fandomhigh | Detention, Saturday, September 15

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Detention, Saturday, September 15

Barney thought this was a total waste of his time. He could be off with Jo Jo right now getting some sweet early morning action. He posted the Detention List and leaned against the door to wait.

~~Naminé~~
~~Valentine~~
~~Cher~~
~~Pam~~
~~Jenny~~
Eve

"Okay, losers, listen up!" Barney gathered the students just outside the Danger Shop.

"Today you ladies and gentleman will complete several challenges that Robin Sparkles, I mean, Robin Scherbatsky faced when becoming a temporary bro." Well, all but the final challenge.

"Start off by telling me why you're here and then you may enter...THE HALL OF MAN!"

After ~~they signed in~~, he dramatically opened the door to the Danger shop where they were faced with their first challenge.

[ooc: ~~Wait for~~ Massive OCD is up! ~~I'm off to sleep, but shall return!~~ Any questions, ping me in the OOC thread...]
[ETA: Oh, right, and Detention is done at like 3ish]

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"Since when have we ever been cliché, Naminé?" Valentine chuckled a little at the thought. "We can do a picnic and a movie, if that's what you'd like. Oddly enough, the first movie I ever saw, I saw during detention."

A detention where he was not himself due to strange forces of the universe taking him and swapping him with some stupid guy named Jason. Weird.

"Those screens are huge."

Valentine wasn't certain that he'd be able to keep his attention on such a screen. But then, he was pretty certain that dates that involved movies weren't supposed to involve looking at the screen so very much.

"What movie was it?" she asked with a laugh. "Is that normally what happens during detention? I wasn't expecting -- well, anything like this, really. I imagined it would be more writing lines and studying and less smoking a bubblegum cigar."

"I'd only ever been to that one detention before," Valentine admitted. "I think I was supposed to woo the good Irishman at the time, but all either of us really wanted to do was get drunk. There was far more eating popcorn than dating, I believe. I wasn't even paying attention to the movie. But then, I wasn't myself at all that weekend, either."

He considered for a moment more.

"That was an odd weekend. I'd like to think it never happened at all."

"Woo the good Irishman?" Naminé lifted her eyebrow, still laughing. "Is this another tale of your illicit seductions? What Irishman and what happened once you were both drunk?"

Valentine laughed.

"I think everyone in the school was rather out of their minds that week. I've never seen the Irishman again, and there wasn't really any seducing to be done. We both agreed that it was entirely too strange, at the time. So we ate popcorn. I don't think I ever did manage to get drunk that weekend, either..."

He looked upward in thought.

"Come to think of it, I'm pretty certain he still owes me a drink."

"It might be harder to seduce a fellow Irishman, you know," she said airily. "He would be immune to the charms of your accent. But I still think I'd rather you not take him up on that drink."

Valentine grinned at her.

"There's charm in this accent, is there?" This was good news. "Perhaps I shall have to take you for a drink sometime, to make up for the random vanishing Irishman never actually getting drunk with... not-me."

"Didn't you know?" she asked with a laugh. "It's a very devestating accent. Which makes me wonder about my own. It seems oddly cold and clinical to my ears."

She shook her head. "I don't do well, with liquor. It makes me forward and impolite, and then the next morning I'm rather sick."

Oh. Yes. Girlkissing. We are to be not encouraging Naminé to get drunk.

Unless we are around to watch.

"I understand, then," he smiled. "Virgin Caesars and Shirley Temples, then. And my very devastating accent and your entirely less clinical than you might think one."

Perhaps he was biased. Nobody who was that fun to kiss could possibly be cold and clinical.

"Boring, perhaps," she mused. "Certainly not as dashing as yours. But that's neither here nor there. Is it a date, then? And shall we endeavour to not repeat detention next week?"

"It is a date, which brings us to Saturday." Valentine smiled at her. "What did your Saturday consist of? Mine seems to simply read 'hazy midmorning,' you understand."

There was something about the words 'hazy midmorning' and the way he said them that suggested there might be something lingering just behind those purely innocent words that was not so very innocent at all, really.

Flushing, again, as a shiver ran through her. Naminé reached to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and smiled. Bemused. Nervous. Tingling from that low rumble in his voice. Still a bit taken aback by it all.

