Owner	Pose
Robbie Reyes	As far as modest apartments go in Gotham, one could do better than the Reyes boys' little slice of home, but one could also do a whole lot worse. It's on one of the busier blocks in the thick of Chinatown; a mix of red brick masonry, steel and cluttered neon lights that advertise everything from budget hotels to mystery meat sales and bootleg electronics. The apartment's on the ground floor of an old rowhouse. The lobby's spartan but clean, and the only other resident around tonight is a harried looking young mother with her sleeping infant in one arm, trying to check the mailbox and occasionally eyeing the weather outside: cold and rainy. Phoebe's already been buzzed in, along with a couple of text messages: > come on in > Hope u like enchiladas and refried beans
Phoebe Beacon	>Luckily I love enchiladas and refried beans     >Hope you have hot sauce.     Phoebe had been worried about making a good first impression. There's a difference between leaving a care package outside a window and actually... being invited into their home.     She was wearing dark gray jeans with orange flowers emblazoned on the pockets, a well fitted tee under a leather jacket that's been patched up a couple of times, coming in through the front door and giving a small smile to the young mother, carrying a paper bag with her.     She wouldn't show up empty handed. That'd be rude.     And she goes to the Reyes apartment door and gives a knock.
Robbie Reyes	The mother smiles back hesitantly, like she isn't quite sure what to make of Phoebe's gesture. Then her child wakes up and begins to hiccup unhappily, and she snatches up her mail and hurries off up the stairs. The sound of thumping and a brief exchange of voices inside the apartment presages the door being swung open-- And Phoebe, greeted by a boy roughly her own age, in a wheelchair. Features wise, he's not quite the spitting image of Robbie; he doesn't have his older brother's leanness of form and motion, nor quite the same weight of the world in his tension-prone shoulders. No heavy sprinkling of freckles; and brown eyes rather than green. But the coffee-coloured skin, dark curls and dimples when he grins up at the girl are almost identical. "Hi! You must be Phoebe. Oh, sorry, c'mon in." He wheels back a foot or two to allow her inside. Robbie's visible in the kitchen that adjoins their spartan living space -- decorated with several potted plants, a worn but clean couch and a couple of comfy looking chairs, a kitchen table piled with textbooks -- in the process of rinsing his hands. "Be right there," he calls over.
Phoebe Beacon	There's enough of a similarity that Phoebe gets it. She gives a smile back to Gabe.     "I see my reputation precedes me," she jokes, "Nice to meet you in person Gabe. I've heard a lot about you." she smiles, holding the bag a little bit tighter as she steps inside, taking a look around the apartment from the inside.     ... such an odd way to think of things.     "Thanks for having me over -- hope you don't mind, I brought dessert." she holds up the paper bag "And your thermos back."
Robbie Reyes	It's not much *to* look at from the inside. They don't have a lot of space, but enough for two bedrooms, a bathroom and a small patio-- which is where most of the gardening appears to take place. During the warmer months, anyway. Currently it houses a stack of empty pots, a hibernating flower bed and a string of Christmas lights hung up on the fence waiting to be taken down for the season. "Mind? I never mind dessert." Gabe nudges the door shut behind her, and nods toward the kitchen. "I guess you can leave those there. Robbie?" "Yeah, be there in a sec." "Don't mind him," the younger boy explains. "He just does this when he's nervous because he likes someone. You wanna sit down?" The television's on, currently playing reruns of Star Trek while a bowl of tortilla chips and homemade guacamole sit on the coffee table.
Phoebe Beacon	The young lady stands awkwardly to the side, eyeballing Robbie's backside as he cleans up.     "Oh good, because these are some of my speciality cookies -- I've got cherry tye-dyes and some lemonade swirls and a plate of brownies from my -- ah... guardian." she has to set her mouth in a thin line because saying 'Bruce's Butler' is so weird, and no one's going to know Alfred.     "Hey Robbie." she gives him his own greeting with a smile as she sets the paper bag on a free section of the counter.     "So -- ooh, Trek. Marathoning the series?" she questions as she joins Gabe in the livingroom.
Robbie Reyes	Robbie's dressed.. well, per usual for him. Black jeans and a faded grey hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He's already done washing his hands; now he's taking food out of the oven, and fussing around in the fridge where the cold drinks are. In short: he's stalling like nobody's business. "Hey," he murmurs in return, shooting the bag a quick glance. Gabe's eyes grow wide at the list of cookies. He spots the pause on the word 'guardian' but refrains from asking about it. For the time being. "Yeah, Robbie said he'd never seen any of it, so I figured we'd start with TNG. What kind of shows do you like?"
