Tara froze. She had been half a second away from saying "Actually, drowning people gets rather loud."

Instead, she shook his hand politely, and reminded herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong. She wasn't lying. By omission, maybe. But what else was she supposed to say? "Oh, I just finished investigating you"?  He'd started the conversation, and she was content to let it die. In fact, her statement had been trying to shut down the conversation, not open it up. But if he wanted to talk... well, what did she have to lose? Other than making Isabella wait in the bathroom. Forever.

"I wasn't trying to be mysterious, I assure you. I just... often get overwhelmed with work. Like that's all there is, a lot of the time. It's rare that I eat a new sandwich."

She sighed. Part of her wished that she'd worn something better. A dress, maybe. Another part of her was wishing she was in her old rags from Newfoundland, so she wouldn't have attracted any attention from him at all. The blouse and skirt made her seem like a secretary out for lunch.

"For some people," he offered.  "Work is fun.  Maybe you're someone who gets joy out of what you do?  There nothing wrong with admitting that, at least I hope not... or I'm in a world of trouble.   You know, if you want a sandwich from time to time, you could always order one.  They got a boy here who will bring one to you almost anywhere up and down Fifth Street."

Finally, he truly smiled, "So what is it you do?  Lion tamer?  Airplane pilot?  Or maybe something a little less exciting... ah ha!  I got it... you're a race car driver here in Philly in disguise, trying to get a break from your legion of fans?"

Just over Adams' shoulder Tara could see Isabella come out of the restroom and instantly she saw Adams and she froze.  She connected eyes with Tara trying to figure out whether she should try to slip out or come save the woman from the conversation.

Tara's sandwich comment seemed stupid as soon as it left her mouth. Inwardly cursing herself, she decided to just move on and save herself some embarrassment, even if she felt like drowning herself in her iced tea.

"I don't know how much joy I get out of my work lately. I help people that I care about, but it seems like I don't even have time to see those people much anymore. Mostly I write reports. And read reports. And crunch numbers. Business stuff. Though sometimes it feels like I'm a lion tamer. Don't need to use my whip too often, though."

Not lying there.

As Isabella exited the bathroom, Tara tilted her head immediately back in the direction she came. Isabella got the message, and seemed to get back inside before Adams saw her, but the guy working the counter also saw Tara tilt her head and he placed another iced tea in front of her. And this one was even stronger.

Gods damn it. 

Tara took a long, long drink. Maybe that would scare him away.

And if it didn't? Well, she at least wanted to be buzzed enough where she wasn't constantly worried if she were doing the right thing even talking to this guy.

Kacey smirked as she mentioned using a whip.  He hadn't meant it to come out as a flirtation when he'd accused her of being a lion tamer, it really was meant to be humor and a way to make her smile.  He wasn't sure if he was helping at all.

"You might be careful, Bill's Reuben is to die for, but he tends to go a bit heavy handed on the hooch in those teas of his."  Regardless of Tara's reaction to his guess that she's drinking illegal booze, he goes on, "The first time he put a hit of it in mine, well it was a few years back.  Of course, then you could pay for the shot instead of paying an extra dollar for tea knowing that you're getting 'complimentary' booze."  he shakes his head.

"You know, I've been a cop fifteen years this spring and some things still defy any real reason to me.  That little indulgence of yours is a big one.  There's a whole damn country full of drunks and making hooch illegal hasn't helped to make less drunks... just more criminals.  And, so far as I can see - that's a huge waste of resources that would be better used on real crime."

He shook his head.  "Now look which one of us is too into our jobs!  I can't even have a conversation with a pretty dame without it coming back around to my work."  He sighed.  "Sorry."

She winked at the mention of alcohol.

"No idea what you're talking about, Of-"

She swallowed the "officer".

"- course."

Although at least he let that particular fact out soon. One less thing to remember not to say.

"A cop, huh? What's that like?"

Still, she felt herself flush at "pretty dame". Then she drowned  her interior monologue with more iced tea.

"Lonely most days."  His eyes looked back to his drink.  "People either want to know a cop because they hope it will get them out of trouble one day in the future, or they dislike us... it's seldom a job that brings real friends.  It's why, when I do go out of my way to meet people outside of work, I usually try to leave that part out for a while."

He shrugged.  "Guess I'll have to toss the dice and pray that you're not the sort of gal who's only talking to me because you're banking on needing a friendly cop one day.  Maybe, just maybe, I dare to hope that you're chatting with me because you're surrounded by highly polished gentlemen who have money and charm to spare... but like the mousse you nearly allowed yourself to indulge in earlier, you're wanting to spend your time with someone just a little less complicated."

He waved the bartender over, "I'll have..."  He hesitated.  "The drink she's having... and ... how about a chocolate mousse if you got one.  Two spoons, please."

Tara smirked.

"So tell me about yourself, if you're so uncomplicated. What do you like?"

"Let's see, I'm a huge baseball nut.  I love going to watch games.  If it wasn't the off-season I'd be pitching the idea of taking you on a date to a game... but sadly it is the offseason."  He shrugged.

