//Closed//A judge, a white rabbit and a racing fan walk into a coffee shop [OPEN]

As James entered Sláinte, his cell phone suddenly rang out loudly. Not wanting to get stares from other patrons of the coffee shop he fiddled around in his coat pocket, finally grasping the phone and managing to answer it. Other people around seemed to simply go back to their business as the first year student whispered a hushed "Hello?" into the phone.

"Jamesie!" A bright and cheerful voice screamed back from the other side. "Alice misses you but you know she'll never admit it!" The voice continued on. It was so loud that several people looked back at James who seemed slightly embarrassed and excused himself out the coffee shop the same way he had entered it.

"I've barely been here a day and you girls already miss me?" He retorted into the phone with a dash of sarcasm in his voice, "And as I recall some people couldn't wait to kick me out of the car this morning." His voice continued on snarkly.

"Ahh... Jamesie don't say that. Well anyway that's not the point, Miss Purple has a gift for you. Cuz of how the school is cell phones don't work on campus so we can't call you while you're there. She installed a doo-hikey on the phone to let me text you though. It's only off-campus we can call." The bright cheerful voice continued on. She seemed to ramble on forever....

"Alright..." James replied softly, wanting to know where this was going.

"Anyway, before you leave Sláinte - remember to check your mail from your phone!" The female voice continued on and then there was a sudden *click* and the call was cut off....

"Wait how did you know--!!" The male shouted into the phone but it was already too late. Just then, his phone beeped again, this time signalling a text-message.

[xxx - xxx - xxxx : Octane]
Oh and if you're wondering how I know where you are. Let's just say it's women's intuition. - Octane

---

"God damn it she has a tracker on me." James blurted out. While now wasn't the time to find the damned thing, he would definitely have to look for it later or she could get rather annoying rather quickly. Case in point was when James attempted for a second time to enter the coffee shop and his cell phone once again let out loud beeping noises indicating a text message.

[xxx - xxx - xxxx : Octane]
Don't forget to make friends Jamesie! And don't kill them this time like you did last time. That's just not kool
; (

And with a grave sigh James closed his phone and looked around the coffee shop hoping to finally get some peace and quiet....

Destroyed was an overstatement—he had only nicked the entrance! Knocked loose a few bits of already crumbling masonry. But, it was a woman’s right to exaggerate. How else could their gender be known so well as gossips? Regardless of the exaggeration lurking in Madame Chevok’s thoughts, the incident at the entrance was the reason that Sellar was a little… delayed in his arrival.

Of course, being new to campus, he had checked his mailbox in the office to find not one, but two envelopes stowed in the cubby. One contained a letter welcoming him to Caislin Hallows; the other, a bill for damages. While a grin spread across Sellar’s lips when he read the first, feeling welcome at the college, he was less than thrilled about the second and his expression showed. Now, he had to pay for the minor work on his car and the school’s entrance, though the administration was going to simply deduct latter from his first few paychecks.

At long last, Sellar entered the coffee house, his dark hair tossled by the wind from having to jog just to arrive five minutes late to his morning appointment… or was it a date? What did one call ‘getting coffee’ with a collegue, especially one of the opposite sex and attractive to boot? The questions fizzled in Sellar’s mind, along with all other thoughts, as he caught sight of her, dressed in a gown that displayed her upper proportions almost as aptly as nudity. For a moment, a goofy grin, not unlike that of a smitten school boy, spread across the young gentleman’s lips.

Sellar quickly corrected his countenance and approached his fellow teacher at the counter. “I’m sorry I’m late… got caught up dealing with... things,” he explained, vague as ever when a man was making up excuses. For a brief second, he wondered if she would know instantly just what ‘things’ were. Just as the day before, he was clothed in a suit, though he’d traded navy for slate—the hue matched his eyes so well, and white for ivory for his button-up shirt. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” he amended with a sincere smile that practically twinkled with a Hollywood gleam.

When the cashier returned with Mary-Lynn’s order and asked for payment, Sellar cut in, “Actually, add a latte, heavy on the foam, and put them on this.” While he spoke, Sellar’s hand dove into his back pocket and fished out his wallet, a second later, as he finished speaking, he had retrieved and was presenting a credit card to the cashier. He smiled to Mary-Lynn, “My treat, for being late.”

Sellar took the wink with her greeting as being a very, very good sign. His grin broadened as a result. When the clerk handed back his card, he slipped it into the thin slot in the wallet before closing it and pocketing it again. “Good, I try, though I can’t say that I’m quite used to the time-change just yet,” he chuckled as he scribbled a signature on the receipt the cashier slid across the counter to him. Even though the pen had scratched quickly across the paper, his name was penned in perfect cursive script with the letters composed of elegant loops and curls. Lifting his head, the fencing instructor saw the beguiling and beckoning crook of Madame Chevok’s curling finger and with a smile again like a boy with a crush, he snatched up his beverage and followed her. He might as well have been a love-sick puppy the way he sauntered behind her and then settled in across from her in the booth.

