waverlywindsor | Ready Or Not, Here I Come [for Mark Kosik]

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Current Location: Airport--for now

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Ready Or Not, Here I Come [for Mark Kosik]

As promised, Waverly called Mark prior to boarding her plane to NYC, verifying that he would be there to pick her up. Once more she gave him her flight information, the airline and the terminal. She also told him to meet her at baggage claim since airport security made it impossible to meet people at the arrival gate these days. To ease her list of dos and don’ts into something more affable and sweet, Waverly also promised the man that if he could spot her before she found him, she’d give him that kiss he kept asking after.

The flight was relatively short, only a couple of hours and part of that was simply because they needed to navigate around a weather system, and by the time they were preparing to land, Waverly was feeling a little anxious. Being on pins and needles, fidgeting and fighting the urge to dig her nails into her armrests had nothing to do with the plane’s decent into Laguardia’s runway field—even if it was a little turbulent. No, she was nervous about meeting Mark in person.

Would he be as charming as he seemed online and over the phone? Would she still feel that personality click? Would he find her attractive? That last made her laugh quietly to herself. If the man found her winsome with her hair a tumbled mess and while wearing a baggy sweater and jeans that are more comfortable than fashionable, she might actually have to fall in love. She smirked then, the dancer taking her wardrobe choice into consideration for the first time. If he liked what he saw when she got off the plane, she was sure to blow his mind when he got a look at her all dolled up for an evening out. Travel wear seemed to suddenly have more than one purpose.

Waverly eventually disembarked and made her way through the airport she was passing familiar with, heading in the right direction and looking assured while she did it. Baggage. Not that she had much more than her carry-on with her but there was a garment bag and a small wheeled-suitcase that she needed to fetch. Of course, there was also a cop she needed to spot before she ended up having to kiss him right there for the first time. In public.

Now where would he be…?

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"I don't really require any part of the globe going boom, but it's sweet of you to offer." She made the comment lightly, as if he were proposing an offer of help for something mundane like rearranging deck furniture. It was likely an indicator that she wasn't taking him too seriously, she was sure he liked gadget and even 'boy toys' that could blow things up. Waverly just didn't think he'd really take pleasure in massive destruction.

Besides, she was playing with the red light in her hands, watching as the pulsing flash moved under her fingers and lit them from below. It reminded her of playing with a flashlight as a kid and getting a good look at muscles and tendons, the bones in her hand. Eventually, the novelty wore off and she sat the light on the dash, keeping her hand against it until she realized the weighted base wasn't going to fall.

"Do you do that a lot? Use the light when you really don't need to?"

Mark laughed. He had enjoyed watching her play with the bubble light, taking pleasure in the simple joy of seeing her smile and have fun. He hoped he could bring more smiles to her face; however they would come.

"No. . .Well, sometimes. We have, but usually? No. We just use it when it's necessary." Mark grinned. "Or to impress a pretty girl from Maine." He glanced from the traffic to her profile. "Incidentally, you're not in any kind of hurry to get to your hotel are you? Traffic is going to take us a while to work through."

"You're lucky Maine girls are pretty easy to impress." She tapped the bubble again and then sat back, looking out the window now and again as familiar parts of the city went by. "I'm not really in a rush. I just don't want to ruin your whole afternoon if you had plans, you are doing me a huge favor after all."

Waverly ran her fingers through her hair, an absent-minded gesture whenever her hair was loose instead of pulled into a tight bun. Glancing at Mark again, she fixed him with another smile. "You know, it would have been shorter if you'd gone through Tribeca..."

She had noticed his meandering detour, not that she minded, it was amusing and maybe even sweet.

"Somehow, I think that girls from Maine have pretty high standards. Everyone likes flashing lights, so that's hardly an indicator of how simple or not it is to impress someone from Maine." Mark's smile deepened. "And it's not a favor. I wanted to see you, so picking you up at the airport was not an imposition in the least."

He watched her movements out of the corner of his eye, wishing he could run his fingers through it as well. Perhaps he'd have the opportunity later, she might permit him that intimate act; and more besides. Mark arched an eye brow at her comment, amused that she wouldn't let the ploy unfold unmentioned. Of course she noticed; he was hardly trying not to be transparent, but still; at least she wasn't annoyed by the act.

"True, but this way. . .We spend a few more minutes together before I have to get back to work." Work...a place he dreaded due to his duties, not because Rick would pounce on him the moment he walked through the door demanding to know how everything went.

Waverly reached over and gave his knee a light pat, "Even if it's not imposing, you are making my life easier and so you have to let me say thank you. Really. I mean, you were going to get to see me anyway and this is making you miss a few hours of work."

It might be a little thing, but those were what Waverly appreciated more than any grand gestures. In the long run, they meant more.

"As for high standards, I might have a few, but only where it matters. Being easily amused and liking blinky pretties is more or less low on the totem pole." Her requirements for entertainment were fairly low but the woman most definitely appreciated perfection, quality and depth in most other areas of her life.

Mark's ears warmed a little at the touch of her hand on his knee. Oh yeah, he was that hard up. Inwardly Mark cringed at this thought, his flesh smoldering warmly with the phantom sensation of Waverly's fingers. He didn't grant himself the luxury of dwelling on the touch; that would be treading too close to a dangerous line. "Hours I can easily make up, please. It's hardly a sacrifice." Mark smiled at her.

"There's nothing wrong with high standards. I have them myself. It'll be interesting to compare lists at dinner." He shrugged his right shoulder and leaned his head in that direction towards Waverly. "Do you have any plans tonight? Or are you just going to settle in and relax before the stampede of your friends? And our date tomorrow night?"

