Angel and Mulberry's 1st Date

Angel couldn't really remember the last time she had felt this nervous. Maybe, when she thought about it, when it had been back in medical school and it had been the finals. They were supposed to operate on a patient (a doll in this case) and flat lining meant you had failed, depending on what the patient suffered from.

Angel remembered how she had nearly panicked when the patient had flat lined at once on her turn. It turned out the teaching doctors had decided to pull a prank on the students to make them "loosen up". In a way, she supposed now, it had helped. Back then, she had almost cried.

'Well... Better do my best not to burst into tears.' Angel thought to herself. 'That would make things awkward.'

If things did go horribly wrong, at least Angel wasn't alone in all this. Mulberry had shown up outside the restaurant--the location of which he nearly forgot to call and tell Angel the day before--an hour early for fear of losing track of time. And then it had started to drizzle. That light kind of rain that seeks out people in brand new evening wear just so it can ruin their hard preparation and then vanish, leaving prom dates, boyfriends, and friends soaked when their perfectly dry dates showed up.

Luckily, one of the men at the restaurant's front desk took pity on Mul after just a few minutes and spared him an umbrella when he refused to come inside. Thus, he was left five minutes before the agreed upon time with an umbrella in hand, hair cold from the light rain, and the bottoms of his pants damp on his ankles, sending small nervous chills up his spine as he waited.

Angel arrived a few minutes before the agreed time. When she saw Mulberry, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor man. As he stood there in the rain, with his hair and ankles damp, Angel thought he pretty much resembled a puppy someone had put outside.

"Mulberry?" She called, hurrying up to him. "I'm here now, I hope you didn't wait for too long!"

"Hmm? Never too long." Mulberry assured, avoiding admitting to any actual time of arrival. "The weather was just keeping me company while I waited, as you can see. Apparently it didn't like my ensemble any more than my housemate approved of my tie."

Angel couldn't help but frown. "Your feet look like they're *drenched*." She said. "Let's get out of the rain, shall we?"

"That sounds like an inspired idea." Mulberry agreed, holding the door for Angel so they could slip inside.

The lighting was soft from tabletop candles, and the decor rich with burgundy upholstery and dark walnut wood. Waiters and the smell of an Italian kitchen in full gear passed in and out of the arched entry separating cooks from diners.

"Table for two? And a towel?" The man at the counter asked, accepting the borrowed umbrella from Mulberry.

"I might need two towels." Mul corrected.

"Of course. Let's set you up back here, and if you'd like to kick your shoes off, I can set them to dry in back. The kitchen is warmer, and they'll be ready before you have to leave.

Mulberry wiggled his toes, and noted that an inch or two of water and possibly a fish seemed to have gotten in. "That sounds fantastic."

Angel bit her lower lip to keep back a giggle. She herself had her coat and umbrella set to the side, before they were seated.

"So." She said. "This looks nice."

"Been here a few times. It's family run if you didn't already notice the fact that all the waiters are at least vaguely similar in appearance." Mul pointed out discreetly. "Means they make all their food the way their mamas have taught it, rather than selling out and going with all that big food chain nonsense people always complain about. I just love the Alfredo, personally. Hard to find anyone that makes it the way the head chef does."

The waiter had taken Mul's shoes when he unlaced them and carefully handed them over. The sound of water sloshing in the toes was distinct. "I think these will need a trip to the sink first." The man laughed. "Why don't you tell me the drinks you want, and I'll have one of my several brothers, sisters, or cousins get it." He poked fun at Mulberry.

Angel couldn't help a giggle at the waiter this time. "I almost wish I could say I knew how it is." She said. "My mother owns... owned a pub. She let my older siblings go for what they wanted to do, but she always pushed my sister into learning. Me, I just followed along, because learning other things never hurt."

The waiter looked like he wanted to answer, but gestured to Mul instead. "She's your date. You talk to her." He teased before heading for the kitchen.

Mulberry nodded awkwardly. "Now what's all this about your mother?"

"Nothing too grand." Angel said. "Let's just say she... was not the kind of person who understood priority that well. She didn't like that my sister, Lilac, wanted to be a cop, and always tried pushing her into getting a more 'safe job', in this case running the pub. She passed away a few days ago. She left the pub to my sister. Once the papers are in place, Lilac is going to try and sell it."