"Mine used rather more words to reach the same conclusion," she said softly.

"Hm." Valentine sat back and smiled at her for a moment. And then, taking a breath and leaning forward again, he spoke. "I imagine then, that it would be safe to allow our date to run on late into the night. I could lend you another shirt? And we can ... go from there?"

He really didn't have many shirts left to lend. But there were sacrifices that simply had to be made for the sake of certain pretty girls.

Naminé laughed, still nervous. Still uncertain. Still shivering.

"I'm not usually this forward, you know," she said. To the table. Which is where her eyes were, at the moment.

The table was quite interesting. It was a nice table. It was a good table. It was a table upon which sat Valentine's lunch. Valentine really, really did like lunch. Therefore, he liked the table.

But he wasn't looking at it.

He was still smiling at Naminé.

"I'm usually very forward," he countered. "I don't mind if you decide to be, as well."

"And if I don't?" Naminé said. She tried for a smile, but it wavered. "It will be a bit disconcerting, I imagine, for us to plan a rather grand Friday evening date and hazy midmorning thereafter, only to have me discover - at the last possible moment, even - that I'm rather more cautious when it isn't the dead of night."

"If you so happen to discover it," Valentine said after not even a moment's consideration, "there will be other hazy midmornings. Even if it so happens that you don't make that discovery until the last possible moment. I can be patient."

Sometimes. He had his moments.

Naminé shook her head with a slightly bemused smile. "I must be horribly frustrating. One moment I'm racing ahead, and the next I'm hiding behind my own sketchbook. I don't mean to be, you know. It's just that I don't know what I'm doing. Trial and error, perhaps."

"If everyone knew what they were doing, what would be the point of trying at all?" Valentine grinned a little. "Takes all of the novelty out of it, really, I should think. To be honest, I really haven't a clue, myself."

Well, the technical aspects were easy enough. But the rest had half of his brain drooling in a corner and the other half of his brain trying to scurry up a tree to hide. It was a spectacular feeling.

Really, it was.

"I'm willing to go through as many trial runs as you are."

"You haven't a clue?" She raised an eyebrow at that, laughing a bit skeptically. "You're more knowledgeable than I am, I should imagine. At least for the practical aspects, unless you're suddenly claiming to be as much a novice as I am."

He hadn't ever said it outright, but it had been implied, hadn't it?

"Well," Valentine said, suddenly now finding the tabletop to be rather interesting after all, "I wouldn't say that I'm a novice, really. Simply that... There are different ways to--" He made a little gesture with his hands that actually meant nothing at all. "And of course, when you--" He made the same nonsense gesture in reverse. "You have to be careful that it isn't too--" Now it looked somewhat like jazzhands. "Otherwise it's all--" His jazzhands flew into the air. Perhaps the world was ending in pantomime.

"Completely different, you understand."

Naminé stared at Valentine.

"No. I don't understand. I'm afraid I can quite honeslty say I didn't follow the least bit of that."

Valentine wondered briefly if it was the end of the world gesture or the jazzhands that threw her off. That first gesture was absolutely brilliant and she couldn't possibly have misunderstood that. Really.

"Well," he ventured carefully, "I'm simply saying that there's a whole mental state that this involves, I think, that hasn't quite been there before. Same in execution, different in theory, I think. Perhaps. Something."

Oh, look, there were those jazzhands again.

"Oh." Naminé considered for a moment, then nodded. "Right, then. I was meaning the more ... direct aspects. Practicalities. Not so much the mental state. Which I suppose is another sign that I'm a novice, isn't it?"

Why was she feeling calm again, and why was he so flustered?

The fact that she continued to point out how absolutely virginal she was really wasn't helping.

The tabletop was so very interesting and he hadn't eaten much yet and, oh, by the way, they were talking about perhaps having sex on Saturday and it was so bloody casual coming from someone who had never done such things before that Valentine's head was spinning.

He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out, so he filled the empty awkward space with food. Food was always an excellent failsafe.

His single bite of food was now chewed and swallowed, leaving Valentine with a gaping mouth all over again.

"This is going to be a very interesting Saturday," he said at last.

Detention, Saturday, September 15

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