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Charlotte Matsumura

Hoi Polloi

Hoi Polloi

CDR Rue Wydown

CDR Malcolm Alexander (NPC)

LTJG Charlotte Matsumura

Mr. Clay Wydown (NPC)

 

Note: Due to the TBS, the events in this log take place approximately two weeks prior to this evening's sim. They follow immediately after "Best Laid Plans," taking place later that evening.

****

The restaurant Clayton chose to meet his friends was one of the best sushi restaurants in the London area. While not nearly as good as actual Japanese sushi in his opinion, it was convenient enough. Besides, Wydown knew his wife - ex-wife - would have had an excruciatingly long day catering to diplomatic figure heads and he wanted her to feel relaxed, comfortable and happy.

 

The host showed Clay to a booth with a decent view of the front door, provided they didn't fill the tables in front of him. He slid into the booth, slipping all the way over to the wall side as if he was expecting someone to join him and plucked the menu out to peruse the offerings. After a moment or so, he waved down a passing waitress. "Hello, love. How about a beer when you get a chance?" He flashed his best lost-puppy "pleading" grin, hoping to charm her into feeling sorry for him. She blushed, giggled a little, and took his order.

 

Almost as if on cue, Malcolm Alexander stepped into the small, family-owned establishment, shaking a bit of rain off his jacket, and running a hand through his hair. He looked the same as he always had, really, with only a few more lines and wrinkles around the eyes and dimples. As Clay rose to greet him, however, a woman stepped around him, echoing Mal's actions. She was younger and a good deal shorter, with flowing black hair and almond-shaped eyes. Clay's interest was immediately piqued. Must be the date from last night, he thought.

 

Reaching down, Mal took the girl's hand in his, approaching the table. "And here, they were telling me they kept out the riff-raff," he said. The corners of his eyes creased as he smiled, extending his hand.

 

"Who are you calling riff-raff? I'm more hoi polloi." Clay grinned, gave his best mate a hearty handshake-back slap sort of greeting before turning to his female companion. At closer inspection, she was even lovelier, with a sort of exotic mixed heritage in her features that made her interesting to look at. He also noted that there was also an intelligence and no small amount of sauciness reflected in her eyes. It that didn't stop Clay from attempting to charm her, however, to see if she was good enough for one of his best friends. Slipping into one of his boyish smiles, he greeted her. "And who is this beautiful, charming young woman who shines so brightly in this low establishment?"

 

"Ah, yes," Mal began, clearing his throat. "Clayton Wydown, I'd like you to meet Charlotte Matsumura. Lottie, this is Clayton -- or, Clay, as we all know him."

 

Clay offered his hand, but instead of shaking hers, he brought it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to it. A very cheesy move, and he knew it. Clayton also knew that it might rankle Mal just a bit, which was more his motivation than impressing the girl. "It is pleasure to meet you, Charlotte Matsumura. I hope you're not too off-put by your companion's lack of social graces." He flashed one of his more charming smiles.

 

Charlotte chuckled, shaking her head; beside her, Mal rolled his eyes. "Relax, Clay. She's heard all about you."

 

"Now what the bloody hell did you do that for?" Clay snapped his attention to Malcolm, dropping the act while he feigning aggravation at being called out.

 

"Because he wanted me to know what I was getting myself into when I accepted his invitation," she answered. Her accent was British, with the slightest hint of something more. She was still grinning as she slid into the booth, followed by Mal.

 

"Taking all the fun out of this," Clay slide into his side, reclining sideways a bit against the wall so he could have an unobstructed view of both Mal and his girl as well as the door. "Spoil sport."

 

"That doesn't mean you have to stop being charming," Lottie replied. There was an impish gleam to her eyes as she reached over and plucked up a menu for herself.

 

"Your wish is my command, my dear lady." He grinned, saluting them with his beer.

 

Having deposited Clay's beer, the waitress looked to Charlotte and Mal expectantly. "Something to drink?"

 

"Junmai Ginjō-shu," Charlotte answered, ordering a mid-grade chilled sake.

 

The waitress -- her name tag said "Anne" -- then looked to Mal. "I'll have water. No -- wait. Beer -- pale ale, if you have it."

