Penrose Shapiro (skinsample) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-07-29 22:51:00 |
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Not too long ago TJ had been in this very same establishment trying to do this very same thing Pen was about to do--except he only managed with limited success. Granted, his motivations had been the free drinks if he won that bet. And while tonight would have been a good time to claim that prize, it was Pen’s turn to have fun, and he promised he would take care of her so she could run wild. Right now she was at the slow jogging stage. Warming up was important, after all. He slid into their booth and replaced her bottle of cider with a mixed drink that Sadie had whipped up for him when he asked for something easy on the tastebuds, so it was probably delicious. “Sooo,” he said over his pop, leaning in closer. He could barely contain his conspiratorial smile as he glanced around. “Anyone catch your eye?” Running wild wasn’t something Pen did often or naturally. As she scoped the room, already warm and loose from her first drink (she’d only had alcohol twice in her life prior to this), she had to pathetically acknowledge that she viewed a lot of these people as her friends and therefore as off limits. She wasn’t a natural flirt, and probably wouldn’t have done this at all if TJ hadn’t suggested being her wingman weeks ago and Evariste hadn’t embarrassed her to the point of wanting to disappear into the earth. It didn’t matter who he pointed out as a suitor for Pen, Gregory or otherwise; the point was he could’ve teased her for being compatible with Betty and she would’ve wanted to die. She took a deep breath and wrapped her hands around her new drink. It was strong, but mostly sweet. A fruity sweet. She liked it. TJ really knew his stuff. She was glad he was the one who came with her tonight. “Um...not yet. How do - how do you know who to approach or what? It isn’t weird? I mean, we know almost everyone and then it’s like...but what if they just want to be friends? People aren’t uncomfortable if they know you’re hitting on them? It feels weird, you know, like it’s some kind of sex angle. People don’t feel devalued?” “Devalued? I don’t think so,” he replied, offering a shrug of his shoulders to really emphasize his guru status here. (At least he was trying.) “I guess if you’re being a creeper and going after people for that one reason, but you’re not. I mean, you’re not, right?” At this he paused to squint at her, before confirming to himself that she was indeed no creeper and nodded to himself. Pen simply sat straighter, wide-eyed, as he squinted. She shook her head, as if personally mortified by the thought. “Why, no…” But she listened with rapt attention. “If you’re actually trying to dip back into the dating pool, then this probably isn’t the best place to snag a fish,” he trailed off, but she didn’t seem too lost on his metaphor, so he continued by switching gears, “It’s a good place to have fun though! You don’t have to think of this as anything serious. The goal tonight is to flirt with someone and have a fun conversation. Maybe two someones. We have all night.” He pointed out, “Plus, it’s easier talking to these people because you already know them. It’s been awhile since you’ve been in here, right? Just try going up to someone and talking to them. I can come with you if you want.” A game plan was good. “A dating pool…” she muttered, taking another sip of her drink. “And I’m the fish out of water.” Not only with Capers, but with dating on the whole. TJ knew the importance of having one’s mind set on a goal, and he was right. This was not a scene for dating. Which she was alright with. Pen just wanted to not feel so meek. This continued to solidify her trust in him. “I can have a fun conversation. I do that, right? All the time already. I’m a wonderful conversationalist.” She swung a hand about while TJ laughed and chimed in with agreement. If there was anything she learned about the loosening up of imbibing, it was that she was far more chatty, which boded well for that conversationalist bit. “But you may be right - by knowing them, I’m better equipped to talk about similar interests. That makes a much better - what drink is this?” She held up the glass, putting it to her nose. “It’s so good. It smells like strawberries.” "No idea," TJ answered, chuckling. "I just ask Sadie for something and she delivers. Looks like you're almost done though." He stood from his seat and jerked his thumb at the bar behind them. "I'll be back. I'm going to grab us another round. In the meantime, remember! Scope out the crowd." The Test Run Gentleman A few drinks down, Pen knew she should do that "scoping" and go forth into the fray and flirtatiously mingle as TJ was setting her up to. But now her tipsy mind was paired with the anxiety of jumping off that diving board. So when TJ was nearly this close to pushing her out of the booth, Noah walked by. And she cried out his name — a giant bubble of a cry — patting the seat oh the booth with free, loose slaps. "Join us! I can