The Half-Baked Bean, hm. Well, all Taryn could say to that was that Darcy had good taste and he had better be buying. Not that this was a date or anything, of course, but he had offered, and she didn't have enough on her to pay for the Bean's ridiculously expensive coffee.

"Well, boyo, what's your price range? Hope you're prepared to be spending a lot." Especially if he intends to make this a commonplace occurrence, what with the wanting to 'catch' her and all.

Not that she'll mind much if he keeps this kind of thing up. As long as he doesn't touch her.

"Ah, do not trouble yourself about it, I 'ave it covered. Anysing you like, okay?" Darcy gave her a roguish grin, and nodded towards the counter. He worked part-time, and had just gotten paid a day ago, lucky for him. He didn't go out to eat very often - when he felt like eating out, it was usually a fast-food place. Not a high-end coffee shop.
Darcy was lucky - he could look like he belonged anywhere. Here at the Bean, his old jacket, black cargo pants, and skate sneakers made him look like the new wave of business casual, somehow.

Taryn had to chuckle, but she did as prompted and ordered something with more chocolate than a Hershey's factory. She wasn't kidding when she said she adored the stuff, you see...

Darcy, prepare to go broke, if you're going to be trying this more than once.

"And an eclair," she added, as an afterthought.

Darcy smirked. Girls and their chocolate... Not to say he didn't like chocolate. He just liked things like chips and pizza better. Well, he didn't feel like anything chocolatey today, so... he ordered some kind of cappucino and a cheese croissant. He even smiled when the person at the counter gave him the total for the order.

Once he'd paid and slipped his wallet (somewhat lighter) into his back pocket, he picked up the tray. With a nod, he gestured to a seat by the window. "Après vous," he smiled.


((trans: après vous = after you))

Something that should be noted about Taryn. Her moods are... mercurial. One day (or one hour, even), she'll be depressed, morose, and suicidal. The next, she'll skip across the coffee shop.

Guess which one it is today.

The fact that she's getting lots of chocolate for free probably helps, granted, but still. She's still skipping through the Half-Baked Bean.

(She skips down the hallways at Keaton too, sometimes. When there aren't too many people in them.)

Darcy raised an eyebrow, looking both amused and pleased as he followed her to their seat and set down the tray. This was the girl who had been planning to drown herself not so very long ago? He'd never have guessed.

Sliding into his seat, he placed the tray on the table with just a little momentum so that it spun a few times, slowly, and stopped so that their orders would be facing them. Nothing was out of place. He smirked.

Darcy liked to show off.

That was the idea. You think she wants people to guess that she's suicidal, hm? Of course not. She's very good at pretending to be happy, even when she's not. (Though at the moment, she's not really pretending either. She's enjoying herself.)

"Nice trick." She cocked her head. "Can you do more?"

Yep. 'Entertain me.' Taryn is occasionally very childlike in her actions--perhaps it's due to the fact that she stopped being a child so very early, and she wants it back.

He nodded in reply to her question, finding the way she asked it to be rather endearing. "Sure. But zat one, it was not a trick, it was easy. You like magic tricks, maybe?" he queried, then added hastily. "But not real ones. I don't do ze real ones. I do ones like zis."

Darcy waved a penny in front of her, held between finger and thumb. He snapped his fingers- it was gone. Then he reached forward and retrieved it from, apparently, her ear. A classic bit of fake magic. "See?"

She stiffened slightly when his hand came close, but she giggled at the bit of sleight of hand anyway.

"If I want real magic tricks, I'll talk to Jay and make him do something for me." Again, a sort of childlike quality--people do what she asks them to do. At least, her friends and people that she likes do. The rest of the world can hang.

Taryn is a curious mix of innocent child and cynical adult. Wonder which one's more her...

"Do more."

"Mmm... One more. I do not do many tricks wit' coins. I do more with cards, but I do not 'ave my cards today. See, I have much too much time on my 'ands," Darcy smirked apologetically. He took a second penny from his jacket pocket, and placed one of the coins in each hand, so that Taryn could see him do it. He closed his fingers over them, shook them a couple times... "Now for ze fun part."

He opened both hands. Two pennies in one, none in the other.
Closed them again. Did a little 'magic' motion with his hands and said, "Abracadabra!".
He opened both hands. One penny, in his left hand. In the other, none.
He did the little hand-motion again. When he opened his hands again, there were two pennies in each hand for a grand total of four.

"Zat one took a lot of practice, but it is easy once you know it," he smiled, flipping one of the coins into the air and catching it.

"Do it again. I want to see if I can guess how it works." She knows a little bit of sleight of hand herself, but she doesn't practice enough to get it to look right. Anyway, it's more fun to simply watch and see if she can guess the secret.

