closer. [tag; dash]

NPC; Clooney Regan

"Fergal! Mate, not there. Round the back, yeah?"

The lilting Irish brogue belonged to a tall, blonde and be speckled young man who was striding through a large, modern bar. Eden was on the Dublin docklands, right on the edge of the Irish Sea. Bright and imposing, it was a popular spot for romantic evenings and casual meetings. Set over two floors, it offered diners panoramic views over the bustling capital with large floor to ceiling windows, comfy seats and the best seafood in the entire country. Or so Clooney thought.

The place belonged to his father but Clooney sort of owned it now. It was a fairly busy  Friday night, full of various people and the gentle chatter and clinking of glasses made him swell with pride. The place was doing great.

His long legs strode over to the bar to help Fergal, the barman, with a crate of glasses. "C'mere," he said warmly, easily hoisting it up and stepping around the bustling bar area to the kitchen where he quickly and deftly helped unpack them. Clooney wasn't into micromanaging. It wasn't his style. He spent most of his time here, getting his hands dirty. What other way was there to run a business? He was friends with all of his staff and they were friendly back. Though in a rather modern and clean setting, there was a warm and welcoming ambience that spread around the place easily.

Blowing at a lock of his pale blonde hair, he rolled up the sleeves to his pale blue dress shirt as he tidied things up. Eden was run beautifully. Customers had very few complaints and if they did, they were dealt with swiftly and professionally and they assured a return visit. They'd been hammered over Valentine's Day and that was great. It was full of soppy couples, young and old, sharing glasses of prosecco and warm chocolate fudge cake over candlelight. Clooney was single but he wasn't particularly that bothered. He was, however, bothered about his sister's choice of boyfriend.

Hal Trickett had smashed Ruari's heart in school so he couldn't understand why he'd been awarded with another chance. Still! If his baby sister was happy, who was he to judge? Grabbing a cloth from the kitchen, he deftly wiggled around, cleaning tables and collecting glasses, stopping to have a chat with the patrons. He had plenty of time for his customers. After all, they paid his wages. "Is everything okay with your meal?" He asked someone and when they said it was, he offered a sparkling grin that made the dimple in his left cheek appear before warmly clapping the man's shoulder and depositing the plates in the kitchen before shrugging on his suit jacket quickly.

Ruari's best friend, Dash, was meeting him tonight. Not his idea of course but Ruari said that she'd split from her long time boyfriend and just needed company. Clooney wasn't thick; he knew his sister but she was a terrible matchmaker. She could barely tie her own shoes, let alone orchestrate someone else's relationship. Still! He liked Dash. She was smart and very pretty. She frequented the household when they were growing up so they'd become sort of close. They chatted at family parties and he thought she was hilarious. Oh sure, there was some attraction on his part but he wasn't really sure what it meant. It was probably best not to poke a bear.

Their table was on the second floor, right near the window. With soft candlelight and ample distance from other diners, it was a nice and quiet spot. It overlooked the harbour, the twinkling lights of the city could be seen as the gentle waves lapped at the restaurant's foundations. Sinead, the hostess, would have shown her to the table, he was sure. He bounded up the stairs, taking three at a time and he could see her almost instantly. The trademark grin lit up his handsome facial features as he strode over swiftly, a cloud of expensive cologne in his wake.

"Hello stranger," he said kindly, bending to kiss both of her cheeks warmly before he looked at her properly. "You look beautiful. Take a seat," with that, he pulled a chair out for her before slipping off his jacket and hanging on the back of his chair, looking much more like the easy-going Clooney he really was. Adjusting his classes, the candlelight cast his high cheekbones into high relief. It was clear to see that he and Ruari were related. Same colour hair, cheekbones and strong noses and the same general haphazardness. "I'm so sorry I'm late," he told her, his large grey eyes wide and apologetic. "I fell over a box of lettuces and collapsed a shelf," offering an embarrassed smile, he chuckled. Like sister like brother.

