I Took Your Pulse

[acontrollist]

It's raining. Christ. Why is it always bloody raining? 221B Baker street isn't a very appetizing place to spend the summer cooped up anyway but when it's raining-...

Of course, on the way to the store for some candy (and milk and jam. Her fathers must think there's a fairy in the house now for as little as they run out) to occupy herself, the wind blew her umbrella inside out and a cab splattered her with mud and really, candy, milk and jam aren't worth the horrible mess.

Her Papa is always giving her the stink eye for slamming the front door (he thinks she's going to give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack) but she thinks her current state is reason enough to do so. Plus, Mrs. Hudson is at bridge and her fathers are on a case, so it's not like he's here to know. Dropping her ruined umbrella in the tin, she sighs and tries to ring out her hair before heading upstairs. "God awful mess today was..." Her first time out in 3 days and she's gotten completely ruined. Fabulous.

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[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

The slam is kind of unexpected and Finn nearly drops the piece of bread he's buttering in his aunt's kitchen. He's moving to the door before he even realizes he's doing it. Today's been a little slow on excitement. He hears a lot of things down here on the first floor of 221 Baker Street. The sounds from the street, the comings and goings of the tenants, the music from upstairs... they threw him off the first day or two he'd been there. It was like living in some movie about New York, or he guessed London was a better fit, where things were always happening around him. It was kind of cool, but sometimes a little jarring.

He opens the door and looks out into the hallway where a girl is ringing out her hair. He can't quite make out her face, since it's turned away from him, but he can make out the mud splattered coat and put two and two together. A drop or two of mud fall from her coat to the floor and he steps out further into the hallway, knowing that his aunt is going to try to clean that up when she gets home and probably shouldn't be getting down that low with her hip.

"Still raining?" He asks lamely, trying to start conversation, at least until he can figure out how to clean that up without making her feel bad about it.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

The voice startles Rachel out of her grumblings and she jumps, one hand against her chest and the other slipping back behind herself to the doorknob, just in case. She knows no one is supposed to be home, and she hasn't talked to Mrs. Hudson lately (and the last time she had, there was no mention of guests), but either way with her father's line of work, she's come to be wary of strangers.

"Yes, quite. Who are you?" It's not polite or any kind of sweet talking aversion. It's right to the point. Why are you here? You don't belong in my space. No matter how cute you are.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

He's instantly sorry he hadn't given her a heads up, especially when she jumps and looks up at him, obviously startled. Especially when he sees how pretty she is, even when she's soaked.

"Uh, Finn," he said quickly, responding to the demand in her voice. It's only a second later he realizes this probably isn't a good enough explanation. "Finn Hudson. I'm spending the summer with my aunt." He points over his shoulder at the door of 221A.

Technically Mrs. Hudson is Finn's mother's mother's younger sister, but that seems like maybe it's a little too much information. Or not, considering the way she's looking at him. "Sorry if I scared you," he said.

Notifs are dead~ You should get on AIM.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She gives him another once over, sealing her guard up a little tighter when she finally actually sees him and how cute he is. This would be exactly how someone would try to get to her. Send a cute boy to the apartment when they know her fathers aren't home. Grab her, leave a ransom note, yadda yadda. It was one of the first scenarios she was taught to look out for: pretty, approachable people in places they shouldn't be.

Of course, Mrs. Hudson has mentioned a nephew her age several times. And now that Rachel thinks about it, he seems like a more mature version of the little boy in the picture in Mrs. Hudson's living room. "Rachel. Mrs. Hudson didn't mention that you were coming." She says instead. "When did you arrive, exactly?"

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Exactly?" He asked, wrinkling his nose as he thought about this. "Two days ago. I've sort of been hanging out here and watching TV on account of the rain."

He was bored out of his mind. He thought coming to England would be an exciting adventure and a way for him to forget about what was going on back in Lima, but really it had been worse. He didn't have his games, or even a TV of his own. And more often than like he ended up watching the things his aunt wanted to because he didn't want to be impolite and ask her to change the channel.

