5 (7 7 6 5 3 2 2)
Victory for Magnolia.

Luckily, two glasses of wine doesn't exactly prevent Magnolia from noticing that Kevin is leaning in toward her. She manages to finish that word just as a little smile tugs into place. Then she promptly shuts up while taking in a breath before his lips settle on hers. She is cautious, almost nervous at first, and then she presses in closer to him as their lips settle into what is a gentle first kiss.

Kevin tries to set down the cookie blindly on one of the plates and gets the chicken dish, complete with grease. That's one cookie that he won't be eating the rest of. But, well, he doesn't exactly care at the moment, since the purpose of putting the cookie down is to bring up his hand to cup Magnolia's cheek as she finally -- to him at least -- leans into it. His thumb brushes over her cheek, and then he straightens up again, slowly opening his eyes behind those wire-rim glasses and searching out her eyes in the darkness. "Oh good. I was worried there for a minute."

The touch of his thumb across her cheek tilts her chin up slightly at the encouragement of that caress. Then she is taking in a breath through her nose when he leans back from her, and her eyes take a heartbeat longer to open before she's staring at his through the lenses of his glasses. She takes in another deeper breath, and then she starts to smile with a brighter pull to her lips. "Worried?" Then she brushes her nose gently against his before she tips toward him again, this time to engage the second kiss with a steady, blossoming warmth.

Kevin starts to respond to her smiling question, and then she's leaning into him, and he meets her kiss open-mouthed. He recovers quickly, however, his lips moving over hers before parting slightly to brush his tongue along her lips. His fingers curl just before her ear, urging her closer, and he shifts a little closer to her, so that their sides press together as readily as their shoulders and thighs. His other hand settles at her hip, but does not demand anything, just a warm presence. Finally, he tips his head back, his glasses ever-so-slightly askew, and offers her a bashful little smile, "Worried I misjudged."

Magnolia rolls Composure (8 7 6 5 3 2) vs Wine (a NPC)'s 5 (7 7 4 4 2 2 1)
Marginal Victory for Magnolia.

"You didn't," Magnolia says in a breathless note. She is snugged against his side now, her eyes searching his across that shortened distance. Then she clears her throat, and the flush at her cheeks is certainly not all caused by the wine. There's a little battle there-- because part of her just wants to melt back into a third kiss, but she holds back. "It was a good... well-timed kiss."

"Good," Kevin's voice is quiet, very warm, and just a touch bashful, "But... I mean... almost well-timed." His fingers brush over her cheek, "I'll take it though." And then he clears his own throat in turn. "Um." Evidently, he's not quite sure what to say next. And so he doesn't say anything immediately, looking back up to take in the meteor shower once more. But this time, his arm rises up to encircle her shoulders, drawing her close against her side. He might pull her closer still, but there's still the remnants of dinner between their knees and their feet. "It was really good. Sweet."

The little bashful note in Kevin's voice has Magnolia almost laughing-- but the brush of his fingers slows that into just a little chuckle. "Almost? I thought it was pretty good." Then he is slinging his arm around her shoulder, and she settles more readily into his side. She tucks her legs up closer to her to avoid the various food containers, and she tilts her head up toward the starry skies and the streaks of meteors. Then she glances back toward him with a slightly arched look, and she smiles. "Yes. It was really good. And sweet." He's kissed the sass right out of her apparently because she's just warm and soft and a bit on the happy side right now. When she speaks next, she does so by leaning closer to him, "Think the stars will still be here tomorrow?"

"Jumped the gun," Kevin explains as he watches the meteors slash across the starfield. "It's okay. I'll make up for it." And then his mind goes casting about for how he's going to make up for it, and totally failing to come up with anything off the top of his head. That's why he doesn't react to her question immediately, but when he does, he blinks sharply, turning to her, looking back up to the stars, and then looking back, "I mean... yeah..." Understanding widens his eyes, and he nods quickly, "I mean, yeah. I'm pretty sure they will be." He catches up his cup and drains off the last of his second glass of wine, setting it aside and starting to look down at the mess of containers before him. Reluctantly, he slips his arm from around her shoulders and starts to pack up, grimacing over the cookie sitting in the chicken drippings -- that was going to be his cookie, dang it. "I mean, unless it gets cloudy, but even then, I'm pretty sure that the stars will be out lots of other nights." He really should shut up.