 

Clay muttered, "No beer? Was beginning to wonder. Thought you were turning into a monk on me."

 

Mal shifted uncomfortably in his seat, even as Charlotte passed him a menu. "Decidedly not," he muttered. Aloud, he looked to Clay and asked, "Gyoza? Or edamame? The tempura was a bit...ugh...last time."

 

"Why do we keep coming here? Why aren't we going to Japan for the real stuff?" Clayton accused as if this particular restaurant wasn't his idea.

 

"Well, for one, we're home. We all know British food is far from...adventurous, and you're a damn sight safer going for the imports," Mal opined. The waitress grinned as she approached, hearing his explanation. She placed the sake in front of Charlotte, and the bottled pale ale before Mal. "And second, the beer here is better."

 

"Here, here." Clay grinned and winked at the waitress. "And far more pleasant scenery to partake of." Then he cast a glance to Charlotte.

 

Mal rolled his eyes. "Down boy," he said with a chuckle. "Speaking of scenery... where's Rue?"

 

"I don't know." Clay glanced at the door, his smile fading into a concerned frown as he searched the entrance. When he turned back to the couple he put a brave face on the fact that his half of the booth is unoccupied. "I vote for edamame."

 

Mal looked to Charlotte. "Lottie?"

 

"I'll pass," she replied, "and wait for my sashimi."

 

Appetizer ordered, Mal folded his hands in front of him and regarded Clay. "You sure you haven't killed your roommate yet?"

 

It was Clayton's turn to squirm in his seat, "No, my roommate is alive and well. Neither have has she attempted to kill me either...yet." Clay shook his head, remembering the odd proposal that Rue had made that morning. Something about zip-lining in the dark had him uneasy, yet intrigued.

 

Alexander smirked, then sipped his ale. "How does the girlfriend feel about the roomie?"

 

"She's fine with it." Wydown answered with a flick of the wrist and a wave of his beer bottle. He was, in fact, not very good liar in some areas. And in particular not with friends. While in the boardroom and withing his social circle, he attempted to be just as charming and persuasive as he could. But there was always a protective wall to up to keep the backstabbers, thieves and liars (aka, his brothers) or the gold-digging throne-hopping harpies (aka, often his girlfriend flavor of the month) at arms length and his heart out of harms way. It was with his closest friends that he let his hair down, figuratively speaking. With his friends, he had permission to be just his warm, friendly, cocky, boyish self, and to be...well...stupid sometimes.

 

So when he was asked whether his current girlfriend was okay with the arrangement, in truth, the girlfriend, Evelyn Harrington, had no knowledge that his roommate was in fact female and was his wife...err...ex-wife. "In fact, she's very supportive of the situation. After all, I can't exactly throw my roommate out on the street, can I?" He glanced at Charlotte who seemed to be watching the two men with rapt attention. "So love, what is it you do?"

 

Charlotte chuckled at the change in topic, reflecting that for two grown men, they certainly sounded like an old married couple. "Security aboard the Excalibur," she replied. "Not terribly exciting, I'm afraid, but it does pay the bills."

 

Clay shifted his gaze to Malcolm, slightly started look. "Oh, you didn't tell me that this morning."

 

"Didn't tell you what?" Rue Wydown flopped into the seat next to Clayton after physically moving his outstretched leg out of her way. Once settled, she grabbed his beer and managed to drain half of it before turning her attention to her husband - ex-husband - and leveled an expectant look at him.

 

"She's on Excalibur, too." Clay gave a little finger wave in Charlotte's attention. "And that's my beer."

 

"Consider it my alimony payment. Buy another." Rue held the bottle out of his reach and turned her attention to the couple sitting across from Clayton. She'd recognized Mal when she entered. She didn't have a chance to see the young woman sitting next to him who'd been blocked from view as she entered. Now that she got a good look, she arched her eyebrows in surprise. "Matsumura. Hi." She blinked, trying to hide the surprise of finding one of her junior officers sitting across the table. When she turned to Mal, she arched a brow at him. "Date number two, or a continuation?"

 

Mal glared. "Do you really expect a gentleman to answer?"

 

Clay turned to the other Wydown. "He has you there, love."