She's only managed that a few times--had theories on several, but had never gotten a chance to confirm most of them, so she didn't count them.

If Darcy's smart, he'll keep her guessing.

"Okay," Darcy nodded. He repeated the trick, but this time, made the pennies vanish one by one, until they were all gone. Then he sat back and took a long sip of his cappuccino, amber eyes glimmering mischievously at Taryn over the cup's rim. When he put the cup down, there was a coating of foam just above his upper lip. "Did you watch close?" he asked, with an amiable smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

She made a face at him. "You're supposed to do the same thing, so I can see what you do, silly," she mock-scolded. "How am I supposed to guess if you don't do it the same?"

Know something strange? Taryn's actually more at ease with Darcy than she would have been had she met him as a human before meeting him as a wolf. See... he knows already--or at least some things. He doesn't know everything--and he isn't trying to haul her off to a shrink or threatening to tell her parents.

It's kind of nice.

He licked the foam off his upper lip, grinning. "But Idid do it ze same! It's ze same ting, to get ze coins to appear and to disappear. Same motions. And besides, it is magic, chérie! Even if it is not real, you want to be surprised by it, n'est-ce-pas?"


((trans: n'est-ce-pas = 'isn't it', or 'isn't that right'))

She threw a piece of eclair at him. Just a bit of the pastry, without much chocolate, though. Wouldn't want to waste chocolate, after all...

"Silly boys. All of 'em. No matter what species."

Wick, Jay, Darcy... Three different species, three different boys, three different immediate reactions from Taryn... all clowns. At some point or another.

Laughing, Darcy caught the bit of projectile pastry, and popped it into his mouth. "Mm, merci. Not bad at all," he teased. Then he tore off a bit of his croissant and chucked it at Taryn. "Why don't you try some of mine?"

Silly boy? Too right he was.

She threw it back, aiming for his hair.

"I don't like cheese."

But she was grinning anyway. Fun, yes. Sometimes, she forgets how to just have fun with a friend boy. (As opposed to a boyfriend, you see.) The fear tends to get in the way.

But she's pretty relaxed, here and now. And he's on the other side of the table.

"Ahh, you," he chuckled, and this time the bit of food hit its mark. He looked upwards, though he couldn't see it anyway, and began combing his hair with his fingers looking for the piece of croissant. Finally finding it, he dropped it on the side of the tray. "Waste of good croissant," he joked, and took a bite of the remaining cheese-covered snack.

Yes, he definitely wanted Taryn to be one of his friends for keeps. He had very few friends who knew he was human. A new one was always welcome.

"You have cheese in your hair."

And if he didn't want to waste it, then he shouldn't have thrown it at her. (Why do you think she threw a bit without chocolate at him, after all, hm? Wouldn't want to waste something as good as that...)

Also, he didn't. Have cheese in his hair, that would be. She was only saying it, and the twinkle in her eyes probably gave it away. Maybe. Taryn's a halfway decent actress.

"Hn? I do?" he blinked, certain that she was serious. "I was sure I 'ad gotten it out..."

He shook his head a few times, as a wet dog will do to dry itself. Then he remembered they were in a public place, and began running his hands through his hair. He did this a few times, then looked at Taryn. His hair was all over the place.
"Is it gone?"

((that was me. Forgot to log in. -.-' ))

"No." It hadn't been there in the first place, how could it be gone, hm? "And now your hair looks like you stuck your hand in a toaster."

She giggled. "It's all... fwoof!" At which she waved her hands around her head, as if indicating just how far his hair was sticking out. He looked rather cute. Like a Pomeranian or something.

Her eyes weren't just twinkling now, they were dancing.

((No worries, doll.))

He smirked wryly, but didn't make a move to put his hair back in place. "I will fix it later. 'Ere, will you get ze cheese off? I do not know where it is..." Darcy leaned on the table on his elbows, tipping his head forwards so Taryn could help him get the (imaginary) cheese out of his hair. He didn't mind looking like he'd been given an electric shock. But leaving food in his hair? No way.

Whoops. Touch him. Don't touch him. Tell him it was a joke. Pretend to get the cheese out and let him think it's real. Eeeep.

A brief hesitation.

"Sure."

And her hand flicked in his hair a little, brushing the invisible cheese onto the table, or maybe the floor, and returned to her lap. Now get out of her space.

Just as he'd been oblivious to the fact that there wasn't really anything in his hair, Darcy also didn't notice Taryn's reluctance to touch him.

