James has an obsession. Obsession? Addiction is really a more accurate term. He gambles. Immensely. Contrary to popular belief, it's not a problem. It's only a problem if he's had too much to drink and stops counting cards or worse, advertises his technique. So far it's only happened once and he's a quick learner. He keeps a careful watch on how many games he wins in a row, always sure to throw a few. The result, though, is a pretty sweet living. He lives in a cycle of addictions: shoes, cars, and cards. Clothes make it somewhere in there too, but they're really quite negotiable. He prefers to be naked in any form he's in, to tell the truth. Well, naked with shoes on, that is.

He drives up to Becca's apartment, decked to impress. The car's not too flashy--a vibrant blue mustang--his suit's designer but he downplays it with a graphic-tee and a pair of Gucci sneakers. The only thing telling about his suit is how it's tailored. It's dark grey and fits him just so. I don't know what cologne he's wearing but it's sure to stun.

He brought flowers. Daisies.

Knock knock, Becca.

Becca answers the door in a caftan wrap around she frequently wears around the house. She's in good enough shape that she could certainly wear it out, but that would be asking for trouble. She wasn't expecting anyone, so figures it's probably someone from her coven.

Instead it's a much nicer sort of surprise. She can't help but smile at the suit and sneakers, on James it's both cute and charming. She invites him in happily, inwardly berating herself for her twin braids. She has no doubt her around the house hair must look a little childish.

James doesn't find Becca's 'around-the-house' look anything short of endearing. If he weren't going for 'smoldering hot' he might have started playing with them. Maybe after dinner.

Seduction technique #11: Be seductive.

He puts his arm up on Becca's door frame and leans, holding out the bouquet.

"Hey there. I believe these belong to you."

And Becca blushes like a school girl at the flowers. "Oh, my they're lovely."

He doesn't fail to be seductive. Something about James makes her heart do these absurd fluttery things in her chest.

It really doesn't phase him at all that he's giving a woman twelve years older than he all the symptoms of twitterpation.

He does, however, resist the temptation to eye her up and down. Instead he asks, quite innocently, "Are you ready for dinner, Pippi Longstockings?"

"If we're staying her and ordering pizza maybe. I'm not going out in public like this no matter how scatterbrained you make me gorgeous."

"Well you'd better get yourself clothed then, missy, because we're leaving in twenty minutes no matter what state of dress you're in," his eyes finally succumb to the pressure and travel down her figure, "or lack thereof."

"Oh." her voice gets considerably lower at that gaze from him. "I'll change quick." she promises. She's going to have to get a handle on herself while she does.

"Can I come in at least, or do you want me to wait in the car?" He motions towards it and puts his hand in his pocket. Tilting his head slightly, he smiles softly at her.

"Yes come in." She tells him. She meant to say that already, but she seems to have a tendancy towards air headed in his presence.

If James didn't know for a fact that he had no pheromone/sex inducing abilities, he might start to think that he's an Incubus. She is so into him. He laughs, chuckles, really, because it's endearing.

The boy has a skill. He employs it while sitting on the couch. It's called "being sexy." He's also employing "be aloof."

Whatever it is, it works for him. Becca peaks out to sneak glances at him a few times while she changes into a little black dress, and her two braids get turned into one.

James is listening to the music in his head, and glad for having had a decent swim today. When he sees her peeking out, he makes a show of looking at his watch.

"Tick tock, Becca.."

She's ready in eighteen minutes. But she did use some tricks to get her light makeup right, and deal with that braid.

He looks up when she presents herself and remembers just how much he loves subtle beauty. If there were other women here, you could say that he only has eyes for her. As it is, there are no other women here, but it's still true.

When he asks if she's ready, it's soft and spoken gently.

He was telling her the truth before, about being all gentleman-like. Every door is held for her.

"I'm ready. Thanks for waiting." She's completely flattered by how gentlemanly he is.

That took a while to learn, let me tell you. Not only can he pass for a human but he has charm, to boot, something his relatives had a much harder time grasping. Most people they come in contact with want to wash afterwards. They didn't learn to mainstream well. Hence, they keep to the waters pretty much all the time.

"Then let's go, Gorgeous, or we'll be late!"

It isn't a long ride to the restaurant, maybe fifteen minutes until he pulls into the parking lot of "The Melting Pot." When he opens her car door, he even holds out his hand to help her up.

Becca is enchanted, it would be hard for her to be more enchanted even if he'd used a spell on her. James, makes her feel young, and adventerous again. Becca prefers it to feeling like a used up widow.

That sentiment would make James very glad. It could be true that maybe his fascination with the fairer sex is a tad over stimulated, but he does genuinely care, if only for a brief amount of time. He does want to make this a great experience for Becca, from what he's seen she deserves it.

