Elliot was still wondering why she allowed herself to come here and be part of this. She was still feeling so awkward about the idea of a "date" even if it really wasn't an official one. Okay, maybe it was really the idea of finding romance with somebody; the last time she tried being romantic with someone it didn't end well for her.

So, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous around this man sitting in front of her. Though, she had to admit, he was kind of cute. There were a few other men around she let her eyes linger on for a moment, and she even caught sight of a few familiar faces among the group who had gathered for this little event. Thus there was a bit more noise going on than she was used to since she didn't visit bars or pubs very often. Never had a real reason to go. Elliot wasn't much of a drinking companion anyway, since she refused to drink anymore. Nevertheless, she tried her best and put on a brave smile as she brought her hand out to shake.

"Hi, I'm Elliot. Nice to meet you." She paused for a split second, wondering if maybe she should say something more, feeling ever more awkward with every instance. Then, she decided to add in quickly: "Uh, I'm the manager at Flourish and Blotts."

Finding girls was not a difficult task for Carter Beatleby, who regularly received fan mail from a high number of women. These women ranged from quirky to obsessive, and in some cases Carter had been forced to get the law involved. Life as a somewhat-celebrity was a weird thing, but it was only a side effect of getting to have an awesome job. It didn’t hurt his ego, either, to have pretty girls going mad over him.

So Carter was fairly surprised when the young witch he’d been paired with was able to introduce herself without fumbling for words or spontaneously squealing just because she was in his presence. This woman wasn’t a fellow quidditch player, either, which made her distinct lack of dramatic reaction that much more irksome.

“Carter,” he said in response to her humble introduction. He smiled at the girl, whose personality could be observed in her looks. “Uh, I’m the manager at Flourish and Blotts.” -- So she spent her days behind glasses and among books. Quite contrary from Carter’s profession. “I play for the Canons,” he added quickly, feeling a little self-conscious by the lack of recognition, “Nice to meet you too.”

He didn’t know where to go from here, really. It had been a while since he talked to a female about anything but himself or sports. Cart could tell already that he’d have to come up with more than that in order to keep this girl entertained. “Read anything… lately?” Carter asked vaguely, with a smile he hoped she would find charming.

He did have a nice smile, Elliot had to admit that. It reminded her of Ambrose, who near constantly smiled, and that was an endearing trait about him. And from the way this Carter character was acting, his tone of voice and the way he was smiling, he seemed to a be a little nervous, or maybe she was misinterpreting his behavior. Nevertheless, at least he was trying and the least she could do was try as well and keep the conversation going.

"You play for the Canons?" she asked, recognizing the name. She thought for a moment before she realized why. "Oh, you mean the Chudly Canons? I know them." She gave a chuckle, her crooked smile appearing while still feeling a little awkward. She waved her hands in front of her. "Sorry, I don't keep up too much with Quidditch. I know a few teams. That's about it."

Elliot couldn't bear how awkward she was feeling and broke her eyes away from his, hiding her mouth behind her hands as she rested her elbows on the table. "I have a...fairly boring life. Books have been my escape for a while," she said, beginning to answer Carter's question about what she'd read. "I tend to read mostly histories."

"So, how long have you been playing for the Canons?" she asked suddenly, throwing the focus back on him. The longer she didn't have to talk about herself right now the more she could compose herself. She just had to somehow convince herself that all of this was just a way to make friends and not necessarily find a significant other, possibly. She let herself doubt that there was anyone here who was genuinely interested in someone like her.

"Sorry, I don't keep up too much with Quidditch. I know a few teams. That's about it."

And with that went a massive chunk of Carter’s conversation topics and general knowledge.

Still their eyes connected, and Carter couldn’t help but feel bashful; he looked down and smiled, showing his dimples. He couldn’t see the bottom half of her face but steady eye contact like that didn’t really happen often. Carter was used to people whizzing by him at high speeds, and their eyes were generally searching for a ball.

"I have a...fairly boring life. Books have been my escape for a while. ….I tend to read mostly histories."

History was something Carter could get on board with. He didn’t know much about it but the topic had always captured at least a few of the chunks of his mind left over after sports knowledge. “Histories huh?” Cart showed off an impressed face and tried to think of something ancient he could talk about. “My nan was-” Oof. Probably a bad choice. Keep going! “.... My nan was a History professor at a university in America.” The cute bespectacled girl would probably want to go hang out with his nan rather than him, at his point.

“I’ve been playing for them about two years,” Cart answered her question, “But other, not as good teams before that.” He smiled after sharing his team loyalty. He couldn’t help it -- Carter knew he was one of the lucky people able to live out one of their childhood dreams.
"How long've you been at Flourish & Blotts?" It felt like the fair question to ask. Was this supposed to be speedy? Was he asking the right questions? Carter had not the slightest inkling.

Elliot made a mental comment about how he looked somewhat boy-ish in the way he was smiling now. It made him seem younger than he was, which made her realize she didn't even know how old he was to begin with. She guessed he was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He just had that kind of youthful appearance to him.

"How long've you been at Flourish & Blotts?"

She drew her hands away from her mouth, now feeling a little bit less awkward though traces of the feeling were still there floating about in her head. "A few years. A little over three, actually, if I remember correctly," she replied. She fiddled absentmindedly with her fingers, the traces of feeling awkward having traveled down her arms and into her hands.

"You said your nan taught history?" The crooked smile returned, lighting up with genuine interest. "I studied history while I was at Laevenstrome's. I've always had a liking for that sort of thing." She shrugged, looking away again. "That's why I read so much of it."

