7773/Birthday Surprises

Birthday Surprises
Date of Scene:	10 September 2021
Location:	X-Factor Investigations
Synopsis:	Rachel takes Jamie out on a date, that isn't a date (or is it) for his birthday.
Cast of Characters:	Rachel Summers, Jamie Madrox

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Rachel Summers has posed:
It began innocent enough, really. It's Jamie Madrox's birthday, and Rachel offered to take him out to a nice establishment -on- his birthday. Which turned into Rachel stammering out, "You know, like on a ... a ... thing that two people go to. Thing." And for once, Rachel Summers, the powerful Prestige was at a loss for words.

After that embarrassing stumble, Rachel was left with the entire afternoon to get ready. Which took a LOT longer than she anticipated. Rachel contemplated calling Kitty, but didn't want to further humiliate herself. Should she wear something ...casual? ...comfortable? ...exotic? ...herself? ...leather? ...date like? ...slutty? ...leather? ...cocktail dress maybe?

By the time several hours had run past, Rachel's room was filled with clothing on the floor. Everywhere. On the floor. Some of which had been altered through Rachel's own telekinesis, others had been looked at and simply thrown to one side. It was a chaotic mixture of shirts, slacks, jeans, shorts, skirts, dresses and bodysuits.

The number of times that Rachel picked up the phone to call Kitty was ...too many to count. Yet, at the end of the day, Rachel decided on a nice, black leather sleeveless dress that skimmed across her frame, but wasn't too revealing - just tight. The dress ended just above her knees in a straight skirt that was simple, yet elegant, formal but not too much so. A cocktail dress that would, and should, turn heads at the very least.

With a clearing of her throat, Rachel descends the stairs to the X-Factor building and pauses at the base, casting her gaze around.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
A thing! A thing that two people go to. Together. *That* kind of thing. A... (if there was music playing, surely there would be ominous chord playing right about now) ...date? Of *course* Jamie said yes - he's no fool - but whereas Rachel has spent the majority of the afternoon debating what to wear and whether or not to call her best friend, Jamie has been having a set of crises of an alltogether different nature. That is, to say, he's spent the bulk of the day in his room talking with himselves about just what the significant of this date actually is and what it means.
"She didn't even say the word date," cautions one dupe, while another counters with, "She didn't have to, what else does a woman mean when she wants to go on 'a thing that two people go to'."
"It's our birthday, she's just being a good friend," offers a third.
"Good friends don't invite each other out for nice dinners on birthdays, they throw parties with lots of other friends."
"He's got a point. This is a bit more than just a friend thing."
"See? That's what I'm saying."
"But that's a good thing, right?"
"Well, yeah, but what if it really is just a friend thing and I think it's, you know, something more?"

At least six Jamies go back and forth exploring all angles of just how Rachel posed the question, the time that the two shared at Disneyland, the sudden kiss that Rachel sprung on Jamie previously, the fact that it was only on the cheek, the fact that it was a *kiss*, how Rachel remembered Jamie's birthday anyways, and just about everything else. It's a miracle that he even remembers to get dressed up *at all* for the event, but thankfully he pulls himself together (both figuratively and literally) in time so that when Rachel strides down the main staircase she is met with the sound of a slow, impressed whistle and an even more impressed tone of voice. "Hubba hubba, you look *great*."

The source of the voice, of course, is Jamie - just one of him - who is waiting in one of the lounge chairs of the X-Factor Investigations office wearing a smartly buttoned grey shirt with a starched collar and blue and green paisley tie, along with black pleated slacks, a crisp leather belt and fancy dark leather dress shoes. His hair is styled in a clean part to one side, his features spread into a wide grin underneath. "I was going to ask if wearing a tie was overdressing for the occasion but... I'm almost wondering if I should have rented a tuxedo."

Rachel Summers has posed:
If Rachel had known the great 'debate' that was going on with Jamie, she might have helped out a bit. At least in the fact, she meant a /DATE/ date, not just a dinner out for a birthday. Or did she? Hell. Rachel doesn't know, but she does know that she wants to have a fun night, and this includes having a handsome guy to have a great night with. At the 'hubba hubba' comment, the red-head offers a satisfied grin to her features. She chose right. Next time though, she's asking Kitty for help.

