A Blind Date

[Drayson]

Drayson nodded in understanding as Victoria excused herself to address the call she received. He knew all too well; it was either a minor miracle that he had not yet received a message of his own, or a sign that there were still people in the system working to keep him out of the loop. Likely the latter. Miracles were a pleasant dream, but sadly not a reality.

While she was away, he checked his own Wallet; nothing that required his immediate attention, but there was never a shortage of things to occupy his attention. Ongoing investigations and high-priority crime reports, mostly. He flagged a few for further reading, then set the Wallet away as she returned to the table.

The news was clearly disheartening; the woman was very good at keeping those sorts of emotions hidden away, but he hadn't made it as far as he had for being unable to read people. But whatever it was, it wasn't enough to derail her emotionally, and she neatly bottled it up and returned with humour.

"Do not fret about it. It is just a matter of time before I'm pulled away, I'm sure."


He chuckled quietly and shook his head. "No, your secrets are safe. For now, at least. Francis kept me in the dark as to just whom exactly I would be dining with this evening. Only that it was someone he works with. I thought about doing background checks on every woman in the hospital, but that seemed a little excessive."


The waiter returned to take their food and drink orders; for Drayson, it was the Chateaubriand steak, and a bottle of red wine from the Duboeuf vineyards of France. He knew just enough about wine to identify a few well-received labels.

"You have not been in the city long, I take it? It's tradition for any good Brit to find their nearest pub. There is sure to be one in every city in the world. Churchill is just one of a few in Moscow. Expats, travelers, and like-minded locals."

[Torri]

A matter of time before their date was cut short. Torri briefly glanced down. He could have at least tried to sound dismayed at the prosepct. She was probably just being sensitive for no reason. A date hadn't gone well for a while.

They paused their conversation long enough to place orders. Drayson kept his word and requested the expensive steak. Torri went with the duck breast and greens.

She liked that Drayson wasn't in the military. He was pleasant and polite, and they related to one another. She was certainly comfortable around him, but she wondered whether he felt a spark. She wasn't sure if she felt one herself. Still, the company was fine.

She thought for a moment, adding up the days since moving here. "You'd likely not have found me. I don't work at a civilian hospital, but am stationed at the Kremlin itself. I was in the middle of a Med. Genetics residency in Berlin when I was pulled here only a handful of days before the unrest in DV. But I do work with Francis from time to time. He runs laboratory samples for me."


Thankfully, their wine was delivered promptly. Things would ease up after a glass, although technically she had to keep her wits sharp in case of a summons from EoA.

[Drayson]

Drayson cocked an eyebrow briefly when she glanced to her lap. A look of disappointment, if he wasn't far off the mark. Related to what? A moment's thought gleaned the answer to that, and he let out a self-deprecating chuckle. He had always been the type to put his foot in his mouth around women.

It was a nice change of pace to share a table with someone with a proper level of decorum; he wasn't quite the stiff-collar most seemed to think he was, but there was something to be said about a person with the confidence to sit still and focused. A modest style of dress, a proper bearing of one who had more then their appearance to offer, and knew it.

"Ah, the Kremlin? A beautiful place, if one can ignore all the red tape and bureaucrats."
He smiled fondly; there was a wealth of history there, which sadly went unknown to most. There were tours of parts of it, of course, but even then, so much went unseen and unappreciated. "I find they are far more comfortable if I limit my time there."


"Francis does get around, doesn't he? He is very good at his job."
Drayson made use of the man from time to time, for some of the higher profile cases that drew his attention. He would not ask what exactly she did; it was easy enough to accept that she was simply a military doctor; that would explain her presence in DV.

He nodded his appreciation to the waiter as the man arrived with and poured their wine, and he took a sip, going through all the proper motions to assess if it were of a passable vintage. He was not terribly particular about such things, but it did seem pleasant to him. Another sip and he set his glass aside for the time being. "So did you grow up in Argentina then? I have never been to the Americas, myself."

[Torri]

"I try to keep my eyes down while I walk."
She replied. Otherwise she'd drown in red tape and bureaucrats.

She followed his lead on the wine, sampling some after both their glasses were poured. She hesitated just a moment in case he wanted to toast something, but when he didn't, Torri didn't mind the absence of the ritual. She sipped, and it was good, but she wasn't sure if she would be able to pick out a bad wine. And in a place like this, they likely didn't stock anything that wasn't impeccable.

