The Blue Squid, Baltimore, Thursday Night

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Anders had chosen this bar carefully. He wanted one where there would be a minimal chance Kathy would feel compelled to break up a fight, which left Pogue Mahone and anything in its neighborhood off the table. (Anders was a bit sad he couldn't introduce her to the wonders of potato nachos.) The place he brought her to instead was larger and bright inside, with countless TVs showing the playoffs for something or other. But it was clean, and the waiters seemed inclined to leave them alone, and that was enough.

"So," he asked Kathy, once they'd claimed their booth, "how do you want to start this? Beer's traditional, but we could get something stronger if you just want to get drunk fast."

[OOC: For one. NFB due to distance.]

Comments

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"You are no fun," Kathy said, pouting at him. "I suppose then I'll just have to settle for getting drunk enough for a bad life decision or two, but without actually passing out. In public. Which is ordinarily exactly the kind of thing I go for."

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"Of course. It's exactly what you do every night and twice on Sundays," Anders said seriously, and reached for the pink-and-green drink newly in front of him. "That's how you get such good grades, isn't it?"

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"Like there's any other way!" Kathy scoffed, leaning forward and taking a sip of her drink. "Oooh, this is delicious! But yes! You study while you drink, and you drink until you pass out, and altogether that leads to a whole lot of studying, see?" She took another long sip, because it really was quite good. "Of course, you remember things better when you're in the same state as when you learned it, so you have to get drunk again before you're tested on that knowledge."

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"Really," Anders said, leaning across the table toward her with sparkling eyes. "I haven't heard that theory before. It's fascinating. Tell me more."

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"Thinking of becoming an academic now, are you?" Kathy asked, laughing. "Obviously, certain beverages are better for different subjects. And if you need to study a lot, stick to beer. It'll take longer for you to pass out and therefore, you'll get more studying done!"

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"I knew I could learn something from you," Anders laughed in return. "See, this has been a worthwhile evening already. How's the mojito?"

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"Everybody knows that if you need to learn about drinking, you should talk to Kathy," she said, airily waving a hand. "And if the mojito wasn't cold enough I'd worry about a headache, it would probably be gone already. It's that good." Drawing rings in the condensation on the glass, she added, "What do you normally drink? Beer? Ale? Is there a difference?"

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"I'm sure there is one, but I don't know what it is," Anders admitted. "At home I pretty much drank whatever I could get. Never asked too many questions about what was in what. But yes, I like beer."

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"I mean, I haven't tried it in years," Kathy admitted, "but I remember trying some of my dad's when I was younger. Sarah dared me to. And it tasted terrible, ugh. Give me sweet drinks that taste like fruit and candy."

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"I don't think anybody likes beer at first," Anders told her. "You just get used to it. Or you drink things that taste like candy, which works just fine."

He sipped his mojito, glanced over at her. "So ... not to put you on the spot, but what's going on with you and Dante?"

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Luckily for Kathy, she'd mostly swallowed by the time she processed Anders' question, so she managed to avoid choking though she did sputter a bit. "What's going on?" she repeated, managing not to cough. "What makes you ask?"

Which wasn't exactly a 'nothing.'

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"Every time I listen to radio there's something about the two of you," Anders answered. "I wanted to know if I'd need to kill him in his sleep."

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Kathy laughed. "The question is which answer is going to lead to possible murder," she said, finishing off her first drink. "But right now, not a whole lot beyond flirting. He's made offers, but I'm..." She shrugged. "I'm not exactly prone to jumping into bed with people. Not right away, anyway."

She looked at him, still amused. "Gonna kill him if he hurts my feelings?"

Best friends.

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"Depends on how nicely you ask and how hard it would be to hide the body," Anders said, but now he was clearly joking. "But probably not. Though I reserve the right to dump stinkweed potion all over his clothes."

Best friends!

"He does seem like he's good at flirting, I'll give him that much."

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"That you'd be willing to use stinkweed on your roommate says so much about how much you care," Kathy told him, beaming. "But I don't think that'll be necessary? Even if we do hook up, I can't really expect anything more from him than I would, say, Ezra. They're both pretty, and good at what they do, but not exactly boyfriend material."

She wouldn't mind having a boyfriend, but she wouldn't find one in either of them, most likely.

"And one of the first things I told him was that he had to respect me this much to ride this ride," she continued, holding her hand up to her temple. "So I doubt that that'll be a problem, either."

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"Well, I'd stay with Nathan until he'd showered off the stinkweed," said Anders, whose willingness to sacrifice only went so far. He gestured for the waitress to bring over two more mojitos, giving Kathy a curious look as he did. "But sorry, you lost me. What does respect have to do with it?"

When Anders was in love he was almost absurdly faithful. When he wasn't, he ... wasn't.

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Kathy just sighed, amused. She wasn't sure if no one understood her or if she just made friends with boys with loose morals. "I don't want to be another notch in someone's bedpost," she explained. "If I'm going to sleep with someone, I want them to be sleeping with me. Not just some girl, but me."

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Boys with loose morals made the best friends.

"I don't know," Anders said dubiously. "It's a sweet notion, but it seems like a good way to end up horribly disappointed if things aren't perfect when you finally make it to bed. Or to get your heart broken."

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It was true, they did! And they gave Kathy the best advice.

"I'd rather be friends with the people I sleep with," Kathy said. "I don't want to end an encounter feeling used or feeling like I used someone to get off. If we're friends, then I already know what we are and won't try to make it into something it's not." She shrugged and started her second drink. "It's worked so far? For that whole...one...person it's worked on."

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"One's more than zero," Anders said, encouragingly. "All right, but hypothetically, say your favorite actor walked over to the table, and was gorgeous and funny and smart and charming, and then he said, 'Kathy, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I want to take you to my penthouse and have my way with you.' You'd say no just because you didn't spend an arbitrary amount of time talking about childhood pets first?"

He was enough of a romantic to understand waiting for love. He was still trying to wrap his head around Kathy's position.

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"Well, that's different," Kathy said. "That's, like, a once in a lifetime thing. If Tom Hiddleston walked up to me and offered me a night of passion, I'd be an idiot to pass that up. But guys at school--I can take the time and make sure they're not assholes first."

She looked up at him from under her lashes. "Why? Are you trying to convince me to sleep with Dante?"

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"Hardly, just trying to see where you're drawing lines," Anders told her. "But if you do, would you tell me how he is? I'm curious."

Bad thought, Anders, bad thought. He blinked and tried again.

"That is -- would you at least do it in your room?"

Yeah, he wasn't trying hard to talk Kathy out of it.

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"That's what this is all about," Kathy said, looking decidedly impish. "You're curious about how good Dante really is--and you want someone to keep him occupied somewhere else." She pointed at him. "I'm onto you, Anders, and your devious plots."

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"Exactly," Anders agreed, with a broad grin of his own. "You get laid, he gets laid, I get to use my room. And then I get to hear filthy details afterwards. Everyone wins."

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"If you think I'm going to spill the details of an intimate encounter just on your say-so, you have another thing coming," Kathy said, with a haughty sniff.

Beat.

"...I'm going to require a suitable amount of ice cream while I dish. Obviously."