Chapter 21: A New Set, A New Spark: Elisabeth Olsen
The fluorescent lights of the soundstage hummed, a stark contrast to the quiet ache in Adam's chest. It had been a week since Emma. A week of lukewarm coffee, too many internal monologues about the bittersweet nature of life, and the persistent, almost cheerful [Ask Me Out] System pinging in the background like a cosmic dating app notification. He needed a distraction. A change of scenery. And a paycheck that didn't involve analyzing suspicious dust.
So, he'd taken an acting gig. Just an extra, a background character in a period drama, mostly for the novelty and the chance to observe a different kind of chaos. He was dressed in some absurdly tight breeches and a ruffled shirt, trying to look appropriately concerned about a fictional plague.
That's when he saw her. Elisabeth Olsen. Liz. She was standing quietly off to the side, observing the crew, a thoughtful expression on her face. Her presence was different from Emma's. Less polished, more... grounded. A quiet intensity that drew him in.
"Alright, System," Adam thought, feeling the familiar, subtle hum of the [Ask Me Out] ability. "Let's see what you've got for me this time. Not that I'm looking for a rebound, of course. Just… exploring the parameters of my unique existence. For science. And maybe a little personal comfort."
He walked over, a casual, easy smile on his face. "Rough day for fictional peasants, huh? The plague seems particularly aggressive in this take."
Liz looked up, a small, genuine smile lighting her face. "Tell me about it. And the breeches look incredibly uncomfortable. Are you sure you're not secretly a time traveler who just got stuck here?"
Adam chuckled. "If I were, I'd at least bring better snacks. I'm Adam, by the way. Adam Stiels. Your fellow 'concerned villager.'"
"Liz," she replied, extending a hand. Her grip was firm, warm. "Elisabeth Olsen. Nice to meet a fellow sufferer of historical fashion."
They chatted for a few minutes between takes. She was articulate, thoughtful, and possessed a dry wit that perfectly complemented his own. She spoke passionately about the nuances of her character, the challenges of historical accuracy, and the surprisingly mundane realities of Hollywood. Adam found himself genuinely engaged, the lingering sadness from Emma momentarily receding.
Then, as the director called for them to return to their marks, Adam felt the distinct, clear mental [Ask Me Out] ping. It wasn't the novelty of the first time, but a familiar, almost insistent nudge. It was a tool, he realized, but one that could still lead to something real.
"Hey, Liz," Adam said, as they walked back towards the set. "This might be the breeches talking, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a more comfortable setting to discuss the socio-economic impact of fictional plagues. Would you be interested in getting coffee sometime? Or, you know, a drink that doesn't involve powdered wigs?"
Liz laughed, a genuine, unforced sound. "I'd like that, Adam. Very much. And definitely no powdered wigs." She gave him her number, her smile warm.
[Relationship Status Updated: Dating Elisabeth Olsen.][Ask Me Out Ability Status: Inactive.][Status Log: New Relationship Initiated: Elisabeth Olsen.]
Back at the 99th Precinct, the news of Adam's newly single status had spread like wildfire. Jake Peralta, ever the well-meaning but utterly disastrous wingman, immediately pounced.
"Adam! Dude! I heard! You're back on the market! This is awesome! Operation: Stiels Gets Laid is a go!" Jake announced, striking a dramatic pose. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. I've already lined up some prospects. There's my cousin, she's really into true crime podcasts! Or Rosa's friend, who's a competitive eater! You're welcome!"
Adam sighed, rubbing his temples. "Jake, I appreciate the thought, truly. But 'Operation: Stiels Gets Laid' sounds like a terrible 90s direct-to-video comedy. And I'm not looking for a competitive eater. Or anyone who communicates solely through true crime podcast quotes."
Charles Boyle, meanwhile, approached with a hopeful glint in his eye. "Adam! My Aunt Mildred's niece, Esmeralda! She's a passionate artisanal taxidermist! She makes the most beautiful stuffed squirrels! And she's single! It's a perfect match!"
"Charles," Adam said, deadpan, "while I admire Esmeralda's dedication to the preservation of small woodland creatures, I think I'll pass. For now. My dating life does not currently involve taxidermy. Or squirrels."
Amy Santiago, ever practical, offered a more sensible approach. "Adam, if you're looking for someone, I could suggest a few reputable dating apps. Or perhaps a professional matchmaker."
"Thanks, Amy," Adam replied, a genuine smile on his face. "But I think I'll stick to my current method. It's... surprisingly effective. And involves fewer stuffed animals."
"Oh, Jake," Adam thought, watching Jake try to explain the intricacies of a 'cool guy' pose to Terry. "Your heart is in the right place, but your dating advice is a crime against humanity. Good thing the System has my back. And good thing Liz seems genuinely interested. This could be… a different kind of legendary."
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