"In the winter months when I'm not working I like bowling.  I know, again, not what I would call complicated or all that interesting but it gets me out of the house.  And I spend a lot of time with my nose in books.  As a boy I had a very bad case of Scarlet Fever, I survived it but while I was laid up I pretty much only had access to a pile of books which I read and re-read.  So, once I was well, I kept demanding more stories to devour.  I think my mother regretted not giving me some other thing to occupy my time while I was ill.  She said I nearly drove her to the poor house over dime store novels."

He shook his head, "Some single men have messy homes because of their lifestyles, well, I do... sorta... in that, I have piles of books everywhere and my idea of a good Friday night is kicking back with any number of them."

He looks thoughtful, "Much of the rest of my time is spent at work, at church, or visiting with family.  I'm afraid it's not much more complicated than that.  One day looks very much like the next - I can't say it's inspired much of a social life for me but I'm content in many ways."  

As the mousse got sat down, and his 'tea', he hopped over to what would have been Isabella's barstool and offered her a spoon.  "I don't think it will go too badly with the tea.  Besides, it's chocolate.  No one can resist chocolate." 

He took a small drink of his tea.  "So, what are you doing when you're not working?  What's your perfect day look like?"

Adams looked... nervous. Like he wasn't used to chatting up a woman. Ten years seemed like a long time to go solo... maybe he had the occasional relationship? Or hookers? Still, he didn't seem comfortable. Tara took another large sip from her drink and was surprised to see that it was empty. That was fast. Well, at least she was feeling more comfortable herself.

"I'm Tara, by the way."

He seemed thrown that he hadn't known that yet, but she talked a bit to smooth it over, even as she watched his face for any signs of alarm. There were lots of people named "Tara", she supposed... even if he had heard of her in passing. Everyone knew Jack, of course. Will. Adonis. Even Gavin had a reputation. But Tara had mostly stayed behind the scenes- and, for once, she was glad.

Of course he liked baseball. Seemed like... a shortstop. Steady hands. 

Bowling. Boring. 

"Well books are interesting."

Shit. Did I say that out loud.

"I love to read, myself. Sorry to interrupt."

Single men. At least he's not referring to himself as married. Maybe he's not as hung up on things as we thought... oh shit, Isabella's still in the bathroom... she'll be fine...

With a grin, Tara swiped some of the mousse with her finger and deftly licked it off. It was good. The next bite, she used the spoon.

"Sleeping in. Finishing a good book. Wearing something fun, seeing my friends, my family. Maybe go see a band- a good band. Dance. Get l-"

Tara coughed, stopping herself from saying "laid".

"-ost wandering around a part of the city I've never been before."

Kacey couldn't help but stare as she brought her finger up and sucked the chocolate right off of it.  He turned his attention to his tea and took a much deeper drink than was probably wise.

He coughed slightly from the drink's kick.  Clearing his throat he said, "Sleeping in is nice..."  He refrained from adding something about how sleeping in with the right person was even better.  That he even thought of the words made him blush ever so slightly.  He hoped that she'd think it was from the alcohol.  

Was it?

Was the bartender smiling? 

How much was in this tea? 

"I think the bartender has conspired against me..."  He said softly pushing his half-empty glass away.  "He knows it's been a while since I've worked up the courage to talk to a woman, let alone someone as beautiful as you."  

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  He laid down the payment for the mousse and his tea.  "I should probably quit while I'm ahead or I'm bound to find a way to screw this up and ... being perfectly honest, this is one of the nicest conversations that didn't involve a grocery list or potentially criminal actions that I've had all week."

He chuckled and then paused to ask, "But, then again, maybe I could ask if you'd be okay with me bringing you a sandwich sometime?  I'd be happy to run something to your office so you could stay focused on your work.  We could ... maybe talk about our favorite books and force ourselves away from our passions for a bit."

The word passions felt wrong, it felt like he might have meant something other than he meant to say so he quickly fumbled to clarify, "I mean our work... the jobs we do, because we're so passionate about them... we work a lot, and a break is good.  I could bring sandwiches?"  he laughed nervously. 

"Damn it."  He muttered at his own failing of eloquence.  He could bring sandwiches to divert from passion... that literally had to be the dumbest thing he'd EVER said to a woman.  He sighed sure she would NEVER accept a sandwich or second meeting with him again.

Tara practically purred at "beautiful", but her smile faltered slightly as stumbled into his words and seemed to start leaving.

"I- I enjoyed our conversation too."

Gods, you're awkward. But good. She practically blurted out her next words.

"-what about tonight?"

Before you figure out who I am.

He seemed shocked but recovered quickly.  "Tonight would be great.  I mean, are you sure sandwiches though?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Uncomplicated though they are... it's not really a proper dinner food.  They get eaten so fast there's just no time to get to know someone better and if I'm getting some time with you, call me greedy, but I'd like it to last more than twenty minutes."

He looked at the floor and added quietly, "A really classy dame like you deserves a real meal, something more than just some... sandwich."  He looked up to her eyes and asked, "So, what do you think you want?"

Tara grinned.

"Yeah. Okay. Let's go to..."

She nearly said the names of six restaurants before realizing they were owned by "associates" of hers. 

