Starbucks Rescue

November 22, 2014: Darcy is running errands and Piotr needs rescuing. It all works out.

Downtown NYC



  • NPC Grandma

Mood Music:

Gopher! Go-pher this. Go-pher that. Go-pher for this other thing. Darcy loathes and loves Gopher Days. She gets a list of things to get from all over New York, and even if it won't really take ALL day Darcy can usually make it last all day. And on company money to boot.

In that midmorning break, Darcy pauses at a Starbucks for a latte… mocha… coffee… something. Because she totally NEEDS food.

There is a long line at Starbucks today. Piotr hasn't ventured much around New York proper. This is probably because he still thinks of NYC as taken over by Sentinels. Which is what happened on his version of earth.

The large man is a bit like a bull in a china shop. Between the faint anxiety at having left the safety of Jericho and Illyana's apartment AND Xavier's school, he's not quite convinced he should be out getting coffee. But then, he needs to rip off the bandaid and just get his life together again, right?

He hadn't aimed to get coffee. He'd aimed to help the elderly woman (who so skillfully has her arm looped through his) cross the street.

"My granddaughter is going to love you, young man," she reaches up to pinch one of his dimpled cheeks, earning a slight flush underneath the touch.

"Ma'am," he states in the smooth gentle cadence so many have come to expect from this version of Piotr, "I'm not… I don't need a coffee to do you a kindness." Or anyone for that matter.

"Nonsense!" the elderly woman returns. "Besides, my granddaughter will want to meet you. You two should have dinner sometime — "

Piotr's eyes widen. He's getting set up by some random woman he helped cross the street. This can't be good.

Darcy is NOT the woman's granddaughter. But as the two come in, queue up behind Darcy, and she overhears the elder woman. Darcy glances behind her, because New Yorkers are nosy, and so his wide-eyed expression is seen. A moment to assess and Darcy draws a breath and turns around fully.

"There you are! I was starting to think you'd stood me up. Oh? Helping a grandma? He always does that. Such a hero! But, that's why I love him. Wouldn't you?" Darcy babbles as she steps to Piotr's other side and stretch-stretch-stretch up to give him a kiss on the …umm.. jaw. Unless he leans to her so she can kiss his cheek.

For a beat, puzzle draws across Piotr's features, but then with an appreciative smile, he clues in. There's no question: the rescue is more than appreciated.

"Oh does he?" the elderly woman quips with unfettered surprise. She relinquishes the large man's arm and peers between the pair.

And, to help play along, Piotr leans down to offer Darcy his cheek. "Sorry," there's a pause, "honey," the words feels wrong, but he goes with it anyways, "I just had to help this nice lady cross the street — "

"You should've told me you have a lovely girlfriend! You two make such a sweet couple." The elderly woman steps back to inspect the pair and their assumed coupleness. "Although… He's a little tall for you dear… my granddaughter is quite tall — "

Piotr's eyebrows arch upwards. Is this lady for real?

Darcy leans into Piotr after the kiss is given. She keeps her hand on his chest, fingers splayed protectively.

"We've got a size kink. Makes him huge and me tight," Darcy says with a completely sweet and innocent smile. All the while the rest of her body language is aggressively protective: MINE! MINE! Like an animated seagull in a movie about finding a fish.

Yes, this gramma is for real. Talking about sex openly is hte best way to get them to back up. Trust the Darcy.

The mention of size kink has Piotr's eyebrows trying to disappear into his hairline. His lips part and he gapes at the woman before he manages to recover and snake a protective arm around her. Must sell this very happy relationship. His throat clears and he offers with a warming of his cheeks, "I prefer short women." Obviously.

Grandma scoffs indignantly. "Well then! I will just go meet my friend Mavis for tea! I hope you are both — " but she doesn't finish he thought, instead she throws up her hands in disgust and mutters to herself, "Talking about that in public! I never!"

When the grandma seems to be retreating, the large man eases. "Thank you," he states smoothly towards the much littler woman. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee for your, er, help?"