And the game of conversation tennis continued as she knocked the topic ball back towards Carter, looking back to him. "So, what place do you play in the Canons?" She remembered the few times she watched a game; and admittedly, she liked to watch that particular sport. It could get confusing to her, what with all the racing in every possible direction, complete chaos avoided only by the team colors. Even then Elliot didn't know which player did what.

Carter took (probably mistook) Elliot's question about what position he played to show her untapped passion for Quidditch. This hypothesis had a lot to do with Cart's nervous energy regarding the idea of 'speed dating.' He had never really been that good at talking to girls. When he'd been at Hogwarts, he'd been chubby enough to earn himself the nickname 'Moose,' and as a grown man he'd barely had a relationship longer than a few months.

"I'm a chaser," Carter answered, "It's the oldest position in quidditch history, actually." This he remembered from one of the countless magazines he'd read on the sport. He wasn't much of a book reader, but if there was a quidditch player on the front, Cart was almost sure to at least give it a second glance.

"I know a lot of people say the Cannons aren't a good team," Cart continued, bypassing Elliot's question about whatever it was.  "after all, our team motto is 'Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best" -- he laughed, but this was a genuine fact. "But in the past decade we've come closer than we ever have to making it to the Cup. And that's without any Felix Felicius, mind," Cart grinned at his own joke. "I think since they fired Ragmar Dorkins as coach, we've been doing a lot better!" Ragmar Dorkins had famously collapsed after the Cannons won a game after -- well, it was rather a long losing streak, but Dorkins' collapse probably hadn't mustered up a lot of team pride.

Carter was starting to grow passionate about the Cannons' potential, forgetting now that he was supposed to be on a date, a quick one at that, and he was meant to be charming the knickers off Elliot. Cart gestured emphatically with his hands as he persisted with the sports talk. "All we need is a really good season and we'd make it to a tourney-- we have all the players we need. Always had great pitch skills. Ever seen Radmancher after the snitch?" Carter made a zooming noise as he ejected his arm forward, directly into Elliot's drink. It was as if he'd been aiming for it.

His face fell. "Oh -- uh ---" Carter stammered, looking around frantically for some solution. "Worse than Dragomir Gorgovitch, I am..." This sports joke was sure to go over Elliot's head.

Elliot startled back when her glass toppled over and spilled its contents onto the table after Carter's forward thrust with his arm sent it that way. Thankfully only a couple of drops from the fall splattered onto her shirt, so she wasn't bothered by that. The rest of it sat on the table and quickly made its way to the edge, so she had to draw her chair away to avoid getting dripped on and have her jeans stained as well. She fumbled with a napkin and tried to wipe the liquid away before it got onto the floor.

"No, no, it's okay," she said, working on cleaning up the slight mess. "I wasn't planning on drinking it anyway." Honestly, she wouldn't drink a drop of whatever alcohol was served to her. She wasn't going to possibly make an idiot of herself due to intoxication, nor let her judgement slip from her either. She'd done enough of that years ago, and she was done.

Though the table was still a little sticky from the spilled drink Elliot managed to clean most of it up.  She set the now empty glass in the center of table and set the used napkin off to the side. "You get pretty enthusiastic when you talk about Quidditch," she said, amused, her crooked smile now bigger than it had been since the start of this speed dating thing.

Somehow Carter's spilling her drink broke the awkward feeling she had been experiencing. Elliot sat back into her chair, feeling more at ease. It's possible it was because of his proving to be a little silly that made her feel that she didn't have so keep herself to tense around him. "Have you always been this passionate about the sport? Or was it a result of playing for the Canons?" She could certainly relate though. She, herself, could talk anyone's ear off about historical events, or simply bore them  with the topic up to the point that they walk away.

As a trained athlete, Carter was shocked that he could have such spastic behavior. He had always been awkward around girls, never having a lasting relationship. He felt like they were an entirely different species, Now that he had a small amount of fame, he had a lot of access to girls desperate to be near him. They didn’t ask any questions, but they also barely listened to anything he had to say.

Carter grabbed for a napkin and tried to sop up some of the mess on the table. “I’m really sorry,” Carter said earnestly. What else could he say? He continued scrubbing at the table with all his might, meanwhile trying to come up with some way of repairing this tragic scenario.

In his efforts to clean the table Carter leaned forward, slipped out of his chair and crash-landed at Elliot’s feet. Was this some sort of nightmare? “Oh Sor-”


Before he could finish his second apology within sixty seconds, someone with a round serving tray bonked him over the head. “Oy! No funny business!” the spirited waitress admonished him. Carter looked from Elliot’s knees to the server behind him, wondering how this date had gotten out of hand so quickly.

Elliot startled back again, and even yelped this time when Carter came crashing down towards her. Her surprise was immediately replaced with concern as she was about to rise out of her seat to help him. However, the awkward feeling came back as she glanced to the side quickly and remembered that they were in a rather public place; all this happening made it that much more of an embarrassment.  The witch's face twinged a faint shade of red.

"You're not hurt are you?" she asked tentatively. She then, finally, slipped out of her chair and adjusted her glasses with one hand and reached under his arm and helped to bring him back to his feet with the other. His arm was surprisingly muscular.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Elliot said. "Try and clean up the mess, I mean." There was a brief pause. "Thank you for trying, though." Elliot continued to feel awkward standing about while everyone else was comfortably seated. She bit and chewed her lip, while the red shade to her face intensified ever so slightly. "How about we move to another table? Or to the bar?" she asked quickly, wanting to remove the awkward feeling just as quickly and get them seated somewhere again.

Or even just leave, she thought. She could only guess how embarrassed Carter himself was feeling right now. He was either surprisingly clumsy, was having a stroke of bad luck, or both. Though part of her did want to leave and return the comfort zone of her apartment, she'd then feel guilty towards Carter. Although she had only just met this wizard she wasn't going to up and disappear...not like he did.