practice!" She looked to TJ. "Can't I? Can I practice?" He burst into laughter. A few drinks down and Pen was cute. “Yeah, Noah. Join us and help her practice! We’ve got room,” he added, and scooted down the seat in case he’d rather sit next to him instead. Noah had planned on getting a drink from Capers and retreating back to his room for the night, for some much needed time to himself. As luck would have it, TJ was there. With Pen. Not that he had a problem with her in particular. If he was honest, he was even thankful that she was there to talk Evariste out of his murderous streak. It’s just that he couldn’t say no to TJ. Without getting his drink, he slid into their booth with a sigh, “What exactly are we practicing for?” “Pick-up lines. For flirting.” Pen answered with gusto, whipping out her notebook from what supposed to be a purse, but really just had a wallet and a bunch of pens in it. “I did research! And I’m not sure what’s best. Raunchy? Cheesy? Weird? Classic? For example. The line ‘I don't feel so good, I think I need a shot of penis-illin’. But what if I invert it? ‘You don’t look so good, I can get you some penicillin.’” She took another drink. “Because if you think about it. Not only is penicillin healthier than penis-illin, but I’m Pen. So I’m healthy for you. Right?” TJ shrugged. "I like both," he offered, but then exchanged a look with Noah and immediately backtracked, "I mean, uh, you probably shouldn't use that first one." Noah’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, and then just shook his head when TJ backtracked. “Yeah, maybe not the first one,” He paused, “And I think the second one only works if they already know your name.” This was a terrible idea. “Oh, that’s a good thought.” She wrote down. “If I have to introduce myself and then make the joke, they’ll know I was trying too hard. Now where is one that isn’t vulgar… ‘Are you a candle -’ No. ‘Are you a taxide -’ No, certainly not. Hm…” She flipped the page. “Oh, this one may work, considering the circumstances. ‘I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you’. Easier and more natural to slip in, I expect. Yes?” With a small laugh, TJ turned to Noah and repeated, “I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.” He leaned in, pressing their shoulders together while he waggled his brows, then pulled back to glance at Pen. “That one’s good. I’m going to steal it.” Noah considered the pick up line, one corner of his lip tilting down in consideration. He turned to look at TJ when he crowded into his personal space, and tried not to be amused by his antics. “That’s actually….. not bad,” He said, after a moment. If he was the kind of person who got picked up at bars, that would probably have worked on him. "That's wonderful!" She beamed, scribbling down a check mark. Then to another swallow of her drink. A moment later, a rip-roaring belch burst from her and she covered her mouth immediately. "Well, I never!" TJ just snickered. They'd have to do this more often, and he made a mental note to invite Pen out to the bar more. "I give it a nine," he rated, and looked over at Noah. "Heading out soon?" “Eh, maybe an eight,” Noah chimed in, with an impressed nod. “Yeah, just about,” He replied to TJ, though he never got that drink he came for, “You staying?” "I'm babysitting," he answered, canting his head at Pen. "You should grab something and put it on my tab before you go though, since we're going to be here awhile anyway." "'Babysit —? Mm." She sealed her mouth. It was true. “Nah, I think we still have beer in the fridge,” Noah patted TJ on the shoulder before exiting the booth, “Thanks though, and have fun you two.” "Bye." She waved him off before addressing TJ. "I don't care what Evariste says, he's so nice." He looked away from Noah's retreating back to smile at Pen. "Yeah, he's the best. You, though, you're going to take the drink he declined." TJ pointed to her half-full glass. "So chug that." The Second Gentleman If Pen thought her trial run with Noah was going to lead to some intensification of confidence, she was sorely mistaken. It wasn’t a disaster, but it certainly was a lesson in all the ways one should not begin a conversation, and she took notes in her journal. Because apparently as funny as ‘I’ve got the buns, do you have the hot dog?’ was to her, TJ and Noah both taught her there were more appropriate introductions out there. But still. She might not have been drunk but she wasn’t sober anymore. And whatever she lacked in confidence was suddenly replaced by exuberance. She and TJ spotted Brian about twenty minutes after Noah departed, sitting by the bar. Her eyes lit up and her hand smacked onto TJ’s arm with elation, several more drinks in her system. “Him! I could try -” She grabbed her cane, held it tight. “Do you think? Brian is so sweet and he makes the best food. And his eyes. I mean I’m bringing this thing less as a cane and more as a paddle because you could swim in those things.” "His eyes are pretty dreamy," TJ agreed, and a moment of silence followed as he stroked his chin. Eventually he nodded, grinning as he ushered her out of the booth. "Alright, sure. You're ready to tackle this one, go tell him what you just told me." “What? That worked?” But she allowed herself to be herded, downing the last of her mojito before righting herself, a mild sweep of dizziness putting the brakes on her initial departure. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got this.” Crossing to Brian, she tried her damnedest to look casual, leaning against the bar, propping her head up with her hand. “Your eyes make me glad I have paddles and I wish I could swim.” Brian was enjoying another casual evening, chatting with whoever crossed his paths. He was easygoing like that. Seeing Pen approaching, he was quick to offer her a smile that only faltered slightly at the introduction. What? “Hey, Pen...enjoying your drinks?” Otherwise known as a polite way of asking if she were drunk or really drunk. In her mind, the pick-up line was a roaring success. Clearly he was smitten. If by smitten, that meant he wasn't hopping off his barstool and running. "Absolutely." She managed herself into the stool next to him, and her ambling, courtesy of tipsyness and clanking prosthetics, caused her to rotate slowly in her seat. "I'm spinning." Pen looked down. "Where is the brake?" It would be really hard for anyone to make Brian run away. He preferred to help people, even when they were sloshed enough that they were making bad choices. “Ah, let me help,” he offered, putting a hand on the back of her seat and spinning her back towards him. “Maybe you should have some water.” He gestured to the bartender for two waters. He wasn’t fully processing that Pen was trying to hit on him because she was clearly too tipsy. Meanwhile Pen wasn't fully processing that Brian wasn't processing her motives. And unfortunately for him, he was getting her the drunkest. "Oh my gosh!" She gasped, taking the water. "You bought me a drink!" Pen turned her head to hiss at TJ: "It's working." He shot her a thumbs up in reply, his laugh seen rather than heard over the noisy chatter that filled the bar, and TJ motioned for her to return to their conversation. This wasn’t going to end awkwardly at all. Brian was really concerned by her excited reaction, and he caught the obvious stage whisper and began to put things together. “Pen....are you trying to hit on me?” There was a pause. He called her out on it. And oh no, what now? But she melted into some luxurious, lazy smile, the drinks having worked their charms on her. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not." Pen paused. "Oh. I am though. I actually am." She touched her finger to Brian's nose. "Is it working?" Brian was a nice guy. Pen was a lovely woman. If she weren’t totally tipsy, he probably would have said ‘why the hell not’. But she was. And so he just raised an eyebrow when she poked his nose. “It’s working in so far as I now believe you are hitting on me. What’s put you up to this?” Was she all right? Brian was too protective to be hit on easily, sorry. He went straight to mother hen mode. To be fair, if she were sober and Brian was the intoxicated one, she'd have mother hen'd him to death. As it was, he was going to be the good guy in all of this, and thank God that even when drunk she had a good taste in men. "Nobody? TJ is helping me learn how to flirt! But liquid courage." She shrugged as she took a swig of water. "Have you seen me flirt!? I haven't seen me flirt! I'm twenty-seven years old and when's the last or first time I booped a nose?" A grave shake of her head. "Never. So TJ said I should give it a try. And I decided your nose would be the one I would boop." Brian had to laugh when the full explanation came out. Thank goodness she had good taste in men, indeed, but a little practice flirting? There was no harm in that. “All right, I understand. This may or may not be the totally best way to practice, but I will agree the boop was adorable. The rest of it…” Brian was too nice to say that it was pretty bad. But he hadn’t known she was flirting until she thought she succeeded when he got her a water. He laughed. What a good sign. “...Could maaaaybe use some work?” She pinched her lips together, but her tone indicated she was more delighted than despaired. “So what would you recommend?” She cooed. Somehow. Miraculously. “A little less talk, a little more action?” Pen’s hand found Brian’s knee, which oddly spoke of how restrained she instinctively was, because there was plenty of thigh to grab. He was about to give her actual advice when she put a hand on his knee. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to move away slowly. “Well, that depends on what you’re looking for. Some men would definitely go for that.” He patted her hand. “But I think you can get a ways with a good smile and good conversation.” Although, he was single, so. Maybe he shouldn’t give advice either. “Mmhmm…” She murmured, the pat to her hand clearly (“clearly”) indicative that this was not the direction to take. So she slid her offending appendage back to her own lap, still languidly leaning on her other hand. “Fine, we can talk. I’m the supreme best at conversation. Let’s talk about hmmmmm…” Pen rolled over the many scattered, wavy thoughts in her mind. “What is something you wish you could do that you can’t?” And then the giggle: “I can’t wiggle my toes.” She lifted up her left leg. “It’s really a fine foot, though. Whoa…” Pen rocked a bit in her seat. “You know, these barstools are so high up. If I fell off, I wouldn’t survive the impact. Okay - okay - your turn. What’s a thing that you -? Yes.” Brian might have flailed slightly when Pen rocked in her seat. “Please don’t fall. Then you wouldn’t get to flirt anymore.” And that would be an even worse disaster than her actual attempts at flirting. Right now what he wished were that he could make tipsy people immediately sober. “I, um. I wish I could whistle.” He laughed a little at himself. Of all the things to want. But Pen laughed too, and loudly and happily, as if this was the most wonderful thing in the world. “You know when you pucker,” she formed an O with her lips for a moment “- there - you see, people try to - this seat! - they try to push way too much air out. It’s like language. American people speak out here.” She put her hand in front of her mouth. “And British people speak back here.” She touched her hand to her throat. “So whistling, it’s - you don’t try to American your air so much. You have to British it. Inside your cheeks. The control comes from your chest.” Pen swiveled in her seat to look over at TJ for a moment. “It’s fun.” Once TJ saw Pen leaning forward, lips sticking out in a pout, he decided it was time to intervene. While a kiss wouldn't classify as a Big Deal in his book, it was probably a different story with Pen, and he promised he would keep her from doing anything too crazy. Crazier than what she'd already done, anyway. Within a few moments he had turned their line of conversation into a triangle, except from his angle he had no idea what they'd been talking about. "Hey, Brian. Are you...taking speech lessons from Pen?" One thing Brian learned: Pen knew a lot about speech matters. He felt surreal as she gave him pointers about whistling--relieved that the conversation was moving to a more fun place, but strange all the same--but he tried to pay attention to the tips. Maybe it would work! And then there was TJ, so he leaned back and gave the other man a smile. Good wingperson work, TJ. “That...seems to be what happened. Somehow it’ll help me try to whistle.” Safe, if weird, conversation. If she had more clarity, she might tell them that one of her fathers was a professor of European studies, and one of the odd tidbits he shared with her as a child was the complexities of spoken languages. But this really wasn’t going to translate to conversation, not if she couldn’t even properly inform Brian he had pretty eyes. So she settled for a very happy, satisfied smile as she glanced between them. “I’m so glad everybody’s here. You guys are swell." TJ nodded, exchanging a grin with Brian. "We sure are, you've got good taste, but I think it's time we sat down somewhere closer to the ground." Left to her devices and she'd probably be sprawled out on the floor soon enough. He reached for her hand and helped her stand, then grabbed her glass of water. "Keep at it, Brian. Someday you'll be able to, you know," he trailed off and leaned in closer to gave a low wolf whistle, before he walked Pen back to their booth. The Final Gentleman Best two out of three? TJ and Pen regrouped after Brian, determining that one last hurrah was in order, but only after she waded through the majority of her stupor and settled into something a bit more placid. On top of what she learned from Noah, the notion that she probably tried too hard, considering Brian’s major concern was that she had water, was taken into account. And attemptedly scribbled in her notebook once she was refueled and sufficiently embarrassed. For this last effort, she waited. Drank. A little alcohol, a lot of water. But waited. Until Simon was discovered, and the two of them determined that she had a bevy of similarities to go off of with him, hopefully suggesting that she would be a lot more natural than she had been. So she went for it. And tripped over her own cane trying to take a seat next to him. “Ha.” She tried to recover, scooping her hair out of her face and smiling. “Was that an earthquake or did you just rock my world?” Oh god. No. Instantly no. "Oh," said Simon, surprised to see her coming his way. He offered her a smile, reaching an arm to steady her as she started falling. She recovered, but he still watched her carefully as she took a seat. "Careful there," he said with a rumbling sort of chuckle. But her question caught him off guard and he found that he momentarily lost the grip on his cane. "Er, ah," he said. He tilted his head to the smile, the confused look slipping off his face as he started laughing. "Funny," he said. "I think you're talking to the wrong meta. Got me mixed up with Betty, huh?" Simon put a hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her. "How