Take Two: The Halloween Party

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

There was such a thing as a Depp-esque man?
Mother of...
Russ had to admit, that was a pretty scary thought.
“It’d explain why I keep calling you Sally, as well,” he pointed out. “Could explain a lot. Though, I’m not scared of Terry.”
Lynn’s collie obviously hadn’t been killed by her brother. And, contrary to what he’d thought at the time, Kennedy wasn’t a Carer. He was just a Spy who was apparently scared shítless of his sister’s dog.
“There’s probably more Johnny Depps about the place, if you look. He’s a pretty famous guy.”
In fact, someone was possibly Edward Scissorhands, but if he was, Russ hoped he didn’t see him, after his, er… revelation about the ways you could compare the character to Sally. The idea of explaining that to her wasn’t exactly a thrilling one.
“You look good, too, by the way,” he said, glancing her up and down, unable to stop himself noting the obvious good effects of Lynn’s walking and training on her body. Namely her legs, which were on show in the shorts and heels that she was wearing – so on show that he didn’t feel bad about looking at them. “Nice shoes. I take it that was Carmen’s doing?”

[The Delaney Twins]

And onto question number two about Carmen. Hmmm. It made sense, she supposed. Carmen was beautiful, despite her strange attire. Carmen was the sort of girl men wanted to know more about.
But did she have to be the sort of girl that Russ wanted to know more about?
"You guess correctly," Lynn said, keeping her smile firmly in place and hiding her irritation with herself for being irritated at Carmen. "In fact, this whole shebang is Carmen's doing - my clothes, barring these things," - she gestured at the shoes - " but her doing. And the shoes, while pretty, are also pretty scary. Seriously." She bent over, tilting her leg up a little, and poked at the heel. "I think you could kill a man quite easily with them."
She stood up straight. "Of course, that would be the obvious reason why the stiletto shoe was named after a knife - or was it the other way round? I'm not su-"
And at that moment, the thrashing guitar chords of the previous song (which, naturally, was much too fast for her to dance to) stopped, and segued into considerably slower piano chords.
Considerably slower piano chords that Lynn knew altogether too well.
"Oh, wow," she said, her smile growing even wider than it had already been just from talking to Russ. Not that she forced it to be wider with him, or anything - she was just having fun. "I love this song!" she exclaimed, and then sang along briefly. "Slip inside the eye of your mind... D'you think this song is slow enough to slow dance to? I have been forced to promise that I won't dance to fast songs, but... awk, Christ, I can't listen to Don't Look Back In Anger without wanting to dance to it. Or to sing along, but really, no one needs to hear that."

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

“… or to sing along, but really, no one needs to hear that.”
So she was better at dropping hints than catching them, apparently.
Russ sighed, because, dancing wasn’t something that he liked doing. In fact, he hated it. There wasn’t really any attraction in revolving slowly on a floor to music when you would do better actually listening to the song.
At least it was a familiar one, though.
“Well, other people seem to be,” he said, glancing around the room, before taking her hand and leading her towards the floor. “So, I guess so. Do you want to dance, then?”
And so, Sally can wait, she knows it’s too late…
Russ didn’t really give her the chance to respond before placing the hand that wasn’t holding hers gently on her waist. “So, why do you like the song so much, then, Sally?”

[The Delaney Twins]

It felt surprisingly nice, having him hold her like that. Surpringly, because it was different. She and 'Cardo had been dancing to a few of the slow songs earlier, and he had held her more or less in the exact same way (apparently, his being gay wasn't enough to stop him from being extraordinarily enthusiastic about dancing with her), and that had felt nice enough, she supposed, but not in the same way.
She didn't quite want to think about the way in which it felt nice right now. She'd just enjoy it. That was safe enough, right?
"So, why do you like the song so much, then, Sally?"
She laughed, as they started to sway to the song. "Oh, dàmnation, you've uncovered my deep dark secret!"
And it only took him four months. It wasn't the world record of speed, that was for sure. But she was glad that he hadn't asked her about it. That was usually one of the first questions she was asked by anyone who found out about her dual-naming (not that she considered Sally to be a proper name of hers, but whatever), and she was, to be honest, getting sick of explaining it.
Maybe that was why she didn't mind when he called her by it...
And she didn't mind explaining it now, either. Whatever. Maybe she was in a good mood.
"This song is actually why Kennedy calls me Sally, to be honest. My father is... well, he's sort of a busker. Classy, right? Anyway, this song came out when me and him were pretty small, and it was so successful that my father decided he needed to learn it in order to trick more pedestrians out of their spare change. It was a pretty constant song in my house, and I loved it. So much that I apparently - or so Kennedy would tell you - demanded that everyone start calling me Sally, instead of Lynn.
"I grew out of it fairly quickly; Kennedy, however, did not, and so he never stopped calling me by it. There's pretty much no chance I'm going to be able to get him to stop, now. But it's OK. It just adds weight to my theory that my idiot brother hasn't matured an iota since he was four years old." She smiled sweetly.

