Music Hath Charms

[Molly Quincannon] There are some things that it's not particularly beneficial or important to hide at this point, even with things as they are. Any watchers know Molly's car; they'd have seen Chuck and Molly together at least once (in dire sorts of straits, in fact). Molly's place is compromised, as is her car. Chuck's are not. Molly would prefer they stay that way. Therefore, she suggested, when suggesting the date, that Chuck make his way over to her place (losing any tail he might have in the process, but she doesn't have to say that) and have her drive them from there (losing any tail they might have picked up from there in the process, but she doesn't have to say that either). Thus it is that Chuck turns up at Molly's front door, which now bears a discreet but visible lightning bolt symbol - the universal symbol for "DANGER - HIGH VOLTAGE".

She'd have warned him of the security precautions. When he rings the doorbell, there's a pause, a buzz, and a *clunk* as the door unlocks; also a cry of "Come in!" from a well-hidden public address system. Inside stands Molly, in what is undeniably a Dalek dress (a bit sexy but not too extreme) and ... bandages on her upper left arm. Which she is steadfastly ignoring. "Heya."

[Chuck Carmichael] Chuck's eyes move directly to that bandage, but rather than pressing the issue he studies for any signs of serious damage that needs to be take care of right now (bleeding through bandages, odd angles or stiffness, that sort of thing) before moving to study her face (to make sure she's okay), and then the dress, which then gets a low whistle of appreciation.

"Yeah, I was right. Hawt." There's a grin, then, if somewhat subdued (so much has happened) as he steps closer and ducks to place a kiss on her cheek. "Hey. Pretty sure I'm not interesting enough to anyone to follow, but I was extra careful anyway."

It's amusing, perhaps, that he's chosen brown slacks, tweed jacket, white button down shirt and bow tie - or perhaps just exceptionally appropriate, in the end. Dalek, meet the Doctor.

[Molly Quincannon] Nothing needs to be taken care of RightNowThisSecond, no ... at least not to do with her arm. No odd angles, no stiffness, and no blood. There's a bit of reddened skin at the outer edges of the bandage that suggest burns, perhaps. As to the rest of her ... well, she looks a bit drawn, she's obviously still sleeping badly and any magical awareness engaged will pick up a lot of Entropy usage, a metric fucktonne of Forces use and the lingering after-effects of several Paradox slaps to the head. However, she's looking a bit less liable to lose it entirely, emotionally speaking. Or perhaps it's just the fatigue.

She smiles at the compliment and returns the kiss on the cheek. "Heh; thanks. I want to know how Natyana got my size so well." She spins around a little, then reaches up to tweak his bow tie. "You rock a bow tie so hard. Right. And if you're not interesting enough to follow, I'm pretty sure I can make sure we're a little hard to keep up with. Though..." Caution doesn't entirely suit her; it doesn't come naturally to her, but she's making the effort. Probably for him. "...maybe we should call a cab, or something? Encrypted line, convenience store on the corner?"

[Chuck Carmichael] There's caution, then there's paranoia; while Chuck is a firm believer in the former, he tends to think the latter leads to as much danger as a lack of any caution at all. Self-fulfilling prophecies and all that jazz - they happen in the tech world, too. "Bow ties are cool," is all he says initially, though there's a raised eyebrow at the rest.

(And of course he's interesting enough to follow, if one has the inclination - he's Uncanny, if not as much as he could be. He's everyone's friend. People seek him out for just that - the friendship and support that obviously comes with it.)

"I think . . . my car would do it, unless the mysteriousness of tonight is better suited to cabs from convenience stores. I mean, it's one thing to be careful, and another thing entirely to let them grind you down, and my car's just another dark coloured Fusion." There's a pause, then, and a hand on her shoulder and that smile - light and lift and all things pleasant about being close to another person. "Thank you, though. It's a good thing, trying to be careful."

[Molly Quincannon] She shrugs, grinning a bit sheepishly at that last. "Yeah, well, I'll find a balance eventually. I guess a cab might be easier, from a convenience store or not, but I guess," she adds, grin turning a bit impish and making her look more like herself than she has in nearly two weeks, "just giving directions and not letting you find out where we're going 'til we get there could be fun. So I'll play navigator."

