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nottheflash (nottheflash) wrote in rockthatmeme,

"Oh, I get it, you're already a pro, then." Barry teased a little at her comment with a grin, the hand that wasn't holding his briefcase slipping into his pocket. "Just taking the course for formalities, huh? You've got a good professor here, by the way, Stein is a little rough around the edges but he's a genius. He'll be able to help you out in the professional world if you keep in touch with him, he's got military connections and everything."

He knew he was ranting but he could stop himself, which just made it worse. "And I won't let it get lost, I promise. It depends on your experience and the classes you're taking, but all of the applications have to go through me anyway since the intern will be working in my lab. So maybe we'll be seeing more of each other..." Lame. He almost winced at himself for how lame that was. Barry opened the door for her and moved into the parking lot, stopping when she seemed to be turning to a different direction.

"Hopefully I'll see you soon, miss Martin." He gave her his best attempt at a charming smile, which was actually much more charming than he thought, and he turned to head to his car. She was pretty. But getting hit on by some stranger in a parking lot probably wasn't his she planned to spend her morning. Barry didn't know how to do smooth or spontaneous.

He had stopped on his way home at a pet shop, not having the time to do so on his way to the university, and he picked up a little Kong toy along with a card to scribble down a quick note in his car. He had walked Prada that morning (such a stupid name for a dog) and he usually picked him up a gift when they were out, blatent favoritism, but for now he would just leave it in the mailbox since it wasn't in his time window to enter the home and take Prada for a walk.

'This is for Prada. I had an appointment this morning and didn't have time to stop with him, he was very upset with me, I could tell. If you keep it for yourself he'll tell me, so don't even think about it. Tell him it's from his buddy (he'll understand) and I promise we'll go to the park tomorrow to make up for it. Me and Prada, I mean, not me and you. Sorry, I'd invite you but between you and me he told me he likes guy time. Oh well.'

He had been leaving notes like that for weeks now. He didn't know who Prada's owner was, but the account was under the name 'Natalie', and the few notes he got back on the front door were definitely written by a woman. It was the only pet he did it with, but 'Natalie' seemed to enjoy them (at least, she never called him to complain and he was obligated to leave his number with his clients) and Barry liked writing them. He left the note and the 'I'm Sorry' card in the mailbox before heading home with every intention of enjoying the rest of his day off.