Dash didn’t know whether she felt thankful and excited or irritated and nervous. It had been far too many years since she’d had been on any sort of proper “date” and the woman really didn’t think that she knew what she was doing. Of course, it had been Ruari’s doing.

The young woman knew that there was no pressure. This wasn’t the sort of date where she had no idea about her company’s intentions or life goals or food preferences or whether or not they were nice. In some ways, that made it worse. Clooney was handsome and charming and definitely nice. The petite brunette wasn’t sure if she could transition from looking at him as her friend’s older brother to date material. She wasn’t even sure about what her standard of date material was.

Besides, if it went absolutely terribly and she made a fool of herself, she wouldn’t be able to just walk straight out from it, would she? The woman sighed, reflecting on all of this as she made her way to the restaurant she’d be eating at tonight. Maybe if she embarrassed herself too badly, she’d move out and drop out of Ru’s life for a couple of months. Entertaining this idea amused the Hufflepuff alumni as she gave her name at the restaurant’s door. 

On top of organising this meeting, Ruari had also been the one to do her make-up earlier in the afternoon. There was something exciting about partaking in an experience like that with her friend. If she just didn’t think about the fact that she was going on a dinner date with Ruari’s brother (and, in fact, if she ignored the fact that she was going on a date altogether), then the girly routine was actually quite fun. It must have been a little strange for Ruari, but Dash couldn’t imagining excluding her roommate from the getting-ready part of tonight. They spent so much time together these days they were almost like sisters.

Funny thought.

She’d also worn one of Ruari’s dresses tonight. It was comfortable, soft and hung off of her slender body like she was a model designed to make clothes look good. Her housemate really did have a gift when it came to her creative art; Dash actually looked like she had boobs tonight, for one thing. And hips. The dress came just below her knees, but still emphasized the length of her legs. She didn’t know how Ruari did it.

Dash steeled herself before following the host up some wooden stairs to the table she’d be eating at tonight. A quick glance around the place told her that Clooney wasn’t around yet. She took her seat and thanked the host, staring out of the window to calm her nerves. Ocean views always made her feel better. Maybe that was why she enjoyed working with magical water creatures so much. Going out on boats, documenting the eating habits and life cycles of moonwhales by the starlight… it really was something spectacular. This place reminded her of that environment, and she liked it.

His appearance made her jump, but she stood quickly to greet him. “Thanks,” she said softly with a smile. When he leant in to kiss her cheeks, she stiffened automatically. The girl got a big whiff of his cologne and couldn’t help herself. “You smell lovely,” she murmured. Inner cringe. You smell lovely? The girl almost got up and walked out in that moment. In an attempt to cover up her awkward compliment, the brunette kept talking. “Oh, don’t worry about being late. This place is amazing. Ruari kept telling me she’d bring me here, but we just never got around to it... We don’t eat out nearly as much as she did before I moved in.” Dash let out a lighthearted laugh. Surely Clooney would know about his sister’s terrible, terrible cooking skills.

Dash glanced out at the ocean again, feeling herself relax after the shock of his appearance. She glanced down at her slender hands before looking up at him with a much more relaxed and genuine smile. This was easy. Not nearly as traumatic as she’d thought it would be.

“It really is beautiful,” she said softly.

NPC; Clooney Regan

She really was pretty. Beautiful, even. They saw each other infrequently, often thrown together at Regan shindigs but…hm. He blinked quickly, a look of shock flitting across his face before he wiped it away in place of one more smile. Dash had always been his sister's friend. They used to have imaginary tea parties and he used to play the waiter. Clearing his throat, he lifted a large hand and scratched the back of his neck. The only time they'd really spent together without Ruari was having a chat in the kitchen at parties. He did know the brunette fairly well and things were never awkward. Or so he hoped.

Ruari spoke of her often and kindly. From what he understood, Dash had been going through a painful break up and he made a mental note to thwack his sister when he saw her next. It was unfair. Clooney really didn't believe in the whole "the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else." Plus, he didn't really want to be a rebound guy. It had happened once and it hadn't ended too well.

