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who: Alex Reagan and hopefully you!
what: An open log. There's a couple open prompts but if they don't work just add your own! And don't worry about styles. I'll match em.
when: The month of August.
where: Anywhere you want her to be that's not the mingle, honestly!
warnings: Not that I can think of at the moment.

I.

Despite everything else in her life, Alex Reagan happened to be someone who was a person of habit, and so where she could be found just happened to be habit as well. So, all too often Alex found herself working at The Coffee Shop rather than her office with the substandard coffee and the annoying interns. She was there almost every day with at least one empty cup in front of her, one full one and some sort of pastries there for anyone who might happen to want to stop by and visit, or for anyone whom she had a lunch date with. The table itself was largely taken up with two books and a notebook, along with her phone from home. She inevitably had one of the books open, even though both of them were on the same lines of things, even if vastly different.

Alex would either be reading from a book on learning Spanish and copying what she was learning into the notebook in small and frantic writing, as if her hand couldn't keep up with her brain, because well... That's basically what happened, even in things like this. Still, she was making a real effort to do it, and the book was deeply into, as Alex was hitting the harder parts of the beginner's section and there were lists of words that went along with it.

The second book is much older and still somehow less well-loved than the first one, and Alex had found it in the back of the library shelves. Despite having taken it out days ago, she was still dealing with the beginning pages of it, and if there was something that was guaranteed that would make her grumble, it was this. But still, she was determined to try and teach herself how to read Cruciform even if it killed her, which at this point it honestly just might do. So when someone came up to her, she was all too ready to sit either of them aside, and greeting the other person with a grin, especially if it was someone who she expected.

ii

The other way in which Alex was a creature of habit came with her walking her dog in the afternoon. Alex's pitbull was large and gray and more than a little friendly, which probably made sense considering Alex Reagan was his owner. Her mornings were normally running and rowing, but afternoon walks were more slow and leisurely and normally made by herself. Well, by herself as well as her playing Pokemon Go, even if no one else was. So, yes, she's walking her dog but she's also got her device out to let her know when there just happens to be a pokemon or two in the area that she's walking in.

Normally she collects one or two, and fights at a gym or so, and then goes about her business and comes home. Not today though. Today, Alex just stopped so suddenly that Apo's leash actually snapped taunt for a moment before the gray dog came back to see her, and Alex is just staring at her phone for a second. The dumbed silence only lasts for a second or two before Alex just yells like the child who she can come times be: "Oh my god! It's a Pikachu! It's a Pikachu!" Then without a preamble other than that, Alex just takes off after it, a giant grin on her face. She's never caught one before.

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His brow raises at the amount of food she's provided. There's, a lot, more food than he was certain that they both could eat (depending on the size of the sandwiches). More than likely there would be leftovers and he would be forced to carry the basket back to to the house. Not something he's looking forward to in the slightest.

He walked with her, hand still holding both hers and the basket, wondering exactly how far she was taking him into the woods. He'd entirely expected her to find a spot out in the open where everyone was and plop down unceremoniously. But no, the further they walked, the further back they went. "Are you attempting to recreate our last romantic walk through the woods?"

Alex just laughed at the comment about their last walk in the woods. Well that had been a trip hadn't it? If nothing else it had been a sight to see as Strand had done it in his suit like that was totally normal. Much like today in that way, she thought as she looked up at him with a smirk. "Nope. I'm definitely not hiking that far on a Lizzie day. I'd die. Besides. Scarier things are in the woods than demon cabins and I don't want to be eaten by something."

Her words are teasing and they take a turn on the path into a small clearing with a stream next to it. "This place however is totally safe. I found it when I was doing Pokémon mapping actually."

Alex dropped her normal oversized bag onto the ground before she pulled out an old blanket and spread it on the grass before dropping down on top of it. "Private. Just like I said."

Richard placed the basket (which he was now holding alone for some reason) down and made his way to sit on the blanket. It felt weird. Like something young lovers would do, not someone in his early fifties. Not that he was saying anything against his age, he was fit, after all, that didn't mean that things that seemed created for youth didn't seem, off, when he did them.

"And now I suppose we eat this lunch you've brought." Then what? There was no way he was going to play frisbee or some other stupid picnic game. No matter how much she wanted him to.

Alex is sitting on the blanket and she pulled a bug candle, lighting it with a smirk as she watched him. "Yes, Richard now we eat a picnic. Well dinner I suppose. Don't worry Stan and Simon are good for dinner." Look more planning Richard, aren't you impressed? Let's be honest you probably should be. If nothing else the rather large smirk on Alex's face says so.

And of course she reaches over and opened the top of the picnic hamper, something new that she'd brought obviously and detached the actual glass plates from the top, offer one over to him with real silverware rolled in an actual cloth napkin. Clearly someone had taken that yuppie comment she's made about him in the past quite to heart before she hands him a wrapped sandwich to put on it. Setting her own plate in her lap, Alex rummaged around the basket before she removed the chilled wine and two actual glasses. And a corkscrew before firmly closing the basket before he could look inside.