"Do you live upstairs?" He asked, suddenly remembering the madman he'd met on his arrival. Mrs. Hudson had talked about them of course, and she'd mentioned a Rachel but this wasn't what he'd been expecting. Actually, if he was honest he wasn't expecting any of this.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Well that explains why I have yet to meet you. I've been busy the past two days. Stuck upstairs, you know." She glances down at her feet then, finally noticing the mess she's making. "Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I should run up there and dry off. If Mrs. Hudson returns before I do, please don't let her touch the mess. It's my fault, I'll take care of it." She assures, before she heads up the stairs.

A second later, she comes back down. "And it was nice to meet you, Finn." Then she's gone again.

It's another 45 minutes before she finally comes back downstairs. Dry, wearing a nice, warm dress, hair pulled back.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

Finn's about to say it's his loss, but then again he thinks maybe that's not as smooth as it sounds in his head. Plus, she doesn't really give him time to say anything before she disappears up the stairs. He sighs and swallows down his disappointment, but is surprised when she emerges again a moment later.

"It was really nice to meet you too, Rachel," he calls after her, leaning forward on the toes of his feet as if it'll some how carry his voice more upstairs.

He's kind of given up hope that she's coming back down when she appears on the stairs again, looking neat and clean. He's sitting on the bottom step, listening to his iPod and, if he's honest with himself, holding out for a miracle. But then there she is and he smiles up at her, sliding his earphones out of his ear. "Hey."

He's cleaned up the mess himself. "I wasn't really doing anything important," he says slowly. "I figured I'd just take care of it myself." He swallows. "And it looks like it finally stopped raining."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Hello." She smiles, though it falls when she sees the mess is gone. She's almost positive he let Mrs. Hudson get to it before he speaks and she sets her hands on her hips. It was nice of him to clean it up, but now she feels bad for leaving a mess for him to take care of. "Well...thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

A cursory glance out of the glass on the doors lets her know that yes, it has stopped raining, though it isn't really any sunnier. "Wonderful. Maybe I'll go to the store after all, if it looks like it'll last..."

She spots his iPod then and wastes no time tucking the skirt of her dress underneath herself (though she doesn't need to. The A-line reaches just past her knees) and plopping down next to him. She's all up in his personal space now, peering over his arm at the iPod. Thankfully, she showered, so she smells like vanilla and strawberries instead of wet dog.

"What kind of iPod is that?" She still has the giant old one. First edition. Papa bought it for her, since Daddy didn't see why she needed one at all, but neither of them see why she needs an upgrade.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

He shrugs and grins up at her. "It's not a big deal. It wasn't really that bad. Nothing a towel and some Windex didn't pick up."

He's about to ask her if maybe she'd like some company when she's suddenly sitting beside him, the weight of her shoulder suddenly on his and the smell of her skin floating over him like some kind of cloud of awesome.

His mouth is suddenly a little dry when he tries to move his tongue to talk to her. "Uh, the new one," he says after a second. "Well, not the new new one, but the one before that. I mowed lawns all Summer last year to save up for it." He holds it out to her. "Do you have one?"

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Don't let Mrs. Hudson hear that. She'd positively skin you if she hears about you using anything other than Pledge on her hardwood." Rachel warns him, smiling back a little in spite of herself.

Personal boundaries aren't really Rachel's thing (understandable, of course, considering who raised her), and neither are social cues (once again, understandable), so she's not getting any of what's going on with Finn, too focused on the iPod.

She holds it the way one would hold an interesting specimen, turning it over and over in her hands and doing everything she can with it without disturbing his music. "The very first edition, yes. It's upstairs in my bag." She hands the iPod back and stands again, suddenly. "Would you like to see it? Surprisingly, not many people our age have ever seen one. It's quite rare nowadays, though it works just as well as the newer ones."

