Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

[russ]

Continued From: [navy]Just a Bit of Southern Comfort[/navy]

A day could never have passed more slowly. After settling on the time and place that he would most likely ‘run into’ Helena again, Russell had spent most of his afternoon at the Lafayette Cemetery filling an entire memory card with pictures. But with anticipation for the night, Russ spent a great deal of time in preparation. Before sundown, he returned to the Marquette House, the hostel he was staying at, and decided on something casual but with character to wear. A guy didn’t want to seem over eager, but he was certain to run through the normal checks to make sure he was freshly shaven and his breath was minty fresh. He did not make it habit to go about the states with bad breath, but extra precautions should be taken under circumstances such as these.

Satisfied that he was presentable, Russell embarked on the twenty-minute walk to the French Quarter. His things were secured away in a locker at the hostel, so he was not as bogged down now with his oversized backpack. Freely walking the dark streets, Russ shoved his hands in his pockets to try and shake off the jittery feeling that came with the settled cool of the night.

As he reached Rue Bourbon, Russ passed a few eyebrow-raising joints at the upper end. He knew that numerous strip clubs could not possibly be all there was, at least from what he had heard about New Orleans. Passing a line, a few obnoxious guys jeered at him “What you doing on this side of the Velvet Line?” He could tell by their chorus of laughter that they were trying to insult him, but without proper familiarity of the area the affront was lost on him.

Needless-to-say, he was relieved as the street leant itself to a nightlife more his style, and he found Lucy’s amid a number of other bars already showing signs of activity. A little grin crossed his lips as a number of people drank freely on the street, his boyish intrigues getting the better of him. But inside seemed to have as much to offer as the street of neon lights. The Victorian style bar was pleasingly attractive, but with an antique maturity. Given, he’d have been just fine with some grimy dive, but would hardly think such a place worth recommending to a tourist.

Against the wall a jazz quartet played something vaguely familiar, but he would never be able to recall what or why he knew it, because he rarely listened to jazz. Still, it set an aesthetically pleasing atmosphere. He was hardly expecting to hear anything else in the city. He might have been disappointed if the same old stuff he heard on the radio was being blasted over the speakers.

On the off chance that Helena was already there and he just failed to see her, Russ avoided bouncing to the rhythm as he walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. He hated to admit it, but he actually loved those fruity ‘girly’ drinks that his older sister introduced him to. He did not order one of these. Something simple, something masculine he told himself. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Pointing to a guy who looked like a rather gruff local, Russ said, “I’ll have that.” He wished he hadn’t. When he got it, the obscure drink made his face contort slightly as he choked to himself. “Gah... that tastes like feet!” If drinking liquid asphalt wasn’t manly enough, he didn’t know what was. Fortune favoured him, as no one seemed to notice, and he headed for an off to the side table with proper view of the door.

He had one thing to say for the wretched drink, it burned his nerves right up… if only temporarily.


[Tag: Helena Nicodeu
Notes: If you had something specific in mind for the bar... well... I hope it's not too different from what I came up with. Ha, but I'll... no, we'll just ignore my description and you can do a proper one in your post to follow if it's not what you want.]

[helena]

”You know, I’d bet my back molars that guys never go through this kind of stuff. They just throw on their slacks, mess up their hair a bit, and poof! Instantly ready for anything. Girls on the other hand…the world would END when we could find a suitable outfit in under ten minutes…”

A shirt hit the bed behind her, and Atilla- the neighbor’s cat who liked to show up and park its little furry butt in her townhouse- skidded the projectile with an unhappy hiss. The poor thing was jumping all over the place, dodging various flying skirts, shirts, dresses and shoes, as it tried to make its way to the plate of cookies on the bedside table.

Turning to face the full length mirror behind her, Helena held up a dress. ”Hey, Fat Cat, be of some use, here. What about this one?” The cat blinked, and the offending fabric joined its brothers on the bed.

” True; too 80’s. What about this one?”

A hairball. Okay, definitely going to take that as a no.

”What about this?”