Unable to help himself, Clooney threw his head back and laughed. Fully. Loud and clear like the peal of a bell. She was so sweet! Careful not to embarrass her too much, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. Dash had just put him at ease almost instantly. "Thank you," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "You're very fragrant yourself." Flirting? Maybe. He was more concerned about making herself feel as comfortable as she possibly could.

Clooney looked at her face. Happy to, really. Was that one of Ruari's dresses? He refused to look any lower than her mouth because he was well aware that Dash had grown breasts and he wasn't at all sure if he could handle that. Proudly, he looked around. "Thanks so much," he told her, genuinely pleased that she seemed to like her new surroundings. Eden was pretty much his life now, he supposed. He hadn't had a day off in about six years. Thankfully, Clooney was a humble man. He'd never bragged or boasted about what he had. If he did, his mother would have slapped it right out of him.

Once seated, Clooney grinned. At home and relaxed, he rested his elbows on top of the white linen table cloth, resting his chin in an upturned palm as he faced her. He found himself genuinely interested in what Dash had to say. As if on clue, he rolled his big bright eyes. "I love her but she's loopy," he said fondly. "You should have come along yourself, you know," he told her casually. "I'd always be pleased to see you," he paused. "I mean, we'd all be pleased to see you," he tacked onto the end in what he hoped was a casual manner.

The cheeky grin returned, his face lighting up. "Don't tell me you've got Calamity Regan to cook?" He asked with another pleasant laugh. He tilted his head at her curiously, the low lighting catching the highlights in his honey coloured hair. Clooney let out a long, low and impressed whistle as he reclined in his chair, nodding approvingly. "Well done you. Don't take it to heard if I decline her offer of pancakes," he joked.

As Dash looked away, Clooney found himself just watching her and smiling absently. He didn't really know why. He just…was. Weird. As she turned, he offered her a quick gentle smile before looking down at the table, just as a pretty waitress popped up. "Ooh hi Bronagh," he said with a smile as he looked up at the pretty redhead who was waiting. Clooney knew all of his staff by name, they didn't wear name tags. He also knew their families and their birthdays and he made sure they had the day off when theirs rolled around.

"Could we have a bottle of --" pausing, he looked to Dash with an expression that clearly read help me. "White?" He asked, cringing. He hated to order for someone else. He had no idea if Dash even likes wine, any variety. "Actually, could we have one white, red and rose please?" He asked Bronagh. There was already some water on the table and if Dash wanted anything, all she had to do was ask. He wasn't really a wine man. He was a beer on the sofa with last night's pizza kinda guy. Impressive.

Clooney hadn't even looked at the menu. He didn't need to, he wrote it. The Irishman was careful to use fresh, local and seasonal produce. Firstly to keep the costs down but to also make sure the customer's got the best food possible. He smiled once again, blushing faintly. Compliments! "My dad did most of it," he said softly, eager to shift the focus elsewhere as he placed his large, faintly tanned hands on the table gently. "I just kind of keep it running. You should come back. I can give you a loyalty card," he said with another grin.

"I'd show you around but it's pretty much kitchen and bins left," he said with a frown. If Dash wanted to stay past closing time (pfft, like she wouldn't be dying to get home already) there was a great spot to see right across the bay from just around the corner from where they were sitting. "Hey," Clooney said suddenly, reaching across the table and tapping one of her knuckles to get her attention. "Don't tell anyone but I may have some stuff left over from Valentine's Day," he told her, tapping the side of his nose as though they were in some sort of big secret. "I might be able to score you some extra chocolate fudge cake."

He was flirting with her. She was surprised. Dash had only ever really talked to Clooney one on one after she was already with Sindri. Interacting with men was easy and so very clearly  platonic by that point. For a moment, she wondered if she should take Ruari’s advice and just be herself, or if she should really try to do something here. The brunette was unsure. She didn’t even know how she felt about the man in front of her. How could she go from platonic to potentially romantic? Then again, how could she even go on a date with someone that she didn’t want to be with forever?

