A Friendly Date (Closed for Now)

[Racetrack]

Racetrack walked toward the betting booth with his new friend, Sapphy, looking around at the large, unruly crowd with satisfaction. "I love when it's like this, don't you? Makes it feel like a bigger deal, when so many folks turn out. I talked to a friend or two about the horses that are running tonight, if you're interested...unless you're not betting," he added considerately, remembering that she was a lady and all.

[Sapphy]

"Maybe later," she commented, eyes darting around to take everything in. Sapphy was so happy, she was practically vibrating with excitement. "I like to place my bets after getting a chance to watch the horses stretch their legs a bit."

[Racetrack]

"Smart move," said Race with a touch of admiration. He generally had a whole strategy before he even got to the tracks, but then, he was usually already familiar with most of the horses. Not this time.

Nonetheless, he put his money on Shadow Queen before finding them a seat near the starting gate, so they could watch the jockeys put the horses through their paces. He was easily as excited as Sapphy, even though he was here practically every other night.

[Sapphy]

"So. Taking a wild stab in the dark... You're named Racetrack because of this place," she grinned, hands wrapping around the railing in front of them.

[Racetrack]

"You found me out," he said in a mock-rueful tone, and added, "I come here so much the jockeys and the bookies know my name. The bookies love me, and the jockeys hate me. I give 'em too much advice." He smiled at her. "I'd ask how you got the name Sapphire Eyes, but it seems pretty obvious."

[Sapphy]

"I'm a homicidal maniac who targets people with blue eyes -- I pluck them out with a spoon."

[Racetrack]

((I swear to gods I've read a crack fic where that actually took place. ^_^))

Race shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, that's what I assumed. I mean, you've got the feminine wiles, the air of mystery...you'd have no problem luring in your victims. Not sure about this spoon business, I'd use something more efficient myself, but if it works for you..."

The stands were really filling up now, and a couple of guys yelled Race's name, waved, and gave Sapphy speculative looks. Race greeted them all, and dutifully informed one man's five-year-old daughter that she was looking lovelier every day, and he was sure she'd pick a winner this time.

[Sapphy]

((LOL nice))

"You really are here everyday, ain'tcha?" Sapphy smiled. She studied Race's face for a moment, eyes dropping to his teeth. Sapphy had a weird thing about teeth. She felt if she stared at a person's teeth long enough, she'd know who they were inside and out.

[Racetrack]

He nodded. "Any time I'm not at the wolf traps, or getting into some kinda trouble with Blink and Mush." He felt her eyes moving over his face in that frighteningly intimate way she had, but he just played it cool and went on smiling. People had all kinds of ways to judge other people, and he didn't want to fail her tests, whatever they might be.

((Going out to dinner--hopefully be back later!))

[Sapphy]

He had cute, crooked teeth. She was satisfied for now.

Sapphy looked away and out towards the turf. She breathed deeply. "One of my top three favorite smells in the world is freshly cut grass," she sighed.

[Racetrack]

"It's a good one," he agreed, breathing deeply. He also kind of liked the horsey smell of the stables, but he wasn't about to mention that. "What are the other two?"

[Sapphy]

"Number two is clean laundry," Sapphy said. No mention of a number one was to come. She smiled at Racetrack.

"What smells do you like? Or is that a weird question?"

[Racetrack]

"It is," he admitted, "but now that I know all three of your secret identities, you're entitled to a few weird questions.

"Hmm, well...all right, I think the stables smell kinda nice. The hay and the horses and everything. Manure and all," he added with a smirk. "And cigar smoke, I'm used to that, obviously, so it's relaxing. But Italian kitchens are prob'ly at the top of my list."

[Sapphy]

"I come from an Irish kitchen, so I wouldn't know," Sapphy said apologetically. "And I agree about cigars. Can't stand the taste, but I love the smell, too."

[Racetrack]

"My dad was Irish. My mother made what he liked once in a while...lots of potatoes, if I recall correctly, and black and white pudding. But it was her kitchen, really--lasagna, ravioli, tortellini, biscotti..." The very words made his mouth water. "You should try Mama's sometime. Uh, not my mama's, but Mama's Italian Restaurant, in Little Italy. Pretty long jaunt from here, but trust me, it's worth it."

The jockeys were putting the horses through their paces now. Race watched them trot back and forth on the glass, their coats brushed to a gloss, their manes and tails blowing in the breeze. "Whadda you think? Picked out a favorite yet?"