"You don't look too bad yourself." She offers with a wry expression to her features. "Shall we?" Rachel pauses only a moment to pick up a carefully sealed bag on her way out. It's a fairly large bag that has been taped tightly at the top.

An uber ride later, and Rachel and Jamie get out at a very nice Italian restaurant. The kind that has a line outside, boasts about even having a Michelin-Star to its name. (Rachel isn't sure what exactly that means, but does know it's supposed to be really good, right?) "I thought we might try this place, I've heard good things about it." Rachel offers to Jamie, collecting her bag before slipping her arm into the crook of Jamie's. "C'mon. Rules don't apply tonight."

Not pausing in line, Rachel moves towards the entrance, as she said, to hell with rules tonight. The hostess pauses, smiles, and gestures for the staff to let Rachel and Jamie in.

It isn't long before Rachel and Jamie are treated like celebraties, complete with their own small table, two glasses of (complimentary) wine, a menu, and a moments peace. Rachel lets out a soft breath, looking at the menu, before casting her gaze towards Jamie. "I.. hope you don't mind, but sometimes. . . . there are benefits to being a telepath."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Though he gives the taped and sealed bag a briefly suspicious look, Jamie says nothing aloud about it as he follows Rachel out to the called Uber. Though, both from his expression and his surface thoughts, it's likely pretty easy to tell that he's intrigued as to what the item could be, then realizes it's likely a birthday gift, and immediately becomes even *more* intrigued before doing his best to shove such thoughts aside until later in the evening. He's only partially successful, as every so often on the ride to the restaurant he'll give the bag a glance and try to determine the size and shape of whatever object(s) are hidden within. The rest of the time he's stealing glances at Rachel, especially her exposed arms and legs. Hey - he's only human!

One at the restaurant of choice, Jamie has little opportunity to think about anything else other than a) how busy the place is and b) how *ritzy* the place is. "Sure, I've heard good things too but this is the kind of place that you need to make reservations like, two years in advance," he begins, before Rachel makes her quip about rules not applying and takes Jamie by the arm to not only be promptly admitted to the front of the line, but given what appears to be the best table in the entire house and treated like royalty. Jamie seems quite surprised and confused by the turn of events, though as Rachel turns towards him and admits the use of telepathy it's as if a light bulb flares to life over his head. "Oh! Well - that makes a lot more sense then," he answers with what sounds to be a note of relief. "I was trying to figure out if you were still able to time travel and went back who knows how long to make the reservations or..." He shakes his head then, smiling. "But no, I don't mind at all. I mean, what's the harm, right? It's not like you're going to use your powers so that we don't have to pay or anything, right?" Jamie pauses then, suddenly concerned. "Er, we are going to pay, right?"

It's only then that he gets a look at the menu - and the prices therein - and his eyes widen. "Er, or, maybe a telepathic discount wouldn't be that bad of an idea..." he re-evalutates. "I don't even understand what half of this stuff is. Sounds tasty though... Um. What's puta... puttanesca? Or Speck? Should I be familiar with these? I knew I should be watching more Food Network..."

Rachel Summers has posed:
With a laugh, Rachel doesn't initially say anything, instead she settles back into her chair, idly plucking up the glass of wine to take a tenative sip, before setting it back down again. The bag has been covertly placed next to her chair, out of the way (and /mostly/ out of view).

"Yes, we're going to pay." She offers to begin with, "We're not criminals." A pause, "Well, this is my treat, so I mean, I'll pay for it. It's your birthday. I just happened to make them think we're famous, that's all. At the end of the day, they're not going to even remember WHICH famous individuals we were, just that they were visited by some."

"As far as what ... it is? I have no idea. Lets ask our friend, Mister Google." Perhaps Rachel has learned a trick or two about the world in the year and so she's been here.

A minute or two later, and Rachel's ordered an table appetizer for the two of them, as well as lasagna for two (she did ask Jamie if that was okay, first!) While waiting, now, for the food, Rachel pulls out the bag and hands it over to Jamie, "Happy Birthday, by the way."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Not that he was truly concerned about performing a dine and dash (psi-powered style - would that be 'eat and erase?' 'munch and mind-wipe?'), but Jamie does give a relieved grin at the note that yes, the bill will be settled properly at the end of dinner. Though as Rachel notes that she'll be picking up the tab, Jamie makes sure to offer, "I mean, I know it's my birthday but, I'm fully prepared to go dutch or... I mean. This place *is* kinda spendy," he notes again, though doesn't bring up the topic again as Rachel seems pretty adamant about treating him for his special day.