 

"Since when are you two gentlemen?" Rue grinned, then, as was her custom, veered wildly onto the next subject. "Have you all ordered yet? I'm starving." She flagged down the waitress, motioning with Clayton's bottle and indicated that she needed two more beers. Then she glanced back to Mal and Charlotte, her eyes drifting from one to the other, wondering when the hell the flirting on the ship progressed into a night on the town. She'd heard rumors on Camelot that the two of them had been semi-dating, but this was a whole new can of awkward. "Sooooooooo....."

 

Charlotte shifted somewhat uncomfortably under the attention of the executive officer. She exchanged a glance with Mal, who chuckled slightly. "Soooooo...what? I suspect there's a question in there somewhere," he replied. He arched his own brows as he lifted his ale to take a long draw.

 

"So how'd you two meet?" Clay grinned slyly, looking for dirt.

 

Rather than have Mal and Charlotte explain that they'd been flirting all over her damn ship or explain that Mal had been engaged in that a covert op recently and break the cone of silence, Rue choose to answer before she thought Mal or Lottie dug the hole deeper. She smacked Clay's arm, leveling a look at him, "Matsumura. Get it?"

 

It took a good few moments before recognition dawned on Clayton's face. "Oh. Oh. Oooooooh!" He grinned back at the other two. "That Matsumura." He glanced at Charlotte. "Does your father know you're here?"

 

"He and Mum know I'm in London --"

 

"And I offered my flat."

 

"Hello, Kettle." Clay snarked. Rue, not being a part of the previous conversation, watched them like a ping pong match, waiting for the next volley.

 

"You're one to talk, Pot," Mal replied.

 

Rue shook her head and looked over to Charlotte. "I have to point out, in case you haven't all ready noticed: We are the only two adults at this table, yes?"

 

"I'm beginning to notice," Charlotte replied. She smirked. "Have they been like this long?"

 

"I think since nursery school." Rue finished the rest of Clay's beer and then smiled up to the waitress as she approached with fresh ones and their appetizers. "Thanks, luv. You're a life saver." She took both bottles from the woman, putting both in front of her only to have Clay take one away. "We ready to order?"

 

Looking up at the waitress, each placed their respective order, selecting from the available nigri, sashimi, maki, and donburi. Mal tacked on another ale, and Charlotte another small sake. As the waitress made her way back over to the sushi bar, Charlotte looked to Rue. "I take it you completed your deposition today?"

 

"Signed, sealed, and delivered." She raised her glass. "As is my career. It was nice knowing you." She took another long draw from the beer and then set it down on the table. "By the way, fair warning -- those JAG officers have no sense of humor." She picked up one of the edamame and proceeded to suck the soybeans out of the pod. This little action had attracted Clay's rapt attention, watching her.

 

"I rather got that impression," Charlotte replied. She frowned. She hadn't meant to cast a pall on the evening activities, but she had suspected the reason for Rue's mood. "I was able to give my deposition last week, and I was not impressed. I suppose I should be thankful that I was early on the docket."

 

"Eh." Rue shrugged a little. "It is what it is. We're all alive. Most of our bits and bobs are still in place. What could be worse than....What are you staring at?" Rue swiveled her head in Clayton's direction as she noticed he seemed to be in his own private world.

 

"Nothing." Clayton shot her an innocent look, laying his arm over the back of the booth. He wasn't about to admit he'd been watching Rue's mouth. "Nothing at all."

 

Rue turned to Mal. "Squirrel?"

 

Mal nodded, sipping his ale. "Squirrel."

 

Charlotte looked to Mal. "Do I even want to know?"

 

"Not really, love, no." Alexander furrowed his brow, turning his attention back to his old school mate. "Wait. What about Evelyn?"

 

"What about her?" Clay raised a brow.

 

"Oh, she's still around," Rue smirked, giving Clay that 'look'. "But that doesn't stop him from scoping out the next one. Seriously? Her?" She motioned to the woman, a cute blonde thing, she thought Clayton was staring at.

 

"She's cute." Clay shrugged, coloring a bit, afraid he'd be caught out again.