Another hairball. Damn, this was going to be harder than she’d thought…

About four outfits into the show, the doctor began to realize two very important facts; one, her comfort food had just been inhaled by a cat the size of a bowling ball, and two…yes, she was asking said cat for designer advice. She really had to get out of the office more often.
Cue some definitely head-meet-closet-door.

After her ‘meeting’ with Russell earlier that day, Helena had done her best to go about her business as normal. She’d returned to her clinic, wrapped up with some phone calls and chased down a few patients who hadn’t followed up. Then, around closing came she tended to the few Hunters who showed up with gashes and punctures. She’d been fine- albeit a bit distracted- until the grandfather clock in the waiting room had run its 6 o’clock song.

With a sigh, the doctor eyed her reflection in the mirror after giving her forehead a good rub. ”Really, Lena, it’s not like you’re going to marry the guy. Pick out an outfit and get your butt to Lucy’s before he thinks you’re not showing up.” Definitely words to get her motivated! Despite Atilla’s hairballs, she managed to pick out a suitable dress that didn’t make her look like she was going to a business meeting.

Fifteen minutes, some definite heel-hating and one calming mantra later, Helena was standing outside of Lucy’s, waiting for the bouncers to let her in. She scanned the crowd, and a slightly giddy feeling washed over her. Gah, when was the last time she’d actually made it out at night, she thought with a grin. A year? More than that? She definitely matched Russ’ previous description of late; she worked, stalked the more unruly patients on her roster to make sure they weren’t trying to kill themselves unnecessarily, and then went home to pass out. It wasn’t exactly an exciting life, but it was fulfilling nonetheless.

…As well as quite boring. But HA, she was in a bar! Meeting a friend! And maybe drinking! She was such a bad ass.

She rolled her eyes at herself with a snort, catching sight of a familiar face at the bar. Moving around various patrons looking for a good time, she made it over to him just as he coughed out his dislike for the drink under his fingers.

”You should’ve tried the Red Sunrise,” She said, sliding onto the booth next to him. ”It’s got mango juice in it and kind of tastes like you’re eating a fruit salad, but it’s addictive.”

Her grin widening, she turned to offer him a little wave. ”Hi! I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

[/blockquote]

[russ]

The lingering burn of alcohol clung to Russell’s throat, and he tried with all his might to focus on that rather than the nauseous feeling starting to grip him in the pit of his stomach. Drumming his fingers idly against the side of the table, in a musically disinclined rhythm that did not end up matching the quartet’s beat in the least, he tried everything short of obnoxiously bouncing his leg against the base of the table to distract himself. Even taking another drink of that god-awful dark shit in his glass. Nose feeling like it might melt off his face from the very smell, his face contorted again. But this time the burn spread further, and motivation was clear why this was the drink of preference for the inspiration to get it. With just a few gulps, it as sure to get the job done.

Unavoidably coughing again, he set the glass down rather aggressively with a clink; he was sure his eyes might pop out of their sockets this time and roll away across the floor. How lucky he was that they did not. Appreciatively shifting his gaze to a pair of legs that peripherally caught his attention, it slowly dawned on him that it was worth his effort to look up as they approached him directly. No man could fight the glimmer of a smile when he looked up and not only found that those legs were going to accompany him tonight, but the rest of his company was a vision as well. Without being auspiciously revealing, the simplicity of her dress had the satisfying give against her body of a bed sheet, as though only temporarily concealing her modesty. For a moment, he could not even register what she was saying, and it was probably good that he did not do the gentlemanly thing and try to rise to his feet to greet her. With his luck he would have knocked the table over or something.

As she slid in next to him, Helena’s distracted movements presented the opportunity for a flurry of stolen glances. Russell tried to cope with the overwhelming combination of attractive features, and he gave her an effectively blank stare when her little wave brought his attention to the fact that it was his cue to speak. [white]“What?” [/white]

That-a boy! What a dynamic conversationalist he was going to be tonight. He was going to have her on the edge of her seat with riveting dialogue, he could already tell.

Recovering with a bashful grin, he stared at the ever-absorbing table and shook his head. [white]“Oh, no. Not long. You look… well you look really…”[/white] Gesturing his hand towards her, as though this might offer her the compliment, he smacked down any chance of this ambiguous possibility by finishing with, [white]“dry. Here, let me get you a drink. What was it you liked again? Oh right, Red Sunset. Right, got it.”[/white] And before she could stop him, he was out of his seat like she had the black plague.