Phoebe Beacon	"I don't watch a lot of TV, but every once in a while my friends will sit down and binge TNG or DS9. Or Lower Decks." she gives a small smile to Gabe as she leans against the arm of the couch rather than sitting down like a normal person, crossing her bicycle boot-clad feet at the ankles.     "Ah... sometimes we watch reruns of the dog shows, or old camp scifi. Doctor Who." she tilts her head back a moment "... true crime?"     Because everyone in Gotham watches True Crime like they don't get enough of it in their lives?     "How about you? I hear you're studying what, engineering? You watch a lot of nerdy shows like I do?"
Robbie Reyes	The couch lean is noted, and added perhaps to his rolodex of Known Facts about Phoebe. Then the smile makes a reappearance, and Gabe wheels over to find the remote so he can turn the tv down a couple of notches. "Yeah, I got started on that one. Lower Decks. Doctor Who? Shit, I love that show too--" "Watch your fuckin' language!" echoes from the kitchen. Gabe rolls his eyes and continues. "I should show you the poster I got signed by Peter Capaldi some time. But the 11th doctor's my favourite." Pausing, he pivots his chair slightly so he can watch Phoebe. "Mechanical Engineering, yeah. Are you in Uni, too?"
Phoebe Beacon	"Capaldi's cool, but the manic-barely-hiding-the-monster energy of Tennant was kinda my jam; I used to watch classic who with my dad when I was really little on PBS." she explains to Gabe.     "Yeah, I'm a freshman at Gotham University; undecided major but leaning heavily towards biology. I've already tested out of most of the basic requirements, so I can start looking at medical school in two years." Phoebe replies to Gabe, and she leeaaans over a moment looking to the kitchen.     "Do you need a hand with anything, Robbie?"
Robbie Reyes	Gabe snorts dramatically. "Yeah, you and everyone else," he remarks of Tennant's portrayal. "Oh yeah? Who's your favourite old timer? I've only seen a bit of, uhhh.." He thinks a moment. "The 7th? McCoy? Eeeeh." He wobbles his hand to indicate he wasn't too impressed. Robbie, meanwhile, is having himself a little panic attack in the kitchen while trying very much to look like he isn't. To wit: there's a rush of cold air into the apartment as he steps out onto the patio and lights up a cigarette. "Biology. Cool. You're gonna be a doctor, or what?" Gabe's looking at the girl like he's in awe of the fact his punk ass brother managed to bring home someone like her. Beauty *and* brains. She's also not twice his age! What's happening here?
Phoebe Beacon	"Yeah, the guys who ran the BBC hated Doctor Who during McCoy's era and just sucked the funding out of the show so half the effects were poor bluescreen an' cardboard." Phoebe gives a little grin, "So to continue to be a cult classic on a shoestring budget with fans willingly pretending the special effects are good? Not a bad run. But for classic Who? Tom Baker. Purely for K9. My dog's not nearly as artificially sarcasti--" she trails off, feeling the cool air on the back of her neck as Robbie steps out, "--tic..."     She shifts her weight a moment, undecided as to whether go out to check on Robbie or let him cool off a bit.     "Considerin' it. Wanted to go into Pediatrics when I was younger, and GP's keep better hours than ER doctors or some specialists... hey, is... he gonna be okay?" she asks, turning back to Gabe.
Robbie Reyes	"Never seen his run," Gabe admits with a sheepish smile that's full of dimples. He leans forward and reaches for a chip, scooping up a good amount of guacamole. The door opening draws his attention thataway for a good five seconds before he glances back to Phoebe. "He's fine. I think. Though he's not usually *this*.." He crunches on the chip while he considers the half-open door again. "Well, freaked out about girls coming over." The rest of the chip disappears, and he nearly chokes on it in order to hastily add, "Not that he invites a lot of girls over. I mean, there was Rien and then the redhead who I still think was casing the joint, but he said she had this thing with feet? And I never saw her again after that.." Okay, he's rambling. And now he's blushing. Look familiar? "C'mon, I'll go with you." He decides to just grab the whole bowl and balance it on his lap before wheeling toward the kitchen.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe also grabs a chip, and dips in the guac. It's precariously balanced pile of delicious items before she takes it in, and chews thoughtfully as she creases her nose a moment. Rien she knew about, and she tries to think about redheads with things with feet?     She knew so many dangerous redheaded women.     And as Gabe blushes and dimples, she gives a soft sound of approval. Yeah, she could see girls going crazy for Gabe.     "Oh good, love an adventuring party." she states, taking up the chips as she follows Gabe through the kitchen, to the half-opened door to the patio.     "Hey?"