"... Mickey's."

One of the only "clean" places in town. Nice food. Not too expensive, but nice enough.

"Meet you there at eight?"

He nodded, perhaps too eagerly.  "Mickey's is great."  He said barely keeping his body from bouncing with nervous excitement.  "I look forward to seeing you - thanks for the, um, conversation."

He nodded to the bartender, who was smirking at the both of them, and he made his way out the door.  

The bartender made his way over, "Go easy on that one... he's just decided to get back in the game.  Guys like him should know better than to aim so high, but he's one of the good ones, ya know?"

He chuckled as he cleaned up the bar.

A moment later Isabella came out of the bathroom.  "I thought he'd never leave, are you okay?"  She asked Tara.

Tara thanked the bartender and stood up as soon as Isabella reappeared. 

"We need to leave. We also need to talk... now ... but you also need to keep get me exactly to this level of intoxication again at eight o'clock... sorry you were stuck in the bathroom for so long... "

They hit the pavement and jumped in the first cab that drove by.

*****

Isabella Luciano was not only a good friend, but a good bartender too. She'd listened to Tara's moral quandaries all afternoon. Was it right to withhold information like "hey I'm a criminal", especially from someone they both saw as good? In the end, they decided that Tara hadn't lied- not really.

Isabella had also managed to keep Tara buzzed enough that neither one of them were feeling anything but good. The cab dropped Tara off at Mick's, and the black heel hit the pavement a trifle unsteadily before she balanced herself and made her way inside. Her chestnut hair was perfect, and she'd broken out her old emerald dress for what she knew would be the last time. The dress left her shoulder bare, and the straps crossed on her back in an X; the color was a rich green.

She made her way slowly inside and saw that Adams had already gotten them a table. He looked like he'd been here early. She grinned as she slid into her seat across the table from him.

"Hi."

"Wow."  He said, eyes unabashedly taking in the sight of her.  Then, as she sat down, he reached under the brought out a small box.  He offered it to her.  "Probably not the best gift ever offered on a first date, but flowers seemed overdone and... I know so little about you.  Hopefully, this is a good middle ground that at least is somewhat close to a thing you might enjoy."

The box held a small copy of an early Victorian age book about the language of flowers, what flowers meant and communicated without the need for words.  The edition seemed well-loved but otherwise in good condition.

"I can't say it's a fun read, but it is interesting.  The idea that you can say a whole world of things with flowers - leave a secret message of a sort if you like that sort of thing.  Seems very much like something that should have been in a Sherlock Holmes novel to me."

Tara picked up the book in her hands and ran her fingers over the cover, trying to recover.

Shit.

"Ah... this is way too thoughtful."

She rested her hand on top of his for a moment.

"Thank you. It's... wonderful."

Shit. 

"You can ask anything about me that you want to know. I don't want to stay a mystery."

She smiled. She was, at least partially, telling the truth. But right now she was trying her best not to swoon.

"Anything?"  He nodded to himself.  "At the risk of chasing you away from the table, I'm not entirely sure that's a good plan.  I'm sure you'd rather I ask something about you, your life, your career... maybe about your hobbies or friends.  Hell, maybe about past relationships, some women like to talk about that sort of thing.  Anything is sorta broad and what I want to ask, I'm worried will make you leave."

He paused and looked at how she handled the book and then opened up with, "You should know I've been trying for a while now to get back out and start seeing people.  I lost my wife a few years ago and, when I saw you at the restaurant I ... I didn't come in with the intention of flirting with you like I did - but then I saw your face and everything... changed."

He shook his head knowing how corny that sounded, but it was true and he wasn't going to back down now.  "I'm afraid my intentions weren't 100% what they appeared so I'm just going to ask you straight out what I should have said then.  Either we'll get past the hard part and move on to what could be an incredible evening in which I have planned a rather elaborate attempt to ensure you go on a second and third date with me... which would be like my first second date in nearly a decade; or you can walk out if I really drop the ball but ... for the record, I'm sincerely hoping that it's more of the prior and a lot less of the later."

He adjusted in the chair, "How you know Isabella Luciano and why you & she at that house on 5th and Oxford today?  Do you know the couple who lives there?  Did you... maybe meet them somewhere or something?"

Tara leaned back in her chair.

"I say what I mean. I'm fine with anything."

Annnnnd never-mind. Still, she tried to wear a poker face and thanked the gods for Isabella keeping her relaxed.

"I said I'd answer anything. I will. I like you, Kacey. You're a good looking guy. And you're good. So fuck it- I'll answer your questions, because I'm not a liar if I can help it. My name is Tara Byrne. Isabella Luciano is engaged to my brother. She mentioned that she tried to bribe you, so we were trying to figure you out to make sure you wouldn't be a problem. We talked to... the couple you mentioned. We learned about your past. Basically, I'd decided that you seemed like a good cop and decided to try to stay out of your way and let you do your thing. And then you showed up and sat down next to me. And here we are."

There was something behind her eyes. Frustration? Gods damn it. She'd hoped to avoid this conversation until... tomorrow. Next week. Sometime later. But here they were.