She actually let herself go a bit limp in her seat at the thought of relaxing for the evening. "I think I'm being dragged to some function at the ABT, which is going to be a little like hell on earth since everyone will do that whole mock sympathy, 'we're so sorry you aren't dancing here anymore but deep down it's nice to not have the competition and thank God it wasn't my leg that gave out' thing that they do so well and I'll have to thank them and act like I'm touched when really all I am thinking is that they can go get stuffed."

After a brief silence and realizing how she must have sounded, Waverly laughed a bit and shook her head. "I'd much rather take a long, hot bath and then take advantage of the big fluffy bathrobe waiting for me and the three hundred cable channels, room service and bed."

Mark considered her situation and looked at her, "Want my advice?" He turned his gaze back out the windshield. "Given the choice between enduring the harsh judgement of your previous peers and a hot bath? I would tell my friends you're a little congested from the flight. And to make certain it doesn't turn into a cold and ruin your time in New York with them, you're going to stay in the hotel. Then have the front desk take messages for you, order room service, then take that bath you're craving. I know you were a part of that world for so long and it meant something; I get that, I do. But why the hell would you want to put yourself in a situation where they turn up their noses and lie to your face?"

She gave him an overly kind look, the sort usually reserved for a particularly slow child and shook her head. "Oh, that's just the way things are there. Everyone does it to everyone else. I was the same way, that's how I know what they really think. Brutal world. Vicious. The phrase "eat their own" really applies to professional dance."

And yet, he was giving her a valid excuse and it was tempting. "I thought cops were supposed to uphold the law and be honest, good guys. Are you actually encouraging me to lie and deceive and entire group of people?" She was joking, mostly, smiling too. "And you know, if the front desk is taking messages, you can't call me either." Waverly closed her eyes and made a pleased sound in the back of her throat, "But oh, bubble bath...temptation is a horrible thing, isn't it?"

"Okay, so go get eaten." Mark chuckled raising his right hand off the steering wheel in surrender. "I was only trying to help." He placed his hand back down and glanced at her. "I'm perfectly capable of leaving a message with the rest of your friends, but given what is facing you tonight, I'm thinking I should just keep mum until tomorrow."

Mark shook his head. "Homicide detectives deal in deception every day. You learn how to lie, and well to get anywhere in a case. Job hazard, but I'm telling you the truth right now- take the bath and steer clear of that feeding frenzy tonight."

"Mmm, maybe." She still had her eyes closed and was doing a fair job of relaxing right then and there. The thought that he had just admitted to being a professional liar did cross her mind, but she chose to ignore it. Anyone that was encouraging her to indulge in hedonistic pleasure and also volunteering to not bother her while she did it deserved to be cut some slack.

She was wilting a bit and Mark took a short cut through an alley, slowing to avoid hitting anything that would jar the car or cause damage. He merged into the street at the other end, going down two blocks before using the same tactic again. As much as he was enjoying his time with Waverly, perhaps she would have the opportunity to have that bath before sharpening her fangs to attend her other engagement.

He tensed a little, slowing even further as homeless man raised a fist, realized it was a cop car then hurriedly moved behind a dumpster and out of the way. More than identifying the car had cowed the man, Mark's stare was enough to make the man dive for cover. Stopping at the mouth of the alley, he had to wait a couple of seconds to merge into traffic again, a cab driver trying to dart past but not quite making it. It was just a few more blocks until they reached the hotel and Mark was disappointed that in less than an hour Rick would be sitting where Waverly sat, and Lee in the back seat absorbing their conversation like the third wheel that he was.

Waverly's idea of a bath and room service was abruptly appealing enough to physically hurt.

When the car came to a slow and then stopped in front of the hotel, Waverly opened her eyes and smiled. "Home sweet home." At least for the week. She also turned in her seat after releasing her safety belt, "If you do decide to call, I'm listed under Josephine Greg. That's the J in my name."

She didn't bother to tell him why the false name, she had her reasons for not wanting to be easily tracked down or bothered and the name was one she frequently used when privacy was desired. She normally kept it to herself but she didn't want him to try reaching her only to be told that she wasn't staying at the hotel. "And I think you might have to open the back door because the bell hop is looking a little scared of the cop car."

Possibly because the bubble was still sitting on the dash.

"A pseudonym. I like it. Very classy." Mark got out of the car and moved around the truck to the back door behind the passenger side. First he opened Waverly's door and then motioned to the bell hop. When he reached Mark, Mark handed him the carry on case to shoulder first. "You take good care of this little lady. If I hear you even so much as set a foot wrong, I'll be back to pay you a visit. Understand?"

The bell hop nervously vowed that he comprehended perfectly as Mark loaded him with everything but Waverly's purse. That he handed to her, dismissing the bell hop by turning his back to the man. Mark leaned down and kissed Waverly's left cheek.

"Have a good bath, and tear the other dancers to shreds." The finger tips of his left hand pushed a bit of her hair back, indulging just for a split second before he pulled his hand away. "I'll call you tomorrow morning. But not too early."

Waverly blushed a bit, looking down at the ground while she collected herself and put her purse strap over her shoulder. "You didn't have to scare the poor man, I'm sure he'll do his job." Still, it struck her as sweet if a bit overprotective of Mark to make such overtures. "I hope you have a good afternoon at work."

She gave him a smile and then with a bouncing step, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you again, for the ride, for the advice and for letting me bathe in peace tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

The woman gave his hand a light squeeze then turned to follow the doorman into the building.

Mark found himself smiling at the sensation of the kiss, his cheek warm; his stomach not far behind. He muttered a quick acknowledgment and then Waverly was gone.

Happy, Mark knew he would be able to speak to her the next morning and that evening would be their date. He was looking entirely forward to it.

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