are you doing?" he asked. “I’m, uh...mortified?” She chuckled, turning briefly to shoot TJ a look of utter horror. “That sounded much better in my head, and my head is, you know, crammed full of endless, useless wit, most of it more app...appropriately delivered when I’m not… um.” Pen bit down on her lip, trying not to ramble as was her wont when even the slightest bit inebriated. With a clearer head, she had more mind to realize this was going poorly already, as opposed to the circus Brian was presented when she had approached him. “Is this weird? I made this weird. I should go.” "Why mortified?" he said, confused. "It's fine." He didn't really think that Pen was trying to hit on him, but what she said made him start to wonder. He laughed a little awkwardly. "No, it's fine. You're fine. Are you… drinking?" He hoped it wasn't an offensive question. "I mean, you're not--What?" He took a sip of his beer as he studied her. She remain seated, anxiously sitting up straight and thrumming her fingers on the table, until he asked if she was drinking, which she then threw TJ under the bus by immediately pointing at him. “Cider, mojito, Kokomo Joe, Sex on the Beach, and something that smelled like strawberries. I have to ask Sadie what it was, because it was amazing. But…” A deep sigh. “Oh my gosh, I’m dizzy. TJ is helping me learn how to mingle. Flirtatiously. Because I don’t? And, I mean, you’re here and you’re not a mean person and I thought you could be, I don’t know...practice?” And then she leaned in and whispered, as if TJ could hear her through all of this. “Actually, I’m supposed to really be hitting on you, but this is freaking me out and please don’t think I’m losing my mind.” Simon glanced at TJ, eyebrow raised as he realized that he was involved somehow. "Ah, I think that might be a few too many drinks," he said, patting her hand. He listened to Pen explain what was going on. He wasn't sure if he should lecture TJ or not. It wasn't like Simon hadn't gotten plenty of girls hitting on him in his youth. It had just been some time. He laughed a little, looking down at the table. "I… Am a little surprised, to be honest. You shouldn't be freaked out to be hitting on me. I’m harmless, right?" he said, hoping it was funny. He didn't really know what to say. "Don't be freaked out. Have you never hit on anyone?" “I know, but don’t worry. Brian gave me water when I tried to hit on him. You’d have gotten me much worse.” She laughed, but it almost felt silly. Pen still felt unnaturally loose, and to a point it was grand because she was usually so tense, but she felt off. “But no! You’re good. You’re safe. Which is why I picked you. If I’m going to practice on guys, they’ve got to be guys I feel safe with. You’d be honest with me. Because I haven’t really ever tried - actively tried - flirting. I’m very…” There was a sudden twist of embarrassment, and she tried her best to snuff it by pulling out her notebook. “Pick-up lines. Mutual topics. Off limits topics. When to appropriately insert sexual innuendos. And…” Doodled male genitalia, but the penis sported a horizontal line and some numbers on it, so that it looked like a medicine capsule. “I… oh! Penis-illin. ...I don’t remember drawing this.” He felt a little overwhelmed by the cadence of her words, but he just kept nodding and smiling. "Right, safe," he said. Maybe that was why he wasn't getting the level of romantic attention he had hoped for. Safe. Well, there were worse things. "I will be honest with you, that's fine. You can flirt at me all you like. Just promise me one thing…" He grinned at her, making sure that she would know he was joking. "You can't fall in love with me." He tried to get a good view of the notebook, pursing his lips when he saw the genitalia. "Interesting notes you have there…" Pen laughed, perhaps longer than was really necessary, but some things were much more amusing with alcohol in one's veins. It was a shame he didn't understand that 'safe' was a huge compliment on her part, because safety implied trust, and she trusted so rarely. But, under more sober circumstances, she could have see why it wasn't the best attributing reason. "Oh gosh, we'll turn into a Nicholas Sparks novel." As for the genitals, she had the decency to blush, the pitch of her voice rising. "What? It's a visual pun - don't look at me like that!" She closed the notebook, biting her lip. "So, flirting. What, uh, what do you like? What do men find that works?