"Ah...is she Texan too? Because two doses of Texan would explain a lot about your sister." Mulberry noted.

"Worse. Irish."

Mulberry gave her a sympathy wince. "That explains even more. Although I do have to wonder why she would think a job at a pub would be safer than being a cop. I've seen some impressive bar fights." he snorted.

"Well..." Angel shrugged. "I think it mostly had to do with our father. He's a Texas Ranger, and mother was never fond of the long hours he had sometimes. Lilac is more similar to him than to our mother, which I think she has always hated, for some ridiculous reason."

"Maybe because it's hard enough worrying about him coming home each night. She didn't need to be worrying about the both of them? Or, she's just a stubborn Irish woman."

"Spiteful is more like it." Angel said. "Sometimes considered insane..." She stopped herself and sighed. "I'm sorry, I always set off myself when I'm talking family."

"Well, it sounds like it's been bottled up for a while, and you've had some good reasons to be stressed out. You have to admit to feeling a little better, right?" Mul offered. "And on the bright side, you don't have to try and introduce me to her. That would probably go horribly wrong with my luck."

"Oh she would have loved you." Angel said. "And then she would have asked if you had proposed yet, and gone on from there to ask when the wedding is, if I'm pregnant, and finally to 'where do you live so I can come by and see my grandchildren?'."

"See, this is where things would go horribly wrong. Because I would be unable to resist telling her we've both realized we're homosexual, and agreed to marry for the benefits and have consensual gay affairs."

Angel stared for a second and then burst out laughing. "Oh good lord, if she hadn't already passed away from a stroke, she would do so right there!"

"Oh, well you laugh now. If any of my coworkers had heard that, I'd be getting propositions right now. Half the spies around here seem of the opinion I'm either closeted, or a challenge." Mulberry snorted. "Apparently straight men are a rare and dying breed."

"Amen to that." A new waitress muttered as she set water and ordered drinks on the table. "I swear, the gays are color-coded around here. If a man's pants, shirt, and jacket match, don't even bother."

Angel's laugh turned into a heavy coughing at that. "Pardon.." She said with a giggle, when she managed to get a bit more control of herself. "And... Not necessarily. It depends on which coworkers we're talking about, of course. Most of the other Purples are in good relationships and they don't really bother anyone else. Especially if they aren't their... well, type."

"You should probably drink some water," Mulberry advised before continuing. "They still proposition, just to test and see I think, or they offer to set me up with someone. I'm just thankful they haven't stepped up their game to gag gifts yet. I'd have to go borrow a slingshot from Switch and start "returning" the gifts."

Angel giggled at that. "Oh dear, I'm reminded by something Lilac once told me... She went to Black to meet with Murphy, and one of the others, Frosty, had gotten... well, quite a large dildo as a sort of 'flirt gift'."

"I'm beginning to think a requirement of being a field agent is lack of social skills." Mulberry snorted. "A few of us just get the requirement waived. What happened to Frosty's suitor, if I may ask?"

"Well.. He finally got the hint, after Frosty kicked him in a very sensitive place with steel toed boots."

Mulberry winced harder this time. "Well, there are worse ways to learn, I suppose. But still. Ow."

"Could have been worse than that." Angel said. "Frosty's lover, I hear, is very *very* protective."

Mulberry nodded. "I suspect the man suffered worse than a good kicking. We just only know about that particular bit of violence. I mean, have you seen or heard from this guy at all since?"

Angel thought about that for a long moment. "Now that you mention it... I don't think so." She said. "But then, he could have just gotten a transfer."

"I suppose. Although I wouldn't keep that guy around if he were my agent."

"You ready to order?" The waiter had returned with a notepad. He laughed when Mulberry looked at him abash, clearly having forgotten the menus in front of them altogether. "I can give you a few more minutes."

"I think I'd like to try the Alfredo." Angel said with a smile. "Since you recommended it." She added to Mul.

"Yes ma'am. I can also add chicken or shrimp if you'd like." The waiter added helpfully.

"I'll go with chicken, please."

"Yes ma'am." The waiter took a quick note. "And you?" He tilted the end of his pen in Mul's direction.

"I don't think I've had the Manicotti crepes yet. I'd like to try that."

"All right. And did you want to order dessert to be brought out later, or see how you feel after dinner?"

"Might as well order it now. We can always take it to go if we're full." Mul decided. "I think two slices of Zuccotto would be just right."