As she pulls things out, he can't help the brow raise. He's not sure if she's being impressive or being ridiculous. Probably both. He's not actually curious about the contents of the basket, he's sure that whatever is in there is probably something he's not interested in.

"You realize how ridiculous this looks, don't you." He was sure she did.

"Hey, you're the one who has some sort of personal vendetta against red solo cups and paper plates, Richard. So I went out and got the most yuppie picnic basket I could find. Like Williams and Sonoma levels of yuppie." Alex is just going to smirk at him, because honestly if she met someone who actually purchased five hundred dollar picnic baskets, it'd be him. Well, sort of anyway. Like he would actually own a picnic basket.

She did not pay anything even approaching that for this basket, honestly, but hey it looked like she did.

And they were eating coffee shop sandwiches off of china plates. Because that was them, wasn't it?

"You could have just taken plates from the house." Alex would be surprised to know that Richard did, in fact, own a picnic basket. Once. He wouldn't be able to tell you where it is now. Probably sold or thrown out or somewhere under a million forgotten things from the past of a happy husband and father.

Still, he unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully before asking. "Better?" Because really, this was all Alex being Alex rather than anything designed for him.

Alex wouldn't actually have been that surprised, unless he'd still managed to have it. Most people, in her experience, had the basket itself if nothing else. It was part of childhoods and families and all of that. Including romantic times, like Alex was doing it now.

Or at least trying to do now. A grumpy Strand was still a grumpy Strand after all, especially when she was trying to do this for him. So Alex just let out a soft sigh before she took a bite of her own sandwich. "Yes. And I could have grabbed plates but then we wouldn't have a picnic basket for whenever I decide to take on my worst partner title and drag you out to the woods for a picnic."

The words that she spoke were entirely amused, and she just smirked at him and took another bite of her sandwich with gusto, watching him.

"There's, going to be other times?" That was horrifying. Next Alex would try to start cooking and burn the house down, or worse, make him actually eat her cooking. The whole idea of it made his stomach turn a bit and he had to put down his sandwich.

"What brought on this strange want of a Hallmark movie." It just didn't seem like her. Then again this whole actually going on dates situation was new to both of them. They were more of a couple who didn't do anything special in regards to their relationship except exist. Something that Richard appreciated about it.

Alex had done things that Richard Strand considered mortifying no few amount of times during their relationship both working and not. It was part and parcel of who they were. So, she was well aware of what it looked like on his face, and Alex just frowned in puzzled manner when he set his sandwich down. She followed suit, completely not expecting the question.

"I didn't think you even knew what a Hallmark movie was," she said quickly, a reflex lacking any sort of heat, the confusion still evident on her face. "I... didn't have any sort of ulterior motive here, Richard." There was a little bit of hurt mixing with the puzzlement, because she thought that they were past his thinking that she'd have one. "I just ran into Rogue at the waterpark, and it reminded me that I owed you a picnic, and then I saw the basket and thought 'well, maybe this is a sign.'" And before he could say it, she added, "yes, I know. 'There is no such things as signs, Alex. But I just thought it'd be nice to have a proper picnic with just us."

"I never said you had an ulterior motive." He really didn't think that. He was fairly certain that Alex didn't want anything except to spend a picnic with her. While it was odd, it wasn't something to be terribly concerned about. "It's just not something I would expect from you." Which, in and of itself, was odd. Richard knew Alex very well, he almost always knew her next move, but he'd never thought of this one.

"I mean, it was sort of something that I mentioned ages ago, Richard." She just watched him with an amused smirk entirely amused by how he had failed to predict this and how it was bothering him. “I mean I directly told you I was going to do it even if I was being shamelessly flirty at the time.” Which was one way to describe it honestly. Other people would probably use other terms for it but it’s what she had known she was doing at the time.

“I mean I like stories and nights at home reading and date nights at fancy bars.” Like the party she’d dragged him to before. “But sometimes I like things like this too. Just you and me and outside of the house and away from everyone else.” Where they didn’t need to worry about anything but sunburn or mosquitoes. Speaking of that she asked, “do you want sunblock? I mean you’re pale as I am and I didn’t buy you a silly hat.”

Even if she should have here and stuffed it into the basket.

"I don't burn." The comment came without a thought in answer to her last question. Of course, there was the rest of it. Her enjoying the way they were but also wanting to do things like this, things that could easily find themselves in some sappy romantic movie of the week (he assumed they still had those sorts of things)

"And I believe you were actually trying to seduce me into kissing you at the time, not flirting." To be fair, it was flirting, but there was a heavy implication of wanting him to kiss her, and do more at that picnic.

"Those sounds like famous last words, Richard." There was amusement in them, and a promise of an 'I told you so' later on when he did get home and he needed aloe. Or so Alex thought anyway. Because lord knows she'd said that many times and it had only ended up with her in the lobster coloring that they'd talked about before.

