fandomhigh | Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

The Danger Shop this week was set up as a go-cart course, complete with complicated turns and loads of tiny little two-seater cars. A set of stands lined the straight away to the finish line, on which were set up a couple tables full of classic comfort food. Eliot stood by the cars, a checkered flag sticking out of his back pocket, and stared resolutely at the ceiling.

"Hey," he said. "We're doing cars this week." He shrugged. "Creatively."

“Smash them together! Smash them into barriers! Jump each other!” Parker paused. “With the cars! Not your bodies. That is Not Happening Here.”

Which didn’t rule it out happening somewhere else, probably.

“Work out your frustration!”

"Or pair up, pick a car, and park it somewhere," Eliot said. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a shady little make-out point off to the side. "Work out your frustrations that way."

What? It's what teenage him would've done.

"That's making out," he said. "Kissing. Maybe second base. No nudity in class."

“It’s a safety issue,” Parker said very seriously. “Also, it might be gross. We don’t know. And we don’t wanna know.”

Eliot closed his eyes and winced. "That's not -- we know what -- okay, you know what, just -- drive. Or not. Eat food. Or don't. Whatever."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Never. Never never never never never.

Or maybe as soon as class was over. Depended on how long Eliot's self-control held out.

"Why d'you keep askin' me these things? Why don't you ask your actual boyfriend?"

"Hardison says sports metaphors are a terrible metaphor for reasons." That she still wasn't completely clear on. "'Taking the Horde' is the shorthand we use some of the time."

Eliot squeezed his eyes shut. That mental image was going to stick with him.

"Don't tell stuff like that!"

"Why?" She might as well learn something new today. "Is it inappropriate, or is it uncomfortable?"

"Both!" Eliot shot her an incredulous look, then immediately snapped his eyes back to the ceiling. Were her tops usually that clingy? He really wanted to nibble on her neck. "Especially here!"

"Ohhhh." Eliot also had a nice neck. Well. A nice everything. Parker took a photo of him for Hardison, and sent it with a caption that her boyfriend would understand. (TEN MILLION POINTS ON THE SCAVENGER HUNT.) "So, where would it be comfortable to talk about?"

Back at his place over some really good beer and maybe some chocolate covered strawberries.

"Nowhere. Ever." Eliot was just getting progressively growlier, here. "Ask Sophie about it or something."

Oh, goody, there was another great mental image that was never going to go away.

"You're sure she'd know? She's English. Or ... whatever." Parker was still slightly unclear on that, and had a sneaking suspicion that Sophie had forgotten what her original accent was. "Do they even have bases?" She paused, struck by something else. "Is this about that song?"

"She'll know." She probably had to use it on at least one mark over the years, after all.

That last bit had Eliot so confused he forgot what he was doing and looked over at Parker again. His hand was halfway up to brushing her hair away from her face before he caught it and stopped himself. "What song?"

That was nice. Parker beamed at him. She'd already told Hardison about... stuff going on this week. Maybe, hopefully, he'd be here soon. To help. And stuff.

"That song. ~All about the base, 'bout the base, no treble. All about the base...~" Parker was on-key, even if the rhythm was all over the place.

Well, at least now Eliot wasn't staring at her just because he wanted to see her naked.

". . . What?"

"You don't know that one? Hunh." A quick text to Hardison. And now Hardison was sending Eliot a copy of the song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk) "It's confusing. I don't get most of that song. But it's bouncy."

Hardison could send Eliot all the songs he wanted. They would never, ever get played. Eliot listened to vinyl, thank you very much.

"It's about fat girls, Parker."

"Still confused." Parker scowled, displeased. "We should go get more food after class and then you can explain what one has to do with the other." Plan!

"Yeah," Eliot said with a sigh. "Okay."

Maybe if she irritated him enough, he'd stop wanting to kiss her.

Creative Problem Solving, Tuesday, period 3

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers

Re: Talk to the teachers