Angel nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me." She said with a pleasant smile at the waiter. "Thank you."

"So," Mul waited until their server had left, "now that we know we aren't going to starve, what to talk about next." He thought on it a moment. "I think I'd enjoy hearing why you chose to go into this line of work."

Angel chuckled. "It's a bit of a long story." She said. "But I'll see what I can do."

With that, she told of how she had been working at the General Hospital for a couple of years once done with medical school, and how she had loved her work, but never felt she had been able to do *enough*. Then she told of how she had come across an old White spy named Alabaster, and how he had been wounded badly when an exchange had gone wrong. Angel had done her best to save him, but it had been too late. She didn't really know why, but she had felt duty bound in a way to attend the funeral.

"I suspect even now, that someone found out I was trying to save one of their agents." She said thoughtfully. "Because Alabaster was one of the 'old school'. Anonymous funeral, with only the agents he had considered the closest, and his superior, White. White was actually the one who came over to tell me, that if I ever felt like working for them, I could come and talk to them at a specific address. I gave it a few days before I decided to say yes." She sat back, giving a relaxed sigh. "It's been exciting enough, that's for certain. If I'm not out in the field and aiding any wounded agents there, I teach the first aid course, as you've seen."

"Where do you find the time?" Mul chuckled. He paused a moment and frowned. "Someone must have left something in one of the ovens too long. I smell burnt food. That's too bad."

"I've always been good at multitasking." Angel said with a chuckle. She frowned as well, when Mul commented on the burning smell. Having a view to the kitchen, she blinked and froze.

"Uh, Mul?" She said, her voice nervous. "I don't think it's the food burning... There's a lot of black smoke coming out of the kitchen!"

Mul twisted in his seat to look. "Well that's not good."

The words were like a chime announcing the entrance of a panicked waitress who tried her best to straighten out her curls with shaking hands. "Ladies and gentlemen, the back oven is on fire, most likely an electrical short. We need you all to calmly get out of your seats and move in an orderly fashion to the exit. Don't worry about paying for your meals. Just get out and to the other side of the street while we wait for the fire department." She looked like she wanted to say something else as people began standing up and putting on coats, but the fire alarms in the dining area had finally decided to kick on, along with the sprinkler system. Someone screamed, and someone else cussed, and everyone got out as quickly as they could, into the dark evening and a light drizzle that had refused to give up with nightfall.

Angel got hers and Mul's jackets, surprisingly remaining as calm as possible, with an almost steel-like frown that told the outside world that she was *not* afraid and that everything was going to be fine. It wasn't really until she and Mulberry were outside, standing close together in the crowd, that the Purple agent would notice the faint tremble in her shoulders.

Mulberry frowned and suppressed the part of his brain that began to break down emotional markers and nonverbal actions, and instead placed his arms around Angel's shoulders. "It's okay. If it had been serious, they would have had all the waiters out there physically ushering us out, and fire extinguishers at the ready. It was just that back oven—"

God apparently liked to make fun of Marcello Esposito because at that moment the windows of the kitchen which pointed into the adjacent alley blew out, spewing smoke and glass.

"Okay, so now the whole kitchen is on fire, but we're out here now." He assured, rubbing Angel's back.

Angel flinched hard at the sound, instinctively turning and hiding her face in his chest. Her back felt rock hard under his hands, but she seemed to begin to relax when there was the sound of a siren from a firetruck.

"They're here quickly. That's good." She said quietly.

Then she looked down and covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Oh no, Mul.... We forgot your shoes..."

Mulberry looked down and wiggled his toes--clad in pale mauve socks, naturally--and made a musing sound. "So that's why my toes are cold." Clearly he still needed work in the "self-awareness" department. He looked around and spotted the waiter that had been serving the two of them. "I suppose my shoes have become casualties?"

The waiter looked over and ducked his head. "More like suicide bombers, actually. The shoe tray had been full, so I set them on the ground next to the shoe tray, and I suspect the water dripping off managed to make its way to the wiring of that old oven. I told mama it was a bad idea to have that crappy oven by the mudroom."

"Oh goodness..." Angel sighed. "I hope no one was hurt."

They could of course only wait and see.