"You were saving that kiss for another time?" Magnolia's question is offered with a little twitch of a smile. Then she is popping another bite of cookie into her mouth, watching his gears turn back to her question. When he puts it all together, her brows arch with a bit of a smile spreading out across her lips. Then she winks, and finger-guns at him with a little 'tcht' noise. "There's that investigative reporter instincts." Then she is helping him with clean-up, packing everything up and back into the bag. There's one moment where she reaches for something too far, and their heads almost bonk together.

"Probably right after you were done talking, instead of right in the middle of it." The fingerguns draw a bright laugh from Kevin, and he blushes just a little bit -- which is only enhanced when they nearly bonk heads and he reaches out for her arm to fend off the approaching bonk. "Whoops!" And the laughter is back, even if it's bashful again. "Sorry. I thought I was getting the box." Grabbing the handle of the repacked bag, he pops up to his feet and offers both hands down to her to haul her up to her feet.

"Sorry!" That word is gasped at the same time he says the same, and then Magnolia is laughing once more. "I got it," she says with a little amusement slipping into her smile. Then she is pulling herself upright, only to stop to catch his hands so he can haul her up to her feet. "Um, so--"

Kevin pops her up easily to her feet, perhaps a little too close for comfort between strangers, and his hands linger on hers. The question causes him to lift his brows even as his head is dipping, "So..." He pauses with his lips a breath away from hers, his voice quieter when he continues, "...I'm pretty sure that 'your place or mine' was old when it was first said. Especially when your place is occupied. My d -- " nope, reminding the hot girl that you live with your father is not a good play here, Kevin, " -- housemate is at work tonight." He laughs a little desperately, "Um, that was really supposed to be smooth and wasn't at all. Do you want to come back to my place to finish off the wine?"

Magnolia's brow arches slowly at the build-up to that question, and slowly a smile settles into place. She considers him in an almost dramatic fashion, hmming to herself with a tilt of her head. "Well... I mean... I guess." Then she quirks her smile higher at him. "Can't let the wine go to waste." Then she bites slightly at the edge of her lip while she smiles. "I told Bennie I wouldn't bring you back to my place... you know, if..." And she makes a slightly offhand gesture before she reaches down to grab and hastily fold up the blankets. "Yup, your place. Let's go."

Kevin's eyes start to widen as Magnolia thinks and considers, and he opens his mouth, straightening up from his lean. But then she relents, and her smile returns. The sudden tension in his shoulders releases, and he lets out a little breath, "Wow. That was totally brutal, Lia. Just... brutal." Oh wait, she was saying important things there. He blinks, and then she's back with the folded-up blankets, and he grins, "Oh good!" Leaning in, he looks to collect another kiss, a slow, simmering thing that is somehow bereft of the nerves that infest his speaking self.

Magnolia rolls Composure (6 3 2 1 1 1) vs Wine (a NPC)'s 5 (5 5 4 4 2 1 1)
Marginal Victory for Magnolia.

Magnolia's smile spreads wide again, showing her teeth as she leans in closer to him, the blanket loosened to hang down at her side while she presses up to meet the kiss. She's up on the balls of her feet, her nose brushing against his; then she sinks down, and her blue eyes search his in this close distance. She takes a breath, almost pressing back up on the balls of her feet before she thinks better of it. "Okay. So. Your place." Beat. "Let's go."

Kevin clears his throat, as her nose brushes against his and she sinks back into her heels. He opens his mouth, then closes it. For once, he appears to understand that words aren't going to help at the moment. Instead he reaches down to clasp one of her hands, leading the way down the playground structure, over the wobbly bridge, and down a series of steps. He grins over his shoulder at her -- and then promptly trips over the edge of rubberized play area, stumbling, flailing the bag and her hand before he recovers, "Woah! What the hell is with tonight?" Pause, "I mean, the tripping and stuff. The rest is great." And they're at Thumper, and he opens the door for her.

When Kevin trips, Magnolia catches him in a stagger before they almost collapse onto the rubberized mats under the playground. She looks up at him, and her smile starts to redouble into something high and bright with a slight wrinkle at her nose. "I don't know. The klutz thing isn't natural?" Then she is getting into the passenger seat with a little plop, tucking her feet into the well before she twists to drop the blankets behind her seat.

"I mean... yes, kind of," Kevin admits as he watches her tuck herself into the seat, "But not usually this bad." He shuts the door and comes around to the driver's seat, setting the food bag in the back seat and then getting the car going. "You should totally take it as a compliment, right? If you're making me nervous enough to become a total klutz?" He starts driving back toward the city, "Because that's a thing, right?" His hand rests on the gearshift, his eyes flickering over to her, then back to the dark road.