"I was born there, but I'd not say I grew up in Argentina. All over, really. We moved every couple of years. Even then my parents rarely let me go off base. South America is 'no place for a little crumpet like myself to be wandering,' or so my parents said."
Her expression denoted mischief at that last, but not so much as to toss red-flags.

She wasn't particularly keen on talking about herself. Perhaps she was the only woman alive that found the subject uncomfortable, and it might have something to do with the fact that she was still single. It was hard to have a relationship with someone while yet keeping them at arm's length.

She was quite ready to shift the focus back on Drayson. "What about you? What made you get into police work?"

[Drayson]

It was a surprising topic shift for him. Women were, usually, quite expressive and enjoyed to converse. It was a genetic thing, as he understood it; they were simply far more skilled at conveying information via the spoken word, while men were more...direct, less expressive. But she did not seem to be so inclined; it could be a quiet evening.

He chuckled quietly and nodded his understanding to her parents' opinion. South America had never been a safe place, and in the past few decades that had not improved much. Some regions fared better then others, but he suspected the CCD wasn't stationing troops on aid missions in the parts that were pleasant and safe.

"The police academy offered it's training for free, and was a guaranteed job. I am the eldest of four boys, and my mother, God bless her, did her best to do well by us, but times were tight on the Isle. So I joined the very day I turned 18 and a half. My pay check put my two surviving brothers through school, and kept a roof over my mother's head."
The details were matter of fact. There was no pride in the statement; he had done what had been his duty as the man of the house, and had never chucked that mantle since the moment he donned it.

"It was a few years after The Isles joined the CCD with the rest of Europe, so the economy was still pulling itself together. Luckily, it turned out I was quite well suited to the job."
The story of his life was, for the most part, public knowledge. There was little about him that was kept private. A person in his position needed to be an open book to the public; the man tasked to make sure corruption did not run rampant needed to be seen as someone with nothing to hide, after all.

[Torri]

Drayson was an upstanding guy. He didn't mention a father figure, so Torri assumed he felt he fulfilled the dutiful responsibility as household provider by enlisting in the Academy. As he went on to explain, his decision did just that. He really was a good man. A decent man. She could see why Francis thought he would be good for her. And in a way, he was right. There were shortages of good men in Torri's life.

She took a drink of the wine and nodded along while Drayson continued.

Take Michael, for instance. He described his aversion for warfare, yet he continued to advance victories in such on behalf of the CCD. She recalled the way he abandoned the trucks to face a hostile force unarmed, alone, and unshielded. Yet he decimated them with a few waves of his arms. The memory made Torri want to shudder to her very bones. Perhaps she did, and she shook herself out of her own head after an awkward silence fell between them.

"M'hmm.
She nodded along, not quite sure what it was Drayson had been saying at the end. He was a good man. He deserved something better than what she could offer.

[Drayson]

She seemed to grow distant, lost in thought if he hadn't missed his guess, especially towards the end of his tale. Whatever she was thinking of, did not sit well with her. The woman tensed, and seemed to shy away from whatever memory it was that was haunting her. It was only a guess, but it was probably something to do with her experiences in Dominance V. He couldn't imagine such an experience not dominating one's attention.

When she seemed to return to the moment, he smiled sympathetically, clearly not offended that she hadn't been paying attention. He had worked with many people in the past going through similar emotional states; although in that respect, they had been victims of crimes mostly. She, he suspected, was not one to see herself as a victim.

She had already proven the type that did not like to talk about herself; not so different from himself, in that respect. So asking her if she wished to talk about what was troubling her seemed a bit too invasive, especially for a first date. Perhaps a third, should he be so lucky. For the moment, a change of topic was needed.

"You spent time in South America. Did you ever get a chance to visit the Real Gabinete Portugues De Leitura in Rio de Janeiro?"
It was considered one of the world's most beautiful libraries, and had an intriguing collection of letters and journals from the age of exploration and piracy of the New World, showing a glimpse of wonders that were later destroyed by the Europeans. Tenochtitlán, which later became Mexico City, for example.

Those works had been obtained as the Mexican National Library had been forced to auction off some of it's rarer works to make up for the drastic budget cuts they suffered, as the country, so closely linked to the US market, had floundered terribly in the recent decades.