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

His mouth opens a little in surprise when Rachel advises him of his aunt's view on her hardwood. He didn't actually know that there was a right or a wrong way to do it. For a second he's afraid that she actually will be upset, but Rachel's small smile puts him at ease.

She's not really looking at it like other people would. Most people go straight for the music and start giving commentary. He can still hear Kurt saying there wasn't enough pop or showtunes for a member of the Glee Club. Instead it's like she's trying to figure how to take it apart, or something.

Then she's shoving it back into his hands and getting to her feet. He stands up as well, almost reflexively, afraid something's wrong. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah? I mean, yeah. I'd love to."

He steps up on the first stair after her. "I didn't even know there was a first edition." Okay, so that sounded dumb. Too bad he realized it after he said it. "I mean, you know that people actually use."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Come on, then." She nods up the stairs, starting up ahead of him. It doesn't occur to her that she probably shouldn't just lead people into her apartment that she doesn't really know. But Finn is technically family, considering her closeness to Mrs. Hudson and Papa's always telling her she should bring more friends home.

"I'm not quite sure where Papa got it either. I've never seen one in the stores when I've gone." She opens the door, leading him inside. Her bag is sitting in the living room and she kneels down, digging into it before crossing the room again to hand it over.

It's full of everything. Classical, opera, jazz, blues, Katy Perry, Amy Winehouse, Michael Buble, Anarbor, Disturbed, Barbra Streisand, Guns 'n Roses, Boyz II Men, 50 Cent. There's some soundtracks in there too. The Book of Mormon and Rent and Star Trek and Inception. There's some untitled tracks on there too. If he cares to play them, it'll sound like whatever he's been hearing through the ceiling at night. At least, the voice is the same.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

Finn follows her up the stairs easily, trying not to think too much about the way she moves. He's here to put girls behind him. Well, not like forever, but at least for a little while. After the whole thing with Quinn he's not exactly in a place where he should be looking at girls like that. Still, he is a guy, and a teen at that, it's pretty hard not to think about the fact that Rachel has a great body.

He follows her inside, but hesitates in the doorway as he glances around the apartment. It's a little crowded but awesome. His eyes land on the mantlepiece and his brow furrows a little bit. "Is that a skull?" he asks, pointing over at it.

He takes the Ipod from her and scrolls through it, taking in her music choice. It's not as easy to fly through as his is, but it's still pretty cool. He weighs hit in his hand and looks up at her. "That's pretty cool. You've got a lot of really awesome stuff in there. Some that I've never heard of too." His mouth curves up into a crooked smile. "I'm not a big fan of Streisand, at least."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

There's an elliptical in Rachel's room that Finn can thank for the view, then. Every morning at 6, she does a mile while she practices her runs and does vocal warm-ups. She's a little...extreme, to say the least. Even first thing in the morning. And with one father who basically lives off of biscuits, milk and jam and another who barely eats at all it's a wonder she's learned how to balance a proper meal. And then, of course. Ballet lessons, tap, modern dance, etc.

It doesn't even occur to her that a skull on her mantelpiece would be considered weird. "A friend of Daddy's." She explains as she hands over the iPod, stretching up onto her bare toes to watch him scroll through it.

"Thank you." She's not used to people complimenting her taste, to say the least. Most of the kids at school are listening to whatever's on the top 40 right now, and since Rachel's almost always exploring every type of music, it may occasionally take her a while to catch up. Kids are cruel in any continent, really. "My Aunt Harry is a fan. I adore her...Barbra, I mean. And my Aunt Harry, but I was specifically referring to Barbra." What seems like nervous rambling is...just the way she talks, actually.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

He doesn't really say anything about the skull because what can you say to that? Mr. Holmes seems pretty scary and it just occurs to Finn that he may not be cool with Finn in here alone with his daughter but then again it's not like they're doing anything. They're only talking and after two days of British daytime TV and constant rain he's got to say that he thinks this bright spot of his trip so far is definitely worth the risk.

He catches the faint smell of strawberries and vanilla as she leans towards him to watch him scroll through the list. "What are all these untitled tracks?" He grins over at her. "Are these your top secret tracks?"