Robbie Reyes	"Hey," is returned quietly from the other side, and the door's nudged open wider. It's raining cats and dogs out there, and Robbie's huddled under the overhang of roof and gutter, smoking like an absolute fiend from a clove he's trying to keep dry. "We were wondering if you needed a minute before you felt like being a civilised person with us," Gabe explains, positioning his wheelchair to one side of the open door while he watches his brother with obvious concern. The chips bowl is held up to Phoebe, questioningly. "Sorry, I-- I'm fine," the older Reyes boy mumbles. He pinches the bridge of his nose like he's staving off a headache. "Don't need a fuckin' intervention." "Language!" Gabe warns, then *crunch* as he bites into another chip.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe grabs a chip and dips into the guac, and then she leans casually against the doorframe, looking up to the rain as she monch a chip. "If this was an intervention, I would have brought cupcakes instead of sugar cookies."     "You need me to mind anything in the kitchen while you take a breather?" she inquires "... think I forgot my umbrella in the back of the car..." she adds in a soft murmur.
Robbie Reyes	"Your car? My car?" Robbie does that thing with his eyebrows, scrunching them together like when he's trying to puzzle something out. "..you don't drive a car, Phoebe. Do you?" He glances up at the grey and silvering sky, and exhales smoke steadily into the damp gloom. After a while of that not-silence of rain steadily hitting the flagstones, caroming off the gutter and hissing in the foliage of a couple of hardier wintering trees, "I don't know what's goin' on. What I'm thinking, going and--" He does not finish that thought. Gabe mouths to Phoebe, 'cold feet'.
Phoebe Beacon	"I don't drive a car, don't know how yet. I got a ride over from a family member." she explains quietly to Robbie, and she looks over to Gabe as he mouths the reason poor Robbie is stressing out, and she takes a breath, and she hands the other bowl she was holding to Gabe, who now has chips AND Guac, and she steps outside onto the patio with Robbie, her voice lowering a moment.     "Hey, it's okay Robbie. Just here for dinner, no pressure." she states, her hands worrying at one another as she looks up to the mismatched eyes.     "If we're not there yet, it's OK, I'll grab the bus and head back home and you can take time to relax without stressing out."
Robbie Reyes	Gabe falls quiet now, watching his big brother more than the pretty girl he brought home. Whatever other criticisms he might have about Robbie's (past) taste in women, he at least can't argue with the fact that they're almost always knock-outs. Except for that freaky redhead. And anyone who can out-freaky Robbie is.. best not thought about in any further detail than that. "You-- oh. I'll give you a ride home, then, okay?" Robbie promises in a warm, scratchy voice, gone slightly uneven with emotion. He's pivoted a little, shoulder smooshed against the outer wall, odd eyes fixed on Phoebe's. "You look fuckin' perfect. Like always." Now Gabe's smiling slowly, because his legs may not work but he sure ain't blind.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe's dark eyes were fixed on the mismatched set of Robbie's. "Yeah, you can give me a ride home if needed." Phoebe replies gently, and she reaches up, her fingers slowly approaching Robbie's jaw, and just slowly brushes her fingertips against him.     "Only look perfect 'cause the eyes that are looking at me belong to you." she states quietly, the shorter girl taking a breath, and holding it a moment.     "You going to be okay, or do we want to raincheck those enchiladas? I really kinda hope we don't raincheck those enchiladas, because they smell amazing and I had to be good and not eat any of the cookies on my way over. Or inhale the guac."
Robbie Reyes	He's perfectly still when she goes to touch him. Lean and hungry looking in the dark, with his curls plastered against his skull and rainwater dripping off the tip of his nose and chin; and the slightest of smiles as she speaks. "That's bullshit and you know it." She can feel the low rumble of his voice where her fingertips graze his damp jaw. And as for the enchiladas, they smell *amazing* simmering on top of the stove. There's a pot of mole sauce and another one of refried beans, which Gabe wheels over to switch off, and go fetch plates. Most everything is kept at a height he can manage-- minus the alcohol. "Naw. You came all the way over here." Robbie wants to touch her, but doesn't. Because for now, at least, he needs her to navigate. "Let's eat." He takes one more drag off his clove and puts it out in a standing ashtray someone must have installed just for his nicotine habit.