A red coloring that crept into her cheeks anyway when he mentioned that. "I wasn't trying to seduce you into kissing me. I just happened to notice how many times your eyes went to my lips like you wanted to kiss me. So I brought it up, because of course I was going to." That said, she does give him a smirk. "But you did come very close to kissing me then more than once."

"Absolutely nothing about that interaction was innocent." There was no way that she could convince him otherwise. Especially as he had been having far more trouble keeping his composure due specifically to her actions. It was seduction, plain and simple and there was no way to convince Richard otherwise.

"Besides, the picnic was just an excuse to suggest we have intercourse outside."

"I didn't say it was innocent. I said you spent a fair amount of time looking at my lips, which you did." Alex has a damned good memory about this, Richard. She'll fight you on it without a single second thought. "But as for having sex outside? Seriously?" The arch of her brow is so high at the moment it might as well have been in her hairline. "Around all of my friends? Jeez, Richard, I may have tried to seduce you at your office but there's definitely limits on things like a public park in broad daylight when there's loads of people I know and wanted to introduce you to around!"

A beat and she added, "besides, you hadn't even kissed me properly on the lips yet and the only touching you were doing was on my side or my hands. Or kissing my hair or my neck, I guess. Seducing you then was going to be impossible." A beat and a smile before she leaned over and kissed him. "Even for me."

"I never said it was at that picnic." She was 100% trying to suggest they have a picnic where they had outdoor sex. She can never convince him otherwise. That was the implication and that was the suggestion. Full Stop.

There was a part of him that wondered if he should tell her just how close she had gotten. How close he was to breaking his own desire to keep from doing anything until she had caught up to him. Still, it seemed as if that information would have only given her ammunition to use later. So instead he suggested something else. "Maybe I should go back to that."

He didn't need to tell her how close she'd gotten. She'd seen it a hundred percent in his face after she'd told him that he'd not seen everything yet. She'd seen it, and then when he retreated, she hadn't pressed any more because she didn't want him to regret the first time that he'd kissed her. Even if she really and honestly wanted to kiss him for damned near a month before she'd gotten her memory back. But he was more important than a kiss, and if he ever brought it up, she'd tell him that.

She never expected him to bring it up. He was Richard Strand after all, and Richard Strand didn't do that.

"You absolutely should not go back to that," she chided quickly, her brow raised again. "That is a completely terrible idea."

The comment only solidified that he should. It would be far too interesting not to, and it would be even more fun to wait for her to realize what he was doing and see what her reaction was.

"Is it?" He reached down and picked up his sandwich, casually chewing on a mouthful.

"Don't even think about it, Richard." She knows that look, Richard. She knows it all too well. That is the look that implies that he's about to torture her in some way and Alex is all too familiar with it. "Seriously. I swear to god, I think half the reason you love me is because it's just so much fun to torture me."

Alex is just going to reach over and take out the chocolate covered strawberries from the picnic basket, and start to eat one, alternating it with wine as she eyed him as if threatening to disagree.

He casually looks into the basket, not saying a word about it as he starts to mentally calculate how long it will take Alex to break and if he should make this a sporadic thing or something more scheduled. Sporadic would probably work best.

He pulls out the scotch. "I don't think this goes very well with the meal."

"Well, that's because it wasn't for the meal," she countered, and she reached over to the basket. "It was for after the meal." And then she added quickly, because she definitely didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "Which does not mean that I intended to seduce you out here, by the way." Because she knew him, and she knew he'd offer that up as evidence. Even if it wasn't. Maybe especially if it wasn't.

Balancing the strawberry awkwardly on her knee while trying to grab the book out of the basket, she knew it was going to leave a mark, but she'd deal with it later. Instead she offered him the book. "I know that you offered to read me the Odyssey during my bedrest time, but I like the Iliad better. So I thought you may read me that."

"So," He smirked, knowing that she expected him to talk about how she was trying to seduce him during this picnic. He knew she wasn't, after all, this was hardly seduction fare. This was part of their normal existence - if that existence allowed Alex to be the cook in the house.

"You want me to read you a bedtime story while drinking scotch." The smirk on his face was amused. Only Alex would think of something like this, and it was just stupid enough to be entertaining.

When he gave her that smirk, she met it with one of her own. After all, she knew that he was going to think it was stupid, because he normally did think a good chunk of her ideas were. But she didn't care, because it was keeping her word that she wasn't trying to seduce him in public, because she told him that she wouldn't when she'd kidnapped him from his office hours.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a bedroom story, Richard," she countered quickly, "besides, I like it when you read to me. And it's a good reading to me spot." Alex just gestured around them, because of how secluded it was, before she picked up her strawberry and finished it with a grin.

There's a small laugh that escapes him, one he hadn't wanted to give way to. Not because he didn't find it amusing, of course, he did, but because it reminded him of reading to Charlie. There was an irony that the woman he'd fallen in love with (who was younger than his grown daughter) was asking him to do the same thing that his grown daughter had asked him to do when she was a child.

"I think you've been reading too much Jane Austin again." At least she hadn't tried to get him to read that. God help him, even if there wasn't one, if she did.