He raises a teasing eyebrow, but the sound of the door slamming downstairs causes his hand to slip and press play. He processes the fact that it's his aunt and not the scary Mr. Holmes when he doesn't hear footsteps on the stairs. Familiar sounds are floating up from the tinny speakers and he also realizes that he's heard this song before at the same time. "Oh, I've heard this one. Who is it by?"

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Oh, they're-" But it's playing before she can explain and she finds herself blushing, just a bit. She's never been ashamed to show off her music before, but it's somehow different, knowing that now he knows that she listens to herself sing. "I was just practicing, is all. Daddy wrote me this aria and I want it perfect if I'm going to perform it next weekend..."

"Finn? Darling, are you up here?" Mrs. Hudson starts up the stairs a second later, smiling when she hears the music. "Hello Rachel! I see you're showing off again. Doesn't she have the most lovely voice, Finn?"

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Wait," Finn says, holding up her iPod in his hand and bringing the headphones up closer to his ear. "This is you?"

He wants to say more but his aunt's voice interrupts his train of thought. "Yeah," he says and he wouldn't have been able to hide how impressed he was at that moment even if he had wanted to.

He turns back to Rachel, his expression surprised. "I thought it was a CD or something. I mean, I never thought it was actually someone singing." He pauses and gives a small huff. "You're awesome."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She just nods, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Compliments are few and far between. Hell, people that actually talk to her are few and far between and it's nice than she wants to admit to hear that someone appreciates her other than her tutor, her Dads and Mrs. Hudson.

"Would you two like some tea? I can bring you some tea and cookies. It's about time you two spent some time with someone your own age." Mrs. Hudson pats Finn's back before heading downstairs again.

"..You can hear me? I'm terribly sorry." Considering that she knows she sings into the wee hours of the morning sometimes, she's sure that him being able to hear her means that she's keeping him up.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

Finn barely notices Mrs. Hudson as she heads back down the stairs, he's still so floored by the fact that the music floating down to him at night is live. He manages to say, "Yeah, that would be great." But by the time he gets it out it's a full minute after she's headed down the stairs.

"No, don't be," Finn says quickly, giving her a soft smile and nodding encouragingly. "It's nice." The fact was he'd spent the last two nights lying in Mrs. Hudson's guest bedroom/sewing room lying on a tiny twin bed and listening to the music from upstairs. It had been kinda comforting when he was so far away from home, a soft and sweet lullaby.

"So, you perform? Like professionally?"

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"I don't mean to keep you up, really. I forget, sometimes, that not everyone is an insomniac like Daddy." At this point, between the two of them, Watson's just invested in earplugs.

"Oh no, not really. My voice coach holds regular recitals to help us get used to an audience, but I don't receive payment or anything...at least not yet, anyway. My coach is from New York, you see, and she's been telling me a lot about Broadway and I've never been, but she says I'd be a natural on the stage. Or I could stay here and try to make it on the West End, but either way. I'd love to be professional some day."

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"You don't," Finn says quickly. "I mean, I'm a heavy sleeper. If anything, it kind of helps me fall asleep in a strange place." He pauses. "Not that this place is strange... or that you're boring." He swallows, his brow furrowing as his brain tells him to stop talking for a little bit. He presses his lips together and obeys.

Audience. It's the one word that stands out and before he can really think about boundaries or the fact that he's just met her he blurts out the question immediately on his mind. "Can I come? To your recital thingy?"

Because music has become a little bit of an obsession for him since Glee club. It's like he always knew it was there, but it wasn't until he actually tried to sing it himself that he realized how complicated and amazing it could be. And when he hears Rachel, even before he knew it was Rachel he was hearing, he feels that way about music even more. "I mean, if that's not weird for you."