With that, they're off. There's a bit of silence from Molly at first, a flash of resonance as she takes them in what is presumably a roundabout route away from her place, and then she starts giving more concrete direction. This may put them in the general area of the university, if Chuck's paying attention. Molly invites questions about their destination, but also brings up general 'state of the Quincannon' stuff. For instance, she's struck up a work-from-home arrangement with her company, which is going well. She can get work done at her own pace (fast) and have more time for her own projects while still getting paid what she did to commute and be bored.

[Chuck Carmichael] He's curious, of course - asks if it will involve a show, or food, or . . . but is mostly pleased enough to follow direction and share chatter about the changes to her professional status and his own (small raise for being willing and able to deal with problem customers, the OS nearly finished, improvements to his sonic screwdriver and so on). Basically, it's small talk, companionable and all in all, nice. It's a good thing, in a comfort food, wrapping up in a warm blanket kind of way.

"Sounds like things are going reasonably well, other than that," he says with a nod towards her arm. "I'm glad."

[Molly Quincannon] "Eh, Sleeper stuff is easy," says Molly with a sigh. "But the other stuff is ... complicated and generally painful. Still, it's not like I can complain. Sure, it hurts like a bitch, but maybe I'll eventually learn not to set that which grapples me on fire. And anyway, six people are alive and free today because I took a burn and a few reality beatings, at least in part. I think it's worth it. But thanks," she adds, putting her hand over his on the gear shift for a moment. She's got a lot better at tactility, too, since the day she barged into Best Buy, randomly hugged him and walked out without a word. "We'll have to compare sonic screwdrivers, at some point - I'm betting I put mine to different uses when mine's done. And left ... and stop!"

This brings them up in front of the David and Amy Fulton Recital Hall of the University of Chicago. Apparently, some aspiring (and geeky) music undergrads have commandeered the place for a recital of pieces from (or based on) various cult sci-fi and fantasy scores. Molly looks a little sheepish and hopeful as she says, "I thought dinner after. There's this place a few blocks over that does really awesome pizza."

[Chuck Carmichael] "You make me feel like an underachiever sometimes, you know." This is amused and a bit wry, but no less true for it; Chuck can count on one hand the times he's been in mortal danger, the times he's pushed in any sort of obvious way (to anyone outside of himself, at least), whereas for Molly, it's a matter of course. Different strokes for different folks and all that, but . . . well. It's a passing thing, and a comment done as he's pulling into a spot, grinning at the very idea of this particular way of spending an evening.

He steps out of his side and moves around to hers, the better to offer her a hand and bow her out, truly the Doctor for now, at least. "This'll be great, and so will pizza after. Thanks for thinking of it." Then, with a wider grin and a click of heels, "Alons-y!"

[Molly Quincannon] [[Stamina roll, for the hell of it.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] When he says he feels like an underachiever, she smiles a little at him and maybe she's about to say something, but they've pulled in now and he's the Doctor, and she's River Song in a very ironic outfit, so she takes his hand and allows him to hand her out. "Indeed," she says, and off they head to the concert.

The first half is mostly dedicated to the sci-fi end of things. Doctor Who and Torchwood music, an homage to the various Star Trek spin-offs, ET, Jurassic Park and, at the very end, a bit of a sing-along of the Firefly main theme. Then there's refreshments before the second 'act'; there's a bar but Molly sticks with coffee. Following on from the conversation left behind when they got out of the car, she says, quietly, "You help more than you think you do, y'know. Remember when I first got back, after ... that whole 'getting ganked' thing? And I said that you were helpful up here?" She taps her temple, then looks at her coffee. "Part of the second day was ... well, I asked you, once, what made you happy, and you asked me? Well, I went on with that. Added to the list, though the core was still there. I figured that if I ... changed? That stuff might not make me happy anymore. So the reminder was good."

He was, of course, on that list, and apparently still is. She doesn't outright say it, but it's fairly clear that that's how he helped 'up here'.

