Post by Nathan Landry on Nov 1, 2014 9:12:38 GMT -8
Nathan couldn't decide. He stood in front of a truly impressive array of costumes that had been replicated and as quickly abandoned, knowing without a doubt that recycling them all back was going to be a chore and having exactly zero desire to actually start the chore. Then he'd have to decide which one he wanted to wear.
Really, though, she should have told him what she was going to wear. Wasn't that the rule, when you went with somebody? You coordinated, right?
He didn't know, because he'd never done this before. It was maddeningly unfamiliar territory. After all, he'd not celebrated Halloween at all since...well, since he'd last been with his parents for a Halloween and given the fact that that had been when he was about eleven...yes, he would've been on the station last time he'd bothered to dress up. They'd gone trick or treating, even, to the shops and then to a few friends' quarters, where he (as one of the few lucky children on board) had been loaded down with an impressive hoard of sugary treats that, in retrospect, had likely not been half as attractive as he'd found them.
So forget ever going to a costume party with another adult. That had never happened. Especially not an adult...like this. Never.
And he definitely wasn't nervous. Maybe a little. Probably a lot. A lot nervous.
And would she really care what he wore, really and truly? Probably. And if she'd just told him what she was planning to wear....
Groaning, Nathan plunged a hand into the pile at random and pulled out the first article his fingers closed on. A green tunic. Alright then.
Fifteen minutes later, arrayed in green and brown with a stylistic bow hooked across his back, Nathan tumbled out of his quarters, already deciding he'd recycle all the costumes later. He had a date to pick up. An actual, legitimate, womanly date.
Precisely two minutes and three seconds later, he pushed his thumb against the buzzer on her door, counting the seconds until she opened it. Maybe she wasn't ready yet. Sure, she'd said 1900. 1900 didn't exactly always mean 1900, did it? Once again, he didn't know. You didn't have to worry about that when you picked women up in bars; it just sort of happened when it happened.
At the moment, his heartiest prayer was simply that she would be as nervous as he was.
Tag: Lt. Commander Alyssa Jenison
Really, though, she should have told him what she was going to wear. Wasn't that the rule, when you went with somebody? You coordinated, right?
He didn't know, because he'd never done this before. It was maddeningly unfamiliar territory. After all, he'd not celebrated Halloween at all since...well, since he'd last been with his parents for a Halloween and given the fact that that had been when he was about eleven...yes, he would've been on the station last time he'd bothered to dress up. They'd gone trick or treating, even, to the shops and then to a few friends' quarters, where he (as one of the few lucky children on board) had been loaded down with an impressive hoard of sugary treats that, in retrospect, had likely not been half as attractive as he'd found them.
So forget ever going to a costume party with another adult. That had never happened. Especially not an adult...like this. Never.
And he definitely wasn't nervous. Maybe a little. Probably a lot. A lot nervous.
And would she really care what he wore, really and truly? Probably. And if she'd just told him what she was planning to wear....
Groaning, Nathan plunged a hand into the pile at random and pulled out the first article his fingers closed on. A green tunic. Alright then.
Fifteen minutes later, arrayed in green and brown with a stylistic bow hooked across his back, Nathan tumbled out of his quarters, already deciding he'd recycle all the costumes later. He had a date to pick up. An actual, legitimate, womanly date.
Precisely two minutes and three seconds later, he pushed his thumb against the buzzer on her door, counting the seconds until she opened it. Maybe she wasn't ready yet. Sure, she'd said 1900. 1900 didn't exactly always mean 1900, did it? Once again, he didn't know. You didn't have to worry about that when you picked women up in bars; it just sort of happened when it happened.
At the moment, his heartiest prayer was simply that she would be as nervous as he was.
Tag: Lt. Commander Alyssa Jenison