"West End is like the London Broadway, right?" He asks, a little unsure. He's heard people talk about it on the television, but he hadn't really been paying attention before.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She's blushing, and she's not sure why. It could be because Finn's obviously embarrassed, when he really shouldn't be. It could be because she's flattered or because he's really cute when he thinks he's let his mouth get ahead of him. Her fingers twist together in front of her and she shrugs. "I know what you mean."

His request catches her off guard and she blinks for a second. No one's ever asked her that before. Usually, her Dads, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and occasionally her Uncle Mycroft just show up. No one's ever asked if they could come before. "I-...sure." She glances up at him through her eyelashes, hands itching for something to do now, smoothing down the sides of her dress while a tentative smile breaks out over her lips.

"That's right. Not as famous as the New York Broadway, but still quite nice. Daddy took me to see The Woman in Black last year." Mrs. Hudson calls for the both of them then, announcing that tea and cookies are served. "Well. I suppose we should head down there..."

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

He doesn't actually recognize her blushing for what it is, instead all he can really think is that she looks even more pretty when she does it. Which he shouldn't really be thinking, because of the whole not letting girls mess with his head rule he instituted a couple of months ago. But then again she hasn't really done anything, except been awesome, so he can't really hold that against her.

Plus, his resolve not to get interested kind of disappears when she looks up at him through her eyelashes like that. He can feel his mouth suddenly get dry as the realization hits him that he didn't really have a chance. He smiles widely at her. "Great, I can't wait."

He wonders if now is the tie he should mention the fact that he's part of Glee club, but decides to think better of it. He's nowhere near as good as she is and if she asks him to sing, which his mind thinks is a very big possibility, despite the awkwardness of expecting that other people start singing on demand, he doesn't want to be embarrassed.

He nods at the show title, though he has no idea what she's talking about. Maybe he can google it later, if he remembers. "Yeah, probably," he says, though he doesn't move immediately hesitant to let this small moment between them end.

He wants to tell her that he's really glad she's there and that his vacation suddenly looks a lot more interesting because of some mud. Instead he nods to the door. "Ladies first."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"No one's ever asked to come before." She says, before she can stop herself. But he just seems so excited and it's all she can think of to say. He's like a little puppy, honestly and she finds herself losing her brain to mouth filter (what little she has, anyway). Then he says he can't wait and her soft smile turns into a full blown grin for just a second before she manages to quell it. It doesn't matter who raised her, she's still a teenage girl. Starved for attention from her own demographic. "Thank you."

They both hesitate, even though the door behind them is wide open and less than 5 feet away. But he nods to the door and she nods back before heading downstairs into Mrs. Hudson's apartment.

There's two saucers of tea on the kitchen table, a plate of cookies in the middle and Mrs. Hudson is just crossing into the living room when Rachel and Finn enter. "Don't mind me, Darlings. I'm just going to catch up on a bit of telly. I'll stay out of your hair." Mrs. Hudson smiles, waving them both into the kitchen.

Rachel thanks her and heads into the kitchen to take a seat.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

Things feel a little different now that it's not just them any longer, but Finn can see his aunt from his seat at the kitchen table and she seems really engrossed in her show. At least he's not too worried about her listening in on their conversation. And the cookies on the table do look really good. Even if he doesn't really get why they like hot tea so much here. He likes his iced with lots of sugar.

"So, do you guys sing classical stuff?" He asks, breaking a cookie and putting half of it in his mouth. "Or, like, do you..." He stops, realizing he's talking with his mouth full. He swallows roughly and clears his throat, taking a sip of the tea. "Or do you like sing more contemporary stuff too?"

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She smiles over the rim of her tea cup as he flounders, torn between talking and manners. But she doesn't scold him (this time), instead sticking to his question. "My coach -- Priscilla -- she believes that every young ingenue must practice a wide range of music to hone their voice. She has us do a wide arrangement of things. But Daddy isn't a fan of more modern music. So I try to do something more classical at least once every recital."

There's sugar and cream on the table too, and after a sip, Rachel starts to spoon sugar and cream (but mostly sugar) into her cup before she stirs it in. "You know, I was born in America. But I haven't been back since I was an infant...is it terribly different than London?"