“Quite sure,” he answered with a soft laugh. “While I might be quite dashing,” he said with slow blink and bow of his head to further emphasize his joking point,” I can’t act to save my life.” Instead of arrogance, his words held a playful tone, both observing and making a jest of himself in the same statement. “Though, I can’t say I wouldn’t mind getting paid the same as some of those Hollywood hotshots,” he mused as he lifted his drink to his lips and took a sip.

“Mphf,” he grunted lightly as he quickly lower it down. “Still too hot,” he murmured as his tongue slid across his lips to sooth his stinging lip. While he waited for her latte to cool a little more, he met her eyes again. When she had slipped away from the counter to find them a table, he couldn’t help but have taken a glance at her backside. The supple curves of her body were almost hidden within the folds of fabric that made up her dress. As his gaze had trailed down her body, like water trickling across her form during a shower, he smiled to see her calves faintly stretched and flexed by the tall heels she wore. While they weren’t good for fast moving, which was often important in his line of work, they looked damn good—especially on her lovely legs.

Before becoming too lost in his recollections, Sellar flashed her another smile. “What about you? Starring in any movies?”

One corner of his lips tugged out further than the other in a slight smirk at her teasing retort about his driving. The smirk grew into a full grin when she reciprocated with her agreement in regards to a Hollywood salary. A laugh tumbled from his lips as elegantly as an acrobat, “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. I don’t know about you, but I came here to find myself a leprechaun’s pot of gold. Teaching’s just a gig to tide me over until then.”

Sellar’s eyes, an artic blue, lowered their gaze to the cup cradled in his fingers. Instead of an ivory fern fanning its fronds outward across the surface of the expresso, he saw only an amorphous white stain well beyond the distortions carrying it would have caused—he was a far way from home indeed if they didn’t even try to make latte art. It was the small things that he missed the most.

When she countered his comment about her being in showbiz, his grin softened to a gentle smile. “Almost sounds a little spooky when you put it that way,” he exhaled, meeting her gaze. “You said you were the school’s astronomy teacher, right?” As he awaited her answer, he finally lifted the decorative mug, the warm porcelain brushing his lips before he suckled a small sip of the brew. The strong taste of the espresso was shrouded in the silk-soft flavor of the milk as the mixture spilled across his tongue. It wasn’t gourmet, heck, it wasn’t even Starbucks, but it’d have to do. Not like there’s much else around, thought the fencing instructor before returning his attention from his slightly disappointing beverage to the far more appealing woman seated across from him.

Sellar detected a longing desire in his companion, but he had no idea what she sought to see in the glass display case atop the counter. When her gaze returned to him, he gave her another smile, hoping that would suffice for the moment since it seemed she had not found her treat. Caught off guard by her question that probed into his displeasure, he fumbled over the first few words of his answer: “Uh, um, no, well… It just shows how far I am from home, y’know? It’s good enough, I suppose, but it’s not what I’m used to back in California." Sellar lifted his shoulders in a light shrug, the fabric of his suit jacket resettling across them. "Anyway, the Irish are known more for their beer and whiskey than their coffee, I believe," he chuckled.

He heard the soft rustling of fabric beneath the table after her hand drifted below its edge. He could only imagine her shifting her long legs beneath the skirt of her dress, one high heel dangling as she kept it aloft. She really wouldn’t be that out of place in a movie as the sweet school teacher, he thought. Despite his briefly wandering thoughts, he kept his eyes on hers. “Yes, I suppose your right. Very little light pollution out this way.” He chuckled, “Very little light, period, for that matter.”

Her offer came as a slight surprise to Sellar but after a moment he cracked a grin. “I’d be delighted to, Mary-Lynn. I am sure that you make a wonderful Caramel Latte.”

His smile only made her head shake, but only slightly as a soft sigh escaped her lips. A nod of her head would agree with him on the subject of being away from home and used to the delicates of the homeland. ’’Yes well… Not all of us were pampered with the California sun.’’ Her tease would only cause the slender tongue to dart from lips once more in a soft gesture towards him before she leaned forwards only to look into the latte cup. ’’Hmm… That is such a sad little coffee… Perhaps some Irish Cream whiskey would have perked it right up. Haha.’’ Her head would only shake once more as she leaned back and placed herself back into the squishy seat of the booth once more.

Her fingers lifted, and tugged at the piece of paper that held the end of the string that held the tea bag in her cup. A soft sigh as she tugged the shamble of a tea bag from the hot water, then letting it drop back into its browning depths. ’’It is quite beautiful at night there, with the lack of pollution and lack of any major lights, you can see the entire night sky like it was on television.’’ Her voice faded, and a simple shyness over came the woman as she thought of her last class, how abruptly it had ended without even teaching the group of the small Dwarf Star. How she loved to go on and on about the night sky and its many wonders yet it seemed at last no one shared her love.