The thought almost made her snort out loud. It wasn’t traditional values speaking here so much as the fact that she hadn’t really dated anyone before. She and Sindri had gotten serious pretty quickly, and Dash felt like there was so much less pretense in youth. Sure, a lot of teen romances were just in-the-moment hormonal decisions, but it felt real at the time. She didn’t know what felt real at the moment. Clooney was cute, sweet. She didn’t know how to date someone, though. She didn’t know what the rules were.

Her attention turned back to the man in front of her and she scolded herself internally for letting her thoughts get so muddled. It has been over a year she reminded herself internally, repeating the words like a mantra once or twice for good measure. “I do most of the cooking,” Dash admitted with a genuine smile. She reached up with a delicate hand to flick a loose lock of hair over her shoulder. The action exposed her collarbone and shoulder. Dash straightened in her seat, reminding herself to relax and deeply wishing that he hadn’t noticed how tense she was at the beginning of their meeting.

If he had, she hoped that he noticed that she felt better now.

The girl’s hazel eyes caught his grey ones. “Ruari helps with the preparing sometimes though?” she offered, a gentle, humourous tone in her voice. Dash absentmindedly drew lazy circles with her fingers over the tabletop as she spoke, feeling the texture of the table under her fingertips. “Not everything we eat is raw or take-out these days.” Dash shook her head at the idea, fondly recalling waking up to the smell of smoke the first time Ruari had tried to cook her breakfast. After a moment, the girl decided to cut some of the nervousness. Her eyes flicked up to him once more. “You know, when she told me she’d set me up on a date… She didn’t tell me it would be you I’d be meeting. I didn’t find that out until a couple of days ago.” Dash laughed, pleased at how easy it was to do so.

Even just admitting that fact lessened the pressure of their interaction somewhat. “I don’t mind the surprise,” she added, “I think she only gave in because I refused to go on a blind date. Who knows who she would have set me up with…” Another laugh. Ruari was well meaning, but even her family knew how terrible she was at matchmaking. “This is nice though,” she added, in case he mistook her comments. Dash had still protested a little, but Ruari had told her she’d already talked to Clooney about it, and if he wasn’t opposed, then what did that say? The brunette glanced up at a beautiful waitress who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she teased softly, after he’d ordered. Perhaps she’d forgotten than he wasn’t just some bloke Ru had picked up and tried to convince her to go out with. This wasn’t too scary… It was just Clooney, after all. They were friends. Pretty much. No pressure.

Dash listened to him speak with interest. She’d wondered what it would be like to own a restaurant or a similar establishment. Maybe a coffee shop. Settling in a city was so far from any sort of realistic future for the girl, though. She’d settled in over the past year with Ruari, but had recently started looking at little cottages away from Dublin or London or anywhere big. Dash hadn’t told her blonde friend yet, though. She wasn’t planning on it, either. At least not until she was sure about what she was going to do. “I love fudge cake,” she replied with a crinkle-eyed smile.

The waitress returned with drinks and the two ordered starters. Dash allowed her companion to pour her a drink, opting for a white wine. Arden Dasher wasn't really a wine girl, but she didn't really mind it. She was more of a cider-around-a-campfire type. "So," she started, "what do you do in your spare time?" Dash raised her eyebrows, a smile in her eyes as she spoke. The brunette was obviously mocking the stereotypical interactions one might have in a situation like this one. As they spoke, their first course appeared.

NPC; Clooney Regan

Genuinely interested, Clooney nodded, encouraging her to keep going. He liked hearing her talk. "Excellent idea," he said kindly, his large hand enveloping the wine bottle as he poured them both a glass. He wasn't sure how much she liked to drink and so, he'd politely filled them to less than half. He didn't want to insinuate that Dash liked to drink by filling her glass to the top. Girls were sometimes sensitive and it was like negotiating a horrible minefield.

"Why don't you come to Sunday lunch?" Clooney asked her suddenly, looking at her as he placed the bottle down on the table. "Ruari will be there and you know most of the gang already," he said with a sunny smile. He didn't think it was an invitation for a second date but…he supposed it could be considered that. As far as he was concerned, it was just a family lunch. Dash was pretty much a Regan now anyway. She and his sister had been friends for years and years. "I'm sure mum would like to see you again," he said gently.