“Two Red Sunsets.” He told the barman, his body distracting him with a fresh outbreak of jitters.
“Sunrise is what I think you want.” The knowing tone made Russell look up.
“Oh, shit, right!” He exclaimed in realization of his mistake. Oh, he was sure to seem clever now.
“You want a cart with that?” The barman asked as he skillfully concocted an orange and red drink that instantly made the name clear.
“Huh?”
“For your jaw.” He set the two glasses on the counter and took Russell’s debit card to ring him up. “Try to roll your tongue back up and not slobber all over her, huh kid?”
Russell signed the receipt, as he uneasily wondered if this was the guy Helena knew. She hadn’t specified the owner’s gender, and he unnervingly wondered if he should take it easy on the drinks to avoid any later confrontation. But then… he was being painfully transparent for any onlooker’s scrutiny.

Returning to the table, Russell set the drinks down and grasped the one still taunting him with a last swallow. Now, he was sure he needed it. So he braved the poison and set the glass on the tray of a passing waitress. He spied her only with a glance, and fortunately it was indeed dirty dishes she was returning to the back. Sitting again, he was immediately aware that he was pinning down the loose edge of her dress. As much as a fellow hated to tear his leg away from brushing against her, he muttered an apology and scooted away slightly. Fortunately, he did this with a measure of casualty, one of few saving graces so far.

Turning the straw of his new drink towards him, Russell took a sip and was immediately pleased that Helena had allowed him the invitation in joining her with a feminine mixture. That really did go down like a fruit salad. [white] “Yeah, much better.”[/white] He nodded to himself, the sweet remedy curing his offended tongue.

[helena]

Helena hid a smile behind a dainty cough when she caught sight of the poor guy’s ‘enjoyment’ of his drink. Lucy’s was known for its strong liquor upon the customer’s request, and by the smell that was coming off of that tiny glass, it was a wonder why he wasn’t turning into a pile of goo at her feet. Whoof, talk about the smell of battery acid late at night. But it just wouldn’t do to giggle at a guy, now would it?

”Well, thank you,” She said, before he got up to leave. Okay, so she’d never been called that before…but she’d take it as a compliment. ”You’re looking very dashing yourself, there. If you’re not careful, you might just get attacked by the end of the night,”

She nodded at a group of women at the bar across the room, currently looking at her new friend like they’d love to take a bite out of him. Okay, so maybe it was a bit catty to raise a brow at them with a silent ‘don’t make me bite

[/i]you[/i]’ glare, but what the heck? If she was going to do a night out on the town, why not go all the way?

When he left to order their drinks, Helena leaned back and scanned the crowd, playing rhythmically tapping her fingers to the beat of the music. Gah, this was exciting! She hadn’t been out on the town in so long, that she absently wondered if it was like riding a bike. Glancing over to the little gaggle of ladies still drooling over Russ, she snorted and rolled her eyes. Okay, so maybe she also took a peek at his behind while he walked over to the bar, but at least she wasn’t salivating like the others.

With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the two men. The guy behind the bar definitely didn’t match the soft atmosphere, with his biker tats and muscles, but Lou was probably the nicest bartender around. He didn’t skimp on drinks, he didn’t steal from the owner, and he liked to walk ladies to their cars at closing time.

Well, that’s what she remembered from the last time she’d ventured out, however. But, given the playful way Lou was looking at Russell, it was obvious that he hadn’t changed. Poor Russ; Lou was probably busting his balls, just like he did to every new face in the bar.

When he returned with their drinks, she happily took a pull of the sweet liquor. The bar wasn’t as crowded as it normally was which she was thankful for, and a soft jazz song floated on the wind. Ah, wasn’t this nice! She’d never thought that a random break in the local park would result in meeting a good looking guy for drinks. Speaking of which…yes, she was going to keep her eyeballs glued to either a) his face, or b) the wall behind his head. Was she going to start babbling, like she had in the park? No! Was she going to turn into a beet and need water to put out the flaming cheeks? No! She bit back a grin as the mantra floated through her head, instead focusing on the present.

