Working up the Courage [Misha]

[Tristan Alexander]

The perfect words never crossed my mind,
Cause there was nothin' in there but you.
I felt every ounce of me screaming out,
But the sound was trapped deep in me.

A few blocks away from the mall sat Sam's Music Store, which boasted both cds, music lessons, and instruments. Anything musically inclined could be found there, so naturally it was where Tristan worked part-time around his class schedule.

Tristan emerged from the back room of the music store, pushing a cart of cds. Just after he’d finished giving someone a music lesson, his boss had sent him to restock the inventory. He liked working here at Sam’s Music but more often than not he preferred giving music lessons to the tedious tasks that needed to be done around the store, but more often than not as one of the younger employees there, he was constantly sent to do the more tedious tasks.

His green polo shirt and khakis looked so extraordinarily out of place on him, but it was part of the store's uniform policy. As an added irritation, they didn't like any types of tattoos in plain sight, so he was required to wear a white long sleeved shirt beneath his polo to cover up the tribal on his right arm.

He stopped the cart next to the Rap section and began sorting through the cds, mixing the new in with those that were already there. As he was restocking, the door to the music store opened, the bell echoing through the medium-sized store announcing the arrival of yet another customer. Normally, Tristan wouldn't have even bothered lifting his head from his work, but he was bored anyway.

He glanced at the woman who walked through the door, not really paying attention, before he did a double take and realized he recognized her. Automatically his heart began speeding up as Misha entered the store and he glanced toward the break room. Technically he wasn't allowed to take another break since his shift was almost over but... Argh! Wish I could use my powers off-campus. I'd finish this so much faster. Why was he freaking out? Why was he suddenly so nervous. No other girl really had this effect on him right now. He felt like the answer was obvious, but he didn't want to admit it to himself because then it would mean he would have to work up the nerve to do something about it.

Tristan stood rooted to the spot for a few moments before he tried to brush it off and get back to work, placing CDs under the correct names. It didn't take more than a few seconds however before his eyes nor his mind could no longer focus on his work. His body moved mechanically as he put the CDs away. He couldn't help but watch her as she made her way through the store, his eyes following her as the nervous beating in his chest refused to stop. What had made her come to this particular store on this particular day? Did she know he worked here? Was she just here to buy something? That had to be it, she was just buying something. His mind raced as it searched for answers before he stopped on one that made the most sense: she was here to buy a CD. That was the most likely possibility.

Tristan seemed to relax a little bit when his mind came to this conclusion but it didn't take more than a few more seconds before he realized he was standing in one of the aisles containing CDs, putting them on the shelves. What if she came down to the CD section? What if she saw him? He began to grow more and more nervous by the moment but simply watched her to see where she was going to go.

[Misha Rivers]

Speak for me
This is my plea
Say the words I can't express

Misha walked into Sam's Music Store. She was alone, just out and about today, and the idea of maybe buying a new CD had been seemed nice. That, and then there was the fact that she didn't get off the grounds of Sententia nearly as much as she'd like. She tended to stay off as long as she could when she did get off because of this, though she constantly told herself that she could just make a point of coming out here a little more often.

Her hair was down straight, the cut bringing it just past her chin. Along with that she wore a white sweater and a navy blue skirt that fell to just above her knees. It kind of had a school girl look to it that wasn't helped at all by the newboy cap she wore on her head. She'd somewhat regretted the outfit choice after she'd gotten into town, but by then it had been too late to do anything about it.

She started wandering down the rows of CDs, searching for an artist she liked or a Soundtrack CD for a musical that she didn't already own. She didn't really notice anyone else until she'd gotten to the back of the store. She glanced, up and towards the cash register, and she saw Tristan standing between her and the door wearing the green polo and khaki shorts of store employee. He wasn't purposefully blocking her way from the looks of things, but he was staring at her.

Quickly she tilted her gaze downward to the CD she held in her hand, trying to make her hair and the bill of her hat hide her face so she wouldn't accidentally fade away in a public place. He's watching me, she thought as she felt her face burning with a blush. Was that good, or bad?

