A Springtime Prom (SJO/Allies)

[Magdalena Lethe]

She blocked his grabby hand with the elbow connected to the hand presently holding her glass of wine.

"What in Red Nebula are you talking about poor again-" and then he almost fell down. Yep, definitely done with that bottle. She pushed it even further away.

"That'll be 160 credits," said the Bartender as he picked up the bottle, smugging at the pair.

"Ahk-pff-fwuaht?" Magda rounded on him, batting absently with her free hand at the hand presently patting her on the shoulder with far too much strength, "I beg your pardon. 160 credits?!"

"That's right. Those're the rules."

She scoffed, "What rules?"

"For Port in a Storm of course."

"Inconceivable."

"Or you can let him finish the bottle and pay 80."

"What! He is- don't you say a word Zee - he is NOT finishing that bottle, he can barely stand as it is!"

"That's not my problem."

She sputtered, "Excuse me, are we NOT attending an event within the realm of the reputable Silver Jedi, an event for youth no less. What in seven hells are you serving this sort of drink for? I have half a mind to report you to-" she looked around, "to... to someone."

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

The bartender shrugged and then pointed at the sign above the bar.

"This is the adult and chaperone area. You think a minor's prom would have alcohol to begin with? You're both old enough to be here and know the rules." The bartender stood up a little more and crossed their arms. "So that'll be 160 credits," they nodded their head towards the drunken man, "or he can finish it. You could always help him out."

Izzy gave the pair a thumbs up and waggled his eyebrows.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

"This is an outrage!"

But clearly he had her. Adut and Chaperone area. HMPH.

She glared at the bartender. She glared at Izzy, eyeing those ridiculous dancing eyebrows before palming a gloved hand against his forehead, "Put those away Sir. Here," and stuck her other arm out for the bartender to swipe the credit bar over.

"It's water and club soda for the rest of the night for you."

She had not budgeted for this but the presence of Izzy's arm and leg braces made her feel as if he at least had earned himself a good drink.

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

With a shrug the bartender snatched her credit bar and slid it into a port along the bar's wall. The credits ran, the bartender grunted and returned the bar.

"Pleasure doing business with ya," and sauntered off.

Izzy was now glaring at Mags, understanding what had just transpired.

"Why'd you go an da that?" he grumbled and plopped back into his seat. And just like that his night was deflated.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

"Because you're too heavy for me to carry back to the ship."

She clipped the credit bar back into the compartment and closed the latch, returning to her wine. Nope, she had not forgotten her wine and Izzy was already drunk enough for the both of them.

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

"Psh! I'm nit tttttttttthat drunk yet!" He pouted and eyed her wine.

"Besides...I think I've got four livers...I coulda handledt myshelf bac" Who was she to tell him about carrying people? She was such a light weight that he had a feeling he'd somehow end up the one carrying HER back to the ship. Atheema wouldn't be happy with him then. What if she threw up in her suit? The possibilities were endless with people who couldn't hold their booze.

He muttered somthing under his breath and shot Mags another glare before standing up.

"Welp ifa can't drink no mo Iiiiii'm gonna climb tree."

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

Magda made a face under the weight of his tupsy glare and promptly stuck her fancy straw back in through her helmet.

She sipped. Grumpily.

And Izzy spouting sonnets and folly like he was want to do, "Maybe you do," she actually had no idea if he had four livers, but she did know he wasn't human, jury was out on the specifics, "and maybe you could. But you're still recovering from some very serious injuries. And besides," turning on her stool to the bar she plunked down both elbows and groused over her wineglass, "I don't need to be drunk to enjoy your company. It would be nice to know you don't need to be to enjoy mine."

Climb a tree? What the heck did that mean?

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

That stopped him in his tracks. Is that what she really thought? That he needed to be drunk to enjoy her company? He tried to remember the time they'd spent together and couldn't remember much that wasn't on a mission or at some fancy event. They'd never really...Spent time together in his mind in an informal setting, and to him formals when someone else was footing the bill was ALWAYS the perfect time to get drunk on someone else's credits.

Maybe she didn't feel the same way.

His eyes softened and he sat back down.

"D'ya r-relly think I, hic, don enjey yer company Mags?"

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

Didn't look at him. Continued sipping.

Force, had it really been that long or was this wine really that good?

"Well, considering the two times I've asked you to spend time with me off the clock, one of the first things you do is head for the booze ... what's a girl supposed to think."

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

He was silent for a moment but whether if it was the booze or just his sensibilities he couldn't let the heavy implications hang over what had just been a rather lighthearted mood.

"Well.....maybeh we could go shomewhere without a booze bar soon." His eyes shifted uncomfortably and he placed a hand over her gloved one. "I'z cares about yu a lot Mags. Yer supposed ter at least think that." He blinked, trying to blink away the drunk. Now he was making a concerted effort to sober up but unfortunately for izzy, that's not how it worked. He'd try his damnedest anyways though.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

She supposed she never considered an alternative: that Izzy might actually be an alcoholic and couldn't help it. This thought didn't help her mood. But if removing the subject of desire from the situation entirely could be of help, she was certainly willing to test the theory.

Magda disengaged from the wine and induction port, turning her helmeted head to look at him in consideration. Slurred words or not, she'd never been much a fan of the accusations that Isaiah Dashiell was a crook and a pathological liar. He'd always seemed sincere, or maybe she was just much worse at gauging the character of a person than she thought.

Either way, she liked to believe he wasn't lying. That he did actually care. That he wouldn't be here all dressed up if he didn't. Or maybe he really did just come for the booze.

"Alright," time for a big, heaping serving of benefit-of-the-doubt, "where do you want to go next time?"

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

Next time? What did she mean by that? His eyes narrowed and then widened in realization and horror.