Phoebe Beacon	"It's not bullshit. They do smell amazing, and I'm starving." she jokes lightly, stepping in from the rain and finally discarding her outer jacket, showing the cream-colored tee beneath it as she takes out her phone, and types into it something real quickly before putting it back in her back pocket.     Robbie's phoe wuld ding with a message from her.     >You have permission to touch me, btw. FYI
Robbie Reyes	Robbie still looks exceedingly dubious. "You get that offa Hallmark card?" he grumbles, instantly wishing he hadn't yet put the clove out. He's still discombobulated, damn it, and now she's going to mistake his prickliness for disinterest and never want to see him again. "Gimme a hand with the food?" Gabe implores from the kitchen, where he's having some trouble figuring out how to get the casserole dish filled with hot, gooey enchiladas to the table. "I got it," Robbie calls back, ducking inside and pausing as his phone pings. A quick glance at the screen and then up at Phoebe. And on his way past her, he pauses to tip her chin up and.. simply nuzzle his nose against hers gently. No kiss; only tease. Then he's off to relieve his brother of the heavy tray of food, and earns an eyeroll as he hands out orders to fetch cutlery and glasses. "Whatcha want to drink?" Gabe wants to know. "We got.. beer, beer aaaaaand, never mind, that's also beer. Sparkling citrus water?"
Phoebe Beacon	"Does it sound good enough to be put on one? Maybe I could get a sec... th... additional job." Phoebe gives a purse of her lips as she recounts all the 'jobs' she currently has, and then gives a small shrug in thought, keeping to light-heartedness to balance Robbie's darker self.     -- though when Robbie pauses to read her message as she slips her phone back into her pocket to head in, brushing some of the rain off her jacket she gives a sound of surprise as he tilts her chin up, the smell of clove cigarette smoke and motor oil and leather and that whiff of burning cities that clings to him dances across her olfactories as he teases her.     And she just has the sweetest smile as he turns away.     She finally hangs her jacket up and comes back to the kitchen.     "Well, I can't have beer, so I guess sparkling citrus water it is... though sounds like that's not a normal citizen of your fridge?" she asks, the bridge of her nose crinkling in amusement.
Robbie Reyes	"Well, usually we've got milk or juice or something, but.." "..but you had your friends over, and finished it off, and I told you I wasn't doin' any grocery shopping till Sunday," Robbie finishes helpfully, after scooping mole sauce and refried beans into small bowls, which are added to the arrangement of hot food on the table. "In other words, yeah, the 'non alcoholic beverage' is for our 'guest', who ain't of 'legal drinking age'." Lots of fingerquotes there while he admires his handiwork. Then he goes to grab himself a beer and pop the cap off. He's dawdling again because nervous. Nervous about many things; not the least of which, whether she'll like his cooking.
Phoebe Beacon	"Well, between dinner and dessert, we can always hit up one of the bodegas and grab a half-gallon of milk. Brownies and cookies are good with beer, but they are better with milk." Phoebe suggests as she sits down, taking in the sights and smells of the table laden with Robbie's cooking. It smells amazing, and she looks like she might cry a little bit.     "Like the quotes around 'guest' there -- anticipating me hanging out more often?" she lilts at Robbie good-naturedly, giving a smile over to Gabe as she accepts the citrus fizzy water.
Robbie Reyes	"I'm down with that," Gabe puts in as he wheels over to the table with his own glass of.. sparkling citrus water. "We got one, like, practically next door." The face he makes suggests the drink's not *terrible*, but also not his first choice. "Not my fault you're both underage," Robbie fires back in response to that look from his brother. He waits for the other two to serve themselves food first, then holds his hand out for the spatula to scoop one, two, three into his own plate. The kid eats like a horse, though god only knows where he puts it all. "If you keep bringin' us cookies, then I sure as fuck do." "Language!" pipes up Gabe in an imitation of his older brother's voice.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe gives a slight grin. She helps herself to two enchiladas, some mole, and some refried beans, arranging everything on her plate a moment.     "Language!" she pipes up at the same time as Gabe, curling her feet under her chair a moment, taking a deep breath, and giving a happy sigh. Sure, she got home cooked food at Wayne Manor, but there's something different about having the World's Deadliest Butler making a three-course meal and someone you care about deeply making you comfort food.     "Keep making me food like this and I'll have to step up my cookie game."
Robbie Reyes	Ugh. Now they're ganging up on him. How did he not see this coming? At least Robbie has (barely) enough manners not to stick his tongue out at the dinner table. He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth to check out the girl seated across from him, and gauge whether or not she's enjoying his cooking. "Ain't tried to make it vegetarian before," he confides, and then takes a bite, chews and swallows. "So it's.. kind of an experiment." "Are you guys going to, like, have bake-offs or something?" Gabe wants to know, still casually ladling mole sauce over his enchiladas like it's going out of style. "Because that's giving me cavities just thinking about it."