 

Mal followed his gaze, noting the younger woman seated across the restaurant. She was a tall, willowy thing, with dirty blonde hair, excellent curves, and well-manicured fingers. "Not bad," he commented. His attention drifted to the table beside her, where a stack of PADDs rested, a backpack beside her on the upholstered bench. "Though I think you'd find her overeducated for his usual tastes."

 

"Yes. She seems to have an IQ bigger than her bra size." Rue quipped.

 

"Now come on, they're not all bad." Clay growled.

 

"Name. One." Rue challenged.

 

"Lilith." Clay offered after a few moments consideration.

 

"Exhibit A: Lilith. Mal, would you like to take this one? Charlotte, I'll let you be judge, jury and executioner."

 

"The fair Lady Lilith," Mal drawled, "eldest daughter to Sir Eric, and quite possibly the most...icy...woman I've ever met. In fact, she might as well be Exhibit 'C' for 'cold fish.'" He took a sip of his ale. "There were no public displays, always a peck on the cheek; and a nose stuck so far in the air it could have sunk the Titanic. Always treated your best mates as though as though they were something the hired help dragged in. Next?"

 

Clay frowned. "Now what a min--"

 

"The prosecution said next exhibit." Rue gave him a look.

 

After a bit of a struggle, he pulled out another name. "Zadia," Clay's face transformed into a wistful expression. "She was very...well, I shouldn't go much further in mixed company."

 

Mal chuckled. "Passionate, I think is the word. Though that extended outside the bedroom, as I recall." He paused. "Wasn't she the one that chased you through Covent Garden with a rolling pin?"

 

"Yes," Clay deflated, giving Rue and Mal a shifty look. "What is this? Pick on Clayton night?"

 

Mal shook his head, clearly disagreeing with his friend. "When isn't it 'Pick on Clayton Night'? Has been ever since boarding school. Didn't you get the memo?"

 

"Shall I bring up one last example of Clayton's poor choice in women?" Rue leaned back, giving Clayton an evil look. She made the slightest flick of the wrist to hint at what was to come.

 

"No. No. No, please god no. Let's talk about anybody but her. Please. I'm begging you." Clay cupped Rue's face with his hands, giving her a big, sloppy, wet kiss on the lips. "Please, for the love of all that is holy, don't say her name." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Please." He would have followed up with another kiss if Rue hadn't reared back.

 

Rue flipped her hair back, head bobbing from left to right as she said, "Kourtney!" When she pronounced it, however, it was with equal emphasis on both syllables, so it ended up sounding more like, "Court-knee!"

 

"You need to work on your powers of persuasion, mate." Mal regarded the two with his brows raised.

 

Rue did another hair flip. "So Kourtney was a love interest that, like, was so awesome, that, like, she was unforgettable, that, like, she was so cool." She grinned manically.

 

"Oh, God, no." Clay buried his head in his hands, then sank to the table top, his forehead pressed against the cool surface. "Make it stop; make. it. all. stop."

 

Alexander looked to Rue, impish gleam in his eyes. "I think he's done for."

 

"Remember that dress?" Rue was on the verge of a giggle fit. She'd fully relaxed, forgetting that Charlotte was one of her junior officers and not new to the group.

 

"What dress?" Mal regarded his former classmate with raised brows.

 

"Let's just say I would've been embarrassed to wear it in public." Rue pause a beat. "Hell, an escort would've been embarrassed to wear it out in public. Good God, that woman gave me fits of laughter for weeks after I met her."

 

She flipped her hair again, giggling, breathy whisper, "Hi, my name is Koooourt-kneeee...and I wanna marry a smart man to take care of me forever and always. Will you be my pet husband?" Wydown made cow eyes at Clay, teasing him. "I can't find my way out of a paperbag, but I do know my way around Mercers & Rodgers store." Another hair flip, then, "Buy me something from Tiffany's, Clay-ee-waaay-ee..."

 

Mal looked at his friend with something akin to sympathy. "For a really smart guy, you make some of the stupidest choices." He shook his head. "Especially when there are better, more obvious answers."

 

"He obviously needs to be neutered," Rue quipped.

 

"Or stop ignoring the obvious," Mal muttered behind his bottle. Beside him, Charlotte choked on her sake. He immediately reached over, patting her on the back as she coughed her way clear. Once he stopped patting, his arm stayed around her shoulders. "Sorry, love."