”Good!” She chirped, beaming. ”It’s my favorite drink in here. The hard liquor is good, but it’s too strong for me, y’know?” Pausing, she took another sip and popped one of the grapes sticking out of the glass rim into her mouth. ”So, how do you like the place? And did you go try out one of the haunted tours today?”

[/center][/blockquote]

[russ]

Russell was always good for a laugh, but it was decent of Helena to spare him the embarrassment of not doing so at his obvious dislike for hard alcohol. At least, not without a preliminary drink to get him started. The fact that he already had one in him and she was still managing to make him uneasy suggested how pathetic he might be acting if she had gotten there first. She did not help much by pointing out a group of woman that she perceived to be interested in him. He was quite sure that they were sooner laughing at him, not because of him. Even when someone was genuinely interested in him, he was usually oblivious about it. A woman would just about have to crawl into his lap, look him in the eye and tell him flat out I like you, and he’d still manage to convince himself that she didn’t really. While having an abundance of confidence to approach people with, very little of it trickled over into the affairs of love. Or infatuation, at the very least. It probably would have helped if he were at all aware of the silent exchange betwixt Helena and the women, who at least seemed to be enjoying themselves. Russ decided that they were certainly already a couple of drinks in. They seemed to be getting a little rambunctious.

Back to the table and mouth filled with something considerably more pleasant, Russell smiled about as coolly as a guy could over a woman’s drink. [white] “Oh, I don’t know…”[/white] He started, clearly going to try and play it off as though he would be drinking harder stuff, but settled on mumbling, [white]“Yeah, it’s got a kick.”[/white] She was privy to his display earlier, and there would be no pulling the wool over her eyes. He wasn’t sure why he was inclined to. She didn’t seem to care as much as women in the past about what he drank, or how he acted. It was relieving to say the least. Still, a healthy suck of the straw helped in that department.

Breaking his mouth away from the calming spirit, he looked at her and he became obnoxiously aware of his heart trying to claw its way up his throat with each steady beat. [white]“Yeah I like it. Loads of culture. I didn’t go on a haunted tour,” [/white] He used air quotes, as he did not believe in that sort of stuff, [white]“I usually try to avoid giving myself the chills.”[/white] He didn’t believe in it, but like Mark Twain, he was scared of spooks just the same. Giving a little laugh, [white]“I did most of the haunting, actually. I hung around that famous cemetery all day taking pictures. I should have brought my camera, I would have shown you.” [/white]A momentary desire, for it suddenly occurred to him how lame that would have been. Well… it was a good thing he didn’t. Besides, she’d probably seen the place a hundred times, and he was in no hurry to distract himself from her.

Grimacing the comment away, he glanced sideways at her. She was the highlight of his day for sure, and probably would be the entire stay. Now if only he was debonair enough to say something like that…

[helena]

Helena just smiled when Russ mentioned a certain ‘kick’ to their drinks. She’d had some definite stronger stuff in the past, but given that she went a little crazy when tipsy, she stuck to the fruitier drinks with less liquor. She didn’t really understand why he was doing his best to make a show of the level of batter acid-ness, but she let it slide. For all she knew, her younger years had made her immune to all booze, and all of her liquor-related taste buds had been killed a long time ago.

Yes, that would definitely be her luck. Oh well; at least the drink was fruity, and her company was divine!

Another grin slid onto her lips as he talked about the tours she’d suggested, amusement in her eyes at his air quotes. ”Well, before anything else, you have to go on at least one,” She declared, nibbling on a strawberry. ”Tell you what; we can go on one together sometime, because those tours scare the poo out of me as well?” A laugh escaped her as she remembered the last time a ‘zombie’ had jumped out at her. The poor guy probably still couldn’t hear certain sound pitches from the strength of her scream. ”It’s a rule, when you come to New Orleans; you have to experience a haunted tour.”

As if a the declaration would be set in stone, the doctor leaned back slightly with a teasing ‘you will follow my orders’ look on her face. Idly, she played with her drink, tracing the perspiration with her finger, until she drew a few funny faces on them.

