D'Aw (Javert, casual)

[JANE EYRE]

Ever since being set up on a blind date, Jane has had a different view of dating in general. It was partly because of who she had been set up with. Detective Philippe Javert had become a rather good friend since their first meeting. He wasn't like others she had known though there was some similarity to Edward. Not enough similarity for Jane to confuse the two or even compare them, but just enough for her to be comfortable around Philippe despite her shortcomings. Jane was easily flustered, rambled when nervous, and burnt dinner for them; she honestly didn't know why he still was interested in spending any time with her at all.

In an attempt to make up for the burnt dinner turned gumbo fiasco, Jane invited Philippe over for dinner once more. This time she was careful not to burn anything. Jane made a caserole and set a timer so that there was no way she's forget it in the oven and ruin it. There was even a dessert she had prepared much earlier, a lemon bar, that was resting on the counter, already cut into delicate little bars.

Jane found herself fidgeting infront of a mirror about five minutes before Philippe was to show and she caught herself. Scolding herself for being so silly, telling herself that it wasn't a date, that it was simply two friends having a meal, Jane couldn't help but worry about her outfit. She looked nice, she supposed, but she felt that it was almost too casual. Just as she was deciding whether or not to go and change outfits, there was a knock on her door.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert was not a romantic man.

He also didn't find many things "cute", but that gumbo fiasco... that was adorable, and even he had to admit it. She'd been so awkward, and he had tried to make the whole deal more natural, but truly, now he felt slightly awkward too. He had never really had a "crush" on any woman; that was something idle people and teenagers indulged themselves in. And Lord knows that he had much better things to do than date.

But it wasn't a date, that was the thing. A good thing, too. Jane was, for one thing, way too young for him. And for another, he was so busy that he would never have time for her. But he'd found time to come over tonight, hadn't he? And why had she asked him over, anyway? The detective didn't like to have answered questions buzzing around in his head, especially ones that dealt with questioning his own actions. He never questioned his own actions.

He waited patiently for her to answer the door, shaking his head about over how silly this all was. Never, ever, had Javert wondered what he should wear to something. And yet he distinctly remembered contemplating how casually he should dress. Friends- that's what he had to remember. And so he was dressed impeccably, as always, but not too... date-like.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane gave her appearance one last check in the mirror and went to answer the door. Opening it and smiling at her very tall guest, Jane moved to the side to let him in. "Hello Philippe, how are you tonight?" Jane closed the door behind him once he was inside. "If you could just take your shoes off, they'll go right there," Jane said, motioning to where her two pair of shoes rested on a mat by the front door. The wood floors in her new home were quite lovely and Jane didn't care for the idea of scuffing them. She herself shuffled around in a pair of nylons and would occasionaly slip. If it weren't for the company Jane would walk around with bare legs beneath her dress but that wasn't appropriate with a man in the apartment with her.

"You look nice this evening," Jane complimented, feeling rather dowdy herself. In her usual fashion Jane was wearing a conservative dress with her hair pulled back in a simple but effective manner. He was dressed handsomely as always. Smoothing her palms over her dress Jane lead the way to the kitchen. She pulled out glasses and filled them with ice, inquiring as to what Philippe would like to drink.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert gave her a rare smile when she answered the door, stepping around her lightly as if he thought perhaps he was too big to fit through the door. "I'm alright, thanks," he replied, leaning against the door frame to pop off his boots. He pushed off to follow her into the kitchen, looking about as he was wont to do.

"You look great yourself, Jane," he replied honestly. Of course he did; he was always honest, whether what he had to say was something she wanted to hear or not. When he was lead into her kitchen, he leaned casually against the counter as she got the glasses.

"I don't care. Whatever you have." He shrugged to emphasize his point and crossed his arms.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane blushed and went to her fridge. She pulled out the pitcher of iced tea she had made earlier and poured two glasses. Returning the pitcher to the ice box, Jane handed Philippe one glass. "I've made us sheppard pie for dinner tonight and I promise that I won't burn this one!"

Sheppard pies weren't terribly difficult to make but Jane knew how to make a delicious one. Layers of meat, peas, corn, mashed potatoes and a sauce that was bubbling on the stove was all one needed to feel satisfied after a meal. It was the sort of meal that Lowood teachers promised would put meat on her bones (they were mistaken, obviously) and it was comforting. After what had happened last time Jane cooked, she wanted to take a relatively safe path.