Then - deciphering the menu to figure out what to eat. "Oh, sure, *I* could Google it," he answer then, still grinning. "I thought you could like, use your telepathy to figure it out." Jamie is already withdrawing his own phone, findout that speck is a type of cured, lightly smoked ham and puttanesca is a tomato-based pasta sauce with, among other things, anchovies. "Hrm. Anchovies. Pass on that one..." he muses. Some of the other dishes look... adventurous, to say the least, so when Rachel offers the lasagna for two, Jamie is quick to agree. "Can't go wrong with lasagna..."

After the order is given and the wait begins for the table appetizer, it appears as it's time for Jamie to find out what's in the bag that Rachel has brought. His eyes light up as she withdraws the package from her side, as he had figured he'd be forced to wait until after the meal was over and the restaurant staff came out and sang some Italian version of Happy Birthday with a piece of tiramusu decked out with a candle. Thankfully, he's spared the wait at least. Time will tell about the song and candle.

"Thank you," Jamie answers with a smile as he takes the package, eyes meeting Rachel's before he begins the process of attempting to remove the tape before deciding that the bag itself is easier prey. Tearing through the material of the bag itself, Jamie starts to get a bit of a confused look on his face as he first pulls out what appears to be a fancy tobacco pipe, the type that has a full bend down from the mouth before turning back upwards again. He gives Rachel a clearly puzzled look, though doesn't yet say anything as there more yet in the bag - which, he silently hopes, will help to make the pipe make a little more sense. And on that account, Jamie is in clear luck as the next item pulled from the bag is a fully functioning magnifying glass, the lens well more than two inches across. At this, Jamie's expression shifts to a broad grin, especially as he can tell that the remaining item in the bag is large and a bit soft. His eyes gleam a bit towards Rachel now, before he reaches in and pulls out an unmistakeable deer-stalker hat, finely made and in classic style. It connects both the magnifying glass and the pipe perfectly and causes Jamie to let out a joyful laugh as he plops it on his head. "Yes! The game is afoot!" he declares then, hoisting up the magnifying glass in one hand and the pipe in the other, before placing the pipe in the corner of his mouth for effect. To his continued surprise and elation, the pipe doesn't taste like tobacco - but instead as he takes a mock puff through it, sends out a lazy stream of bubbles into the air. "I love it!" he nearly cries out, before a few glances from the nearest tables (and they're actually fairly far away!) causes him to laugh a little and lower his voice back down as he turns fully to Rachel. "Thank you, Rachel. Seriously, these are awesome. But I hope you realize I'm going to wear this hat on all of our cases from now on," he kids. Or, is he?

Rachel Summers has posed:
Watching (and if Rachel would admit it, listening to thoughts), the red-head can't help but grin at both the initial confusion and then the sudden pop of realization. If a light bulb could go off over Jamie's head, it just did.

"I'm glad you like it, Jamie. I wouldn't have bought it, if I wasn't prepared for it to be used on all cases." She intones then, her gaze catching and holding Jamie's - for maybe a bit too long. Eye to eye, casting across the dimly lit table, Rachel's mouth parts and just as she's about to say something, maybe, a little more - the appetizers come and the moment is broken.

After the appetizers, then the dinner is next, along with another glass of wine. The meal is - quite delicious, something that while Rachel's had before, it's never been quite THIS exquisite.

Once the meal is done, Rachel settles back into her chair, content to pluck up her glass and take a few sips before setting it back down. Her gaze flickers through the crowd, as a small band takes shape on a small stage with a dance floor in front of - and soon after, people begin to dance to the soft tunes.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Returning the look that is given to him, Jamie seems to be hanging on whatever it is that Rachel may be about to say, leaning in just some towards her when... just as if on some sort of sadistic cue, the appetizer arrives. The moment is gone, Jamie pulls back and is left to focus on the food and the atmosphere, as the appetizer is scarcely finished before the main entree arrives. To be truthful, however, the dinner is *good*. Not just the meal, but the service, the wine, even the tableware feels better in the mouth than regular, mere mortal forks and spoons it seems. Jamie has to admit, Rachel picked out a really nice place for dinner. Of course, being treated like celebrities doesn't hurt either.