At the mention of the city’s famous cemetery, she looked back up at him. ”Oh, that’s great! It’s actually another rule for visiting New Orleans; ‘thou shalt visit the St. Louis Cemetery.’ I still go there sometimes…it’s just so peaceful in a way that most places aren’t anymore.” She paused, ducking her head. ”And if that just sounds weird, I apologize.”

After a minute, she peeked back up at him with a sheepish look on her face. ”But anyway…what do you think of the city so far? A place to stick around in for a while?”

[/blockquote]

[russ]

For a few moments Russell focused intently on his drink. It was a hell of a lot easier to concentrate on what she was saying when her face wasn’t distracting him. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t acutely aware of what her lips looked like wrapping around a luscious, red strawberry. Having to gulp to ease the sudden nausea that overtook him again, Russell took another drink. The red half was nearly gone now, and he could feel that familiar tingle finally starting to spread warmth across his shoulders. He did his fair share of going out and having drinks, but one might think him a right drunk with the way he was so eagerly sucking down his drink. That Lou fellow would surely know the true case.

Not able to help himself, Russ looked up when she laughed. He tried to hide the overly satisfied grin when she went making further plans, pleased that he wasn’t turning her off so early on this ‘chance encounter’. Hopefully the smile would just be written off as a response to the New Orleans rule. He was about to jump on this offer like a fat kid being asked if he’d like the last piece of cake, but instead his eyes narrowed slightly at her playfully stern expression. Sucking in the corner of his mouth slightly, he was well aware that it was this edge that intrigued him so much about her. There was definitely something there. And if he had any doubts, her draw to a cemetery for peace certainly settled them. To give her credit, New Orleans did have amazing cemeteries. But what sort of woman found peace most readily with the deceased?

Smiling gently, he shook his head. [white]“How can I say anything when I spent so long there the dead were asking me to take up residence, eh?”[/white] He joked with a wink. Hand gripping a little tighter to the sweaty glass, he vaguely wondered if it wasn’t trying to tease him for being on the very same verge himself. Clearing his throat, [white]“That’s not to say I wouldn’t go back,”[/white] if it’s with you he thought, [white]“I might just have to stick around to properly absorb everything.”[/white] He nodded and focused on his drink to hide his apprehension in saying, [white]“But I think the locals have been my favourite…”[/white] Nerves shooting through his chest like fireworks on the forth of July as he looked back up, [white]“and the nightlife.”[/white]

Swallow. Deep breath. Look away. [white]“Anyway, I don’t gather you’re a travel agent.”[/white] At least he hoped not with saving limbs, [white]“What do you do when you’re not picking up tourists?” [/white]

[helena]

Okay, so cue some definite relief there. Helena felt herself slowly relaxing for the first time in a long time, mentally blowing out a breath when he admitted to haunting the cemeteries himself. Most people tended to take her little tongue-slips in stride, but to strangers, she did sometimes come off as a bit…strange. What normal person would sit in a cemetery when she was looking for solace? And a doctor, to boot!

But hey, she’d never claimed to be entirely normal.

Setting the green stem of her strawberry onto the napkin at her fingers- oh joy, she wasn’t tearing it apart; this was a good sign!- she started to play with the plastic sword in her drink. In order to stop herself from embracing her Babbling Idiot side, the doctor had been trying her best to only take a few short glances at her companion, when she wasn’t speaking to him. If she couldn’t manage that, she just might acknowledge the fact that the shirt he was wearing seemed to mold itself perfectly over a very nice looking body. Not to mention that his bedroom eyes were enough to make her choke on the grape she’d popped into her mouth, or that the sight of his easy smile had her brain keeling over into a dead faint.

…And, of course, when she acknowledged all of this, she could feel the beginnings of a blush creep along her ears. Oh poo; abort mission, abort mission! Focus on haunted cemeteries, Nicodeau, before you make the poor man run away screaming!

When he commented on the locals, she couldn’t help but turn a bit pink. Was he talking about her, or others that he’d met in the city? Gah, she really had to get out more, because her entendre-reading skills were way too rusty for their own good. Thank God for the turn of conversation.

