ArchivedLogs:Having Fun

Having Fun
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Lucien	2013-08-11 '
Location <NYC> Gioiello - Gramercy Park
With a cuisine focused in the heart of the Meditteranean, this restaurant truly is a jewel of New York's dining scene. Its dress code is black tie and its reservations are booked months in advance, but all who come agree that the wait is well worth it. The chef here is praised by gourmands far and wide. The decor matches the high standards of the cuisine; quiet sumptuous elegance to fit the sumptuous palate. For those who can afford its hefty price tag, it is a stop of every foodie's docket. Eveningtime is the busiest time for Gioello's - not that it particularly has any times which are not packed. An open table is rarer than a New Yorker Red Sox fan. Every member of the staff and every guest is dressed to the nines, suits and tuxedos making their way between the tables and eating the food as it is brought out to them. Sitting at a table near the back is Iolaus, seemingly unaccompanied for the moment. Sitting alone at the table, his attention is focused between looking around the room and reading the email off of the cell phone he has politely tucked in his lap. He is in a tuxedo, black gleaning in the low light, and his smile is warm. The menu lays, un-touched, on the table in front of him. Lucien arrives not long afterwards -- though uncharacteristically compared to his usual /precise/ punctuality, about ten minutes late. He makes his way to Iolaus's table after a brief quiet exchange with the maitre d'. No smile on his face, just a quietly composed expression; subdued, it goes well with the muted deep grey of his tux. His hand rests on Iolaus's shoulder for a moment, and he leans in to press a small kiss to the other man's temple before taking his own seat opposite. "Iolaus. My apologies; I was delayed. How are you doing?" "No apologies are necessary, Lucien." Iolaus says, looking up at the other man and turning his face briefly to brush it against the other man's lips. "I'm doing quite well. How about yourself, Lucien? How are things going?" A pause, and his smile is somewhat small, though the twinkling in his eyes shows his amusement more fully. "When you were late, I assumed something catastrophic had happened." "Being late is not catastrophic enough?" Lucien's eyebrows raise, and though he does not smile there's amusement there, too, warming his quietly accented voice. "Things are going well enough. I happened by your construction site the other day. The progress is impressive. Are you getting nervous, yet?" "Terrified." Iolaus says, shaking his head once in amusement. "We've started looking to hire medical staff, and the rest of the staff that we need to open." A pause, and he glances around before leaning in closer to Lucien. "We're planning to open in late September." he says, sotto voce. "I cannot imagine that is an easy task, in the current climate," Lucien murmurs, lips compressing for a moment as he picks up his menu and opens it to look it over. His eyebrows raise, eyes lifting from menu to Iolaus's face. "That soon? Goodness. Good luck. For your sake I hope the city calms down a little." "No, certainly, it is not too easy." A pause, and Iolaus looks over the other man for a moment. "We are looking all over the country, and I'm sure we will be starting with a skeleton staff. Still," he muses, "Some staff is better than none, and with the way things are going in the city, people need the help." The doctor picks up his menu as well, opening it and looking down at it. "How is things with your family?" "Mmm. Busy." Lucien's eyes drop back down to his menu, contemplative. "Now more than ever, I think. It is occasionally tempting to simply not read the news. You have found some rather excellent staff already, at least. It is a shame quality in one area cannot make up for a lack in another." His finger drifts down the page, brows creasing for a moment. "Mackerel is not in season, is it." He sounds a little wistful. "Very much so," Iolaus says, softly. The doctor glances down at his own menu and shakes his head. "I don't think so, no. Fish has never been my forte, though. I never am quite sure what is when, and what goes well with what." A soft chuckle and he shrugs. "Meat is more my area of expertise, as far as having one." He turns his eyes back onto Lucien. "Did I see Desiree around campus? I thought I saw a glimpse of her on campus some day, but I may have been mistaken." Lucien's eyebrows raise, briefly, but his eyes stay on his menu. "Unless she has a doppleganger, I very much doubt it. Though, given the nature of the school," he continues wryly, "I would hardly