It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year...

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

An out-of-towner wouldn't know that it's December in San Francisco, much less that there are only two shopping weeks until Christmas. There isn't a speck of snow to be seen, and the temperature is in the mid-fifties with a light breeze blowing down Market Street, swirling through the Union Square Shopping District. All the hallmarks of the Christmas shopping season, however, are in full force, with large wreathes hanging from light posts, Christmas muzak being pumped through the speakers in front of almost every store in the area, and the enormous tree situated in the middle of the Square.

Then, of course, there are the crowds.

Fathers and mothers and children and teenagers and grandparents. The list goes on. Families with one kid, two kids, half a dozen. This was the part of the holidays that Grant really wasn't too big on. He doesn't mind the muzak - in fact, he actually rather enjoys Christmas music - or even the laborious process of shopping. Children, really, don't bother him either. He'd only just visited a children's hospital and he and Flamebird had both agreed that it was a great experience. But the huge crush of people milling about, jostling one another, parents chasing down an errant child. He can handle fighting super villains, but a stampede of wild shoppers is rather terrifying.

Still, he was determined to get something nice for Mar'i. She had been informed by Nightwing that her former lover, Ibn, had returned, apparently from the dead - only he hadn't bothered to contact her directly or even leave her a message. Grant and Mar'i had talked about it and he'd been rather pleased - and not a little surprised - that she still wanted to date him. Not that he wouldn't have gotten her something before, but now, Grant wants to make her present particularly special.

Walking through the shopping district, wearing a light jacket to ward off the brief gusts of wind, Grant moves along slowly, looking at each of the shop fronts, a small frown resting on his features. "This is harder than I thought..." he says to no one in particular.

Comments

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

The packages had been obstructing his view while he was walking behind her, but when Grant turns to look over his shoulder at Fire, he's rather surprised to find the woman staring at him. It took her a moment to answer, so apparently she'd been distracted. He hopes the relatively dark lighting of the place is hiding the color he feels rising in his cheeks.

Setting the presents down on the floor, Grant sits down on the couch, keeping a respectable distance between Bea and himself. "Me?" Grant asks. Yeah, you. Duh. "I, uh...I don't drink, actually. Just a Zesti is fine. Soder if you don't have it," he says to the bartender, glancing at Bea.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

He may be keeping his distance, but that just gives her someplace to prop her feet. Right in his lap. She orders without taking her eyes off of Grant, that smirk seemingly permanently on her face.

"Tonic with extra lime. Cheeseburger, medium rare, fries. And whatever this menino do açúcar wants."

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

How she's wearing shoes like this when it's less than sixty degrees out is beyond him, but that thought pretty much goes right out the window as the green-haired woman swings her feet into Grant's lap, catching him unawares.

"Uh...that...yeah, that sounds fine. But medium-well is good for me," he says, looking up at the bartender, watching as the man jots down the order, then heads for the kitchen.

Grant shifts a little then so that the heels aren't digging into anything important, then turns to look at Fire, lips parted with words that take a moment to emerge. "Uh...do you...do you live here in San Francisco?" he finally inquires.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She shakes her hair out of her face, leaning back against the arm of the couch. The movement is also her answer which she backs up verbally.

"Nope. Currently between residence at the moment, though I'm renting a place in Gotham. You?"

She stretches idly, like a pampered cat, while waiting his answer.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

A quick glance at her feet, then his eyes shift toward the reclining woman. Of all the place he'd lived in out east, Gotham hadn't been one of them. Baltimore was about the roughest city he'd lived in, and Gotham made Baltimore look like Pleasantville.

"I actually live in Titans Tower with the rest of the team," Grant says. "Here in San Francisco." Yeah, no kidding. It's the big, giant 'T' on an island near the Golden Gate Bridge in the middle of San Francisco Bay.

"Um..." Grant pauses, trying to figure out how to converse with this woman when she's got her feet resting in his lap. "So, are you just out here for business or just taking in the sights?"

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She points to the packages on the floor next to them with her foot.

"Christmas shopping. San Fran has some of the best stores and Gotham was too cold for this outfit. You looking for a present for Ma Damage?"

She blows the bartender a kiss as he delivers her tonic and lime.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Accepting his Zesti from the bartender, Grant takes a sip, then sets it on the table in front of him, shifting a little to better accommodate Bea's sandaled feet. He looks over at her again as she mentions the outfit - sandals, tight jeans, and an equally tight long-sleeved shirt. He'd have to be dead not to notice, but he doesn't stare. Maybe that strikes her as odd, maybe it doesn't.

"No," he replies with a shake of his head. "I was actually trying to figure out what to get for my girlfriend." The explanation brings a smile to his face. The conversation with Mar'i had gone a long way to dissuade him of any doubts he'd been having about the two of them. Somehow, he still can't quite believe his luck.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

Girlfriend? Shit. Oh well. Looks like my luck is holding true to form.

She's not all that disappointed though since she grins and nudges his chest gently with a sandal. "O menino do açúcar é demasiado doce! Too cute! What did you have in mind?"

Not being stared at doesn't strike her as odd. It's almost a relief.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

As her feet shift on his lap, Grant turns his head to look at her - Bea's smile is contagious, and the rather small smile that had been on his face a moment before becomes quite a bit wider. He has absolutely no idea what she's saying, but she's smiling and she sounds excited - whatever it is, she makes it sound really nice.

"Uh, well, I'm not real sure. We...haven't been dating all that long," Grant explains, gesturing vaguely, laughing a little at the nudging of sandal against his chest. "It's been a month and a couple of weeks."

Taking another sip of his Zesti, Grant turns toward Beatriz again. "I know that she really likes chocolate and she enjoys gardening," he says quietly.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

Her eyes go to the packages on the floor. "Might be something in that pile that meets that." She shrugs. "I can't remember what I bought today, but you're welcome to search through it."

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Grant looks down at the packages, then quickly shakes his head, smiling. "No, that's alright. I couldn't do that," he says quickly, leaning against the back of the couch. "Thanks though."

The bartender comes out then, carrying two plates, then sets them down on the table. Grant really hopes that Bea is going to move her feet, because otherwise, this could get even more awkward than it already is.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She moves her feet. All the better to dig into her half raw meat.

She shrugs after taking a bite. "They're all for me anyway. Don't have anyone to buy for so it's not as if anyone would be missing them."

Another grin and a wink.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

He won't complain - after all, how many of the Titans can say they've been nudged in the chest by Fire? - but he's glad she's decided to sit up. Grant usually doesn't do well with...forward.

Reaching for his burger, he takes a bit, then sips from his drink, listening as she speaks. Despite the smile and the wink, Grant can't help but think there's a little sadness behind that statement. Maybe not.

"This is the first time I've bought presents for anyone in the last four years," he says, looking over at Bea, his smile somewhat subdued.