The fire was extinguished eventually, though it took long enough that umbrellas were dug out and passed around. No ambulances came for wounded, and nothing was drug out of the restaurant, so it was safe to say everyone had been ushered out of the restaurant with time to spare. A fireman spoke briefly with the restaurant employees, ascertained that it was a freak accident, and let everyone know they could go home now.

"Well... It was a nice place at least." Angel said after a while, then grimaced when her stomach decided to point out that it had *not* received any sort of meal lately.

"How about we head off?" She then asked Mul. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

"All right, I'll get the taxi. You have a place in mind that will let the "no shirt no shoes" rule slide?"

Angel thought for a moment. "I know one place." She said. "It was recommended to me by a friend. It's a place called 'The Silver Swan'."

"Sounds fancy. Sure they won't mind my lack of.." Mulberry looked down at his wet feet again, "decorum?"

"They won't." Angel said. "At least not if I mention who recommended the place."

"All right." Mulberry had learned to simply not question things when they got conspiracy-vague like that. He whistled and waved down a taxi, a thankfully easy task as most of the crowd around them had already had the idea, and so there was no competing for the driver's attention.

"You first." He offered, holding the door for Angel. "I need to wring my socks out before I close the door anyways."

"Thank you." Angel said with a chuckle, as she got in. While Mulberry took care of his socks, Angel told the driver where they wanted to go. He knew the place, though he gave her an odd look. "You sure you wanna go there, miss? I's a bit of a rough place for the wrong kinda people."
"I know what kind of place it is." Angel said. "I've been there before with a friend."

Mulberry frowned but let both the driver's and Angel's comments slide. His dining choice had failed them, so it was rightly Angel's turn to choose. At worst, it might be a favored mafia hangout, in which case he could easily make friends with a few jokes about Northern Italians or something.

They arrived with no further trouble. When they arrived, it was like Angel had said, a kind of bar. And when they got inside, they could see there were quite a few shady types. Some of them turned to give the two newcomers some dark looks.

"C'n I get ya anythin'?" The bartender said. "Like a map, since you look like yer in the wrong place."

"Oh no." Angel said. "I was told by a friend, Azrael Argentum, about this place. I've been here once before."

The man squinted at her. "Oh right, yer tha' bird he brought along once." He cocked his head in a random direction. "You and yer beau c'n sit over in the corner. It's warm so you c'n dry off. There's some menu-cards too."

"Thank you." Angel said politely.

"I'm your beau now?" Mul laughed quietly in Angel's ear as they passed by the other patrons to reach their little table in the corner.

Angel giggled a bit. "Apparently." She said, as they got to the corner.

Once seated, Mulberry took a moment to look over the menu card. There was a surprising selection for the shady pub; he wasn't sure what he had expected, but he was glad to be wrong this time.

"You wouldn't happen to know what's best here?" He inquired of Angel.

"Not really..." Angel admitted. "But there's an interesting one called a "Mammoth muffler". Apparently it's a hamburger, pretty large by the looks of it, with salad and fries."

Mulberry debated the intelligence of trying to down something called a "mammoth muffler". "If I order it, and it's too big, you have to help me." He decided with a laugh.

"It's a deal." Angel said with a grin.

Going up to the counter--since the establishment didn't seem to have anyone to take orders--Mulberry spoke briefly with someone, ordering his food and a drink before returning to the table.

Angel went along and had a drink ordered as well. When asked if she would like anything to eat, she simply told the bartender: "Well we decided to try and see the actual size of the 'mammoth muffler'." At that, the bartender laughed. "Ya wouldn't be the first one, doll. It'll be ready in 15 minutes or so."

When they got back to the table, Angel decided to ask a question that had been nagging her a bit since the restaurant.

"So." She said. "You know why *I* got into the spy business. What about you?"

"Well," Mulberry rolled the years over in his mind like he was looking for just the right skipping stone, "I couldn't have been more than 17. I bumped into someone downtown, and recognized him as a spy. He acted like I was being ridiculous, but a year later, I started getting messages, each one with a lesson to practice if I wanted to become a spy. Anyone with more sense would have probably thrown them out--and I'm sure the letters would have stopped if I had done that--but for some reason it all seemed to make sense. I love dogs, but I didn't want to take over the breeding business my mother runs. There weren't a lot of opportunities in my little neck of Sicily. And here were these fantastic, untraceable letters being sent by a stranger saying I could be a spy. Mama tried to make me give it up; she thought it was stupid. So I told her I would, and kept the messages and practicing hidden from her for the next three years.