In allusion to their meet-cute: "I bet you've never had hot chocolate like this before," he ushers her into the restaurant and gets them a table. Ah, the joys of fondue.

The atmosphere certainly seems nice, classy without being too stuffy. She grins at his reference to hot chocolate.

"You see," he grins over a menu, "I remembered. Order anything you want, by the way."

The waiter comes over to grab their drink orders. James gets the house red.

"So are you up for a four course meal or do you want to skip straight to dessert?"

"Depends, do women with appetites bother you?" She doesn't necessarily mean that the way it could be taken, but she isn't afraid to eat.

"Are you kidding?" James has to stop himself. He really wants to quip, more cushion for the pushin', but doesn't. He's pretty sure that Becca will find it hilarious but, well, you never know. It doesn't help that they're in a nice place. In stead, he finishes with, "There's not a sexier thing in this world than a woman confident in herself. Eat away, Pippi."

The pipi thing makes her blush. "I'm never answering my door in pigtails again." she states in a mock mortified tone. She seems to be inclined to make this a four coarse meal as suggested. Dessert is always better when one is patient Becca finds.

"So," he starts the conversation off light, "How's business going?"

It's small talk, yes, but it's not really just conversation to keep their mouths moving. He really wants to know. He's interested. He doesn't have a lot of ambition and is really fascinated by anyone that does. It might be part of the reason he's so attracted to the woman in all truth.

"So so. Not a lot of walk in traffic lately, but I've been doing alright with internet orders for books and wands, and odd little trinkets. Plus I have my faithful regulars who are forever special ordering, or putting things on lay-a-way." She answers honestly. It may not be the most glamourous life ever, but Becca's content with it and managing to pay her bills. She really can't complain.

"So does all that wand stuff really work or is it more like something to channel? I've always wondered.." he is, of course, assuming that Becca believes in what she's doing. That's not to say that he's assuming she's initiated into the real world of witches and spells, because a person can absolutely believe something no matter how bogus it is.

However, he also wants to know for his own benefit. He knows stuff about the magical world, mostly that it's there, but that knowledge is kind of default to the way he was born. He knows nothing about the technicality of anything.

"That more depends on the practitioner than the wand. Suffice it to say, they can get results." she says without saying too much. She has no way of knowing the truth about him, so it's best to give sort of vague explanations until she knows him a bit better.

"Okay, well, put it this way," elbows have appeared on the table top and he's leaning curiously over the edge, "Say you need to look across time and space. Would you really need a crystal ball for that? Is there anything inherently special about a lump of polished rock?"

...yeah.

"Again, depends on the practitioner. Some do it in little pools of water, or in mirrors, I imagine there's some cult somewhere scrying in the still waters of toilet bowls."

"Scrying, so there's a term?"

If James were in immediate possession of a steno pad and pencil...he might as well be pushing up his glasses and wearing a pocket protector.

He's a little too interested at the moment. The extent to which he's leaned over the table has so diminished his cool factor.

He sits back and straightens his jacket.

"Should I loan you some books?" Becca asks. His interest hasn't gone beyond cutely curious to her yet.

"Aw, well, you know, that depends." Shrug. A sheepish little half-smile sits at the corner of James' mouth.

Yay! Foods' here: distraction.

Perhaps she'll remember to ask what it depends on later. "Looks fabulous." she comments as her first dish is set in front of her. It smells divine too.

"The best," James takes a big whiff of his meal, "Mm, meat."

That's another thing about getting to switch back and forth. Being a seal's fun, but there's no such thing as steak.

Becca can hardly live without meat when rituals call for fasting, she probably couldn't handle life without steak. "Meat is good." she agrees while cutting into her own.

'Rituals' is one of those cringe worthy words for James. There are some among his family who are what people refer to as 'religious.' It all has something to do with serving the gods who gave them these forms or some kind of similar trash. Regrettably, these members of his family are a little closer than third cousin twice removed. His mother has forced him to go to 'worship' at every opportunity. So does his uncle. It's crap.

"So, any hobbies? Quirks? Children?"

Hey, some baggage you gotta get out of the way first thing.

"Dancing, but not in public, so is that a hobby or quirk, I don't know. No children...We...I didn't have any, but we weren't trying not to." she stammers the last bit. It's something she regrets a little, that she doesn't have that little piece of her late husband, in the form of genetic contribution to mutual offspring.

That last bit was pretty definitely past tense. He didn't mean to bring up a touchy subject. James reaches across the table and slips his fingers underneath to cradle hers.

"I'm sorry for that. I'm sure you'd be an excellent mother," a completely sincere sentiment, "I'm almost certain that you're a terrific dancer," almost completely sincere.

She smiles, he's so sweet really. "Maybe I'll let you find out." she tells him regarding the dancing. She doesn't mention the subject of children again, it had sort of leaked out. How awkward and unfun for him.