[mcg] under summer sky [kate]

saturday 23rd august

At the time, offering to do extra-long shifts on the Thursday, Friday, and Sunday had seemed a fair (worthwhile) exchange to get the Saturday afternoon off, but halfway through the morning Noah was wondering if it really had been a smart move -- he was already exhausted, misjudging just how busy the event was and how popular Scottish-Mexican fusion was going to be.

But when he spotted Kate, waiting where he’d told her to meet him, his dread about another long shift in the sun tomorrow melted away. A wide grin grew on his mouth, his straight white teeth taking over his face as he approached with a whisky margarita in each hand (Emma had said they were more than drinkable -- and he hadn't thought through the whole not telling Emma he'd invited Kate up here too, and it didn't occur to him that as friends they might have discussed this between themselves).

He held his arms out to Kate as he grew closer; "Hey, you made it--" He stopped short of hugging her, unsure if that was too much and expertly (not really) turned the half-started motion into handing her one of the drinks. "It's uhh, a whisky margarita. Scotch, obviously." The New Yorker chewed on his bottom lip for a second; he was closer now and reminded how stunningly gorgeous she was, even in something as simple as jeans and a blouse. He realised he was staring and glanced away, up at the sun shining down upon them. "You, uhh, not hot in those?" he asked, gesturing at her long pants. Admittedly it was Scotland in Summer, not California, but still; Noah was in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, hadn't been convinced to wear a kilt yet despite several rather insistent (drunk, older, female) customers telling him he could pull it off.

"You had much of a look yet?"


@Kate Baker

Kate had waffled between outfit ideas for days before coming on this trip--one that she expected to only be a day trip, because while she knew the games went on through the weekend, she’d heard through the grapevine that she wasn’t the only girl Noah had invited. Kate wasn’t naive enough to think she had some sort of claim on him at all (even though she’d felt like there had been some kind of chemistry, at her party) or even that there was something between Noah and Emma, but it was a distinct possibility, wasn’t it?

Emma had been her friend first, and she loved her, so there would be no hard feelings (that she’d take out on Emma) if it ended up shaking out that way. They were both her friends, truly, and she’d be happy for them if they ended up together, but part of Kate had sort of been hoping that this invitation to this event was intended to be, like, a date. Girls talked, so the last time she’d been at Emma’s house she’d gotten the intel that she would be here too, if at a different time, and she decided shortly after that that jeans and a blouse would suffice just fine for this outing.

The weather never got hot enough in Britain for Kate to ditch jeans altogether like she had to sometimes at home, so jeans would be a better fit for the daytime and into the evening. Her blouse was cream-colored and short-sleeved, with eyelet lace patterns and a neckline that was somewhere between modest and... whatever the opposite of modest was that wasn't a demeaning word. Neutral.

Kate stood in the place she’d been instructed to come to wait for Noah and was increasingly glad she’d chosen something more casual as he approached in his basketball shorts. That made her smile, and she tried to go in for the half-hug he presented her with, but ended up awkwardly grabbing the drink instead when he seemed to change his mind midway. “Hey. Sounds great, thank you for grabbing one for me,”

She wasn’t hot at all, but it was sunny enough that the sunglasses she had tucked somewhere in her backpack might come in handy. “No, not hot. I’m from California, remember?” Kate grinned again and paused, pulling her backpack off to dig for those sunglasses, and slid them quickly onto her face once located. “Pretty sunny, though. It’s really nice. I haven’t, uh--looked around much yet, no. Just came straight here to wait for you. I didn’t want to spoil anything.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, too anxious about this whole thing to remember to smile.

She was from California. “Oh, right,” he said, as though he had -- or could have -- forgotten. Everything about her screamed California -- from her sun kissed skin to the valley girl accent. He smiled back at her grin, then watched curiously as she fiddled with her backpack. “Yeah, it is,” he replied, gazing skywards and squinting -- there wasn’t a cloud to be seen, apart from a couple of little whisps still hanging on, and he hadn’t thought he would need sunglasses in Scotland after being told for weeks that the weather here was always terrible. He felt like today was the sunniest day of the event so far -- or maybe Kate’s presence was just making him think so.

Noah looked back at her. “Oh, cool.” He nodded, quietly pleased that she hadn’t already done a circuit without him, which meant he could sort of take the lead. “Well then, it depends what you’re into,” he started, beginning to walk in one direction just to save them from standing there awkwardly any longer. “There’s lots of food and drink stalls and then like, people throwing trees and shit,” he smirked, widening his eyes in a way that communicated how fucking weird it was that people just threw trees for fun.

He sipped at his whisky margarita and licked his lips, pleasantly surprised by how refreshing it was. “Are you hungry? We could just try all the testers, nobody’ll notice,” he grinned lopsidedly.