[Chuck Carmichael] "I do try," comes with a shrug, and it's not as self-deprecating as one might think - he knows who and what he is, and his current set of benefits and flaws. It doesn't bother him, most of the time, and when it does? He just works until the set changes, until he upgrades. Everyone has to do so sometimes, and their kind find it more challenging and thus more rewarding (or so he likes to think). "You're going to give me a big head, though. I mean, it's no small feat to be responsible for another's survival and well-being."

He's teasing, lightly, and puts an arm around her shoulders - the two of them together, obviously, though he's subtly watchful for the markers that mean he should back off. She's been more tactile since the day not so long ago that she walked in, hugged him and walked out, but Chuck is mindful of little so much as he is of boundaries. They're important, and firewalls were in existence long before computers, for a reason.

But then, more seriously, "That was still you. Sure, I was part of the conversation - maybe I prompted you to think about it. But it was you holding it together, and you who came out the other side. It's okay. I'm glad I helped in whatever capacity I did, but I know it was limited." At best, really.

[Molly Quincannon] The contact is actually helpful, or at least it seems to be. She snuggles into it, at any rate - the two of them together, obviously. But she does reach out and give him a light swat (though, because it's with her damaged left arm, she's careful about it and it can not only be seen coming a mile off, it's barely felt) on the arm. "Oh, shut up and take a little bit of credit, okay? Anything that added to that list was one more thing to get me through. I can do the work, but let me praise the guy who provided some of the tools, okay? And you could do with a bit of head-biggening. Sometimes. You can only brush aside the 'you're gorgeous and brilliant and awesome' for so long, you know."

Then she gives a bit of a shrug. "But enough of that. Just thought it bore saying, is all. There were little lights in the dark, s'all. Israel. Nat. Nathan. A few others. And you. It means a lot - not for anything you've done, maybe? But for being you, because you is awesome. So ... thanks."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Oh, I'm not brushing that aside. I am gorgeous, brilliant and awesome - but I could be more so. And I could be other things, too." It's wider then, that grin, and paired with him dipping to kiss her forehead just as the intermission end bell rings - then it's back to their seats, and Chuck keeps an arm around Molly as long as she wants it. He's good at it, really, providing that [security] stability, a basis for almost anything.

In their seats, just before the music starts again, he leans over and murmurs, "You're welcome. Here's hoping you don't end up in a situation where you need that kind of thing again, at least not any time soon." Because of course he doesn't like that she dives into danger - not any more than he likes it when Emily or Riley does.

[Molly Quincannon] [[Sta]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 5 (Failure at target 6)
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] [[nightmares?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 4 (Failure at target 8)
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] "...Here's hoping," she says to that last, before the music starts up. She can't promise him that she won't dive into danger. Sometimes (when there's a mage about to be killed by overzealous, too-knowledgeable Sleepers, for example, or some poor Sleepers are about to be sacrificed to some bit of Umbral nasty with pretensions) there's no other way. But at least she's been taking backup - or serving as backup - the last couple of times. It's got better.

The second half is given over entirely to video game music - various Final Fantasy bits and pieces, Dragon Age, Silent Hill and others, sticking to the atmospheric bits and pieces for the most part. As the set progresses, Chuck may note a slight weight on his shoulder, and on looking over, Molly's head is leaning against his shoulder, not so much in a 'snuggelz now plz' sort of way as... Well, she's in a comfortable spot with soothing music and a comforting [secure] presence, and she's been sleeping poorly for quite some time. Perhaps it's not surprising that she's dozed off.

It's also probably not surprising that, a little later, when the Silent Hill music kicks in, she stays asleep but twitches violently and starts shuddering. She's not screaming or anything, and only Chuck is liable to hear it when she gives a little whimper in her sleep, but ... well, there it is.

[Chuck Carmichael] The arm tightens around her and there's a light increase of that feeling about him (that security which is so much more than just a part of who he is) as he does his best to help ease the nightmares. Sleep is a necessary thing, and he's in no hurry to wake her, though as soon as the show's over, while everyone else is getting up to go, he'll do so. In the meantime, there's allowing her to relax as much as she can (and helping to do so as well) while listening to the music and fiddling with his 'berry in his free hand.

There's an app for everything.