The grandma's indignation has Darcy giggling, and she starts to turn away, Darcy alouds to Piotr: "Wanna be on top tonight, Stud?" Just to see the woman retreat faster. Darcy's got no shame, and a horrible sense of humor. She giggles more and steps away from Piotr to give him back his space whent eh woman is gone.

"Sure. If you want to, but you don't have to. My coffee's on work today, so I'm planning on going a bit ham," she says, chin tilted up, green eyes dancing.

"Well it was a rescue," Piotr's grin extends, shooting her a small flash of teeth. "And I should give you something for your help. Honest." His head turns to the side. "Coffee doesn't really seem worth it though if you weren't going to be paying for it anyways." He chuckles. "Defeats the purpose of buying you one and showing my thanks."

He shrugs lightly. "You spend much time rescuing men from unwanted dates, or was this an exceptional day? You improvised quickly."

"Yes. Yes it was. I'm a fucking superhero. Cape's at the dry-cleaners," Darcy smiles right back. She tucks that one unruley lock back behind her ear, fluttering her eyelashes… Heroically!

"Want to buy the sandwich? Or the brownie, or something?" Darcy offers as the line shuffles forward.

"Just as much time as i do being the damsel, which is to say, not as much as you'd think. But you really looked out of your element, and you're far too hot to be left to a yiddish-momma's match-making claws."

With another chuckle, Piotr nods. "You order your food and I'll pay. You can have both the sandwich and the brownie on me," he shuffles slowly as the line shrinks. "You rescued me from the fate of what would undoubtedly be a series of bad dates with all of her friends' granddaughters until I managed to lose my cellphone." Because Rasputin is too nice for his own good.

"I'm Piotr, by the way," he introduces with a small nod of his head.

"Darcy. And your phone's virtue is safe with me," she quips, winking. "I'm going to warn you, though. I pack away more than my size hints," Darcy adds.

"I'm sure I can afford whatever you can pack away." Piotr looks at his own body, allowing his chin to drop to his chest. He exhales a breath, causing his cheeks to puff out. "I pack away a lot." Pause. "Believe it or not." He's huge. It's easy to believe.

To which Darcy just laughs brightly.

"Nooooooooooooooooo………..! I would've thought you nibbled!" she quips, before reaching out to pat his arm. Whew! What an arm! She licks her red lips before pulling her hand away and shuffling forward with the line. Nearly there! Mocha! I can almost taste you!

And he's not even flexing. He is just that large. "So. Darcy. What is it that you do that work pays for your coffee." He grins openly at her. When the pair get to the front, he motions towards Darcy. "Whatever she's having is on my dime."

"Chicken BLT Salad Sandwich, a cheesecake brownie, and a venti latte," Darcy tells the barista before stepping aside and letting Piotr order.

"I work at a corportate style office. I'm taking a gopher day," she replies.

"I'll have the same sandwich, no brownie though, and …" Piotr hasn't had coffee since returning to the land of the living, and so, like the large teddy bear he is, "hot chocolate. Whipped cream. A big one." Because that's how large body-builder types roll, right? Or maybe he just works out so much that he doesn't worry about what he eats?

An almost obscene sort of moan escapes from between Darcy's lips. "I'm so taking a taste of your hot chocolate," are the words in the moan. Darcy even licks her lips a few times as Piotr pays, and she shuffles to the side while snatching out to get the number tent that will allow a worker to bring their lunch to them.

"And your cream. I'm so getting your cream in my mouth." And this is why that grandma ran awya.

There a wrinkle of Piotr's brow at Darcy's response. Yes, he's surprised, but he's also incredibly amused. IN fact, his eyes dance with shy amusement (because she does inspire bashfulness), at the remarks. "Well," he begins, "you can have a taste." His lips quirk into a smile, "You have a rather… uncanny unusual honesty. I admire that." The smile turns lopsided as he strolls to the counter to wait for their drinks and food. "You could've got one, you know. A hot chocolate, I mean…"

"Yeah. My mouth gets me in and out of trouble. You have been warned," Darcy singsongs, smiling at the blush. Another one! "I admire your arms, and if I'd gotten one of my own it wouldn't have tasted as good as getting you to put yours in my mouth for me. See? There is a madness to hte method!"