I took a year of travel to decide if all this was what I wanted. I knew from the letters and training how dangerous the job would be. But at the end of it all, I couldn't help being drawn back like some poor sailor addicted to the ocean." Mulberry shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

Angel nodded. "Makes sense to me." She said. "I know Lilac was recruited more... directly. Purple himself pretty much just walked up to her and offered her a job."

"Would have been foolish of him to let her go." Mulberry nodded. "If he hadn't offered her a job, someone else would have, and she has the potential to be a formidable opponent. Me, I had to earn the job. Proved my skills by spending a few weeks around the town the base was stationed in, ran into each agent at least once, and then walked right into the building while managing not to be noticed by any of them."

Angel giggled at that. "Sounds a lot like one of our agents." She said, then frowned a bit. "I do admit though, that I've never quite understood *why* he offered her a job. Lilac had just lost her other job as a police officer because of sexual harassment. And while she was an excellent police officer, then neither she, nor I have ever really understood the "why" behind it all."

"Purple's a hard man to understand." Mulberry admitted. "His reasons for things are sometimes hard to understand--even impossible to understand--but the results always prove it to be the best decision. I never learned why I was transferred to New York City, but in the long run, it was for the best. Really, it seems like you have three choices. You can wait it out and see if he tells you girls his reasoning in his own time, you can go to him and ask, or you can simply put faith in him that he has his reasons. I can't be much more help than that."

"I admit, with no offense, that I have a hard time trusting him." Angel said. "The Purples that I have heard about so far are... secretive. They got their reasons of course, but it's to the point of pretty much driving Lilac bonkers. She does her best to grin and bear it, but... She gets so tired from it sometimes." She grimaced. "I'm sorry, I'm unloading on you again."
"Oh no, it's fine. If it makes you feel better, it's best not to keep it bottled up." Mulberry assured before sighing. "Trust is a hard thing to earn, isn't it? I mean, according to you, Lilac is having trouble bringing herself to trust the people she works with because they're keeping secrets, and they can't share their secrets because they don't trust her yet. Seems to me like a lot of lack of communication and time with each other, but then, I can't pretend to know anything about all this."

"Lack of communication is the worst thing, that both Lilac and I know." Angel said quietly. "We lost two dear friends because of it. And I just hate to see her suffer the way she does. She is good at not showing it, but once in a while, that tough armor she wears drops, and you can see how vulnerable she truly is."

"Well, I'll see what I can do to help, even if it's just checking in on her and being a friend. That's all I really have the power to do. Reaching out to the others and building trust with them is something only Lilac can start."

Angel managed a smile. "I appreciate that." She said. "But again, building trust does not come easily to Lilac. And the others haven't proven that well, that she can do so that easily."

"We'll get something figured out." Mulberry promised as dinner finally arrived, and this time without anything catching fire.

Needless to say, the 'Mammoth muffler' fitted its name quite perfectly. It certainly made Angel raise her eyebrows.

"Oh my." Was all she could think of saying.

"We're going to be taking home left-overs." Mulberry observed, sitting back a bit in his chair as the plate was set down on the table and silverware was set down.

"If we can, since not all places allow that." Angel said. The server, overhearing of course, perked a brow. "Well you just say so, if you want 'em." He said. "An' I'll get a bag ready for ya when the time comes. Enjoy yer meal."

"Let's give this a shot." Mulberry said dubiously, taking a steak knife and fork, and cutting it in half with a bit of maneuvering and sawing.

"At least it looks good?" Angel said with a small smile.

"Better than charbroiled ash of Alfredo." Mulberry snorted, cutting his half in half again so he could pick up a piece and take a bite out of it.

Angel giggled a bit. "True." She said, before she cut off a piece for herself.

Both Angel and Mulberry ended up with takeout boxes and the bartender's suggestion that next time they bring someone else along and try again. It was getting late, but it wasn't too hard to catch another taxi home, thankfully, and Mulberry offered to have the taxi drop Angel off first, and he would pay for the ride.

When they arrived at the apartment complex where Angel lived, she gave him a warm smile. "I had a really good time, despite the kitchen fire." She said.

"Next time, I'll have to pick somewhere fire-proof. That is, if I can have a next time."

Angel just smiled. "I would like that." She said. "Very much."