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan kept his mouth shut, but subconsciously began grinding his teeth, irritated with himself. Why am I making such a big deal out of this? Just.. talk to her! Say something! He'd never had problems talking to girls before, he tried to reason with himself. As he thought back to why that could possibly be, he blinked slowly. I never really liked them... Not like this. His eyes stayed on Misha as she moved to the back of the store. He snapped out of his thoughts and realized he was staring as she noticed him and quickly turned away, glancing downward.

Tristan quickly lowered his gaze to the current CD in his hand, pretending to be really busy as he finished restocking the last of the Rap CDs. He tried to pretend he hadn't been staring at her, but it was difficult as his face began to burn as a result of being caught staring. Jeez he thought, nerves kicking in once again as he realized his face was turning red. He lifted his palm to his face and covered it for a few moments until it went away. He couldn't believe himself, why did it bother him so much that he'd been caught staring?

Tristan cleared his throat and lifted his head as he pushed the cart down the aisle, moving to the next aisle over. He was trying to finish this up so he could get out of here. With only a few CDs left, he stocked his last set and began pushing his empty cart toward the back. He'd tried to ignore Misha as he finished, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The more he tried not to think about her, the more he did. He wanted to ignore her until she left the store so his heart would stop beating so rapidly, but the thought of her leaving without him having a chance to say anything to her seemed devastating to him.

Mouthing a few words to himself as he tried to come up with something to say, Tristan shook his head now and then, pushing the cart toward the stock room. He tried not to look at her so he wouldn't lose focus on what he was going to say, but couldn't help but steal a glance at her as he passed by where she stood, passing through the aisle a couple of rows away. In that moment his mind blanked, and he forgot completely what he was going to say.

Tristan flinched and looked away quickly, not wanting to get caught staring at her again as he wheeled the cart and disappeared momentarily into the store's stock room. He replaced it where it needed to go and stood there for a few moments, trying to shake off the nervousness that was plaguing him. Just do it, just go talk to her. Hurry up, don't stay back here! What if she leaves?? What if she got the wrong idea about me? What if she thinks I'm avoiding her? The last question moved Tristan enough that he hurried out of the stock room and back into the store, glancing around as though in a panic.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted her where he'd left her. Time hadn't really passed between him disappearing in the back and returning, at least not for a normal person. To anyone else he'd only been gone for a few seconds, but to him it seemed like an eternity. Being a speedster had that effect on him now, he forgot people didn't move at his pace.

With that, Tristan finally made up his mind and headed toward Misha was standing, casually placing his hands in his pockets to make himself appear more calm and collected than he really felt. As he slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, he glanced down and really saw his uniform the way it probably looked to her. He cursed himself, feeling like a dork and nearly turned around and changed his mind, at that moment hating the store uniform, but he didn't. He paused and turned, facing away from her as he clenched his teeth. Fuck! Why did I have to meet her at work? She comes in looking really cute, and what the hell do I look like?? He bit his lip, unable to stay irritated about the uniform for very long, for he began really thinking about how cute she always looked. As his mind began to wander, trying to remember every instance he'd seen her recently, he shook his head, reminding himself that she was standing just a few feet away!

Tristan turned back around, facing Misha and proceeded to close the distance between them, passing a few more aisles of CDs before he twisted into the one she was standing in. As he saw her standing before him, he forgot what he was going to say once again, awestruck that he'd had enough nerve to even come this close to her. As his brain blanked out, some part of it went into auto-mode and he blurted out, "H-Hey. Need any help?"

Inwardly he began cursing himself for choosing that particular set of words as the first he spoke to her, but outwardly his mouth turned upward in a slight smile, trying to keep cool and collected.

He sighed, waiting for the inevitable 'no' that he usually got from most customers, a little discouraged that he was sure he'd be getting the same response from her. He didn't know it for a fact, he just thought she'd say no, and that would be the end of the only conversation they'd ever had.

But something within him wouldn't let him give up and let it be over that easily. No matter what his response was, he found it within himself to add, "You're Misha...right?" trying to continue playing the casual card, as though he really didn't know. "You go to Sententia too."

[Misha Rivers]

Misha slowly turned back to the rack of CDs and started looking through it. Just the fact that she could see her hands as they picked up CDs so she could get a better look was a slight comfort. That fact revealed that she was still visible, she hadn't revealed that she was a fader in public. Not yet anyways. Though, how much would that matter? All things considered you did reveal that in court so you could be a witness to Tyrell's murder.

