Sallie's birthday.

[realmrsreynolds]

Today is Sallie's birthday, and she's not overly thrilled with that notion.

She'll live with it, though (like she does every year), and when she gets out of bed she finds that one of the Loompas has started making the birthday present deliveries earlier than usual - there is a potted mini-rosebush sitting on one of her kitchen countertops.

Dinner tomorrow? I know you must have a date tonight.
Happy birthday, Mother. Wo ai ni.

Malcolm

Sallie just laughs, sticking the card into one of the pockets of her robe as she starts to move around and make herself some morning coffee. Not a bad day's start.

Comments

[realmrsreynolds]

It's a noisy shuffle going on inside before Sallie makes it to the door, opening it to let Splinter inside while she finishes clipping on her second earring she borrowed to match the dress Sallie asked for from Bar.

"You're early, you know," Sallie chides lightly.

[mnr_splinter]

"I do, and you have my..."
There's a noticeable pause as his rehearsed apology slips from his mind at the sight of her.

"...I am sorry," is the best he can salvage at the last second.

[realmrsreynolds]

"You're forgiven. You look very dashing, sir," Sallie beams, now appropriately bejeweled. "Let me find my purse?"

[mnr_splinter]

And he does. Who knew sewer rats cleaned up so nice?

He fidgets slightly at her praise, tugging gently on the sleeve of his dress shirt, and checking for the fifteenth time that his cuff-links are still there.

Curious things, cuff-links.

"May I be of assistance?"

[realmrsreynolds]

"At finding my purse? I don't think so. Can't have you peekin' and all."

Not that she's got anything fun in there - just a Security badge (in case), lipstick, some money, and maybe possibly opera glasses. Bar was being funny.

Returning with both purse and wrap in tow, "Now then. We're off, hmm?"

[mnr_splinter]

"Yes. Allow me to refresh my memory as to where we're going."

He reaches into one of the interior pockets of his coat and retrieves a folded piece of paper along with a small bundle wrapped in white silk. The paper contains the address of the restaurant, along with a general map of the area, and the handkerchief the chalk he'll be using to draw the doorway.

Almost absentmindedly, Splinter makes his way to the wall on his right, and without raising his eyes from the paper, begins to draw a chalk outline of a door with his free hand.

[realmrsreynolds]

"...This part never gets old," Sallie mumbles, only half-cognizant of it being aloud.

The door turns from chalk-on-wall to reality shifting aside to lead somewhere else. So pretty.

"Lead on, baobei."

[mnr_splinter]

Splinter doesn't know why he's as nervous as he is about traveling through this particular door. His mind was clear as he drew it, his purpose resolute. And yet...there's a hint of anxiety that nips at his heels as he pulls the doorway open revealing a quiet unassuming alleyway a few blocks from the restaurant.

As he leans his head out to make sure the coast is clear, he wraps the chalk and once again stows it in jacket pocket.

It's not until he turns back towards Sallie that the source of his discomfort comes in the shape of one elegantly dressed beautiful woman.
Suddenly the plot of every coming-of-age story he's ever seen makes so much more sense to him.

"Shall we?"

[realmrsreynolds]

"Absolutely."

It isn't as though Sallie isn't nervous either. She hasn't been on a date (with a living human being, at least) in quite some time.

But they did run away from New York City cops together, so Sallie figures luck will be on their side regardless.

When they walk towards the opera house, Sallie doesn't quite know what to expect. "I never actually thought to look up a picture o' what this place was. Is it well-known, or are we here on account o' the Chinese?"

[mnr_splinter]

"A little of both, if I am to be completely honest with you, Sallie. I have it on good authority that the National Centre for the Performing Arts is hard to miss, but have not seen it myself. Where we are dining this evening boasts having the most beautiful view of the opera house the city has to offer."

So...there's that.
Splinter assumes the opera house itself will be a call back to classical Chinese architecture, in short...he is not prepared.

[realmrsreynolds]

"Dinner's first, though, so we can find out in a bit -- "

Except that the street opens up to the courtyard nearest the north part of the lake nearby.

...Which surrounds the biggest metal egg Sallie's ever seen.

[mnr_splinter]

"....great googly moogly," is all Splinter can say when he catches sight of the opera house

"That is not what I was expecting at all."

[realmrsreynolds]

"We should've done more research."

But it would have spoiled the surprise, Sallie thinks -- and the surprise was really good.

"Wow."

[mnr_splinter]

"I am not so sure about that."

Splinter is of the mind that this would be surprising even if he'd known it was coming.

[realmrsreynolds]

"But now...now I'm going to be all distracted during dinner," Sallie chortles at herself. She pokes Splinter in the shoulder as though this is a problem of some sort. "How am I supposed to make adorable conversation in the shadow of the Egg that Ate China?"

[mnr_splinter]

"We could always school our amazement so as to appear aloof, and then we would appear mysterious instead of as shameless tourists."

[realmrsreynolds]

"Ain't that good at lyin'. Come on - let's go eat."

[mnr_splinter]

It's only due to Sallie's insistence that Splinter is able to peel his eyes away from the strange building.

They arrive at the front door to the restaurant, and before Splinter can open the door for Sallie, it is opened for both of them by a doorman. It would appear that five star service begins before one even reaches the maitre'd.

Splinter can only assume that the man behind the desk is asking if they have a reservation, and as such he answers, "Hamato."

[realmrsreynolds]

"They have funny accents," Sallie offers rather offhandedly once they are seated. "Guess that makes sense, though - I thought I'd understand more than I have so far."

[mnr_splinter]

"We are doomed," he says as impassively as he can manage.

[realmrsreynolds]

"You're lucky we're in public. I might have to toss something at you elsewise."

Regardless, Sallie retains her composure as they manage to order food. Sallie does most of the ordering, even when the server's eyebrows arch at her accent.

"How long did it take you to concoct this particular scheme?"

[mnr_splinter]

Better her than him. If people think his accent in English is strong, it's only because they haven't heard him attempt to butcher Chinese.

"The idea itself? Or the execution?"

[realmrsreynolds]

"Either. I'm curious."

[mnr_splinter]

"I thought that if I were to continue subjecting you to opera in a language only I understood, it would be polite to extend to you the same courtesy. As for the time it took me to make the arrangements. Well..."

He pauses long enough to square his shoulders.

"The better part of a week is how long it took me to overcome my pride and ask Michaelangelo for help."

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie hisses in sympathy. "A week? It'd take me at least three. I hope he was polite."