As the meal winds down and the band and stage sets up, Jamie watches a few couples make their way to the makeshift dance floor before he turns to Rachel with a smile and twinkle in his eye. He has no idea if she knows how to dance - or, even what dancing *is* given what little he knows of her background - but he nonetheless reaches one hand out to her as he begins to raise upwards from his chair. "Pardon me, Miss Summers," he addresses her then, his tone one part mischevious, one part hopeful, "But would you do me the honor of sharing a dance with me?" And before the redhead can really have an opportunity to say no, Jamie's just about already tugging her out to the dance floor with the rest of the couples who are enjoying the live music.

Rachel Summers has posed:
Aaand before Rachel can say 'yes' (or no, not that she'd say no), even, she's somehow suddenly on the dance floor with one hand on Jamie's shoulder, and the other pausing on where to go next. Cheating, Rachel plucks up the thoughts of the other dancers and is then placing her other hand on Jamie's waist, a kind of 'two o'clock and 'nine o'clock' position.

Rachel doesn't really know the ins and outs of dancing, but she can read minds, and thus she knows that you're supposed to let the man lead (who the hell made up THAT rule??) and listen to the beat of the music.

With Jamie only being a couple inches taller than Rachel, the redhead is able to keep a fairly good eye lock with him, watching his motions, listening to his thoughts (she shouldn't do that, but she does), and when the music stops, Rachel takes a breath, mouth parting open. "Jamie..I really.."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
One of the many benefits of being able to make duplicates of oneself is being able to assign those duplicates to learning various skills, from the highly specialized to the completely mundane. While ballroom dancing falls somewhere decidedly in the middle of those extremes, it is indeed something that one of his many duplicates has spent time not only learning, but perfecting. At the time, Jamie thought that it may be a handy skill to have should he ever be recruited to become a secret agent, sent on high-profile missions to fancy galas where he'd need to wine and dine enemy spies before stealing all of their state secrets and making a daring escape to safety. Or, you know, something like that. But, as fate would have, that duplicate's long hours were not spent in vain and Jamie is able to acquit himself quite well out on the dance floor with Rachel, easily helping her along to make the experience of dancing as enjoyable as it should be for her, rather than frought with worries of, what do I do next?

The first song is a fairly lively one, a good pace that allows for that enjoyment and the movement on the dance floor with a partner without too many additional expectations. And it's a fairly lengthly song too, giving a fair amount of time to get as much fun as they can before the music stops and the band begins to prepare another song. It's just at that moment that Jamie open his mouth to tell Rachel how much he's been enjoying this evening, spending time with her... Well, just enjoying Rachel herself. He opens his mouth and at the same time that Rachel begins to speack, Jamie is also saying, "Rachel, I..."

Of course, only the first couple of words are managed before he stops, not wanting to speak overtop of Rachel - though he can't contain a small chuckle at the fact that they both tried speaking at exactly the same time. With, it might seem, the exact same kind of sentiment? "Sorry," he manages then, keeping his eyes on Rachel's. "You first." As he speaks, the band strikes up another tune - this one a much a piece at a much more relaxed piece that is clearly meant for slow dancing. A few of the other couples leave the dance floor at the shift, leaving only two other couples there with Jamie and Rachel, who, for the moment, are still standing in place as they look at each other.

Rachel Summers has posed:
Taking a few steps away from Jamie as the slower pace song begins, Rachel offers the warmth of a smile. The moment - it seems - has passed again, "I'm enjoying myself." She begins, perhaps there was more to say, and perhaps there wasn't, regardless, Rachel draws back to the table, then.

The rest of the evening there is quiet discussion on X-Factor, cases, Sherlock Holmes, and even Rachel's upcoming birthday, before the evening is done, and Rachel and Jamie are once again at the bottom of the stairs.

"Happy birthday, Jamie. I had a great night." Rachel's fingers idly brushing against Jamie's shoulder, an almost gentle pat, before she's slipping up the stairs, disappearing into her room beyond.

The night was perfect, well, almost perfect, and while there wasn't any real development between Jamie and Rachel, the red-head feels - good. Honestly. Really. Really good.