She shook off those thoughts. Revealing your powers wasn't something people took well, a fact Misha knew from experience. If she could help it she wasn't going to repeat that move. She may have had a reason the first time, but this time it would probably just get her into trouble.

Even with her back turned to him, she felt like she could feel Tristan watching her. Why was it that she caught his attention, shy and quiet her? She couldn't really tell. At least the blush was going away, which meant crisis averted for the moment. Though with him still there that was probably only a very short moment. One word from him, another glance his way, and she'd be right back in that situation.

She tried not to glance at him, not to think about him. The first was slightly easier than the second though. She hadn't seen him move past her into the stock room, so she knew he was still there and as soon as she turned around she'd see him. That fact alone kept him in her mind rather than out of it.

Eventually she saw him go past her into the stock room, or she thought it was him. She was still glancing down so all she'd seen was the store uniform, the cart he'd been pushing, and the white, long sleeve shirt that was probably to cover the tattoo on his arm.

She let herself relax and even risked a glance up to be sure it had been him. That was probably why his voice moments later caughter her off guard. Or part of it anyways. The other part was the stutter in his speech. He's.... nervous? Why would he be nervous though. He was popular and Misha was practically invisible. What reason could he possibly have for being nervous about talking to her.

Wake up girl, he asked you a question. The least you can do is answer him. Actually, by this point he'd asked her two questions. The first one was whether she needed any help. The second was confirming her identity.

She mentally composed what she was going to say and then she looked up. As soon as she saw his face the words evaporated. For a moment all she could do was stare at him. He didn't look quite as cool as he did in something a little more his style, but she didn't so much mind him in something a little less casual. "Y-yeah," she managed to stutter. Then she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, yes I'm Misha, yes I go to Sententia, and actually I could use some help."

What was she doing? She hadn't actually been looking for anything specific, so why was she asking for help? Quickly she ran over in her mind the CDs she had and the ones she wanted uttering the first one she could think of. "Les Miserables."

She blushed slightly and corrected herself again. "I-I was looking to see if you had the soundtrack for the musical Les Miserables. The music is amazing and I don't have a copy yet." Chances were they didn't. That particular play had so many copyrights on it that it was next to impossible to get the rights to do the play and nearly as hard to get a recording of the music. Her best hope was buying it online.

Idiot. Why did you pick that play? It was too late now though. "It's alright if you don't. It wouldn't be the first time I didn't find it. I'm starting to think my best chance it buying it online." And now she was babbling to top it off. She titled her head down just slightly so her cap would hide her face a little more. If she made it out of here still visible she'd be lucky.

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan held his breath for a few moments as he waited for a response from her. Each silence or pause that passed between them felt like an eternity for him. He hate that his powers did that to him, skewered the way he perceived time.

Instantly relief washed over him when she finally responded. Maybe he hadn't sounded stupid or robotic after all. He tried to keep from smiling as that sense of joy filled him; the hardest part was over! He was talking to her! Now all he had to do was keep thinking of things to say. Crap. That was probably more difficult than it sounded.

He kept his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that his hands were sweating like crazy. He'd never known any girl to make him this nervous, but maybe the reason he was this nervous about Misha was that he really didn't want to screw up his chances with her. This actually mattered to him in a world where nothing but his music mattered.

His eyes widened just slightly in surprise as she responded saying she did need help. Either she was really just humoring him, or maybe he had a shot at saying or doing something worthwhile here.

Tristan blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, his jaw moving up and downward for a few seconds as no sound came out before his brain finally pieced together words. "Uhh...yeah, sure. I'll check." He glanced around, for the briefest moment hating the fact that Sam's was such a small chain of stores. They probably wouldn't have her CD here if she'd gone to bigger and better stores and hadn't found it.

Tristan walked over toward one of the computers, thinking as he walked, keeping her request locked safely in his mind. Les Miserables? Musicals huh... He didn't have anything against musicals. He'd never actually sat through one from beginning to end though. He wasn't the type judge things before he tried them though so he didn't judge her taste in music. Instead he smiled to himself, trying to hold onto that tiny piece of information, now he knew something about her besides the fact that she was cute!