Phoebe Beacon	"I dunno, those cookies he made me for Christmas were pretty spectacular. I had a very cozy Christmas night with hot chocolate and cinnamon cookies. I might have met my match." she gives a small smile, and she cuts up some of one enchilada, and forks it, lifting it to her mouth and taking a bite as she chews thoughtfully. Sweet potato, black bean. Garlic and onion, and that spiciness balanced by the sweet of the spud and the beans and the sauce.     She swallows, and takes a breath.     "... pretty freakin' great.' she decides with a grin, and she scoops up some refried beans on her next run.     "You can make these for me *anytime*."
Robbie Reyes	"Yeah, he seemed pretty serious about those," Gabe confides, shooting his brother a conspiratorial glance. "He must really like you. He doesn't make cookies for the other girls he brings ho--" "Hola, menso, callate." It's delivered with a scowl from Robbie and a zipping lips gesture. Though it's clear the two have a colourful history of playfighting without any real teeth or hard feelings. The younger girl simply gets a shy smile from him-- the same guy who walked into an alleyway not too long ago and beat the everloving shit out of some thugs who were hurting her. "So what else d'you like, Phoebe, besides geeky tv shows and baking?" Gabe asks after a thoughtful pause, spearing a cut of enchilada fairly *soaked* in mole.. and cramming it into his mouth. They're savages, both of them.
Phoebe Beacon	"It's all good. I normally don't go over any guy's house, but the cooking is a *deciding* factor." Phoebe explains to Gabe playfully, taking another bite of mole-beans-enchilada and giving a smile back over to Robbie as she chews.     She saw him beat the big guy down, and snap the neck of the gang member who stabbed him. Like nothing was even there. It rolls over in her mind a moment, and then gives a soft 'hmm?' to Gabe's question, and swallows.     "Ah... martial arts? I did Aikido for thirteen years, still do just once a week with my sensei though. Judo, planning a deep-dive trip into Capoeira. Read a lot of books, draw, I speak Elvish? How many geek points does that get me?" she grins.     "How about you guys?"
Robbie Reyes	Robbie's trying not to stare at their 'guest', but his attention roves her way a few times more than simple happenstance would account for. Does he tell her he likes her tee shirt, or does that just make it obvious he was looking at her boobs? Because he really, really was. Is. He clears his throat and drops his gaze as he digs back into his food. Gabe, meanwhile, is listening raptly as Phoebe elaborates on her erudite set of interests. "Robbie's making me take Aikido," he explains with a grin. "It's actually pretty fun. You must be *really* good at it after thirteen years, though." The Elvish gives him pause. "Seriously? Robbie, I think she's too good for you." Which earns a middle finger from the older Reyes boy. "I'm pretty into manga and anime. Mostly Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba right now." He flits a sidelong glance to Robbie, who doesn't say anything.
Phoebe Beacon	"It's not only really great for working your core and arms, but the self-defense aspect of Aikido works well with a lot of different hand-weapon disciplines. Are you considering taking any of those up once you've mastered the kata?" she asks conversationally, "And yeah, ah, before I left high school and started doing alternate schooling, before college, I helped instruct. My sensei's kinda like my badass fairy godmother for when I was younger; she taught me Japanese and we still talk bonsai and flower arrangement to help focus my temper." she gives a smile.     And then her ears get a little dark -- maybe she spotted where RObbie's eyes were looking, or maybe she just because she lets out:     "Robbie knows I like Sailor Moon. Any particular reason for Demon Slayer?"     And Phoebe looks at Robbie, following Gabe's sidelong glance, and then back at Gabe, her eyebrows rising up.
Robbie Reyes	"Ummm." Gabe scrapes his fingers awkwardly through his dark hair, which is considerably shorter and less inclined toward curling than his older brother's. But the nervous tic remains the same. "I dunno.." He trails off awkwardly. "He's not comfortable using weapons." This from Robbie, between mouthfuls of food. "Maybe he'll tell you about it some time. But it ain't my story to tell." Gabe's shoulders visibly relax, and he flashes an apologetic smile Phoebe's way. Then, "Oh, Demon Slayer? I liked it way before I learned that Robbie--" And he nearly chokes on his drink. Because maybe Phoebe doesn't know what his brother is. Talk about awkward. Neither boy seems to know how to break the awful silence-- until Robbie sputters, "Bonsai are great. There's, uh, there's a nursery. A bonsai nursery, I mean. Above the ramen place, a couple blocks away."