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not looking at you like anything," he said. "I think it's funny. A little crass, maybe…" But it was obvious he didn't think anything was wrong with it. Simon had to think for a moment. Things came to mind automatically but he wanted to be sure he filtered what he had to say. "Personal space is a big thing," he said. "If you're interested in someone you can show it by getting a little in their space. If they reciprocate then you can touch their arm or shoulder. At that point almost anything you say will be taken as flirting, but in a good way. Just don't talk about penis-illin," he said with a grin. "Might ruin the mood." "Oh." She grinned, but bobbed a bit in her seat. "Three out of three, it's a no on the penis-illin. That's good to know." She nodded. "But okay. Touching, I can do that.” Well, maybe she really did flirt with Brian, then, because the palm of her hand still felt like his jeans. “That's actually really harmless and less...complicated than trying to tell you that you rock my world after nearly falling on my face. So..." She gingerly reached out and put her hand on his. It was soft, she turned pink, and she pulled back. "Don't force it, right? It has to be...natural." "Yeah, and a little more tried and true," he said. He nodded slowly at her attempt. "Or on the shoulder or arm," he said. "Personally, I think that can be a good first step. Gives you a reason to lean in." He demonstrated, leaning a little more into her personal space after touching her shoulder gently. Heat. Heat in the cheeks. Flushing. Wide eyes, parted lips, still as a statue, but: "Wow." She soaked in the moment for as long as her nerves let her. And then: "You know, I - I really have to pee like a racehorse. You know, because they - they pee while they run - it's a - fun fact. I -" She fumbled for her cane. "And I've had so much to drink - so." Pen fumbled out of her seat, dizzy and disoriented, trying to appear utterly calm when Simon had been so sweet and patient. "Oh - uh. Please don't tell anybody you saw my penis." Simon leaned back when she reacted so strongly. He was confused, but not in a bad sort of way. He scratched the back of his head at her wow. He tried to think of something to say as she got ready to leave. "You're--Okay, well, uh," Good luck with that? Probably not the right thing to say. He had not, in fact, known horses peed when they ran. But that was not really the important thing going on here. "Steady," he said quickly. "Er, no. Your penis is safe with me." That wasn't the right thing to say, but he didn't know what else to add. Her pause was jittery, but she managed a solid, grateful, and apologetic look to him, an act of some clarity and regret. “Thank you.” And then, by the grace of her powers, knew exactly which direction the bathrooms were and darted towards them. Five minutes later, she emerged drained of liquid and energy, finding TJ waiting nearby. “I think I’ve...learned the hard way.” She admitted, smiling weakly. “I was terrible, wasn’t I.” His arm was offered, and when she managed to link their arms on her fourth try TJ began leading them out of the bar. "Yep! That was pretty bad," he remarked, but his brutal honesty held no venom. "It could've gone better, it could've gone worse. Who cares, but it looked like you were having fun. I can't talk for the other guys, but I thought you were cute," and at this he directed a smile at her. "You're a real catch, Pen." Their journey to the door was slow and meandering, but eventually he helped her through it and they were out. It wasn't the same as stepping into the chilly night air, but the bar got stuffy when it was busy and this still came as a mild relief. He pushed the bangs clinging to her forehead and chuckled. "Just don't rush into it again or uh, this might happen. We did say just flirting and not coming right out with the penis line," he playfully chastised. Now that Pen was in the denouement of her alcohol extravaganza story, she was a bit sick in the stomach and tired, hobbling along as TJ led her away. With the sights, sounds, and smells of Capers left behind them, she felt a bit more able to breathe, and although she was still foggy, she listened. TJ was right; it was pretty messy. But she wouldn’t say it wasn’t successful. She scoffed lightly at his compliment, but her small smile indicating she appreciated it. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be doing this again for a long time. Or...without much more water. And pacing, I think.” That was the problem with reacting so strongly, as she had when Evariste teased her the other day. Instead of trying something new, she missed the mark entirely, and acted completely unlike herself. Though she wasn’t going to tell Evariste about this one, she had to admit - she had fun. Simon and Noah and Brian, she really was lucky to know such amazing, patient men. “But, you know, aside from the...booping, and the belching, and the pick-up lines - you’re right, nobody really liked that one - or the picture - it was very, ah...informative? I learned a lot.” She sighed as she saw the elevators, but she slipped another smile to TJ. As zany as a night this was, he’d been the best and she couldn’t thank him enough for supporting her through it. There was a reason why she couldn’t have thought of anyone better to try this with. “I’m going to hate this part. Tell me, guru. Am I going to have a hangover?” He grimaced and patted her on the shoulder as the doors chimed open. She was going to need every bit of comfort she could get. "Better have a bottle of water ready tomorrow," he admitted eventually. "Or better yet, try not to wake up in the morning." |