For some reason he really already liked her. Just that small piece of knowledge about her began to tell him that his assumptions were correct. She just felt different from the other girls and she was. What other girl had he met who liked musicals?

Tristan shook his head, continuing to smile to himself as he typed in the cd she'd asked for onto the computer. Don't be so hasty to make assumptions. he tried to tell himself, but he felt like it was too late. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to be around her all the time, really get to know her. This wasn't enough for him.

He frowned when nothing relevant came up in the search. Tristan sucked his teeth, momentarily cursing the store he worked for as he turned and headed back toward Misha. Once he reached her, he began scratching the back of his head slightly in thought, wondering how this was going to work. He didn't want to see her frown or be upset because they didn't have it but what could he do...

"Ah... sorry. We don't have it. Figures," he said, chuckling slightly, trying to lighten the mood. And then it hit him. He could do everything at once, it was so simple. He could get to know her, keep her smile from fading... All he had to do was, "Hey...I'm uh sorry about that...But...have you eaten yet? My shift is technically over so I could buy you lunch or something to make up for this... Or we could just go hang out or something if you're not hungry." He smacked himself internally, trying to stop him from rambling. He sounded like a runaway train.

Tristan tried to keep cool on the outside, giving her a smile as he waited for her response. He really hoped this wouldn't be the end of their interaction with each other.

[Misha Rivers]

Tristan went to check for the CD and Misha stood there waiting, knowing the result would come up as a negative. She could have asked him for anything else and he'd have been able to come up with a copy for her. Maybe she could have even gotten him to ring up her purchase on the cash register. She was kind of shocked to see that as nervous as she felt around him, she liked the attention. She liked that someone noticed her, someone she would have expected to not even register her as a blip on the radar.

She turned back to the CDs as she waited for him, trying to look like she was still searching for her CD when she was hardly noticing the labels anymore. In fact, half the time she was glancing over at him so she hardly saw the CDs her hands were hovering over at all.

Eventually he came back, apologizing for not finding the CD she wanted. "I-It's okay," she said, "I wasn't figuring I'd have much luck. Thanks anyways." Then he caught her completely off guard. His shift was ending, so he was asking if he could take her to lunch to make up for not finding the CD.

She panicked, but for the first time ever she didn't turn invisible because of it. Her heart was racing and her mind was blank, but somehow it wasn't a negative emotion somehow. If it had been she'd have faded from sight completely. How is that possible? But, maybe the answer was as simple as what her thoughts earlier had pointed out, she liked the attention from him and the fact that he wanted to actually spend time with her was what made her heart race. Maybe, it was actually excitement.

Realizing he was still waiting for an answer she blurted out, "No." Her face turned red and her words came pouring out like a water from a fountain. "I mean, no I haven't eaten. And.... yes, you can buy me lunch. If you really want to that is. I-I'd really like that." By the end of her words her speech had slowed down a little and she realized that the more she spoke to him the easier it got. Then it kind of dawned on her. Wait. Did he just ask me on a date? And I accepted? As new as that idea was to her, she kind of liked it.

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan held his breath as he waited for her to answer. He was glad that she took it well, the fact that they didn't have the CD but was still slightly disappointed that he couldn't at least have that for her. He crossed his fingers, hands hidden inside his pockets as he waited anxiously for her answer to lunch. And was devastated when she said no.

He was sure that his heart had stopped beating, and he felt like an idiot for even asking, the corners of his mouth turning down into the beginnings of a frown. Of course she said no, she doesn't even know you. Or maybe she does, maybe she's heard bad rumors about me. God...what if it was from one of my exes? his mind raced as he tried to think of a possible reason he'd been rejected, moving ten miles a minute before he caught her blushing...and realized she meant yes she'd like lunch and no she hadn't eaten. He was amazed at how quickly he'd freaked out when she said no, how fast the thoughts seemed to race through his mind in that brief moment where he thought it was over before anything had even begun.

Tristan smiled instantly, sighing softly as the panicked beating of his heart began to slow down to a more normal speed for him. "Great!" he said. "I'd love to, yeah...ah I'd love to buy you lunch. He tried to tone down his enthusiasm but he really couldn't help himself. He was really glad that she'd said yes. He didn't know what he would have done had she really meant no. Plus the fact that she'd been blushing definitely meant that the yes was sincere, and she wasn't just accepting because she didn't want to hurt his feelings or something.