Phoebe Beacon	"It's OK -- I apologize. I didn't know." Phoebe states softly, and she pushes some food around her plate and then stuffs half an enchilada in her mouth at once to balance the awkward.     She finishes chewing, gives a swallow, and then quietly admits:     "I know, Gabe. That's... kind of how we met." she explains, her lips pursing a moment. "It's OK, you didn't spill anything I didn't already know about Robbie."     She turns, and gives a little smile to Robbie as well.     "A Bonsai nursery above a Ramen shop? Now that sounds like a date."
Robbie Reyes	Well, that changes things significantly. Now it's Gabe's turn to study Phoebe at length; though not so much the undressing her with his eyes that Robbie was up to a moment ago. This one's a measuring look, a mix of caution and admiration; Robbie's not the only overprotective brother here. This time though, Gabe doesn't have the heart to hassle his brother about scoring a date with the hot girl who bakes cookies and probably has, like, a black belt in aikido. He just polishes off his food, wheels his dishes to the sink, and socks the older boy affectionately in the shoulder on his way out. "Gotta crash. But nice meeting you, Phoebe." She gets a big grin with those trademark dimples, then goes to do just that. "He likes you," Robbie points out quietly, meeting her gaze across the table for a moment as he pokes at his food. "I gotta question for you, though."
Phoebe Beacon	"Nice to meet you, Gabe." Phoebe gives a smile to the retreating Reyes brother, and her eyes draw from Gabe's back to Robbie, still sitting with ehr at the table.     And he's now guarded about me knowing how we met." Phoebe trails a moment "I'm sure we'll talk a way around things." she adds softly, and she gives a smal smile, looking over to Robbie.     "What's your question?" she asks, finishing off her remaining enchilada, turning her dark gaze to look at him.
Robbie Reyes	"He'll be fine," Robbie assures, finishing off his own food, pushing to his feet, and collecting both of their dishes to bus them to the sink. As for the question, "We've been on like, two dates and you met my brother." Which is clearly a big deal to him. He keeps his back to her while scrubbing plates. Look, this is important work to do *right now*. "Do I get to call you my girlfriend yet?"
Phoebe Beacon	"Is that where you feel we are right now?" Phoebe questions, sounding a little amused at the question, and then she finishes her plate, and sets her dish to the side.     "You got a dish towel handy? I'll dry and put away if you tell me where everything goes." she offers with a small smile on her lips
Robbie Reyes	Welp, it's tomato time. Robbie shuts *right* up at that, and continues vigorously scrubbing plates like they did him wrong. "Sure, right here," he murmurs, nodding to the clean one draped over the oven handle. "Plates go up there on the left. Cutlery drawer's to your right. Glasses at the top." He flicks his gaze that way, realising she won't be able to reach without a step stool. "I can help you with those."
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe retrieves the towel, and offering a hand out, she takes the first dish she's handed, and dries it. Only polite after a very nice dinner with someone and his family.     "I thought it might be longer before you were comfortable using that term," she begins, and she raises her eyebrow sa moment "
Robbie Reyes	He's pretty efficient at washing the dishes. Out of necessity, perhaps, since they don't own a dishwasher. Each one is given a rinse before it's handed over. "Yeah. You're right. Forget I said anything. I.. don't know what I was fuckin' thinking." He pauses a moment with his hands in soapy water, then resumes the mindless busywork of cleaning cutlery. "This isn't the kind of thing I usually do." He sends her a sidelong glance, then looks away. "Getting to know a girl, hangin' out." He falls silent again, and switches the faucet on to rinse the last few utensils before holding them out.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe continues to dry plates and cutlery, the glasses having to go up are set aside as she considers her next words carefully.     "So... that means you're my boyfriend now. This isn't going to be awkward at all the next time Osprey and I patrol together." she jokes quietly, turning her gaze over to Robbie.
Robbie Reyes	"Phoebe." His forehead creases in a slight frown. "You don't-- let's just." Just what? "I mean, you ain't wrong. About not bein' sure if I'm comfortable with it." His hands drip onto the counter until he forces himself to dry them off on the thighs of his jeans. "I was just trying it on for size," he mumbles, and goes to pack up the leftover food. "You want me to send some of this home with you? Shit, Gabe went to bed before we got to your cookies." If his brother's lucky, there *might* be some left in the morning.
Phoebe Beacon	"You'll get a stomachache if you eat all those cookies and brownies my man." Phoebe muses, and sticks her tongue out. "All that sugar after those bomb enchiladas? You'll have those gross post-Halloween candy burps." she suggests as she dries the last dish he handed over to her, and she turns to follow him. "I'll take one, and some mole, but I'm going to have to bake like, frittes or something and send them back. Food wars." she jokes, considering her words as she sits back down, leaning her chin into her left hand, that encircling white tattoo on her wrist showing.     "I kinda got the idea that you don't bring a lot of girls home to meet Gabe that are... not... already involved heavily. With things." she states, and she purses her lip in thought, and worries a little, turning the bowl for the mole around a couple of times, clockwise.     "... I've never been over a guy I'm seeing's house for dinner, y'know. I mean, yeah, I technically lived in Red Robin's basement before I got moved to New York, but he'd already --" she taps her fingers on the table a moment, and she looks up at Robbie, dark eyes searching for the words.     "Do we have to put a label on it right now? Can we pick our own?"
