paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: James Watson and Christina McKinney
What: Dinner
When: Sometime after her doctor's appointment
Where: James's room
Rating: British swears stuff

James had offered her dinner, it was as much an apology to her for not informing her about the, well possiblity as it were as it was a way to say thank you for things. For not killing him during Valentine's day, for dealing with his quirks (even if they both disagreed on things) and just an offer as a, possible, friend to her.

So he had cleaned up what little mess there was, made the table straight, cleaned up himself, fed and relocated his dog (somewhat). And then had put dinner on the stove (nothing fancy really), and was now prepared to wait for her, looking as casual as possible (for him anyway) in slacks, a button down shirt and a jacket over that.

The lighting was normal and the music on (an instumental piece Declan had recommended to him at one point) was hardly of a romantic type. No he was not out to woo her, just have her comfortable, and if she weren't then he would change that. This was, after all about her really.

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Christina was a little uneasy about the dinner. After the Valentine's weekend she'd agreed but then something else had come up. Her appointment, the news that she wouldn't become any further pregnant. She didn't hate him for not telling her but she was still annoyed - a little angry. And scared. As much of a friend he was she wasn't sure how to deal with it all. She'd spoken to Galadriel but it hadn't helped much - no one knew how to deal with it.

She'd dressed herself up a little for dinner but not much, just enough to look better than presentable. Christina felt foolish for how she felt, she wasn't nervous about him or dinner but it was hard to ignore everything that she now knew. She was just hoping that it wouldn't be the focus of dinner - or much of a part of the conversation.

Christina left her room just a few minutes before he'd asked her to arrive, being a few doors down gave her an advantage on that (although that was probably the only good thing about being on the sixth floor). She lingered for a few moments outside his door before eventually knocking, releasing a sigh as she smoothed her hands over her clothes. She could get through this.

No he supposed no one did know how to handle it. This was, a complicated situation, her present issue and he really couldn't figure out how to help her. The fact that she had spoken to Galadriel as well (not that he knew of course) said something about how odd this was, if she couldn't help, and he couldn't and any other doctor couldn't, than what else could be done?

And she hardly had to dress herself up for dinner with him really, he was just fine with whatever she wore. But when he opened the door a few moments after her knocking he did smile, trying to be as friendly and welcoming as possible. It was a little difficult really, all things considered. "Welcome, do please come inside, dinner will be ready shortly." He said as he stepped out of the way, inviting her in.