Wait, was she blushing? Tristan bit his lip and glanced down at the ground in an attempt not to begin grinning like an idiot. Well don't just stand there making assumptions, go find out why! Go get to know her he berated himself.

"Great," he repeated once more, lifting his eyes to hers. "I'll just be right back. Gotta clock out and grab my stuff."

With that, he turned and headed back to the back room of the store, disappearing as the door shut behind him. Excited, he glanced around quickly and made sure no one was back there with him on break or something. When he was sure the coast was clear, he began moving at light speed. He was unable to contain his excitement and it began affecting his powers, but just this once he really didn't mind.

He punched out of the system on the computer within a millisecond, almost forgetting to be careful not to break the keyboard with his break neck speed, then moved to his locker and changed out of the uniform and back into his street clothes. He stuffed his clothing into his bookbag and grabbed his helmet, kicking his locker shut with excessive force he hadn't meant to use that came with his speed, leaving a dent near the bottom of the door. He didn't appear to notice, he merely slowed down for half a second to check and make sure that his rushed speeds hadn't screwed up his hair before he ran back to the door, throwing it open before he remembered to slow down.

Tristan rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, something he'd taught himself when he was trying to remember to slow down, and finally kicked back into normal speeds. He walked back toward Misha, not having been gone for longer than 13 seconds, a smile on his face. His left hand held a full faced black and red motorcycle helmet, with a visor, his right hand held his keys. Once again, he was back to normal, and the stupid uniform was forgotten as he stood before her in jeans, his motorcycle boots and a deep red button down dress shirt, untucked, mostly covered by his black leather jacket.

"Ready?" he asked, before he momentarily berated himself for asking the question. He held the keys, he was the one who'd had to go change... Then suddenly he remembered, "Oh! Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?" Sometimes he'd forgotten to ask in the past and it had gotten him in trouble. This time he was almost sure the answer would be no, but it didn't hurt to ask. He waited patiently for her response.

After receiving her answer, he'd slide his bookbag off his shoulder anyway and unzip it, clutching the bookbag tightly in his left hand as he tried to hold the helmet too. He withdrew the pants he'd been wearing just moments ago and zipped the bookbag shut. Glancing at her bare legs, he said, "It might be a good idea to wear this." He held out the khaki pants to her. "You don't have to take off your skirt or anything," he said quickly, "I just don't know how cold it is outside. Plus, if I go over 20, no matter what the weather is like outside, your legs might freeze. You can take them back off when we get to where we're going."

With that, he remembered another thing. Where were they going? He waited for a few moments as she responded, whether or not she accepted or refused the pants, then added, "Do you want to go anywhere in particular? Maybe...for your favorite food?" He realized he really didn't know much about her. She could be vegetarian for all he knew, maybe it would be safer to let her pick the place or tell him what she liked.

[Misha Rivers]

Tristan seemed really happy when she accepted his invitation. He left to get his things and was back quicker than she would have expected, changed and all. She had to remember, Tristan was a speedster. Just like she could become invisible, he could move at speeds that no human should have been able to reach. It was just a part of life at Sententia, getting used to the fact that people could do things no human normally had the ability to do. For the schools students the idea was an easy one to grasp, and it just took a bit to adjust to the different kinds of breeds that existed aside from your own. For anyone without powers.... well, that was the whole reason the school was a secret.

She nodded when he asked if she was ready, smiling as she glanced over his outfit. The red dress shirt, boots, and leather jacket were much more his style than what he'd been wearing. It was only after his question that she noticed the motorcycle helmet under his arm. She'd never ridden one before, though her brother had owned one and she'd wanted to ride it. He'd never let her on and now the cycle was back at home collecting dust if her father hadn't sold it.

"Never ridden one before. My older brother owned one, but he never let me ride it with him." She left out anything more. If Tristan asked, then maybe she'd explain why that sentence had been in the past tense. Otherwise it was easy enough to figure that her chances to ride it had ended when she'd come to Sententia last year, not because her brother wasn't around to ride it with her anymore.

She took the khaki pants he offered her without really questioning him. He knew more about this than she did. Really speed was his area of expertise when you considered that he could probably go as fast as his bike when running.