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

Well, he hadn’t expected that that was the reason for it. It hadn’t ever occurred to him that the reason for the nickname was a song. And an Oasis song, at that. Christ. The piano chords kept continuing in their progression, merging with the sounds of the guitar; typical 90s Britpop sounds. Still, it was nicer – nicer than he’d expected, this dancing. It felt quite good, actually, revolving and holding Lynn.
That was probably the main attraction there.
"I grew out of it fairly quickly; Kennedy, however, did not, and so he never stopped calling me by it. There's pretty much no chance I'm going to be able to get him to stop, now. But it's OK. It just adds weight to my theory that my idiot brother hasn't matured an iota since he was four years old."
Russ laughed. “Come on, very few people mature past the age of four – and it could be worse. It could have been from something like ‘Mustang Sally’, right?”
And, as he heard those words, he made a resolution to greet her with that song next time he saw her. The look on her face and the probably resultant laugh would be too priceless to miss out on.

[The Delaney Twins]

OK, so this felt better than nice, it felt great. So what? That didn't mean anything. After all, she'd seen Russ without his shirt off, she knew he had good arms. Stop the presses, it felt good to be held by good arms. That didn't mean anything. It was just logic.
Laughter. Again. She didn't feel like she needed to stop herself from laughing excessively now, at least. They'd been dogwalking together for months. Surely if he had a problem with that she'd know by now. "I think I'm going to reserve comment on that one, Russ."
The song was about halfway done, now, she realised. That was weird. Since when did time go so fast?
Not that she was annoyed that the dance was half over. That would be stupid.
They didn't say anything for the rest of the dance. That was weird, for them, wasn't it? Lynn didn't know what that meant. She didn't know why he wasn't speaking, at least.
As for her, she knew exactly why she wasn't speaking, although she wouldn't admit it to herself. Which was hard enough in itself. How did she ignore the speed at which her heart was beating in her throat? It felt like some deranged little ninja was pounding on her neck; it was a little distracting, to say the least.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She didn't think about it. She just kept dancing. Because weird as it was, this feeling, she didn't want it to stop.
But unfortunately, eventually, the song did come to an end. She didn't realise how close it was to the end until "At least, not today" blared across the room, and the drums kicked in, and the guitars faded out, and then it was over.
And she had to let go. Crap.
She did so, took a step back, and smiled up at him. It wasn't her usual grin, just... a smile. The smile of a girl at a boy who just danced with her.
"That was nice," she said, not quite as loudly as she usually spoke.

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

For the rest of the song, they were both silent, each lost in their own thoughts and the slow pulse of the music. Russ was still caught up in her laugh for a while after it, before he got to wishing that he knew why she was staying so quiet. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet. From the morning dogwalks for the past four months – Christ Almighty, it hadn’t been that long, had it?! – Russ knew that one thing that Lynn didn’t do was quiet. She talked over all of the hints. But now, she was silent, lost in her own head.
What was she thinking about that made her so quiet?
But he was quiet too, and he wasn’t too sure why he was keeping his mouth shut either. It was nice, in a way, being able to be quiet in the middle of all the noise all over the room – well, it was a party, there was supposed to be noise, or something had gone badly wrong. And if something went wrong, Kira Norris would explode.
This silence was nice, though. It was nice to hold Lynn like this, rather than her being her usual loud cannonball of energy. It was nice for the skin of their palms to touch without him having magnetised her hand there in the first place...
But the song was over quickly, and she let go, smiling gently at him. It was so different from her usual bright grin that it felt wrong to smile like he usually did back at her.
“That was nice,” she said, quietly – well, quietly for her, anyway.
“That was nice,” Russ agreed, stepping away from the dance floor with her as a new, faster song struck up. And, somehow, once again, his mouth started to talk without his brain being engaged at all.
"Listen, Lynn, what are you doing tomorrow night?"
... fúck.

