It's Better If You Do

When they apparated onto the sidewalk outside the restaurant, both of them grew slightly uncomfortable, and gave each other covert looks to measure the others reaction. The restaurant not only appeared expensive, but it had a very romantic atmosphere, with the wide windows displaying couples eating over candle light, with the room dim besides that fact. Waiters and waitresses in very formal black and white outfits walked about, filling up the glasses with more wine, and subtle hints at dessert.

Rose have been craving french food, but there was no way she was going to subject the two of them to that kind of pressure, unless he wanted to. Which, she thought glancing back at him, wouldn't be too terrible, but if he didn't want to, she was just fine with getting more fish and chips.

Fred's thoughts were almost along the same line as hers, but a little braver. He didn't want to just chicken out, and take her to get regular food, when they had already decided to eat here. He could make a few laughs about it, and if she liked, it could be a date. But only if she wanted it. He was not about to be forward or anything of the sort, to earn Bellamy's harsh threat.

After they had been standing there for a few minutes, staring up at the restaurant named Chez Gérard, Fred puffed out his chest, told himself to suck it up, and began walking up the steps with her shyly trailing behind.

"We- we don't have to, you know," whispered Rose as the greeter opened the door for them with a welcoming smile. "Bellamy can make me some french food tomorrow-"

"Nonsense. We're already here, and I told you we could eat wherever you liked." Fred said cheerfully, grinning down at her, happily receiving a smile from her in return. Looking around at all the other elegant couples in their formal wear, she glanced down at her casual outfit a bit bashfully as they waited for a waiter to come seat them.

"We're a bit underdressed," she said softly, to which he scoffed loudly, earning a few glares from the customers around them.

"You look perfect," he said matter-of-factly, with a charming smile. She felt her heart swoop a bit at this, like it had when he had stared so intently on her as she had walked down the stairs earlier. Biting her lip against a grin, she noticed the waitress coming over to them was eying Fred in a way that made her stiffen, and nonchalantly put less distance between them.

She was tall, or, medium heighth compared to Rose's small frame, with long black hair that was cut very straight, with a blunt fringe across her forehead and tan skin. Her black and white uniform hugged every one of her curves in a completely unsubtle way, and she had a sway to her hips as she walked, causing men to stare at her as she walked past. She reminded Rose a lot of Fleur. All in all, she made the blonde feel very insignifant and sullen.

"Bonjour! Welcome to Chez Gérard. I'm Monica, and I'll be your wairess tonight, sir. One for dining?" she asked, her wide smile directed only at Fred. Rose ground her teeth together, and had to fight with all her might not to say something very nasty to this woman in french.

Raising her eyebrows slightly, Rose said in the nicest voice she could muster, "Table for two, if you please."

The waitress spared a small glance at her, as if she were a small child, and Rose could have sworn she saw a smirk. "Right this way."

Fred looked down in confusion at Rose and found her seething, and biting the inside of her cheek very hard. True, this woman was rude, but it shouldn't have caused that much of a reaction. He squeezed her hand lightly, and she exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she followed the woman, trying very hard not to be childish and request another waiter.

She led them to a table in the middle of everyone, with no privacy, and turned to Fred with a larger smile than before, when Rose asked sharply, "May we have a booth, please?"

"Why, of course," said the waitress her eyes widening innocently. "I only took you over here because you said table for two."

"Je voudrais pousser un tableau dans le cul, vous femme stupide*," grumbled Rose under her breath as she led them to a booth, where she quickly shoved the candle to the far end of the table. Fred grinned at her, recognizing a few choice words from her sentence. He sat down across from her, wishing he could pull out the book in his pocket and see what all she had said about the woman. The waitress turned to Fred, with her entire back to Rose, and flashed him a flirty smile, and asked, "What would you like to drink, sir?"

"Tea will be fine... What about you, Rosie?" Fred asked after a moment, seeing as how she looked like she was going to kill the waitress with her bare hands, who seemed to have no intention of asking her what she wanted to drink.

"Tea is fine," growled Rose, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, the tops of her cheeks a dull pink like Bellamy's when she got angry. Fred realized with a jolt that she was jealous, and he mashed his lips together, holding back a satisifed smile, and a laugh at how cute Rose looked.