A surprise, not really, as she had come to this school on a whim and there had been nothing else but a simple sadness that overcame the woman. With a soft sigh, her attention resumed upon the form before, dressed to impressed it seemed and a smile to rival even the most dazzling of stars. ’’Well, I would be honored if you’d bless me with your company once again to give you a Latte that may do a better job of making you less homesick than this sad little thing.’’ With that said she would flash him a gentle smile before playing with her tea bag once again, this time pulling it out of the cup and taking a few more sips from her tea cup.

He chuckled as he listened to her. “I don’t know if ‘Irishing’ up my Irish latte would really help it at this point.” Sellar lifted his mug and took another sip from its contents after she had inspected it. Her movements, as she settled back in the booth again, the cushion giving a sigh not unlike the one that had parted her lips moments before, caught his eye again and he looked up from his brew.

“ ‘It’s so beautiful it almost looks fake’?” he teased, quoting a not-so-famous poet as he grinned to her. “Isn’t it kind of funny that when we’re presented with something so pure, so beautiful, we instantly compare it television or the movies?” The twinkle of his teeth nearly matched the sparkle in his eye as he admired the woman in front of him. Sadly, he realized that their little scene was probably falling short of cinema quality, their banter not quite what you’d expect to see on the big screen. Where was the script when you needed a punch-line or a pick-up line or heck, any kind of line to keep from descending into an awkward silence between two near-strangers?

Sellar smiled to her as she resumed the subject of making him a latte. It was the sweet offer one might expect in a romantic comedy—and wasn’t that the lifestyle he longed to live? Care free and in love, drifting through life with a woman on his arm. Then again, there was always the thrill of a good action scene, pitting his wits and steel against a worthy rival. “Well, we’ll just have to set up a time to do it then.” He paused, glancing to the counter with its assortment of baked goods displayed behind the glass. “If I lie about baking some treats to go with the lattes, would you believe me?” he mused, his voice tinkling with a soft ring of laughter.

“I suppose that means you’re into women,” he suggested with a light chuckle, trying to playfully rationalize why the beauty seated across from him was unattainable. The fencing instructor, a native from California with its more liberal lifestyles, hoped that she wouldn’t find the comment insulting. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset Mary-Lynn and hurt his chances with her. They were already talking about a second date, it seemed, and he hadn’t even been at Caislin Hallows for twenty-four hours.

Another soft laugh tumbled from his lips, filtered through his smile. “Whether the lie or the treats are good? Or both?” In a bold gesture, Sellar reached across the table with one hand, the ivory ring of his shirt peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his navy-hued jacket. His palm faced upward, like a child’s hoping for a treat, and the twinkle of his eye, the flash of his grin, showed that he was hoping for a treat, thought no sweet or chocolate, simply the delight of contact. His long fingers stretched outward over the polished mahogany of the table, waiting to snap around her hand like a gentle snare. “I’ll certainly try my hardest to make sure they’re both good.”

Had Sellar not known better, he might have thought himself a talented snake charmer the way a smile slithered and danced across Mary-Lynn’s lips. Her playful, shocked expression brought a grin to his own again. “Yes, well, can’t be all sugar,” he teased, his tongue darting out a second.

When Sellar stretched his hand across the table, fingers laid open like the teeth of a trap, he waited. Like a mouse stepping on a bear trap, the touch of a single fingertip wasn’t enough to trigger it. It wasn’t until after she’d lowered multiple fingers into the snare that his fingers snapped shut around them, catching them if she didn’t move them first. If he had them, he held her fingers tightly but gently. “Can’t have much fun if you don’t take risks now and then.”

Unfortunately, seconds after he’d caught her hand, a gentle buzz and beep interrupted the possibly tender moment. Sellar’s head drooped along with his smile, “Seems I should be going if I want to make it back in time for my class.” Sellar released her hand, if he had it, and drew his own back. The instructor lifted his mug and drained the rest of its contents in a long swig, before setting it back down again. “Well, let me know what evenings you’re free and we’ll meet up again, alright? My number is,” said Sellar, providing her with the digits before the phone in his pocket chirped again. “Must be off! Bye for now, Mary-Lynn.” Sellar raced out of the coffee shop.
[Exits]

With a soft sigh she only shook her head a bit before letting her fingers become caught by his grasp. ’’Well, not everything can be candy but what is should perhaps be slightly sweeter.’’ With that said, she watched her fingers dance in the palm of his hand slightly before they were snatched into a grasp. Her eyes only opened in slight surprise from the sudden judgment of the man as she squirmed her fingers in his grasp. ’’Risks are all well and –‘’

Just as she started to speak the beeping on his phone caught her attention, with one last gentle squeeze against his grasp she watched as he hurried himself to get up and out. She lifted a hand and waved towards him ’’See you…’’ She watched as he hurried out the door with a soft sigh escaping her. ’’Next time..’’ Quickly she gathered herself together, then took his lead out of the café shop

[exit]