"Heh. T'anks," Darcy flipped his head backwards and leaned back in his seat. He ran his fingers back through his hair, trying to put it back into a semblance of neatness. He half-succeeded. It still looked like he'd been taking a walk in a strong breeze.
"See, cheese does not belong in hair," he said, smirking and taking a bite of the croissant, and pointing to his stomach with a teasing smile on his face. "It belongs in 'ere."

Had he noticed, she would have denied it. Or said that she didn't want to touch icky cheese, or something. Taryn was oddly grateful that Darcy was so inobservant. He knew enough.

"As long as it's your stomach, not mine," she grinned. "I don't like cheese, as I said."

And she took a large, pointed bite of her eclair, rolling her eyes back and basically looking like a cat that's discovered an entire warehouse of catnip.

"Eh. Is your choice," he shrugged, and devoured the remainder of his snack. He smirked at her, briefly, before turning his attention to his cappuccino. Again with the foam-mustache. He licked it off. Then looked at Taryn, frowning thoughtfully. But the thoughtful look rapidly vanished, replaced by a thoughtless smile. "It would be an understatement to say you like chocolate, no?"

"Hmm?"

She opened one eye and grinned.

"No, not at all. I hate the stuff, can't you tell?"

Playful sarcasm. She's full of sarcasm in all sorts of forms...

"Oh, of course," Darcy grinned, and took another sip of his cappuccino. He eyed her suspiciously. She was sarcastic. He wasn't like that himself, preferring to make his words as easily understandable as possible. He had a difficult time as it was, without using sarcasm to complicate things. Though, with Taryn, well, he found it to be amusing, and not a puzzle.
Because she made it so obvious.
Darcy liked obvious.

It wasn't always obvious. There were times when she was subtly sarcastic, which was usually when she was angry or annoyed or upset... 'Course, at those times, she wasn't likely to skip across a coffee shop...

She took another bite of eclair, and went through the entire performance all over again. Only now she'd discovered two warehouses of catnip.

Taryn loves her chocolate. She's also a bit of a ham.

Darcy smirked pleasantly, watching her as he finished off his coffee. Seeing other people happy made him happy - that was all it took, most times. He could do with the sad parts, as long he was allowed to make them smile afterwards. "So," he said suddenly, looking expectantly at Taryn. "Do I get to keep you now?"

Her grin dropped into her habitual half smile--she'd begun doing that when she got tired of people asking what was wrong when nothing was--and her eyes narrowed.

"I'm harder to catch than that," she told him coolly. "It'll take more than an eclair and some coffee to win me."

And he'd been doing so well, too.

Awwww... zut..., Darcy thought, a look of disappointment momentarily flickering across his face. It made him look like a begging puppy. And she'd looked so happy, too.
His habitual smile returned. Bouncing back. "Will two eclairs win you?" he asked, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Probably not. Boyo, you're looking at the work of months, here. Don't push your luck."

The fact that she's willing to give him those months should be encouraging. She wants to like him, but if he pushes too hard... Sorry, Darcy. You'll have to be very very careful.

At the moment, her trust is like spun glass.

Darcy's face fell. "Hmmmm," he mumbled, sinking forwards onto the table, and half hiding his face in his arms. But he was still watching her. He was trying to decide which he liked more - the challenge, or the actual gaining of her trust. He settled on actually getting Taryn to trust him. And sighed. He was going to have to wait. Well, anticipation was supposed to be something something something.
He didn't remember that line, but he was sure it described the situation very well.

((Damn library computers))

Taryn smiled a little. He was too cute to be mad (ish) for long.

"Aw, don't look so sad, Darcy. You look like a kicked puppy, and you're farther along than most guys I know..."

He's seen her at her worst. That's got to count for something.

He brightened a little. She thought he was doing well. That was a good sign.
Then he wiped the brighter look off his face, trying to look as kicked-puppy-like as was humanly possible, to gain her sympathy. And possibly guilt her into trusting him more.

"I 'ave been kicked," he said, sitting up and pointing at the general area of his heart, "Right 'ere."

"And...?" Her tone was playful, not cold or any such. She winked, just in case he didn't get that it was a joke. (Sometimes her humor went past people who were very straightforward types.)

"You shouldn't look like a kicked puppy--they get kicked again, and again." And that was speaking from experience.

"Ooh - and zere she goes again, ouch!" Darcy said, faking a pained look and dramatically keeling over in his chair. "You were not kidding." he said. Then he righted himself, grinning and shaking his head.

"You are a sneaky one. But I will get you."

"Well, we'll see."

Noncommittal kind of answer, but definitely better than 'No, you won't.'

(Actually, she might like it if Darcy wins her trust. He's sweet, and nice, and he buys her chocolate. If only they'd met some other way...)