"Well then it's the sort of pre-planned madness I couldn't anticipate. I bow down to the evil genius that you are," there's a dryness to his words, but his lips pull into an easy grin. "And it's a good thing your mouth can get you out of trouble as easily as in it. I imagine without that you'd be consistently in trouble." Pause. "Judging by your improvisation skills." He winks.

"MOOOOhahahahahahahaahah!" Darcy's evil super genius laugh. It's adorable in a frightening almost legitimate sort of way. She even rubs her hands together as the food is placed on a tray for them. She reaches for the drinks, becasue they are lighter and it will let her lick at that tip of Piotr's whipped cream mound. Really! It's all innocent!

The tray of food is taken and Piotr strolls to one of the many tables in the coffee shop. If Piotr cares about Darcy licking the whipped cream, he doesn't make comment (nor does he look like he cares; he probably doesn't). The tray is set on the table and he slides into one of the chairs. "You're from New York?" Even as she aims to lick the whipped cream, he notes, "Just to be clear, I do actually want my drink." He punctuates the point with a broad grin.

Darcy only takes one long lick of the cream before setting it in front of Piotr's seat before she takes her own.

"I'm from all over, really. College in Jersery, group up on Long Beach, high schooled in Cali, interned in New Mexico…" she says as she settles in to her foodstuff. "You?"

Piotr runs a hand over his bestubbled chin, "I was born in Russia." But there's no hint of an accent. "I grew up in Westchester," on another version of earth. "So. Close to hear." He shoots her a small smile.

Darcy smiles at the reply. Well, smiles past eh bite she took. She doesnt' seem shy about talking with her mouthful, though she does open her mouth less wide than usual so as to keep from being a complete moocow.

"Immigrant. Nice. My grandparents were too, i think? Every white person in America's from an immigrant family, one time or another," she comments loosely. "I've never been. Maybe, when you're ready to think about letting me pop your phone's cherry you can take me there to meet the folks," she jokes semi-seriously. She'd love to visit, after all, and hanging with a native is a great way to avoid getting completely lost. The error she made in Gotham. Which reminds her to call up Tim some time for a tour of hte city, maybe.

There's a chuckle and Piotr shakes his head. "You can put your contact information in my phone if you like, but my parents… well." He shrugs. "No family left there to speak of. My sister, brother, and I all came here as orphans." He shrugs again. "But I do speak Russian. And I remember some things about my former country."

"You travel much?"

"Oh. Sorry about your loss," Darcy says, quite sincere even as she holds out her hand for the phone. She's going to take a cute selfie for the contact icon and everything. "And the answer is yes. Not as much as I used to but, ohmygod, so much travel."

Piotr reaches into his pocket and extracts the cellphone which is then plunked into Darcy's grasp. "Thank you. It was many years ago now. But thank you." He grins at the mention of travel. "I haven't travelled much in recent years, but there was a time I toured Europe while studying art." He smirks. "I paint. And not as a hobby. It's my livelihood."

"Really? A working artist? That's cool. Do you need any nude models?" Darcy asks, direct and yet round about all at once. Her eyes never leave the screen of Piotr's phone as she types away at the keyboard as quickly and precisedly as any office secreatary would a computer keyboard.

"Possibly," evidently Piotr isn't scandalized by the question. But then, he is an artist. "Right now I'm focusing on — " his eyes flit about the room " — a retroactive piece heralding the past." He grins and translates, "I'm working from memory on things I'd rather not forget. Life events, people, pleas. I'll call it Requiem of a Life. It's a work in progress. Hopefully it will become an entire exhibit."

Nodding quite pleasantly, Darcy holds the phone out at arms length, just above her eyelevel. She turns her face to catch the light from the store front windows, and she smiles sweetly while quirking a brow. Darcy does NOT duckface.

"That's awesome. Let me know when and where you're showing. I'll go see your show. Maybe bring some friends," she says while saving the contact and holding the phone back out.

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