[The Delaney Twins]

"Listen, Lynn, what are you doing tomorrow night?"
It was weird that her first thought after hearing that was that tonight was actually the first time that Russ and she had ever seen each other in the nighttime. They were usually morning people, were they not?
It was the night thing that made her think that maybe this wasn't as innocent a question as she would have assumed if he'd asked her for any other time.
But she shouldn't assume anything. That would be stupid. He could be asking her to mind Jake, for all she knew. In fact, yeah, that was probably what it was.
"Nothing much, I think," she said brightly, reaching back to fix her ponytail firmly in place. Her stupid plaited ponytail. She was never letting Carmen near her head again. "Why? What do you have in mind?"

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

ooc: Before someone says it, I am aware that I'm over six months late with this .... I am so sorry!

Fúckfúckfúckthatdidnotjustcomeoutofmymouth.
Why the hell wasn’t he born with a mental filter? Surely most normal people had some sort of alarm that went off in their heads before they opened their mouths and said something like that?
Madeleine had told him that there was nothing wrong with actually asking someone out. Apparently that was the normal thing to be done.
But it wasn’t normal for Russ. That never happened. Ever.
And now he had to finish the sentence. There was only a light at one end of the tunnel, now… After all, she could say yes, right…
Aw, God…
“I was thinking I could take you out for dinner?”
Oh, smooth. There was a bloody question mark at the end of that. You'd think he'd never met a girl in his dámn life right about now. You were thinking you’d take her to dinner. That’s not a goddámn question!
See, this is why he never asked people out. Surely, God, surely hints were good if they took away this mortification?

[The Delaney Twins]

"I was thinking I could take you out for dinner?"
The tone of his voice managed to sink in before his words did, and it surprised her. The question, the uncertainty; they sounded alien in his voice. She hadn't heard him sounding like that before, like -
Well, hell, like an actual teenage guy. Lynn didn't know exactly what it was, but Russ had always been a bit too... Russish for that.
And then the meaning of the words hit.
...what?
Lynn wasn't an expert in these matters by any means, but that sounded suspiciously like being asked out. In fact, it sounded suspiciously almost exactly like being asked out.
So the obvious question was: Where on earth had that come from?
This might just have been Lynn, but she'd always sort of assumed that... she didn't know. That something like that wouldn't really be an issue with her and Russ. After all, you only really needed to look at him, didn't you? It wasn't the sort of thing that you just... assumed...
But then, that was what she was doing right now, wasn't it?
It would really be best to make sure before she made an eejit of herself. Of course, she'd have to do it tactfully, but that'd be all right.
She hesitated. "You mean... as friends?" she said slowly. "Or... like a date?"
...well, she wouldn't be putting herself up for any tact awards any time soon, apparently.

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

Aw, hell, no.
He’d thought there was no humanly possible way that he could feel like any more of a twát, but there it was.
“You mean... as friends?" she said, hesitantly. "Or... like a date?”
As friends. Friends. What the hell is wrong with you, Russ?!
You see, this was why he didn’t ask people out! It was so bloody messy. Forgive him, but he liked things to be simple. Simple was good. Simple worked. And simple didn’t leave him feeling like this much of an idiot.
God knew what she thought of him now. Russ never behaved like this. Ever. That needed to be stressed.
For God’s sake, why was he being such a prat? It was just Lynn, she wasn’t going to think him a total wab. Hopefully. He just needed to stop sounding like one.
God, he must really like this girl.
“Like a date,” he said, bringing his voice back to confident level and hoping it made up for the idiocy of the last comment. “If you’re alright with that, obviously.”
Eugh. This was frigging ridiculous, now - it was what squirming on the inside felt like.