"Alright. Here are your menus, and just wave me over if you need anything," said the waitress sweetly, flashing him a wink.

Rose pursed her lips, glaring at the woman's retreating back and muttered, "La seule chose que vous être nécessaires pour se tenir debout sur la rue et d'agir comme une prostituée**."

"Did you just call her a prostitute?" Fred asked with a wide grin, trying not to collapse into laughter at the small blonde's uncharacteristically hostile behavior.

She blushed, but sat up straighter, the anger making her bold, "Yes, yes I did. Well, I didn't call her a prostitute... To summarize, I said the only thing she'll be needed for is to stand on the street and act like a prostitute."

Snorting with contained laughter, he said, "Remind me not to get on your bad side." Rose exhaled sharply, still angry at the woman for treating her with such indifference and flirting with Fred so openly.

No, they weren't a couple, but it should appear so, since they had been holding hands when they walked in. But what on earth could give that woman the the audacity to ignore her like she did? She knew the answer, and she pressed her lips even tighter together, looking at the handsome ginger boy in front of her.

"Most people don't get on my bad side. But, it's women like her, that think they can just waltz over and take-" she cut off suddenly, looking a bit embaressed. Fred wasn't hers to take. He could easily flirt back with her if he liked. It wasn't her decision.

"Take what, Rosie?" he asked softly, seeing the expressions cross her face quickly, leaving her to look a bit forlorn.

"It's nothing," she muttered, picking up her menu, looking through it quickly, hiding her face. But Fred gently pulled the menu down, his eyes searching her face.

"What is it? Please tell me." he said softly, almost whispering. She peeked a look at him, and quickly looked back down. "Something's upsetting you."

Before Rose could even think about whether or not to answer him, a voice cut in rather loudly, saying gleefully, "Here you are, then! Two teas. Have you decided on what you would like to order, sir?"

"No, we haven't," said Fred in a rather unfriendly tone. "Could you just give us a few minutes?"

The woman blinked at his words, and nodded, "I'll come back then." As she walked off, she looked over at them over her shoulder, her eyebrows knit together. Rose sighed, and said quietly, "You didn't have to make her go away, Fred."

"Unless you're going to order for me, I did." he replied lightly, picking up his own menu. He wasn't paying a bit of attention to it, though. His eyes were darting up to watch her every few seconds, as she flipped through the menu, trying to decide what she wanted. "Anything you'd reccomend?"

She smiled a bit, and said, "It all depends on what you like."

I like you, Fred thought but bit his tongue. "Try me."

"I'm just trying not to break your wallet, at the moment," she muttered, looking at the high prices. He did a double take at one of the steak prices, and whistled through his teeth.

"I'm glad I brought a lot of muggle money," he mumbled to himself. He said in a louder voice, "It doesn't matter. Pick what you want."

"Not likely, Fred," Rose replied, before reading him what she picked: "Filet de saumon; 12.00. Grilled fillet of organic salmon served with watercress-mashed potato and a caper and roasted red pepper butter. That sounds appetizing, and inexpensive."

"Pretty and smart." he teased, causing her to laugh in response. The waitress came back then, and had dropped most of her ridiculous behavior, but still turned to Fred first, and asked, "Have you decided what you'd like to order?"

"Ermmm," he shot a pleading glance at Rose to decide for him; he didn't know anything about french food. She smiled, and rolled her eyes dramatically, though highly amused.

"I'll have the Filet de Saumon and he'll have the Tartiflette." she said, her french coming out stronger as she read the dishes. The waitress nodded, writing it down on her tiny notebook.

"Certainly. Your food should be out shortly." she said politely, walking away swiftly. Rose smirked a bit at the waitress' new tone.

"You sure seemed to have straightened her out," she said quietly, swirling her straw around in her tea. He shrugged, taking a sip of his own tea, nodding to himself at the sweetness of it.

"I don't really care for rude people, or brunettes." Fred said casually, watching her mouth turn up in the corners to a pretty smile and a blush sprinkling over the tops of her cheeks. "I prefer blondes."