"Iz thiz a dayt?" He'd have thought that he would have seen the signs. The fancy clothes, the nice public venue, even the annoyance. He'd sworn that last time he let his feelings be known to her, in as much detail as his pride allowed, that they had flown right over her head. That she'd completely shot him down either by obliviousness or on purpose.

But now it seemed like....He was the one missing the signs.

He'd known many women in his time traveling the stars and coning his way from station to station with his elder brother, both for business purposes and for romantic or physical urges. Many more than he'd even care to try counting but...When it came to this lump in his chest maybe he wasn't as experienced as he'd thought.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

"Well the invitation to attend was open to all GUIDE personnel but I didn't ask anyone else to join me specifically."

Magda's brows lowered at the horrified expression on his face. Horrified? He was horrified to realize it? A deep frown suddenly tugged on her lips.

"So yes, I suppose it is. I didn't realize that was such a ghastly prospect." Was it the suit? Was it the fact that she was his Boss? Or maybe she really was just as her sister Saelia claimed: an awkward embarrassment to be around in public. She never could figure that one out.

"Forget I said anything."

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

He shook his head, the world falling around him with every nod of his head. Horrified? Maybe he was making a face, but he couldn't tell. He couldn't feel his face after all.

"No, no, no." This was going to be hard to recover from, especially this plastered. He slapped his own face to try and focus his attention but when he closed his eyes and opened them again all he could see were little balls of flame that sparkled like stars.

Flames!

"Goorlish lights...C-Corellian fwame minis. I'll take you," he said, rapidly in a slur, "We'll go annnnnnnd I won't be drunk," maybe. NO. "Juss us. Dayte 2?" He couldn't see, but he attempted to show two fingers, but for some reason couldn't manage it on one hand and held up one finger on both hands.

Drunk Izzy however forgot that he had several warrants in the Corellian Sector, but that was a worry for sober Izzy once they were actually there. Tonight, he had a relationship to repair.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

If he could see her expression he would note that it did not look particularly impressed or convinced.

Mostly it just looked like a curmudgeon who didn't know how to feel at the moment. A la Hal Terrano, anyone?

A short derisive snort followed his show of two fingers, one on each hand. Count em.

One.

Two.

"If we're going by selective invitation then it would actually be date 3."

She stared at him.

"Byblos."

A time when Izzy had also gotten drunk.

 

[Riamah]

Being a merchant and meeting with people in that aspect wasn't odd to Ra. What was odd to her were the large social functions, such as this. She could dress the part and fit in, but she would probably always feel like an outsider. Josh accepted her though and that was the most important thing.

Taking a breath with her eyes closed, she opened them and looked at Josh with a slight change in her look. His support was noted and felt. Giving him a smile, she nodded.

"Sometime I think we all live too much in the memories of the past and forget we're not there anymore. I need to put them there and let them rest. Make me a new me. Here I don't need to worry about getting information or having to be concerned if somebody is going to try and stab me in the back."

Wrapping an arm around his waist, she did as he requested and started to head in the direction of the bar.

"Somethings and habits are difficult to get over. Thanks for the help."

[member="Josh Dragonsflame"]

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

His face flushed with embarrassment and he cautiously raised a third finger up and gave her a solid nod.

"Noooooo DRINKING...Soberrrrr only trip...Toooo CORELLIA!" He pumped a fist into the air and shouted, drawing a few eyes to the pair. Izzy didn't have a care in the world though. What had once been said and gone completely over her head had finally landed. They were connected, at least in his mind, finally after feelings left unsaid for far too long.

Not even the Dark Lord of the Sith himself could wipe the wide wolfish grin Isaiah Dashiell had on his face that night.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

She blinked at his blush and correction of digits, verily fighting the smirk that was trying very hard to creep onto her lips. Not that her expression mattered any - he couldn't see it either way, even if he had become rather adept at guessing and reading her body language.

A wince at his drunken proclamation, a short glance around at those who had begun to stare. Magda felt her own face flush as she leaned to grab at his arm now proudly displayed in the air with a rather put-upon gentleman sidestepping what was almost a bad greeting, "Izzy -I'm very sorry Sir- you almost punched that man in the face. Put your fist down-" and came face to face with that grin.

Force she hated that grin.

Not actually, but it engendered some rather complicated feelings in her gut.

He sure did look pleased with himself though. And happy. She immediately could no longer withold the smirk, a laugh bubbling up from her lungs, "You're ridiculous, do you know that? Would you please drink some water."

 

[Isaiah Dashiell]

He looked over at the gentleman and then back at Mags before shrugging and giggling.

"Well maybe my fist wanted to meet him before the night was over!" He took a sip of water, grumbling and bubbling the water as he did so before he spoke again. "Do you think HE wants to come to Corellia with us?" His eyes narrowed and he turned to look back at the man who was no deep in the crowd.

"Haf u eber veen to Corellia Mags?" he asked, resting his arms on the bar and his head in the arm nest he'd made. Water was cold and didn't taste like port in a storm so for now he was content.

 

[Magdalena Lethe]

"I-" apparently drunk and chatty Isaiah Dashiell was tough to keep up with in conversation. Magda's lips pinched with droll amusement as she gently pushed the glass of water produced by the eavesdropping Bartender towards him.

"I think HE wants to go spend time with HIS date," she took up her own wine glass again, gently twirling the induction port around the rim and watching with relief and amusement as he indulged her request to drink water. Her smile faltered briefly at his question, "Once before, when I was very little. I don't remember much of it really."

The faint glow of blue eyes shifted back to him, fingers catching the straw, "What about you? Have you been?" and then tucked it back through the opening of her mask to sip more wine.

Ugh, so good.