She thought about it for a moment and then slid the pants on over her skirt, realizing that they'd probably be a bit big on her for one and for another she didn't want to flash her underwear in the middle of the store by attempting to pull them on under her skirt. That, and thinking about it made it feel kind of weird. The only person she'd ever borrowed clothes from had been her step-sister Rose, and that hadn't happened much. Now she was wearing the pants of a guy a year older than her who she didn't really know all that well, though she supposed it was the sentiment of not wanting her to freeze that mattered.

She started towards the door with him as she thought about the question he'd asked. They really hadn't agreed on a place to go, and it seemed like he was letting her pick. She wasn't exactly picky, but...

"I'm kind of a fan of spicy food," she said. "So Asian or Mexican would be good if that's okay with you." There were a few places in town that gave them for options.

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan bit his tongue lightly for a moment as Misha mentioned that she'd never ridden a motorcycle before. He wondered for a moment if she was one of the girls who would get freaked out once they started moving before he realized she'd mentioned that her brother had had a motorcycle. "Oh yeah?" he asked, his eyebrows raising slightly. "What happened, did he sell it?" A lot of guys did that, especially once they'd gotten one too many speeding tickets. Tristan hated that word, getting caught. His theory was if you were moving fast enough you'll never get caught.

He was glad she'd taken the pants without hesitation, no matter how weird it seemed. Not many girls took his advice on that, and often ended up mad at him later because they hadn't taken his advice before their legs ended up frozen.

As he pushed open the door for her he smiled. "Mexican sounds cool." He always seemed to like anything remotely related to junk food, though it didn't show on him since his body's metabolism was so fast he never had time to turn junk foods into fat.

He paused for a moment once she was out the door. It wasn't as though he were talking up a storm, but this was unusually talkative for him he felt, when it came to meeting a girl for the first time, or even taking her anywhere for the first time. Usually he was gauging a girl at this point to see what type of girl she was; the good girl or the girl whose pants he could get into easily. And he hadn't met very many good girls.

He followed Misha outside, twirling his keys in one hand. His bike never stood far from the store, yet it was never in the same place. He was glad today that he had some sort of brilliant idea and had left it in plain sight on the sidewalk, visible from the store's window.

He strode up to the motorcycle and swung one leg over it with no problem. He stuck the key in the ignition but didn't turn it, still holding his motorcycle helmet in one hand and his book bag on his shoulder. "I don't want to be a pain in the ass or anything..." he began, unsure really how to put what he wanted to say. He glanced down at the sidewalk for a moment, wondering if he really had to request this of her... He wouldn't want to ask any girl to carry his stuff, that just wasn't a gentleman like quality. Especially if he was trying to get her attention.

He swung his leg back off the motorcycle and stood beside it. "Never mind, I don't want to make you do that. Sorry, I'll be right back." He blurred out of existence as he ran back to the school, running back into his dorm in less than a couple of seconds. He grit his teeth as he missed his mark, sometimes hating that he wasn't fully in control of his powers, ending up a few doors down from his room and walked back toward his room, unlocking the door and tossing his book bag inside before he locked it again then sped back to where Misha stood. Problem solved. She didn't have to carry his stuff, and he didn't have to feel like a jerk for asking her to do so. It wasn't his fault though, it wouldn't have been comfortable with the bookbag between them, especially not if she got nervous riding the motorcycle.

He hadn't been gone for more than a few seconds, and there he was again, bookbag-less as he gave her a smile, smoothing his hair back from his face. He could do the same, take her to the Mexican place without wasting time, but sometimes it wasn't a waste of time doing things the slow way. Sometimes it was worth his while...plus he didn't like using his powers in public too often. He could only for it for so long before someone noticed.

"Alright..." he said, swinging his leg over the motorcycle again. He made a few adjustments so that it would carry both their weight as though it was carrying one person rather than two, driving no differently than usual. As he sat on the motorcycle, finished with his task, he turned to her.

"No different than riding a bike...except I'll be driving, and you'll just enjoy the ride," he said with a smile. "I hope." he added quickly. "Uhh.. you can hold the bike here," he said motioning toward the handles beside the passenger seat. "But if that's too uncomfortable, or you get nervous, you can just hold onto me instead." he said, smiling not because of the suggestion but because he'd managed to get that last sentence out without rushing it or speaking so quickly she wouldn't understand. He really didn't want her to get the wrong idea about him... But then what was the right idea?