She had seemed interested in the restaurant's decor, relating it to the library where she had gone to medical school. Perhaps they shared an interest in such things? He could appreciate the history and grandeur of the world's great libraries, and he had always counted himself lucky to live in the CCD, as it had made it easy to visit no few of those places in his life.


Edited by Drayson, Jul 28 2014, 06:48 PM.

[Torri]

Drayson's sympathetic smile washed Torri with guilt. She'd not meant to drift, but her mind was split in a dozen directions at once. Part of her was tuned to the sensation of her Wallet buzzing an alert from EOA while continuing to wonder how long remaining Facility patients would live. There was Michael, too, in the back of her mind waiting like the memory of a bad dream she couldn't shake. Her bias was likely unfair, but he frightened her more than any of the others. Probably because she'd seen first hand what he could do. To stand in his presence was literally to place her life in his hands. She didn't like that kind of vulnerability.

Here Drayson was, a good man, trying to rouse her drowsy interest for a pleasant dinner. She was glad he chose to redirect the topic at hand, but she was not prepared to find herself pleasantly surprised by where he selected they journey.

His mention of Rio's library caught her off guard. "Actually yes, yes I did,"
she said. She smiled conspiratorial and gestured that he hold that thought a moment while she ran through some searches on her Wallet. A few moments later she turned the screen toward him to browse. "That's me and my mom,"
she pointed at an eleven-year-old version of herself standing in the great domed room. Books stretched high like a waterfall of knowledge behind her. At that age, Torri had shoulder length crop of hair, was wearing sneakers, shorts and a tank-top. Her skin was tanned and her smile toothy. Her mom was next to her with one hand resting on her daughter's shoulder.

"What made you bring it up? Have you been there?

[Drayson]

Drayson let out a hearty chuckle and shrugged dismissively at Victoria's question of why he brought up the library in question. "I am a Detective, Victoria. It is my job to pick up on the little things. You like the Library Hall,"
he gestured to the room they were in, "and are well educated woman, raised by equally well educated and dedicated parents. A trip to one of the greatest libraries in the world seemed a likely event."


He smiled teasingly; it wasn't so great a stretch really. Really more of a stab in the dark in the hopes to change the topic and breath some life into the conversation, and to take her mind away from what was haunting her. A stab that apparently had worked.

He leaned forward to view the picture she shared with him. To most people, the sharing of family photos was a simple thing with little meaning asides some small desire to gloat over the exciting things they had done. She did not seem the type, she did so eagerly, with pride more of her family and memories then of any desire to 'show off.'

"Your father is a very lucky man. I can see where you got your looks from, Victoria."
He spoke truthfully, but his attention quickly shifted to the fleeting image of that distant library, before settling back in his seat. "Sadly no, I have never been. Likely never will. Due to my position, foreign travel is frowned upon. Trips all the way to the Isle are hard enough to arrange at times. I have visited a few of the great libraries in DVII though."


His Wallet buzzed silently in his pocket, and he smiled apologetically as he pulled it free to glance at the display. It was bad form to be distracted by his phone while in a woman's company, but it was rare that someone tried to get ahold of him that wasn't for something important. Luckily, while important, it wasn't something that required his immediate response. An update regarding the newly started investigation into the anomalous book keeping at one of his precincts. The message was saved and his Wallet tucked away again in short order.

[Torri]

Torri attempted to hide her foolishness behind a smile, but the flushed edges of her expression gave her away. Of course he was a detective. She'd even teased him about checking her record, but it hadn't occurred to her he might put common sense to practical use. She had liked the Library Hall.

His compliment regarding her family, and by proxy, herself, was received without refute. She was the lucky one, she might have claimed. Knowing that her parents were not only good people but still married after all these years. Their lives taught them to dismiss the pettiness other couples might have split over, and their cool-headedness was passed on to their only child.

"The Trinity College Library in Dublin? Have you been there?"
The Long Room was arguably the most famous feature of the library. It was built in the early 1700s and measured an astonishing 65 metre-long chamber of unobstructed space that housed more than 200,000 books. It was also home to the Book of Kells. No matter what one's religious leanings were, the book was astonishingly beautiful. It was amazing how the pages survived 1500 years. How many human eyes had gazed upon its pages? What of those monks that wrote it so long ago? They were truly artisans of the sort to no longer exist today.