Naturally, Kate’s little feet followed him as he started off, and she focused on the ground (and holding her drink steady) for the most part. She was thinking hard about how if she spilled on her nearly-white shirt, that would be unfortunate--and then remembered, with a wash of feeling stupid to follow, that she was a witch. God, she was probably rusty enough that even a stain removal spell could be difficult to perform for her right now.

As Noah was speaking, a hauntingly familiar smell hit her nose, and her eyes widened while she realized, with great horror, what that smell was. Confections and candy were a source of joy for most people, of course, but for Kate they were a very clear sign to stay away. Kate’s shoes kicked up some dust as she screeched to a halt in the middle of the walkway, paying no mind to the irritated scoffs she heard from other people hindered behind her.

Her fingers reached out to grab Noah’s forearm and she side-eyed the booth, stuttering “uhhhh,” very sharply. “Yes, uhh. I’m hungry, just. Can we go some… other way? I can’t go by Honeydukes.” Of course Honeydukes was here, she should have known that was going to be a possibility; the event was in Scotland. “Unless you like… walk on the side it’s on and hide me.” Not suspicious at all.

Noah had continued walking, not spotting Kate--a good foot shorter than him--stop suddenly. He only realised when her hand grasped at his arm and he looked down, mistaking it for a bold attempt to hold his hand and drawing his elbow back to be able to wrap his digits around hers— before he caught her expression and stopped before he could get that far.

“What?” Noah looked in the direction Kate was staring, spotted the brightly coloured candy stall, and then looked back at Kate, who was suddenly extremely pale. “I—” He moved to shield her the moment she suggested he do so, but hadn’t continued walking yet. “Why?” he asked, a little confused but mostly concerned. He glanced over his shoulder again and spotted a man working the till -- he was a little shorter than the New Yorker, but (Noah could freely admit) much better looking. Classically handsome. And pulling off that kilt in a way Noah certainly couldn’t have. Was he another ex of Kate’s? Or had he tried to hit on her? Was he some kind of creep?

“We can go another way but you gotta tell me why,” Noah said, his tone suddenly austere as he touched one hand to Kate’s upper arm reassuringly. He wasn’t about to start something in front of all of these people--this Honeydukes stall was pretty popular, judging by the line--but he felt like if he didn’t ask now Kate would brush it off later.

Kate felt the last drop of blood drain from her face and she barely registered Noah’s touch on her upper arm. She stared, eyes glassy and blank, toward the ridiculously hot-pink-colored booth for another minute, the music emitting from it echoing in her mind in distorted chants. Her brain caught up a few seconds later and relayed all the information she’d missed to her memory, jerking her head as she snapped to.

“Uhh,” She started again, rather dumbly, and backed up a few paces to the side to get out of the way of the foot traffic that was, regrettably, congesting behind them.

“It’s kind of complicated, but.” Kate shook her head and flicked her eyes toward the ground at the same time her hand slid back through her brown hair. Nervous habit. She had other nervous habits, too, including a recent misuse of alcohol, but this one (fiddling with her hair) was relatively harmless in comparison.

“The short story is that I can’t. Go to Honeydukes because my ex-husband kind of. Has a.” She circled her hand around in a silly gesture, “Thing. For the owner of that. Place.” She didn’t want to validate this woman’s business any further than she had to; she didn’t want to see her; she certainly didn’t want to patronize it.

Noah followed Kate a few paces further from the stall and glanced over his shoulder to see if they’d been spotted. He turned back to face her and his brow furrowed as he listened to her stilted explanation. Her ex-husband—that still knocked him off-balance: firstly, she was, what, twenty? Too young to be divorced already; and secondly, what sort of dumbass would divorce her?

But apparently said dumbass had a thing for the owner of the candy store. Noah looked over at the man in the kilt again and tried to keep his face impassive. “He...” It was no use: he frowned confusedly. Kate’s ex was into that guy? Noah’s eyes quickly scanned the stall -- admittedly, there was a lot of pink. And the kilt. And he was like, kind of pretty, Noah supposed. He hadn't known Kate's ex was into guys too, but to each their own.

“What sort of thing?” he asked, turning back to the petite witch again and shielding her more earnestly as he herded her past the booth to a safe perimeter. “Like, did he…?” Noah didn’t really want to bring it all up here, when he was trying to spend some one-on-one time with Kate, but it seemed inevitable that no matter where they were or what they were doing or who they were with, there’d be some kind of reminder for Kate of her ex-husband and the way he had treated her. Hell, Noah was sick of hearing Banshee’s stupid songs on the kitchen radio, he couldn’t imagine how she felt. He chewed on his lip and eyed his cup of slushy margarita, held low by his side.