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"What's an ingenue?" He asks, his brow furrowing slightly as he watches her add sugar to her tea. It's a good idea and he follows suit when she's done. He adds a healthy amount of cream as well. Still, it's nowhere as good as iced tea.

He's in the process of chewing the other half of his cookie when her questions catches him off guard. He snorts, a crumb catching in his throat and causing him to half cough, half choke. It takes him a moment to recover. "Well, yeah," he says, giving a small laugh. "It's completely different. Things are really cramped here and loud and there's always things happening. Lima is just... " He pauses, not sure how much he should give away of his hometown. He doesn't want her to think he's boring. "Maybe big cities are a little more like London, but I wouldn't know. I've never really been to any of them. Unless you count flying out of Cleveland."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"A thespian. An artist. Actress slash performer such as myself." She explains, taking another sip of her tea. The fact that he asks for a definition, instead of scoffing and making fun of her for using "words that no one knows like a freak" make her smile. That, and the cute little confused look on his face.

"So you live in a small town, then?" She tilts her head a little. "You never hear much about the small towns. America's been slightly romanticized in that way, I believe. It's all about New York and Hollywood."

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, well Lima's nothing like New York or Hollywood," Finn says, giving a small shake of his head. "It'S..." He wasn't actually sure how to describe Lima. Especially in comparison to any of those places.

"It's a lot more spread out. Houses have yards and space between them. And people aren't really in such a hurry all the time. It's just slower, I guess, but not in the hick way. In the we can take our time and the world's not going to end kind of way."

Yeah, he sounded like some kind of country bumpkin. Next thing he knew she'd ask him if he listened to Country.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She's silent for a moment before she starts to speak again. "I've always found that mechanical cultures were much more fascinating than organic ones. There's something about being known by your heredity and the lack of absolute privacy that lends itself to both closer knit communities and the urge to pull away more."

Basically, Finn, she thinks it's cool you're from a small town.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," he says, giving her a crooked smile. He's not entirely sure what she just said, but it didn't sound that judgmental or condescending.

Whatever it was, it's probably time for a subject change. "I miss some of the food. I think I've gone to McDonalds once a week since I got here just because it reminds me of home."

He realized too late his aunt might be listening. He shoots a sideways glance over at her, but she still seems engrossed in her show. Still, he follows up quickly. "Though the food here is great."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"I haven't had McDonalds since I was 6." When Papa stopped sneaking her out there behind her Daddy's back after he found out that there were anti-foaming agents in the chicken nuggets. Why does chicken need an anti-foaming agent?

"What kind of food do you have back home that we don't have here?" They have pizza and hot dogs and McDonalds...Rachel doesn't know much about American culture, but aren't those staples?

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Six?" Finn repeats, looking surprised. He has it a couple of times a month. "Are you not into hamburgers?" Because clearly this is a travesty.

He shrugs. "I don't know, really. I mean I guess it's the same, but it's different here." Not that his culinary travels have taken him far. He hasn't ventured much outside of the immediate area, afraid that he'll get lost.

"I guess maybe I just kind of miss home." Which is humiliating to admit after only being here for two days and knowing how screwed up everything is back there. Not to mention that him coming here was his idea. Okay, well not his idea, but he'd volunteered for it.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"I've been a vegetarian for 4 years. So I suppose not." She shrugs, tilting her cup up for another sip. "But some of their ingredients are questionable at best anyway."

"That's not very descriptive at all." Rachel points out, taking a cookie to nibble at. "I'm sure there's a place somewhere around here that serves whatever it is you're missing."

"Of course you do. You've gone from one culture to another on an entirely different continent." She makes it seem almost obvious, as if assuming that he didn't miss home was idiotic.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Really?" He asks with genuine incredulity to his voice. He doesn't know any vegetarians, let alone really thought anyone could survive being one for four years. "So you just eat, like vegetables and nuts and things?" He gives her a small, teasing smile. "Like a rabbit?"