 

"Warn me next time," she whispered.

 

Alexander winked at her. "I tried to tell you."

 

Clay picked his head up off the table. "Are you done yet?" He asked tiredly.

 

Rue smiled, giving his arm a sympathetic squeeze. "Aye, mate. I'm done." She laid her head on his shoulder and glanced up into his face like a little limp. "You know I only say these things 'cause I love you." She fluttered her lashes at him.

 

"I'd be more afraid of what you'd say if you didn't love me." Clay shook his head. He slipped his hand down and took hers, holding it and rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand. It was an unconscious move that those who knew them had seen countless times. Something in Clay's body language changed when he did it.

 

And that was when the food arrived. Blushing slightly as she obviously interrupted a quiet moment between the couples, the waitress placed the wooden blocks of rolls and sashimi in the center of the table, then offered each a set of ebony chopsticks. She smiled. "Enjoy."

 

After a few moments of chewing, attempting to muster his courage, Clay cleared his throat. Unfortunately, it made it sound like he was choking so Rue reached over and patted him soundly on the back. He wrestled her hands away, capturing them in his and not letting them go. "So, seeing as we're all here...."

 

Mal broke his attention away from Charlotte, forcing a nonchalant expression at his friend. "Announcement to make, old friend?"

 

"As a matter of fact, I do." He looked at Mal, whose expression puzzled him. He then followed Mal's line of sight and realized his friend was looking at his hands, entwined with Rue's. "Wait. No! Not that." He let go of Rue's hands and sat a bit straighter. "We're having a big shindig in a few days. An opening of a new division at Sterling. Going all out for it, too. Big bash. Wanted to know if you all would like to go."

 

Rue knew he was asking not to share the party with his friends, but because he was hoping for moral support while he was stuck in a den of vipers (commonly known as his family members). She'd all ready been asked once. She didn't think Clay was going to have the courage to ask a third time. She smiled, "Sure, why not. I could do for a laugh."

 

For his part, Mal grimaced. He knew all too well the circles in which Clay regularly travelled -- circles he tried to avoid. At the same time, he knew the importance of a friendly face among the snakes. He sighed. "Where and what time?"

 

Clay shook his head. "Don't sound so enthusiastic, Mal."

 

"Sorry, Clay, but you know how much I try to avoid that lot."

 

"No problem. You don't have to go. I just thought it would be fun." Clay smiled, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll just solider on without you sorry lot." He teased.

 

Meanwhile Rue was watching the action between the two friends. She shifted her glance first from Clay to Mal, then back to Clay. Finally at the end of Clay's speech when it appeared that Mal wasn't going to answer, Rue gave the stubborn Intel operative a swift kick to the shin. If he could survive Corizon for weeks on end, he could live one night amongst Clay's family. Hell, he owed her one, anyway.

 

Mal swallowed back the verbal reaction to the kick, glaring at Rue. He shook his head subtly, to which she responded by nodding surreptitiously. Giving in, he rolled his eyes. "I'll ask again: Where and what time?"

 

"Friday night. Drinks start at 7 pm. Dancing at 8 pm. It's black tie." Rue answered for Clayton.

 

Having spent most of the evening observing, Charlotte recognized the body language, tone, and facial expressions passing between the friends. Under the table, she placed her hand against Mal's thigh. "We'll be there." She smiled. "So dashing and debonair in a tux."

 

Relief was evident on Clay's features. "So," he said, reaching for another roll, "where should we go next?"

 

"Moonlight zip?" Rue offered.

 

Charlotte regarded her senior officer with a furrowed brow. "Moonlight zip?"

 

"Aye. You hike up a dark hill. You snap into a zip line. Then you run down the hill. Full tilt. Until your feet leave the ground. Leaping off a cliff and then go flying through the air. Did I mention this is all in the dark?"

 

"And here, I was thinking we should just work a pub crawl," Clay muttered.

 

Mal, his hand over Charlotte's, looked to his friend. "And you promised it would only be a quiet dinner."

 

"Is it ever quiet with us?" Clay smirked. "Besides, I told Jamie we'd meet him at the pub around the corner at 10."

 

Mal hung his head. "Oh, bollocks."

***

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