Log: Jamie and Malcolm
Characters: Malcolm Brown and Jamie Dodderidge
Setting: The Leaky Cauldron, Sunday afternoon.
Summary: They're spies.
Rating/Status: PG / Finished log.

Malcolm fiddled with the fork on the left side of his plate, concentrating on making his stomach calm down. He was here on a mission, sort of – it was just another meal, since he’d been coming here to the Leaky pub for lunch and dinner for the last two weeks. Harper had been on his case all week about being a coward and unable to ask even though he was pretty much nutters over this pub waiter. The conversation with his little brother last night had been the reason he’d made the decision to finally make a move.

He looked up as Jamie approached – he had to time this right, so Jamie was sort of 'stuck', Malcolm was relying on his sense of duty to his job to help him out here. It was just after his meal, but generally Malcolm had dessert and then a drink, so it wasn’t like he could run away, right? He smiled at Jamie and nudged his empty plates to the edge of the table, placing his fork and knife on top, to sort of help out.

"Hey!" he greeted, trying to set out the sequence of events in his mind. He would chat with Jamie just a little and then he would ask, after ordering dessert, that would work out best, right? It seemed to play out better in his mind as he had walked over here this afternoon than he could see it going right now, because Jamie was right there and Malcolm didn’t know what he would say. He knew what he wanted to say, for sure, but often things didn’t go the way you actually wanted them too. "That was really good."

"Hi again. Glad you liked it," Jamie said, giving a friendly smile as he started to clear the table. Not that there was a whole lot to clear, of course. Not with just one person eating, and Jamie had half a mind to ask about why Malcolm seemed to eat alone a lot, but he told himself it wasn't any of his business. The man's personal business was just that; his personal business. Besides, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know, save for a general curiosity about it, so he wouldn't pry. Plus, he'd probably get some answer he didn't want, and he'd much rather speculate that maybe he was just an oddball who liked eating by himself than finding out there was more meaning behind it and the compliment he gave him earlier.

"Dessert then, yeah," he asked, though it was more a statement than a question at this point really.

"Yeah, if you would be so kind," Malcolm gave him a winning smile and leaned forward a little toward Jamie, mentally giving himself a pat on the back for not backing down, because this is was the moment and he couldn’t put it off any longer without getting razzed by Harper. Plus, he didn’t want to.

He reached out and touched Jamie’s elbow before he could leave and gave him a hopeful smile, dropping his voice a little so Jamie could hear him but the table next to them couldn’t. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me? I mean, I want to cook and serve you dinner. At my place, this week, when you don’t have work or something."

Jamie's first instinct was to pull back fast, but, strangely, sense was still working in his favour, keeping him from doing just that and causing a scene. Instead, he just sort of stared at Malcolm for a long moment, not really knowing what to say.

No, was the logical response in his mind, and it shouted that at him to speak it, along with a slew of less than polite words. But Jamie was too stunned to do much more than stare and move his jaw up and down a little in a vain attempt to form a sentence. It didn't do much good, and he finally managed to look away, trying to regain his senses.

"Uhm," he said, his eyes darting around the pub. Did that man over there overhear the invitation? Was that why he was staring? What about those two ladies there, glaring. Were they glaring at him? Did they think he--No. He was being paranoid. That was ridiculous. Malcolm hadn't shouted his request. In fact, it had been said quietly, though Jamie could have sworn it really was shouted.

"I'll be right back with your dessert," Jamie stuttered before spinning quickly and walking briskly to the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes and put in for the dessert. However, he only managed to get inside the kitchen before stopping, his entire body shaking, but he didn't know why on either account. He stared into a middle space for a few seconds before someone knocked into him, bringing him back to the present as he dropped the plates.

"Shit," he cursed, pulling out his wand as the other person cursed at him to stop daydreaming. He waved his wand over the mess, cleaning it quickly. Tucking his wand back into his pocket, he turned and marched back out into the dining room and right over to Malcolm's table.

"Did you just ask me out on a date," he asked sharply but quietly, hands on the table, leaning in close so as not to be overheard.

