losttheright | (no subject)

Sometimes, if she really stops to think about it, Molly finds it almost odd how easy this is, how well it works. Her last serious relationship — which is to say, her only other serious relationship — always felt a little like playing house, pretending to be something she wasn't. The words were there, and the idea of the right feeling, but that life never really felt like hers. Maybe it's the history she and Stephen have shared and managed to move past, both back home and here, or maybe it's something else, but that never really seems to be the case with him.

She probably loves him. At least, she thinks that's it, what the word would be for what she feels for him. More than a year since he came knocking on her door remembering having been here before, nine months since she moved in with him, and feeling good about all of that, not bored or restless or anything of the sort, it seems to fit. She doesn't feel odd or panicked about it, either, which seems pretty telling in its own right. That is, when she considers it at all, which mostly, she doesn't. Things feel comfortable enough that she doesn't need to. Besides, she's never been much of a romantic.

Even so, and despite the fact that election season is probably the worst time for it, she's got it in her head that they could both use a break, and she has a plan. Neither of them is typically great at stepping away from their work, but one night off won't kill them. And one night off is what she's decided they should have, or at least a few hours.

"So," she says, half-draped over a chair, as casual as anything, "hypothetically speaking, what would be the chances of me getting you to call it a night early?"

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Stephen arches an eyebrow at her. After so much time together, he's learned her gestures and habits, her walks and expressions, and he can tell just by the way she saunters over that she's up to something. Not that he minds. Generally speaking, when Molly gets something into her head, it works out pretty well for him.

"Hypothetically?" he echoes. "I'd say your odds would be pretty good." They don't have a real candidate as far as he's concerned — council members are frankly a little too easy to campaign for — but he's still putting in the work as diligently as he would for a candidate higher up the ladder. Still, he thinks, he could afford to take a bit of a break.

It's exactly the kind of response she'd have hoped for, a fact for which Molly is both pleased and a little relieved. Willing as she'd have been to try to talk him into it, it's far easier if he's already on board with taking a night off rather than her having to convince him that this is a good idea. She's sure it is. One night won't make or break the election, not here and not when it's for city council. And while she isn't someone who needs constant attention or anything like that, hardly about to get annoyed that he spends so much time working when she does, too, it'll be nice to have a night without a campaign in the room with them, too.

"Good," she says, shooting him a bright smile. "Because I was thinking dinner, maybe finding a movie, pretending that we're not both workaholics for a night?"

"I don't know if I'm that good an actor," Stephen deadpans, feigning uncertainty in her proposal. In all honesty, though, it sounds good. He suspects the reason Molly gets him out of the office more than his past girlfriends ever could is precisely because she's as much of a workaholic as he is. She gets it, enough that she doesn't mind that they're working a city council election in a shabby little office with a fraction of the resources that he's used to. Or was, at least. Spend long enough anywhere, he figures, and a person's gonna adapt.

He taps his pen against his desk, pretending to think it over. "But, sure, I could go for dinner and a movie and pretending to be reasonably normal people." Besides, sometimes he likes to yield to her without any resistance just to see how pleased she looks when she gets her way.

"Hey, you pretend we're not workaholics, I'll pretend you're a good enough actor to sell it," Molly says, still grinning. It's hardly some grand scheme or anything she has to try to trick him into — there wouldn't be much point if it were, she thinks — but she's happy all the same with how this has gone over. With as busy as they keep themselves, one night off really shouldn't set them back, not the way it might have with the kind of campaign they were working on back home. As much as she wishes they had something more significant to be doing here, she'll still reap the benefits of that not being the case for now.

Beyond that, she hasn't given too much thought to this whole idea, hardly about to micromanage what could probably be considered but what she would never call a date night. Dinner and a movie is standard; the details of that, she's flexible on. "In that case, we should decide what we want to do for dinner."

Stephen leans back in his chair, nodding. "Probably smart," he agrees. There are places they know and like, safer and more reliable than some restaurants in Darrow, but he doesn't have any particular inclination one way or another. Besides, as much as he tends to (try to) take the lead at work, sometimes he enjoys deferring to Molly. When she gets her way, she lights up and he finds it utterly endearing.

Not that he's ever said as much. He suspects Molly would find such an observation corny at best. He can't help it, though, if sometimes she's adorable.

"Well, it's your idea. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Guess it depends if we want to go out or stay in," Molly says, shrugging easily. On that front, she's not overly picky. She wouldn't want to and she's not the type to approach something like this with a detailed list of everything they absolutely have to do, and there are upsides to both, anyway. Going out is something a little more different, more date-like, and would also probably make it easier to put everything else away for a while; staying in gives them more of a chance to get distracted doing other fun things. "I didn't want to plan everything out ahead of time, I figured you should probably get some say in this, too."

"Oh, very thoughtful of you," Stephen teases. Really, it's not like Molly calls all the shots here, and the days when he might have tried to convince himself he did are long past. He considers it a moment, fingers tapping against the desk. It might be nice to go out and have a date; they don't do that that often. They've settled into a comfortable day-to-day routine and, with all the work they're both inclined to do, dates aren't often a part of that.

But going home sounds so good.

"Why don't we head back to our place?" he says, brow arching suggestively. "Order in maybe."

"Alright," Molly says, grinning. "Home it is." Even if it is a bit less outside of the usual, heading back to their place definitely has its advantages, too. If she were set on the prospect of going out, she'd have said so. There are plenty of good places that deliver, and they'll probably be more comfortable not sitting at a table in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Besides, there's no waiting for the check and then to go back to their building after, which she considers a plus. It's not like she needs any excuse or a semi-date to get laid, but it sure as hell doesn't hurt.

"Ooh, I think that one place with the really good steaks might deliver, actually."