”No, not a travel agent,” She agreed with a laugh. ”I’m afraid that I’m not stubborn enough for that. I’m actually a doctor; I own the ‘Round the Corner Clinic in Texas. I was just around the neighborhood to visit some family and take in the Louisiana air.” A dramatic shudder had her wincing when she thought of her current home town. ”I swear; the people in Texas are so nice, but the dry air is horrible.”

She leaned forward a bit to take another sip of her drink.

[/blockquote]

[russ]

Considering Helena was the only person he had effectively met in New Orleans (the only person he even tried meeting probably had a great deal to do with that), he was undoubtedly regarding her as the prime local of the city of jazz. What could it possibly have better to offer? He was already growing accustomed to her either 1) not understanding him or 2) casually dismissing the compliments with a very attractive air of grace, so it made saying such things considerably easier. Not effortless by any means, but easier to trust her not to make him look a right fool.

She was going to go right ahead and make him feel like a fool anyway. He could not blame her, as it was immediately obvious that it was unintentional, but his eyebrows fell into the naturally earnest linear structure that he had lifted them out of for interest of her answer. What she did professionally had been hanging on his mind since this morning. If he had known what the answer was going to be, he probably would not have asked. It explained a lot, but it certainly was crushing to the limited confidence he was displaying in her presence.

Her legs. That dress. Those eyes. Her charming smile and an alluring laugh that drew him in to forget what and where he was. A doctor. What made him in his right mind think he should be sitting across from a doctor? There had to be a downfall. And she was kind enough to show him.

Just when he cleverly finds a way to stay in New Orleans for a while longer, she goes and tells him she actually lives in Texas. He had just come from Texas! He had never backtracked in his adventures, and now he felt sickly disappointed that a part of him knew there would not be enough time to fully appreciate her company without a bittersweet good-bye. For it was easy leaving a person… when you knew they would stay right there for the day you would come back.

He tried to shake this feeling away, knowing he got too attached too ridiculously early. It was not the first time he had made this mistake. [white]“That’s certainly impressive.” [/white] There was a subtly bitter edge to his tone, despite meaning what he said. [white] “What made you choose Texas?”[/white] He asked distantly, not entirely caring. It was more of a, why Texas, and not somewhere I haven’t been? Somewhere he could accidentally run into her again. It was easy to accept reality when you were a dreamer, easy to pretend you didn’t miss people when you could vividly imagine a reunion.

[helena]

Ah, there it was; exactly what she was expecting when she told him what she did for a living. There was a faint flicker in his eyes, a twitch of his body that alerted her to his discomfort. Having dealt with all kinds of people in her profession, she prided herself on being able to read the subtle signs that a person showed…and Russ was definitely letting out some uncomfortable vibes. Had she said something wrong? Misunderstood another comment of his? Frustration shot through her briefly, as she shoved her straw into her mouth to keep herself from asking him outright.

Gah, she really was horrible at this stuff; the social networking and expressing herself without a life or death situation in front of her. Was he intimidated by her job? Some people tended to look at her like she was a super-nerd when the found out that she was a doctor. Had she said something wrong? Answered him in a way that he hadn’t wanted?

DARN, this stuff was just too hard! They should just skip the social niceties and get to the smooching already!

Helena bit back a surprised snort at the thought. Yeah, THERE was a plan that wouldn’t make the poor guy twitch in his seat. She would be adding sleep to her list of things to do…

Still playing with the little plastic sword in her hand, she was half tempted to challenge him to a duel, if only to bring that grin back onto his face. Probably too two year old…she relaxed slightly when he spoke again. Okay, questions she could definitely run with!

With another dramatic roll of her eyes, she leaned forward slightly. ”Truthfully? You can’t tell anyone else this, but…I moved for the cowboy hats. Nothing says ‘fun times’ than a big, white Stetson.” Leaning back with a laugh, she couldn’t help but flash him a teasing grin. She couldn’t very well tell him that she’d followed a large group of hunters down to Texas, and they were the reason why she opened up the Clinic, but perhaps humor would be a good leeway.

”What about you, Russ? What’s your story?”

[/blockquote]