Robbie Reyes	"I think you underestimate my constitution," Robbie fires back, over-enunciating the word 'constitution' like he's trying to emphasise the fact that he knows a big word. He goes to dig out another tupperware container, and slide not one, but two enchiladas into it. "I don't," he confirms, closing the lid and keeping his back to Phoebe. "Let them meet him, usually. No." He's quiet for a little while at her admission, and the questions that follow. And then, low-voiced, "I like things the way they are with us. Don't need a label. Don't know why I brought it up." He rakes his fingers through his hair a moment. "But I haven't-- haven't been seein' anyone else, since.." He trails off awkwardly. "Well, since I've been seein' you. So I guess there's that."
Phoebe Beacon	"I don't underestimate your constitution, I know how much sugar's in those things." Phoebe points out in a playful lilt, watching him, her eyes darting up to those fingers as he rakes through his hair.     "I like how things are going. You respect me, my wants, my time. I respect you, your wants, your time. And I'm *grateful* for your patience and respect with... everything." she draws her eyes back down to Robbie's face, and gives a smile "We talk things out. And sometimes get a little heated but we've never walked out on one another in anger at the end of the night." she states thoughtfully.     "There have been a couple other guys who liked me but... uh... one of them got handsy with me on an investigation he wasn't invited to and I threatened to shove him in a dryer." she wrinkles her nose, disapprovingly frowning.     "So thank you for not making me want to shove you in a dryer."
Robbie Reyes	The tupperware container's brought over to the table and set down in front of Phoebe, then the empty chair beside her (rather than opposite, where he was seated at dinner time) claimed with an exaggerated sprawl. "Well.." He reaches over to slide the container of cookies out of the bag, and then pop the lid so he can score one. "Now I'm awful curious." He meets her eyes with a cheeky quarter-smile at the corners of his own, and bites into it. "For what it's worth," he interjects, gesturing with the cookie remaining, "I've wanted to walk out a couple times." Then it's finished off, and he goes hunting for another. "Yeah? You need me to get him to knock it off?" And then he thinks to ask, "What about the other one?" Doesn't seem to be any real jealousy in his tone or manner. Plenty of curiosity though.
Phoebe Beacon	Robbie picks a Cherry Tye-Dye! This cookie is red, blue and yellow, swirled together. It smells strongly of cherry and almond with an undercurrent of sweet vanilla. They're sturdy cookies, and Phoebe has packed the tupperware container that had held his Christmas cookie offering to the gills with these and their companion Pink Lemonade cookies.     Phoebe leeeaaans over, and she pokes at his shoulder with a single index finger.     "But you didn't. I'm the one that has... and you saved my ass about five minutes later." she gently reminds him, and then crosses her arms and plucks up a cookie herself.     "No, we're not in really any circles. I think Gabby's kind of our only mutual, so I just avoid him." she explains, and she holds up the colorful cookie, turning it around as if inspecting it as she sets her chin on her arm.     "The other one's a little more complicated. He and I kinda do the supernatural investigation thing, though he's government and I'm 'freelancing'. I set some hard boundaries. I was already kinda... seeing you." she breaks off a piece of cookie, and pops it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I let him down gentle."
Robbie Reyes	While he's not so good with the words, it's pretty clear that he enjoys her baking; he's on his second Pink Lemonade by the time Phoebe goes to poke him. "What can I say," he murmurs, "it's a nice fuckin' ass." *crunch* Robbie watches her a moment at the explanation, inked fingers loitering above the container of cookies, then coming to rest atop the table between them. He's wearing the cuff she gave him for Christmas, which may not have been evident until this moment; the brushed titanium catches and absorbs rather than refracting light. "Well, if anything changes and you figure he needs a friendly reminder." His mouth quirks into a quick, unwholesome smile that fades almost as quickly as it arrived. "Complicated, huh? You want to see him, I don't mind. For the record." And he scores himself another cookie.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe looks over to Robbie, her eyebrows rising up as she tries not to show the uptick of the corner of her lips at the compliment. "Thanks, glad it's worth your efforts." she comments and sticks her tongue out at him again.     "He's seven feet tall and works for the government. That'll be Hell on the secret identity thing." she comments back at Robbie, and then she rubs the back of her neck.     "And like I said... I don't know if I could even handle two at once. I'm only now getting used to the idea of like... snuggling up to someone." she states, and then her nose wrinkles at a thought -- but the cuff catches her eye.     "Oh! You're wearing it! Does it feel good? I mean, it's not anything magic or anything, but it fits well and you like it?"