Spinning on her heel to check the timer, Jane overbalanced and her stockinged feet slid from beneath her. Giving a small squeak of surprise, Jane's arms windmilled as she tried to regain her balance without hitting Philippe or the hot stove.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert chuckled a little, taking a sip from his glass. "Sheppard pies are hard to burn, to be sure. You really are way too-" He had been about to say 'English' but her sudden flailing cut him off. Instinctively, he hastily set aside his glass; he wasn't the one who dealt with the fainting women at his crime scenes, but his reflexes were as wolf-like as ever, and his first instinct was to help Jane.

As she swayed and tipped and began to fall back, he took a step forward and caught her, his arms looped under hers. "Whoaa, there, hold your horses," Javert said, straightening up and helping her stabilize herself. "I recommend bare feet. Traction is your friend."

[JANE EYRE]

Jane hasitly righted herself and pulled herself from Philippe's arms. Blushing a furious red, Jane walked carefully over to the timer. Still about 15 minutes. "Bare feet may be better for traction, but it wouldn't be appropriate," Jane answered shakily, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was always so clumsy it was embarassing. Most of the time she was far more composed but on the wood floor and around the detective Jane had let her balance and school-taught grace go.

The stockings were something else Jane had seen a difference in New York. Women here hardly ever wore nylons, they were always out and about with bare legs and short skirts. Jane could never do that. It was due mostly to the etiquette she had been taught but also because it was too cold to go without stockings throughout a good portion of the year.

Busying her hands with stirring the sauce and getting a pot holder ready for the hot sheppard's pie, Jane mumbled a late thank you and tried to calm her blush.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert leaned back against the counter again, picking up his glass. He watched her simply turn her back, even though he'd already caught her heavy blush. For a second, he thought that perhaps she was blushing because of him, but rethought: no, she was just embarrassed. "If you say so," he replied, shrugging.

He waited expectantly for a thank-you, and when it finally did come, he said, "Sure. Saving the day is what I do, non?" Javert chuckled to himself, admittedly a little awkward, which was very abnormal for him.

"So..." He'd never said that. Ever. He'd always talked to someone because he had something to say, never to save himself from an awkward silence. He didn't get awkward.

[JANE EYRE]

The time between the slip and when Jane was pulled the sheppard's pie out the oven had passed awkwardly. Jane had made a few attempts at conversation, all of which fell flat. Carefully Jane pulled the caserole dish from the oven and sat it on the counter, the sauce was poured into a small dish, and dishes and utensils were gathered.

Jane hadn't set the table (which was covered in paperwork that she did not want to lose) so she had pulled two stools up to the counter. It was a bit pedestrian to be sure, but Jane felt more at ease that way. She divied up the sheppard's pie, cutting squares in the pan and dishing it out calmly. Her hand only shook a little and Jane attributed it to the fact that she had nearly fallen just moments ago.

"Here you are," Jane handed Philippe a plate. "I hope you like it. I've made dessert also, so...there's that afterwards," Jane said, feeling more than her fair share of foolish. This wasn't right. It was just dinner with a friend. Why did it have to be so awkward?

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert took a seat, leaning against the counter, as he watched her serve the food. Maybe silence was the best thing, if they couldn't think of anything to say. It was certainly better than any painfully awkward conversation they might, by chance, think up.

"Merci," he said, taking his plate and lingering over it with the fork for a minute before taking a bite. As he chewed, his eyebrows raised, and he pushed the food into one cheek to comment, "Nice job," his voice muffled.

Javert spared a glance over at her, observing her impeccable table manners- compared to his, she could have been the Queen of England, but he didn't feel self conscious about it for a moment. He also didn't bother to mention how nervous she looked, though he couldn't imagine why she was nervous. Maybe he was giving off some sort of weird vibe. He needed to stop that.

[JANE EYRE]

"Thank you," Jane said between small bites. She wrinkled her nose when Philippe spoke with his mouth full but didn't comment. It wasn't her place to correct table manners. After all, she had been taught with nearly archaic etiquette standards and almost no one bothered to follow etiquette any more. That meant, she supposed, that she was the one doing something off. "Sheppards pie is really the only thing I can cook well,"

It was fool proof, of course Jane could cook it.

The silence was probably preferrable to awkward conversation but Jane didn't cope well with silence. "How's your work been going?" The fact that Philippe was a detective was an interesting one for Jane. The job entailed danger, mystery, and so much logic. All things that Jane enjoyed (to an extent) but didn't get to experience very often. Of course, there was that time that Bertha had attacked that man and Jane had to stop the blood flow. That was excitement, but mostly it had been fear of the man bleeding out. Shaking her head to clear away those thoughts, Jane sipped her drink and awaited an answer.