"That's a thing," Magnolia agrees soberly. Then she is resting back into her seat before she rolls down the window, letting the air from the beach waft in. It ruffles up her hair as he drives, and she is talking with her cheek resting on her knuckles, elbow braced against the edge of the window. "There's something kind of endearing about it as long as you don't nut me in the forehead later." Then Magnolia casts a warm smile toward him.

With her hair flowing in the wind, Kevin's next glance aside to Magnolia is a little longer, and he has to nudge the car just a little to stay in the middle of the lane. With his eyes back on the road, his mouth drops open at her words, "Oh, right. Headbutting." Because that could mean something tooooootally different without that understanding of British-isms. He looks back to her, grinning, "Yeah, you belong in a convertible, Lia."

"Yes. Headbutting." Magnolia looks bemused at him. "What else could that possibly mean?" Then she narrows her eyes. "Gross." But there's a light of laughter in her eyes as she looks back out at the road. His comment about where she belongs has her arching a brow at him, and her amusement returns full force. "Do I? Too bad I own a shitty Honda instead of a convertible. I'd probably look cute in one, too."

"Hey! You said 'nut me.' I just read it all American." Kevin grins over at her, keeping his eyes on the road as he does. "I mean, we can make anything a convertible -- once." He pauses, then gestures to himself and then Magnolia, "I mean, not we, since me and power tools don't really work out so well. I'm more of a wordsmith, not a anything-else-smith." His place is evidently closer to the park than hers, because he pulls into the driveway of a dilapidated track house that was probably pretty crappy when it was made -- decades ago. It's been kept up okay, but the bones aren't great to start with.

Magnolia rolls Accents: Amazing Success (8 8 7 7 7 6 6)

"I did." Magnolia's smile curls higher up on one side. Then her voice slips into a Londoner accent-- precise and so perfected that she might as well be Emilia Clarke. "Oh, darling. Surely you are not suggesting that I am going to be doing anything with my delicate brow near your chuckles." Then she casts him a brilliant smile before she slips out of that accent and into laughter. "That's okay. Maybe when the Honda breaks down, I'll make a stupid Pacific Northwest decision and buy a convertible." Then she is looking out the windshield at the house as they pull into the driveway, and then she pops out of the passenger seat without comment. She lives in a shitty apartment above her office. No judgement.

Kevin breaks to a sharp stop just shy of the driveway, turning over to her goggle-eyed, "Khaleesi." And then he parses her words, "Chuckles?" he shrugs, then understanding dawns, "Oh. Yeah. No, no chuckles and brow." He pauses, as if he's going to say more, then pulls the rest of the way into the driveway and puts the car into Park, leaning over and reaching up to nudge her jawline with one knuckle, to turn her face toward him so that can taste her lips again, his hand turning over to spread his fingertips across her cheek. It's a long, slow, luxurious dance of lips, and then he draws back just a touch, "Come inside?"

She's not out of the car, but the door is open as he leans in to pull her into another kiss. Magnolia forgets the door entirely as he draws her into that kiss. Her eyes flutter shut, and she's sinking into it with a melting quality that suggests she's certainly not all stony sass. She is a bit braver as their kiss ensues, and she draws her tongue gently down across his own before she is murmuring something against his lips. Her smile widens a bit again. "Yeah. Um. That sounds like a good idea. Pretty sure we'd get arrested if we go much further than kissing in your car." Then she ducks away, smiling over her shoulder as she eases out of the car, picking up her bag as she does.

Kevin turns his head into that murmuring brush of her tongue, chasing it with his hand slipping to the back of her neck. The words that follow, however, draw him up in his seat again, and his brows shoot up. Once she's out of the car, he mouths to himself, 'wow.' And then he hurries out of the car, ignoring the loosely-folded blankets and the bag of leftovers in the back seat. His steps come quick so that he can catch up to her, keys in his left hand, and his right settling at the small of her back, "I mean, I don't like the sound of 'arrested,' but I like the suggestion behind the rest of it." Unlocking the door, he pushes it open, "Up the stairs, first door on the right." The front room is a little shabby, a lot of second- and third-hand furniture, a few t-ball pictures and... not a whole lot more.

That detective's eye takes in each detail upon stepping inside the house. Magnolia's gaze lingers on the t-ball pictures at the little Kevin, but then she is glancing behind her toward him with a little twitch of a smile. Then she is pointing up the stairs for confirmation before she starts up the steps with an easy, casual pace. She rubs slightly at the back of her neck with both hands, not looking back behind her as she scales up to the landing and turns down to the right.