be surprised if she did. -- Perhaps the squash blossoms, then, to start. Their clam has always been good." He lowers the menu slightly, glancing back upwards at Iolaus. "I certainly have never had complaints about your handling of meat." Iolaus' cheeks color lightly, and he looks down at his menu. "I'm glad to hear it. Nor I, yours. Though, somehow, I doubt anyone has. You are quite the chef." he says, nodding his head once in acknowledgement. "It does sound the kind of thing that happens. I have had whole conversations with people who do not look like they did a day before," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "Sometimes, they end up being the wrong person." This draws a quiet chuff of laughter from Lucien. "It sounds, at the least, never boring. I suppose you have plenty enough excitement to look forward to, though. Your future work is like to just be plenty more of the same." His eyebrows raise, his eyes lifting from his menu as he closes it. "I hope you have still been finding time to relax. And do not say," he says with a small twitch of lips, "that that is what you are doing now; I see you so rarely. There is plenty of time between our meetings to work yourself to the bone." Iolaus' smile widens a little bit and he nods. "Teaching has been relaxation for me," he says, eyes twinkling. "Somewhat. Work in one way, and yet relaxing in the other. I have a few students who very well might be able to become physicians or researchers in their own right. One or two who are good enough that I would consider hiring them as post-docs, if they weren't in high school." This, it seems, is as evasive of an answer as he's going to give, as he closes his menu and takes a long sip of his water. "I ask if you relax, and you tell me about your second job." Lucien's tone is exceedingly dry, his smile compressing faintly as his eyes meet Iolaus's. "Iolaus, do you even know how to have fun?" "I'm here, aren't I?" Iolaus says, grinning at the other man. "Yes, I know how to have fun. But there are simply not enough hours in the day to get in everything that I want to do, and have fun on top. I budget it to have the most fun that I can." "You are here," Lucien agrees in a quietly noncommittal tone. His head tips to the side, expression faintly thoughtful. "I suppose that should flatter me." Iolaus looks puzzled for a moment, a brief flash splashing over his eyes and face. "I didn't know that you held me in high enough esteem to be flattered, Lucien. Your time is valuable, and valued high by people far and wide, I'm sure. Do they not make you feel flattered similarly?" Lucien tips his hand upwards. "Most of my companions have myriad ways in which they relax and entertain themselves, of which I am only one small part. I am not sure I should be any more flattered than, mmm." He glances around their opulent surroundings. "This restaurant's proprietor is that we have elected to dine here." "There are other things I do to relax. I get some exercise, though less these days. I read, drink tea, and cook. I could just order out all my meals, if finances weren't an issue, but I could certainly cook simpler than I do." Iolaus protests, weakly. "Though, I admit, I look forward to seeing you more than any of those." Lucien's hand drops to meet the other, fingertips pressing together in a splayed sort of steeple. "Mmm." Noncommittal, again; Lucien's eyes study Iolaus's for a long moment through this weak protest. Eventually his hand drops further, fingers resting lightly over Iolaus's. It does not come with its typical subtle-soft wash of feeling; just the warmth of his hand against Iolaus's and a silent outward stretch of searching through the other man's current state of being. "Are you happy, Iolaus?" Iolaus pauses, looking at the other man for several moments with a small smile on his face. "That is... a complicated question," he says, lips lilting to one side. Indeed, from his emotions, it seems to be. Along with the pleasure at Lucien's company, there is a desire unfulfilled. As his mind, even now, churns on work, on different thoughts that flit back and forth, it is not incorrect to say that he is happy, but nor is it particularly right. Content might be a better word, or perhaps sated - a comfortable emotion, to be sure, but not a particularly ecstatic one. "But, I think, a simple answer: yes." "Simple answer to a complicated question." Lucien's lips twitch upwards, slightly. Now, there /is/ a soft push of warmth that trickles quietly out into Iolaus's mind. He sits back, looking upwards with a faintly wider smile as the waiter approaches to take their order. "Well. It is, at least, a start. Sometimes I suppose that is all I can ask."