Though she wasn’t exactly sure how she’d pictured this day going, Claire certainly hadn’t planned on flirting, gaming, and a nice meal out. Or alcohol. Well, maybe for her, but that wouldn’t be until after she was back in her own apartment, an appointment scheduled for some kind of procedure set up. This scenario was much more pleasant than the ones she’d run briefly though her head, and certainly the farthest from anything she’d envisioned.
Smiling slightly at Mohinder, Claire let out a little laugh. “Who doesn’t like sweet things? Like plums.” she said, not intending it as teasing though it certainly came out that way. Claire, actually, didn’t have a huge inclination toward sweets now that she mentioned it, but she wasn’t going to point that out. It would just seem like she was stumbling over her words and she wanted to seem more eloquent than that. There seemed to be enough of that nervous energy coming off the doctor, being taken out on that poor bread stick, for the two of them. It was almost cute when she thought about it, though he could’ve just been the nervous sort in general.
She had been about to find some sort of small talk to kill time while they waited for food when Mohinder brought up something far more relevant, something she was surprised she hadn’t thought to ask before then. Apparently her brain was more interested in dissecting the fun little bits of him. Do I have any odd quirks? she asked herself. Aside from killing people for money and going crazy at the taste of blood? Well… She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, a silent sarcastic question to herself.
“Well, I don’t bring on the zombie apocalypse and I’m not a huge fan of television, so you don’t have to worry on either of those accounts,” she explained, taking one of the offered bread sticks and giving it a cursory examination, “but…I am a light sleeper, if that makes any difference? I can be something of an insomniac, but I’m quiet. Typically I use those unwanted waking hours to read, or toy with my own lab.” She shrugged before smiling again. “But thank you for the consideration with the remote. Do you have any such eccentricities I should be made aware of? In case something were to happen, that is…” Given her own history, she doubted the man could do anything to offend, scare, or surprise her, but there was always the chance.
Picking up her own tiny cup of sake, she couldn’t help but notice the way Mohinder was going through his; at this rate, he’d be drunk before they were halfway through dinner. Entertaining, perhaps, but it might not be his intent, being unfamiliar with the drink. “Oh…um…sake isn’t so much for…for sipping, Mohinder,” she corrected hesitantly. “It’s more like shots than wine.” She held hers up and drained the glass, setting it back on the plate the carafe came on.