She's got him on the descriptive part. He isn't really sure what he means. Things just taste different here, though it's not that bad. "Yeah? What's your favorite place?" He asks.

Her statement makes him instantly feel better and he smiles at her over the table, relaxing a little. "Yeah. I mean, it takes some getting used to. But I like it here. It's pretty cool so far and I haven't even gone to do the tourist stuff yet."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Vegetables, nuts, eggs, dairy. There are a surprising amount of meat substitutes made of soy and such." She tells him. "Papa can't tell the difference, although he and Daddy eat so little that I usually prepare real meat for them. I can't trust them to take their supplements." The rabbit comment should offend her, but instead it makes her blush. "My Dads once solved a case about a glow in the dark rabbit..."

"There's a small restaurant right near the West End. They're wonderfully vegetarian friendly and their chef has been all over the world. The way he seasons and cooks isn't like anything I've ever tasted." She tells him. Honestly, Rachel can't remember the last time she went to that place and she suddenly really misses it.

"Well as someone who's lived here since they were a year old and doesn't subscribe to tourist traps, between you and me, the city is better without them. I suppose if you're only visiting for a week or two, it's nice to tour the big things but when you live here, you find that the city is much more than a pretty bridge, a giant clock and nice shopping." She doesn't seem offended that he mentioned the tourist traps, just stating a fact.

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

"Oh," he says, a little taken aback by the seriousness of her answer. He's never really thought about soy before. Though is face lights up at the mention of the rabbit. "A glow in the dark rabbit? That's awesome!"

"Really?" he asks when she talks about the restaurant. He's not going to lie, it sounds pretty amazing. Almost like all vegetables and soy or whatever could actually taste good. He kind of wants to try it. "Do you think you could take me there sometime? Or..." He gives her a small smile. "Maybe I can take you there sometime."

Okay, so he's sworn off girls, but this doesn't really count. He's just getting to know the neighbor girl, who is really talented and pretty and a vegetarian. "I bet," he says with a small nod. "If you have time, maybe you can show me the non-touristy stuff?" He sounds a little too hopeful in that question, but he's practically already asked her out, sort of, so there's really no shame in following it up with another request, right?

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"A murder mystery at a secret government facility. Turns out one of the scientists had done some genetic testing on her daughter's rabbit." Rachel explains. "Really, it's a long, complicated story and Daddy tells it much better."

...Did he just ask her out? Rachel turns bright red and takes another sip of her tea to try and hide her blush, but it only kind of helps. "I haven't been in ages." She says instead, sitting her cup down on it's saucer. "I'd quite like that."

Rachel doesn't have any experience with boys at all. They've never really paid any attention to her and even if she does notice them sometimes, she was raised to be of the opinion that sentimental attachments were liabilities and so she's supposed to try and avoid them as much as possible. Still, though. "When it stops raining, we'll go to the West End. There are some little shops that get overlooked by the tourists that are quite fascinating. And the restaurant, of course."

[limaquarterback.livejournal.com]

Finn's eyes widen even more at her explanation behind the glow in the dark rabbit. "Wow, seriously? That's even more awesome." He pauses at the mention of Daddy though. "Uh, is he the one witht he whale harpoon or whatever?" He really hopes not.

He smiles a little at the blush on her face, thinking if possible she looks even prettier with the added color in her cheeks. Any excuses he has to say that he's not going to get interested goes out the window when she says yes.

"I'd quite like that, too," he says, giving her a small grin before taking a sip of his tea.

OOC: We should probably start something new.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"It is pretty awesome." She laughs, nodding. "I love that story. He used to tell it to me before bed...a lot." The...whale...what? "The-...oh! Oh." Rachel starts laughing again, picking up another cookie. "Yes, that's Daddy. He can be a bit eccentric sometimes."

"I'll check the weather tonight." Her smile grows impossibly wider when he does the same and she leans her elbows against the table, sipping at her tea in the comfortable silence.