[Molly Quincannon] There is, indeed an app for everything, and Molly does settle down with a quiet sigh, peacefully sleeping through the rest of the performance. She even sleeps through it when they switch to a rollicking, tongue-in-cheek rendition of that Zelda rap that came out in the mid-80s and move on to vaguely insane covers of Mario themes.

That's not to say that waking her up at the end of the performance is difficult, however ... unless it's the difficulty that comes from waking someone who apparently really needs the sleep. While she slept through the noise, a nudge and a murmur gets her moving (she's way better at waking up than he is), and she rubs her eyes and sits up. "Oh ... balls," she grumbles. "I'm sorry. What'd I miss? I didn't ... snore or anything, right?" She doesn't, in fact, snore - though there is an occasional breathy whistle that she makes when she sleeps that may qualify - but that's not all she's asking, really.

[Chuck Carmichael] And it's not all he's answering when he says, "I'd have woken you up a lot sooner if you had, and people would be looking at you a lot more strangely. You alright, and ready for some fresh air?" All of this calmly, and he's right - people would be looking at her more strangely, and he would have woken her up sooner. It hardly does to interrupt a performance (even of undergrad music students) with screaming nightmares or even loud snoring, after all.

"All you missed was the video game set. Final Fantasy, Silent Hill, Mario, Zelda, you know. Not bad at all! May have to see if we can catch another when you're better rested or something."

[Molly Quincannon] She still looks sheepish, but relieved that she didn't cause a scene or anything. "Thank you." Clearly, not for just the information and the assurance that he'd have woken her if she'd been in any way disruptive. "And I'm okay. Fresh air would probably be good, actually. Food, too. Potentially caffeine. And it sounds like I missed the best bits, which sucks. So catching another would be good. When I'm better rested. Or at least more highly caffeinated. So ... pizza? I just realised," she adds on their way out, "that I have no idea what you like on your pizza. This is a thing that should be rectified. Pizza toppings are as much a mark of personality as what algorithms you use when you code or your handwriting or something. So what do you like on your pizza?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Anything that isn't pork," he says with a smirk. "It makes pizza-getting difficult, sometimes, but most places have some kind of beef or chicken or turkey topping, these days. And if not, lots and lots of cheese and veggies. And sometimes anchovies or sardines. There's this place I used to go, all Hobbit themed, that had awesome beef sausage for their carnivore pizza."

He means Bilbo's, which she may or may not have heard of in her relatively short time here - he tends to be the one introducing people to these oddities, so it's quite possible she hasn't given that Chuck hasn't gone since March or so. At the car, he opens her door but doesn't hand her in, then moves around to his own side to drive; she'd said there's a pizza place close, but he doesn't know which one. (They're on a college campus. There are a plethora of pizza places close.) "Where are we headed?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Beef sausage, hmm? I thought there was a thing that you couldn't have milk and beef in the same ... or is that for serious kosher? Anyway, the place is called DaVinci's..."

So they end up at a little pizza parlour that boasts, rather than a cheesy faux-Italian decor, a sort of an ancient workshop feel, with examples of Leonardo DaVinci's work (artistic and scientific) on the walls. Their menu is diverse enough to deal with a fad-dieting college crowd, so Chuck shouldn't have any problems picking something out that he likes. Molly, for her part, seems to favour chicken, onions, mushrooms, green peppers, zucchini and pineapple chunks. Chat stays light (her last big WoW raid, Nat's finished tattoo, the finally finished modifications to her Wii) and, though she's still fairly obviously knackered, it's clear she's having a good time and hoping that Chuck is as well.

[Chuck Carmichael] "That's serious kosher. I had a friend growing up whose kitchen had two of everything, to keep the dairy from the meat, and so on. My family wasn't that strict about it, and I've been even less so since moving out for college. I also don't go to synagogue other than for Passover and Hanukkah - and only then if I remember on time. I missed the Seder this year."

And so chatter goes as they head for food, and yes, there's something Chuck can eat with his dietary restrictions - the menu goes so far as to include gluten free, vegan pizza at which he makes a face and asks, "What's the point?" before moving on. And yes, he is having fun, though exhaustion in his date doesn't worry him any less than blood and burns and the like. So, all told, it's a fairly early end to the night when he takes her home and offers to tuck her in and try to help her get some solid, relatively uninterrupted sleep.