Malcolm stared after Jamie, a little stunned at what had just happened. Well, if he was truly honest with himself, he would say he shouldn’t be and that he probably should’ve expected a worse answer. Walking away was a response wasn’t it? He sat back in his chair and fiddled with the serviette that was resting on his knee. It definitely could’ve been worse but he’d really been hoping for the best. Maybe if he hadn’t done it while Jamie was at work, waited until afterwards or something. Or waited a few more weeks before bringing it up, to get to know him.

He had nearly made the decision to just leave money on the table and be gone before Jamie came back with dessert but was sort of glad he didn’t when Jamie came back. Stormed back, would be a more apt description. Looking up, Malcolm didn’t flinch, even though he was expecting a punch to the nose. He stared into Jamie’s angry face and put on what he hoped was his most genuine and sincere expression.

"Yes," he said in an even tone, even though his heart was beating wildly with Jamie so close and his hope for a positive answer rekindled. "Yes, I did."

Jamie nodded slowly, straightening up. "Ok. That's what I thought." He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing. He nodded again before shaking his head. "I need a minute," he muttered. "I'll be--I'll be right back with your dessert." He shook his head again as he walked to go place Malcolm's dessert order, still at a complete and total loss at what to make of being asked out by a bloke.

Malcolm nodded slightly and when Jamie’s back was turned, he tilted his head slightly and frowned, very much confused. It was generally a yes or a no thing and while he’d had ideas about Jamie saying yes (and maybe jumping into his lap but that was more of a fantasy), ‘I need a minute’ was not on the possible scenarios of what could happen. He wasn’t going to pressure him of course, Malcolm was quickly losing his courage anyway. He sat forward with his elbows on the table and his chin on his fists, frowning slightly. This probably wasn’t good, he wasn’t used to asking someone out, but thinking about it didn’t seem to bode well.

Jamie paced around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do. He only had so much time before it looked like he was avoiding Malcolm, and while he really wanted to, he knew he couldn't. That would be rude--which he was not, thank you very much--and mean, and while he wanted to shout at him, he wasn't going to do that. Spotting the dessert ready to be served, he took a breath, let it out slowly, grabbed the plate, and walked back out after composing himself.

"Your dessert," he said, setting it down. He hesitated a moment before leaning forward. He licked his lips and then said, "Ok. Just don't tell anyone--not even your dying grandmum or whatever--and--and please don't try to kiss me or anything, ok?" He reasoned dinner was fine so long as Malcolm didn't do anything except have dinner and keep his hands and other body parts to himself. Besides, two blokes could have dinner on a friend level and not be gay, right? He hoped so.

Malcolm kept his eyes on the table, not glancing up when the dessert was placed in front of him. He did, though, when Jamie agreed. Malcolm grinned slowly and nodded. That was definitely something he could agree to – if he told Clara, she would probably tell Psyke and then Harper would find out and of course Harper would tell everyone that he had a new girlfriend (because that was the code word, he supposed) and right. That he would definitely agree to.

"Yeah, that’s fine. I wouldn’t –" Malcolm shook his head. He wouldn’t try anything on anyone that he wasn’t sure was giving him the right signals to do something. “Just dinner, I promise.” Though they had already established it was a date. He pulled out a small pad of paper that he kept his equations in and a nub of a pencil (they were so much easier than quills) and quickly scrawled out his name and address. Malcolm folded it and reached forward to grab Jamie’s hand like he was shaking it and pressed the paper to his palm. "Owl me when you’re free for an evening, okay?"

Jamie took the address, nodding, and tucking both his hands in his pockets briefly. He then took them out, wiping them on his slacks, glancing around a moment, still feeling slightly paranoid. But he managed a smile, and said, "Can I get you anything else?"

Malcolm shook his head with a soft smile, "Nah, I think I have everything I need. Thank you." He put a little more emphasis on the last, because he wasn't just talking about dessert or foods. He was doing a little dance inside, because now he had a date with Jamie Dodderidge. He was so going to have a grin on his face forever.

Jamie nodded and gave Malcolm another smile. "Enjoy your dessert then," he said and then turned, heading to another table of his to tend to the customers there. He put all thoughts of what had just happened out of his mind for now, focusing first and foremost on his job. He could mull over what exactly he'd just agreed to later when he wouldn't have to worry about customers getting angry and complaining about poor service.