happy_dsign | For Wilke: New York Christmas date

"You can dress me in anything you want," Wilke said, then twisted his mouth, remembering what he'd seen in one shop window while looking for his jacket, "within reason. I just don't want to spend an hour trying on fifteen pairs of pants."

"I'm not that into shopping," Daphne promised. It was more the novelty of being able to pick out anything and take it, with money no object, than the actual shopping that made her want to do this. She could try on dresses that cost thousands of dollars and keep them. (At least until New York disappeared, probably.)

"I could be wrong, but I think we've arrived at the shopping portion of the evening." Wilke looked up when the cab slowed, then turned back to her. "Just out of curiosity, do I get to know where I'm planning on taking you next, or is it a surprise?"

"We just got here and you're already trying to move onto the next part?" Daphne teased, then climbed out of the cab, looking up at Sak's Fifth Avenue with an excited glimmer in her eyes. "Ice skating at Rockefeller next."

"Not trying anything like that," Wilke said, hand to his chest again like she'd wounded him with her words. "I was just curious to see how awesome I am at date planning."

"Very awesome," Daphne assured him solemnly, then took his hand and headed for the store windows, wanting to look at the famed Christmas displays before they went inside.

Wilke kept his hand in hers while they looked at the displays. Well, she looked and he glanced. Mostly, though, he was keeping an eye on the crowds around them and his arms around her protectively. Granted, the weird ghost-things around them probably couldn't mug them or anything, but he wasn't taking that chance, either.

Daphne didn't need the protection, but she smiled and leaned into him anyway, liking that he wanted to keep her safe. The displays were as amazing as they'd always seemed in movies, and Daphne spent several minutes inspecting them all, trying to take in every detail. Finally, though, she turned and kissed his jaw, then smiled brightly up at him. "Dresses now?"

Wilke laughed and stepped around, signing as he spoke. "Yes, dresses now." He held the door for her before following her through it, shedding his coat and gloves once they were inside the warm store. "Lead on," he added once they'd cleared the makeup counters with the freaky almost-people trying to get them with cologne and perfume.

Daphne tugged her coat off once they were inside as well, grinning at him as she headed, not for the misses section, but to evening wear. If she was going to try on dresses she'd never been able to afford before now, they were going to be glamorous and sexy and...and hopefully Wilke would find her modeling them less than boring.

Boring was pretty much the last word he would have used. Torture might work, though a lot of that was his own fault for wearing jeans today. Okay, he hadn't known when he'd gotten dressed this morning that he'd be treated to the sight of her parading past him in one sexy dress after another. God, the dresses. It didn't matter that all the important parts were covered, they offered the promise that one turn, one slip...fuck. He ran a hand over his face, adjusted in his seat again, and wished to hell he hadn't made such a big deal about trying on clothes himself, because he'd give just about anything for a pair of Dockers right now.

Daphne felt like one part runway model and one part little girl playing dress-up in her mother's clothing. The dresses were completely gorgeous, but she felt weird in them at the same time, like she wasn't supposed to be wearing them.

Still, there was New Year's Eve to think of, and so she was seriously considering each one. "What do you think?" she asked as she ducked out of the dressing room in yet another dress. "Too much?" She plucked self-consciously at the ruffle going across the front.

It took him a second to swallow past the sudden constriction in his throat. "I don't think there's enough material to ever call that 'too much,'" Wilke commented when he found his voice. "It's beautiful, Daphne. Almost as much as the woman in it."

The look in his eyes as he looked at her said more than his words, and she ducked her head, blushing faintly as she smiled. "I'll get this one," she decided. "Do you want to shop for anything, or should we move on to ice skating?"

The blush was just about as much as he could take. In deference to his seriously uncomfortable jeans, Wilke stood and crossed the few steps to where she stood in front of the mirrors. "In a minute."

He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, and drew her back against him and he didn't really care than she could feel just how shopping had affected him. Once their eyes met in the mirror he smiled. "You are beautiful."

Daphne felt a little thrill vibrate through her body as she felt his arousal press against her backside. She leaned back against him and smiled, watching him in the mirror. "Thank you," she mouthed and signed.

Wilke turned her then and closed the distance in a blink. His mouth slanted over hers more needy than possessive, his mind already turning over the various ways he wanted to take that dress off of her. When he had a near desperate need to press her back agains the mirror and...

He broke the kiss and stepped back, looking into her eyes, his own just this side of wild. "I'm going to meet you out front, okay?"

His expression was nearly enough to make Daphne call the whole thing off and just grab a cab back to his place, but she'd planned all of this out and wanted to see it through. Oh, but the end of the night was looking very promising.

She nodded and touched his cheek lightly, briefly, then let her hand fall. "I'll be out in a minute."

Wilke nodded, kissed her forehead, then headed out of Saks and onto the street. He didn't put his gloves on or even his jacket. Thankfully, the frigid outdoor temperature did just what he'd hoped it would do. That and a quick review of multiplication tables, and his body was back to normal in no time.

Despite the fact that they didn't need money here, Daphne still went to the register to get the dress carefully boxed up and placed in a bag, then requested that it be delivered to her home address so she didn't have to carry it around while they skated. She still needed to accessorize, but she could take care of that later. For now she wanted to get back to her date.

She strode outside and looked around, spotting Wilke and crossing to him to take his hand. "Ice skating?"

Once his body had stopped making some seriously insane demands, Wilke had donned his jacket again, and his gloves, then linked their fingers together when she joined him. "Ice skating huh? Does the fact I'm probably going to look like a five year old wreck my good-night kiss chances later?"

"What, big old lacrosse boy can't ice skate?" she teased as they started walking down 49th toward the Rockefeller rink. "I don't know if I can respect you enough for a goodnight kiss, now that I know that." Of course, she had bigger plans than a kiss, but she was trying not to get hung up on thinking about it and chicken out.

"Nope, I've never been on ice skates before. Because of my back, my parents put a big 'oh Hell no' on that one," Wilke said then turned his attention to flagging down a cab for them.

"Your back?" Daphne slowed her steps, frowning as she looked at him in concern. "What's wrong with your back?" And how was lacrosse okay, but ice skating off limits?

Edited 2012-12-31 06:40 (UTC)

"Yeah, you know...," Wilke blinked, then laughed a little, holding the door to the cab for her. "That's right, you don't know. I told you back home, the night of our first date. I had to have back surgery when I was a kid. Scoliosis."

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