The Regan family lunches were varied. The family was varied. It wasn't the traditional roast dinner. Last week was Egyptian curry and it was delicious. Taking a sip of the wine, Clooney snorted with laughter. "I'm surprised you let her loose with a knife," he said with wide eyes. He loved his sister, he truly did but she was a walking disaster area. He nodded, listening. He himself was a pretty decent cook. The kitchen in Eden was so much better than the one he had back home so when he had ideas, he worked here, often into the wee hours of the morning. He always made sure to clean up because Colin, the head chef, was a brute of a man. Six foot six and built like a mountain, the ex rugby player would crush Clooney like a grape.

He looked up sharply. "She didn't?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as they clouded his handsome face before he frowned again, running a hand back through his wavy hair. That was his tell. He always did that when he was anxious about something. "Oh I'm so sorry," he said quickly and genuinely as he chewed on a full lower lip. What if she was disappointed that she was having dinner with him? Leaning back on his chair, he interlinked his long fingers on the table top. "She'd forget her head if it wasn't screwed on," he said darkly. His bright grey eyes suddenly looked stormy as his face clouded over. His sister was a moron.

In spite of himself, Clooney smiled again. "I'd rather you be out with me tonight than some stranger," he said, shifting uncomfortably. She had a point. Ruari was very hippie-eqsue and he had a vision of poor Dash going to some weird juice bar that served wheatgrass and meeting with someone who had dreadlocks and wore tie-dyed tee shirts. Yack. "Good," he said softly. He still felt a little uncomfortable now that he knew the dinner had been sprung on her. But she seemed to be content enough and for now, that was good enough for him.

Again, Clooney laughed. Loud and clear. "No!" He exclaimed as he filled her glass again before pausing. "Maybe. Just a little," he said with a roguish grin before he shook his head again quickly. "Did you want something else?" He asked Dash swiftly, not at all minding if she wanted fruit juice or a tea or something instead. Clooney didn't even really like wine. He was the type of person who nipped into the local shop, picked up a cheap bottle and used it in fondue. He was so horrible agitated by sommeliers, which is why Eden didn't have one.

"Thank goodness," he laughed good naturedly. "I'll get you some. Take some for Ruari, too. She keeps complaining that I don't give her things. You'd think she'd realise that I've got a business to run," he said with a playful roll of his big bright eyes. Dash wanted fudge cake? Dash would get fudge cake. When they were done, he'd just nip into the kitchen and box up a couple of slices for her.

"Ah, grand, thank you," Clooney said with a dimpled smile at the waitress as he picked up his cutlery. He'd opted for a very bright and attractive tomato Carpaccio. Eden used the reject tomatoes. The ones that other restaurants, shops and growers didn't want. They were yellow and green and oddly shaped, heirloom tomatoes. They were fresh and delicious. Just because they weren't ruby red and perfectly round, there was still no reason why they should be wasted. They were delicious. His large, sinewy hands looked funny as he made light work of the tomatoes, the dainty cutlery looking so out of place. Clooney was a tall, broad man. Everything about him was larger than life.

"What spare time?" He joked with a grin. "Kidding!" He said with a laugh. "Well, I like long, romantic walks on the beach," he offered, catching wind of Dash's making fun of a first date scenario. "No I actually really do," he told her seriously as he nodded, a loose wave of hair flopping into his eyes. "I don't get a lot of free time so I tend to just wander? I like visiting flea markets and museums and gardening and stuff," he said. Clooney was a simple kind of fellow. As long as he was fed and watered, he was a happy little bunny.

"How about you?" He asked keenly, looking up at her and forgetting all about his starter. "You work with animals, right?" He asked, chewing his tomato wedge politely. He was trying to rack his brain to remember her occupation. "I always thought you'd make a great vet. Or a Healer," he said conversationally. Dash was a very nice and caring young woman. It seemed like the perfect fit to him.