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reciprocation |
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So, it's seven and I'm waiting around outside the showers with a stupid blush on my face, trying not to look impatient. Only Kurz out of all the guys could ever spend this long washing his hair. After all the trouble on board Tuatha de Danaan, Tessa gave a lot of us time off while she's being repaired. As luck would have it, today is White Day. I decided to take Kurz up on his offer of dinner. I mean, it's about time we went out and got solidly drunk, after everything that happened. So here I am wearing a glitzy dress the same colour as my eyes and stiletto heels with spaghetti straps that wind around my legs to the knee. All right, so I broke the heels off the shoes. Can you get drunk in stilettos and not break both your ankles? Yeah, I didn't think so. Kurz finally emerges, towel slung over his shoulder and a pair of boots tied around his backpack, just as I'm ready to storm in and drag him out myself, and he freezes the second he sees me. For just a split second, there's a different Kurz Weber standing in front of me, a Kurz Weber with a kinda cute expression of surprise. Then the grin is back and he says, "How much is that kitty in the window?" I toss him a dirty look. "Well, you're paying for dinner. Figured it was about time to redeem my Valentine's Day card." I flick out the message he'd written me between two fingers and his grin widens. "You're taking me up? Woo-hoo!" He does an impromptu boogie - which, again, is kind of cute. "All right, Melissa, give me two minutes. I'll meet you in the hangar?" "Uh... yeah, sure. You'd better not stand me up, blondie." I smirk at him. Kurz gives me a look as though I'm crazy. "In that dress? What do you take me for?" He dashes off, calling back over his shoulder, "Don't answer that!" - - - It was actually a pretty nice dinner. The only time he touched me was when he grabbed my arm and pulled me out onto the dance floor. It was a very brief dance, but he behaved himself. I admit myself to be grudgingly impressed. So, I decide that when we get back to the de Danaan, he'll get a kiss for his efforts. Just a little one on the cheek. Well as luck, or whichever sadistic bastard of a god guards White Day, would have it, I was too drunk to aim properly and I missed his cheek by a few inches. He didn't seem to mind. I have to admit, after a few seconds, I didn't mind much, either. Of course, if I find he's spread it around, I'll kick his ass from here to the north pole. But hell. Happy White Day, blondie. |
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