He stood up from the motorcycle. "One more thing..." He stood before her and removed her hat, apologizing with an embarrassed smile before he slid the motorcycle helmet on her head carefully, making sure it was in place once he was done. He flipped the visor up on the helmet and said, "Cool? If anything happens I'd rather it be me than you." He had no idea why he'd just said that and took a slight step back, folding her hat carefully in a way that it didn't bend it, then slid it into an interior pocket in his jacket. He zipped up the jacket halfway then swung his leg back over the motorcycle, motioning for her to do the same over the passenger's seat.

[Misha Rivers]

It turned out Tristan did end up asking about her brother. She had a brief moment there where she remembered the night that had ended Tyrell. It never hurt to tell, since it wasn't as if that would make her shy away from the motorcycle.

"He's dead," she said softly. "He got killed in a gang related fight. Part of that is his own fault for mixing with that kind of crowd really."

She turned away from those memories. It was a lot easier to do once they were outside. Once they were there she was staring at Tristan's bike and realizing for the first time how much risk there was in riding one of those. She saw him climb on and start asking her something. Then for a few seconds he was just gone. She barely had time in those seconds to worry about why he'd vanished. When he came back not wearing his backpack and she realized what he'd been about to ask her and why he hadn't.

Wow. A gentleman and a risk taker. And here I thought Tyrell was the typical risk-taking guy. Her brother had been an asshole at times. There was no way he would have had second thoughts about what Tristan had been asking of her. She liked that, liked that with Tristan there was the risk and yet he wasn't a complete jerk.

She went over closer to the bike now, watching as he pointed things out. When he said, "One more thing," she glanced up and realized how close she was to him. She barely noticed when he took her hat off, though when the helmet went on was a different story. She had to smile when he commented about if anything happened he'd rather it not be her, though she didn't really think he could see the smile.

"Ok," she said, then watched as he climbed on the bike. She climbed on behind him, trying not to think too much about it because that would only make her nervous. When it came down to everything else, there was an added benefit in that the helmet hid her face even more than her hair did when she was trying to avoid using her power. Hopefully that would be enough to keep her from turning both of them and the bike invisible if she really got scared.

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan paused for a moment after what Misha had said about her brother. He glanced down at the ground, then lifted his eyes to hers, at first unsure of what to say. After a few moments he said, "I'm...really sorry for asking." He kept his eyes on her, perplexed for a moment as he realized it really didn't bother her, at least not as much as the memories of his stepdad bothered him. He gave her a small smile and added, "We all have our own skeletons..." not just to make her feel better, but almost as though he were trying to make himself feel better. Trying to allow himself to forget, something he still hadn't learned to do after all these years.

Once Misha was seated on the bike behind him, he showed her where to put her feet. He glanced backwards at her for a moment with a smile before he turned the key in the ignition and revved up his bike. Making sure she had her feet on the footrests, he pulled the bike upright and flipped the kickstand up. He walked the bike off the sidewalk and from there they were gone.

He started off slow, which was almost hard for him since he was so used to driving, and he was so used to speed, but he was mindful of her and his past situations. Slow was really better for people who hadn't been on a motorcycle before.

Once his speeds increased, it did get a little bit colder, just as he'd promised, but he took most of the wind since his body was shielding hers. He could think of a few Mexican places off the top of his head, but he drove around for a while, lost halfway between his thoughts and trying to show Misha how fun motorcycles could be. He'd never really had a date in broad daylight before; he almost didn't know what to do, what to say. Was this the kind of thing girls liked? He was too used to partying, the nightlife, he'd never really had many sober conversations with his exes before. When he really thought about it the idea made him nervous. Don't screw this up, he told himself.

He turned a corner carefully, eyes on traffic and before he knew it, there was one of the restaurants. He pulled into the parking lot and drove up near the front, parking his motorcycle in a spot nearest the Mexican place. As he killed the engine, and set the kickstand down, he glanced back over his shoulders with a grin. "Not too bad, I hope?"

He waited a few moments to let her catch her breath if she had too, then waited for her to dismount from the bike. No one would ever have guessed he could be that patient, not even Tristan himself.