Nico Chambers (cc_nico) wrote in charing_cross, @ 2009-06-20 01:25:00 |
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Given the math of the situation, 'no Star Wars' (as Charity had phrased it) encompassed far more choices than the other side of the argument did. And, with that, it should logically have been easier to waltz over to the wall of DVDs and pick something out that wasn't Star Wars. Aha, ha, ha. Right. Nico leaned his head against the shelf's sideboard, eyes narrowed at the titles, only thinking of just how easy it wasn't. For one, there was the replay effect: in most films' cases, there needed to be a wait for a decent length of time until the next viewing. Whatever it took to forget enough of the plot, really. That crossed a couple dozen choices off. Then, there was trying to find something that wouldn't have Charity look over ten minutes in with an expression that quite plainly asked 'what the hell is this?' A few full rows were eliminated. Romantic comedies were out automatically, no reasons needed to explain why. Then again, he kept those out of sight. Pride and all. Eventually, it had come down to Bourne Identity and Ocean's Eleven with the latter being swiped off the shelf after some careful comparison. Actually, it was more that while both had Matt Damon, one also included George Clooney and Brad Pitt. Charity couldn't argue with that line-up, even if she turned out to hate the film itself. Nico tossed the case over onto his sofa with a sense of victory. Charity knew that she shouldn't begrudge Neil his date; if it had been her with a date, she easily would have baulked on hanging with her brother and best mate. But she knew that she hated it when Neil went out with other girls, and not just because it meant that her schedule was out of whack. Of course, disruption was a Big Deal, but there was something beneath it all that she refused to acknowledge. A bigger picture that drove her internally mental. Denial was an ugly, ugly thing. Despite Neil's protesting that the Armani shoes and blue pinstripe shirt were too much for a simple dinner-and-drinks date, she'd set them out on his bed anyway, then plopped a pair of jeans that she knew for a fact made his butt look fantastic. However, she was long gone before he got home. Charity didn't particularly want to see his excited face or know what he'd been planning for his date, knowing that her confusing disapproval might dampen his spirits. Might be best if she hung out at Nico's until he literally booted her out, just in case... After grabbing the dogs, she took them around the block for a walk on the way to pick up the food (Ergh! Chinese! Twice in two weeks!). Considering herself frumpy in jeans too expensive to really be called jeans, a casual halter top, and a pair of flat sandals, she jogged up the stairs to the apartment building and headed to Nico's. It took some juggling to ring the bell, but she managed it. The bell would ring the moment he felt it safe to kick back on the sofa. It was some law of the universe about being asked to get up the moment something approaching comfortable was reached. Sighing if only because it made him feel better to do so, Nico pulled his feet off the coffee table and made his way over to the door. A little warning would've been great, in retrospect. 'Oh, by the way, I'm bringing the dogs.' That was all Charity had to say. Instead, it was left to discovery as the first thing that bolted through before he'd properly gotten the door open was the snout of a Dalmatian, followed by the rest of the dog -- and before he could react, Manny panting directly in his face. Pure reflex had Nico stumble back a bit, but he recovered just enough to catch the door from swinging too quickly outward. Of course, that meant leaning in and letting Manny heave dog breath onto his glasses, which fogged up in seconds. "Augh," was the most Nico could think up in reply. "What are you grumbling about?" Charity asked, twisting her wrist around the leash and pulling Manny from attacking Nico's face. Sometimes she thought that Nico secretly liked the attention Manny gave him. It was definitely more action than he'd been getting lately. "I brought more food than even you can possibly eat. All loaded with grease and starch." Max, on the contrary, was much more subdued at the moment, taking the opportunity to sniff Nico's leg before plopping his furry butt on the floor and sticking out his tongue. That one down-turned ear always made him seem like he was perpetually curious about something. "Hope you don't mind that I brought the dogs; with Neil gone... I didn't really want to leave them home alone." He was about to retort, but when food entered the picture, it was instant forgiveness in Nico's book. There wasn't any grudge -- realistically limited, of course, to the types that weren't federal crimes -- that he wouldn't drop for take-away. "Grumbling? I think it was Max." Max, having heard his name, perked up slightly. "See? Guilty face. Definitely him," Nico concluded as he pulled his glasses off, polishing the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. Manny received a side glance, as well, before Nico gave the full trio a shrug. "As long as no one uses Boba as a bathroom -- nope, don't mind." "They're house-trained, you git. Besides, I just took them for a walk." Charity stuck her tongue out at her brother, marveling at how she always reverted to childhood whenever she was around him. For Merlin's sake, she was nearing twenty-five! Once inside, Charity used the flat of her sandal to close the door behind her. Passing off the bags of food to Nico, she squatted down to unlatch leashes. Max had a hard time containing his excitement and licked her clear across the face. "Right then. I asked for that by stooping to his level." Nico, being a true sport and always up to the game, squinted one eye and stuck his tongue out in return. "Who says I was talking about them?" he asked over his shoulder as he towed the bags to where the telly was. With a foot, he hooked the coffee table just a bit farther from the sofa before placing the lot down. Naturally, he was too far away and around the corner when Max had struck, but leaning out into the short corridor attaching the rooms gave him a glimpse of his sister wiping her face. One guess was all it took to sort out what had happened, and a smirk had taken shape on Nico's lips. "Good dog, Max," he told the guilty party, flipping a thumbs-up. "Oh, ha ha, Nicolaus," she replied sarcastically. She'd have given him a two-fingered salute if she wasn't trying to take the high -- er higher -- road. On second thought, she thought what the hell; she'd already stuck her tongue out. "Why is it that I suddenly feel like I'm fourteen whenever I'm around you?" Charity asked upon straightening up, letting the dogs run forth. They immediately began to sniff every corner, running from spot to spot. Neither dog went anywhere near Boba Fett, steering clear with their tails down any time they had to skirt around him. "Ergh, so what did you rent?" "Ha!" Nico agreed, beaming if only to drive Charity that much further up the wall. Still, he couldn't hide a small cringe at the use of his full name. She knew that bothered him, and yet she needled and needled with it; as much as he knew how to tease her, it definitely went both ways. Then again, if it didn't, odds are the whole routine would get dull right quick. That just wouldn't do. He shrugged at her first question, assuming she didn't really want an answer -- not that he had one for her, come to think of it. "Didn't rent out. Ocean's Eleven. No whinging, either. You'll like it." "What's it about? Oh, wait, I think I --" she started, clearly not taking Nico's advice that she'd like it. She plopped down on the sofa, snatching the video to get a better look at it. After she'd read the back, she frowned and looked at Nico, clearly suspicious. This was the type of film she'd watch. "All right. What have you done with my brother? I've been wanting to see this, never mind the fact that Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, and George Clooney are all in the same film. Blimey, I'd watch this just for the visuals." Nico took the moment to roll his eyes as Charity occupied her attention with the box. Of course she had to investigate. Couldn't just take his word for it that he might be able to pick out something his twin sister would like. "And here I thought it would've been Carl Reiner that sealed the deal," he replied, tone all of a forced earnest manner. "Not that he's as pretty as Brad Pitt is on the visual level, but -- you know." Charity snorted, tossing the plastic box in his direction. Leaning down, she pulled off her shoes and slid them just under Nico's couch so that the dogs couldn't lie down on them or slobber on them. She tucked her feet under her and settled in. "All right, let's get this shin-dig started." |