Robbie Reyes	"You keep that up," Robbie murmurs, dusting cookie crumbs off his lower lip with the pad of his thumb, then pointing to the stuck-out tongue, "and I'll show you just how nice I think it is, munequita." Is it a threat? A come-on? Both? That beer must have made him bolder than usual, tonight. "Sounds like you like him, at least-- no tryin' to change the subject, either." But he does hold up his hand and turn it over a couple of times to admire the ring. "Fits great and I love it," he corrects with a wink, leaning in to brush a kiss to the girl's cheek. "And I'm serious. You want to fuck other people, the only rule is you tell me who and when, and they make you feel good or I let Eli get creative with them." Pausing a moment, he adds, "Or if you want me to be jealous and possessive, we can do that, too. Might not like it as much, though."
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe gives a little grin, side-eyeing Robbie a moment as he delivers his threat, her eyebrows rising up as she tucks her chin back into her arm, looking up to Robbie -- and she gives a moment's shrug at the idea of liking the other guy, and was about to comment when he brushes a kiss to her cheek. She's wrinkling her nose, scrunching it up as she tilts her head forward and hides her cute levels of embarrassment and goes 'It looks good on you, good job me'-- and then what he said hits her. And she coughs a moment, sitting up straight with a "Robbie!"     And she sputters. She blinks and then just sort of seems to shrink down a little.     "That's... not what I'm interested in at just this moment!" she protests, though it's a good thing she wasn't eating anything or she would have choked.     "If... if it ever comes up we can discuss but yeah, just... just the one at the moment, and we're not even..." she states, motioning between her and Robbie, and then she just gives a soft graon and sinks her head back into her arms.     "Good thing your brother's not here or I might just die. Will the floor to open up, drop down."
Robbie Reyes	The procession from sweet, to cute, to mortified, to.. upset? and back to mortified again leaves Robbie trying to make sense of everything half a step behind. "Not even what?" he wonders, expression gone uncertain. Then he snorts and slouches back in his seat, getting out of her space. "Like I'd talk about this shit in front of my brother. He sleeps like a baby, promise." His mind seems to drift elsewhere for a moment, to parts unknown. Then, "Need a ride home?"
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe does wear her emotions on her sleeve around Robbie.     She takes a breath, and then just smiles, looking over at Robbie as he slouches, and she looks towards the direction of Gabe's door, and then she places some of her body weight on her arms on the table, and pushes her chair to the corner, closer to Robbie.     "We're not physically intimate yet, let me climb one mountain before I start on another one. You said you had a whole lot of ideas. I'm excited to try them." she replies to him, and then just... leans her head a little against his shoulder. "Munequita... that's doll, right?" she asks, "I like it."
Robbie Reyes	Yeah, real smooth, Reyes. Nothing lets a girl know you're into her more than pushing her at some other guy. He tips his head way back until his adam's apple protrudes sharply against his throat, scraping his fingers over his face, and up into his hair with a groan. When Phoebe speaks again, he drops his hands and.. stills as she leans against him. How to respond? "Yeah. You got it." He starts to reach for her knee, then doesn't. "Little doll. And I don't-- I don't want you to think I got a checklist of shit planned. I just-- hey, I'm sorry, Phoebe." Fleeing's tough when you're in your own damn kitchen.
Phoebe Beacon	She moves her hand, her fingers curling against the one that had been reaching for her knee.     "You'd better not have a checklist. That's way too organized." she jokes, and her breath draws up, her gaze coming up to look up at Robbie, her cheek still against his shoulder.     "This is new ground for both of us, and it sucks every time there's' a pothole or speedbump" she states, straighting up slightly so that her chin is now on Robbie's shoulder, her eyebrows drawing up.     "You gonna be okay to drive me home? I can find my own way if you wanna just relax."
Robbie Reyes	"Yeah," he agrees softly, absently. He's silent a long moment while those troubling thoughts continue to rattle around in his head. Then, "Of course I'll be okay," he mumbles. "Ain't leaving you to make your own way home so I can sit here and feel like a fuckin' idiot." Her hand's squeezed gently, and then he turns and pushes to his feet so he can go grab his jacket. "C'mon. Your chariot awaits."