[The Delaney Twins]

Oh, Jesus Christ.
So it was as she'd feared. A date. She suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable, and she didn't know why.
Actually, no, that was a lie. She did know why. This whole time she'd been - oh, dear Lord. All those bloody jokes, all that bloody innuendo, that time - Christ Almighty, she'd practically stripped -
And it hadn't just been friends. It hadn't just been friends. That was the part that was making her... freak out, a little bit, right now. She had been behaving the way that she had on the understanding that it wasn't going to go any further, that it was just a joke. Why the hell wouldn't it be? Lynn didn't think she was terrible-looking, or anything, but compared to Russ - You didn't even need words. That just - It just didn't happen. End of.
So what was she going to say now?
What did she want to say?
She'd never thought about this. Or... she didn't know. Maybe she had. A little bit. Maybe - well. OK. She couldn't really not. She got on well with him - really well - and he was very attractive and funny and it sometimes seemed like it would maybe be a good idea but -
But this was still Russ Ford that she was thinking about. And there with the remembrance of his reputation came the remembrance of the fact that this really - it probably wasn't -
Awk, godd@mnit, she didn't want to have to do this.
"Russ..." she said, and she just knew her face was looking as awkward as she sounded, as she felt. "I don't... I don't know. I don't know if that's a, uh... a good idea."

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

Aw, God, how could the warm feeling he'd gotten from the dance have disintegrated into this?
He was nervous. That was disarming, because Russ didn't do nervous. He didn't. And while Madeleine's advice had been just to ask her out, she'd even acknowledged that his main personality trait was "well... confidence. With women... or just being completely cocky, but we can keep things polite, here."
So why the hell was he nervous?
Just wise the hell up, man. Just because you like the girl here is no reason to behave like an idiot.
Lynn looked nervous now. Oh, shít one.
"Russ..."
Right, there had to be a no coming now. No one looked that awkward... it was weird, there were plenty of scenarios or conversations they'd been in before that could have prompted awkwardness, and yet, this... "I don't... I don't know. I don't know if that's a, uh... a good idea."
Crap.
Madeleine fecking Baudelaire, I will kill you.
Oddly enough, his confidence seemed to kick back in at this point... God knew why. Inside, Russ was practically spitting curse words at his own stupidity and with genuine disappointment. But the rest of him felt better now that that was done, and that he didn't have to listen to his mouth getting him into trouble for the rest of the night.
So he grinned. "Hey, no problem. We can leave dinner, then, if you'd rather."

[The Delaney Twins]

And he grinned.
But it didn't really feel... right. That couldn't be a proper grin, could it? If he -
Right. OK. So he had just asked her out. She couldn't quite wrap her head around that, but she'd maybe just accept it for now, because she needed to think about this. So presuming that he had just asked her out - unless she was dreaming - then the obvious supposition to make would be he asked her out because he... well, wanted to go out with her. Weird, but she needed to assume it for now. And he had sounded like he meant it.
And she'd said no, and now he was grinning, so the only thing that she could assume was that the smile wasn't real. It wasn't so outlandish. After all, if anyone knew what it was like to smile when you didn't - when it seemed like -
It was just, the thought of the smile not being real... It scared her. What if it was a case of grinning until he got out of the situation, and then... she didn't know. Never speaking to her again probably being the worst case scenario. A scenario that made her feel like her stomach had just been tossed off the Empire State Building even when she just thought of it.
"If that would be all right," she said numbly, not really thinking about her words. She was going to have to make sure that this would be all right. She had to. If she didn't - she didn't even want to think about what might happen.
"Russ, are we still all right?" she asked after a moment, her words tumblign over each other. "I mean, this..." She looked down at the ground. "I don't want things to - to chan- I mean, to be... weird..."
She trailed off lamely. Good show, Lynn. Really top notch. She'd probably just signed the death certificate of their friendship right there.

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

Right, now he was really kicking himself.
She felt awkward, and she wouldn’t look at him. Probably feeling guilty about it now, too. For God’s sake.
“No,” he said quickly, with an exasperated shake of the head. “Look, seriously, I guess I was just chancing my luck – don’t worry about it. Kay?”
Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to work was it?
Russ Ford, you are a wab. And your bloody cousin isn’t much better!
Come to think of it, this is probably what you get when you take relationship advice from an ex-girlfriend. Idiot.
Lynn seemed nervous now, which was probably why her words had come out in a quick rushed stream, with phrases breaking up mid-word. Lynn didn't get embarrassed or nervous. He'd never heard her trip up on her words before, so now all he'd suceeded in doing was scundering them both.
Nicely done.
"Right, it's not going to be awkward. From me, anyway. So you don't want to be awkward, right? Problem solved - no one's awkward," he said, laughing at the ridiculousness of that sentence, before creating an excuse for it. "Ugh, sorry, I'm completely wrecked."
Apparently being mortified makes you lose the ability to make sense - as well as dramatically increasing the level of cussing yourself out inside your own brain. There was a lesson learned, anyway.