fandomtownies | The Park - Friday early afternoon

Neil would have to admit to Chad that he'd actually slept in, though he had a good reason given how late he stayed at the Nest last night!

Still he had treated himself to a blueberry white iced tea thing and was making his way back across the park. He had a book of monologues tucked into the waistband of his slacks and was trying to decide if he wanted to stop and read for a bit under a tree or just head back to his room.

Annette didn't notice anyone walking around in the park. She was oblivious in her own little world of dreaming.

That? And she was totally snorning. Though Neil might not be close enough to realize that or to have even taken notice of her yet.

He saw her but simply shook his head with a silent chuckle and headed down aways to an out of the way tree.

Neil had no desire to interupt someone else's peaceful snoozing.

It wasn't a long nap. Dangit. But she woke up surprised that she had even fallen asleep. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and looked around. Noticing Neil off down a bit from her, Annette lifted her hand, waving at him and smiling warmly.

There had been a Jeff in the park some time ago, but that incidence had been followed by a stretch of Jefflessness. Now, however, he had decided he would be a man. Men didn't fear phones.

Or their mothers.

He still smelled vaguely of sewer.

Blinking, Annette sat up and rubbed her eyes, yawning. Crap. She had fallen asleep.

Looking around, she spotted someone she had never seen before. She rubbed her eyes again and stared. Just cause.

Jeff was hunched over the grass, his focus entirely on the finding of his phone. That is, until he turned around and saw the girl. He tensed up, every muscle locking into place in pure terror.

Um. Annette wasn't sure why he was looking like that. She got up off her blanket and slowly started towards him, "Hi...umm, did you lose something?"

It took a Herculean amount of effort on his part, but Jeff managed to narrowly escape Tactical Social Error #14 (hyperventilating).

"I'm sorry," he said, "I heard noise, I-- I thought you were a frog."

Only to blunder, as always, into Tactical Social Error #1: saying the first thing that came to mind. He tried to smile disarmingly.

She made a face at him, "I'm not a frog. I don't even sound like one." Admit that she was snoring? Never! Because she didn't snore. As if!

"So, I'm Annette Hargrove. I haven't met you yet. Cause I think I would remember if I met you."

(*facepalm* I guess it helps it I actually hit post comment.)

"Well, obviously," Jeff said, in a clear attempt to cover up his faux-pas, "For one thing, you have far greater volume." He shook his head. "...Frogs aren't very well-equipped, lung-wise. Your torso must be far superior..." He sought for the right word, "In, uh, respects."

He trailed off, still grinning like a lunatic, his eyes (big, big frightened doe eyes) flicking down to the general lung area. There was a good chance he hadn't heard much of what she'd been saying.

Annette looked down at her torso, for no apparent reason other than to see just how far her lungs expanded when she breathed. Uh. She couldn't tell. She looked back over at this new guy and found his huge, big, frightened? eyes on her lung area. What the crap?

"Are you high?"

Jeff snapped out of it, more reflexively than anything else.

"Oh, no! Sorry," he exclaimed, "I was just admiring the vastness of your lungs. Uh, academically," He giggled nervously. "I wasn't looking at anything important."

Annette looked down at her chest, er, lungs again and took a deep breath. "Uh. You can look at my lungs academically?" His giggle, even if nervous, was infectious and she found herself chuckling. "I think my lungs are very important. I couldn't breathe otherwise guy who still has not introduced himself."

"Well, you know. Comparative amphibian student. Very preoccupied with lungs, us." The end of the nudity buffer was swiftly approaching and the chorus of voices yelling at him to stop telling stupid lies seemed to have gone quiet for the duration. "I'm Jeff," he said, "I'm very interested in lungs. And frogs. Obviously. And people. Lungs."

He might have stopped blinking somewhere along the line. Might. The fully automatic systems in his brain had chalked up 'lungs' as an euphemism for breasts already, though.

Okay. She was having a hard time figuring this guy out. She stammered out because she couldn't think of anything else to say, "I'm not sure, but I don't think we offer biology here. Or frog biology. Or biology of the lungs even." She blinked and nodded and was still smiling. "Nice to meet you, Jeff. Whose interested in lungs. Mine are short by the way. I mean I'm short so I guess my lungs would be short. But I can breathe really really good."

The blinking was..."Do you have something in your eye? Want me to check for you? Come here and let me see..."

How to explain that ever since he started watching Star Trek, he'd been rendered completely incapable of blinking in the presence of women? Jeff's mouth fell open a little. "I can see that," he said, a bit desperately, "Your lungs are brilliantly fitted. Inspired work! Not like frogs at all." He didn't move.

She beamed. Hey! She had nice lungs! "Thanks, Jeff. You probably have nice lungs too but really since I am not an everyday observer of lungs, I can't give you an honest answer. Apparently you do this a lot, hmm?"

Since he didn't move, she stepped closer to him and peered up at his face, at his eyes. "You'll have to bend down some cause -- I really hate being short sometimes...ugh. But I can't see into your eyes very well."

"S-sorry," he managed. "If I'm near nice lungs I start talking complete rubbish. They're just so... full of air, you know?" Jeff bent down obediently, mostly because fluid was starting to roll out of his eyes and it was sort of starting to hurt, and, okay, maybe it was because there was a girl asking him to and he'd freeze on the spot otherwise. "When properly, er, inflated. I mean. It's not as if I'd keep dried lungs on ice under my bed. That'd be mad. Though I'm sure yours are brilliant either way."

Um. Okay. She reached up and sort of went to pry his eyes open to peer into them, despite his starting to cry. Wow. He really did get excited over lungs. "But tell me, how do you know when you see a nice pair or not? And eww, that's gross. Who would not have inflated lungs and to look at them all shriveled and on dry ice? That's like, just insane, right? And...morbid I think." Annette narrowed her eyes, trying to locate anything in his eyes that just didn't belong there. "How do you know mine are brilliant?"

What with the bending and the reaching, all Jeff needed to do was flick his eyes down to get the expert opinion on her lungs. "Oh," he said, "Just a feeling I get."

That wasn't supposed to come out that husky.

"I think it might have been the fish," he stammered, in a desperate attempt to get back on track as the nudity buffer flew past him and his mother's voice started chiding him in his mind again. "You know, you take a dip in the-- well, it's all multiplying, isn't it?"

"I see," Annette said and let her hands fall from his face. She sighed deeply, "I'm sorry, Jeff, but I don't see anything in your eyes. Maybe it's the grass...or something. Allergies?"

It was husky and Annette noted that, but maybe he just needed a drink of water or something.

Then he totally confused her again. "Fish? A dip in the -- you want to go swimming? We could totally do that!"

Jeff was certain that, if she knew the level of restraint it took not to smile at her lungs like a deranged lunatic, she would be impressed.

He certainly would be.

Still, she was still here, even if he'd convinced her he was a frog specialist with a lung fetish. That had to count for something. "Swimming? Yes," he smiled (nervously), "Swimming... would be good. Some... time?" Full body freeze approaching in ten...

Poor guy just needed friends did't he? Aww. Annette was caring like that and felt it her responsiblity to take him in and befriend him totally.

It's just the way it had to be.

She gave him an endearing smile, "We'll plan it for next week sometime. Does that sound good? In the meantime I am in room 508 with no roommate although Dick is there a good deal of the time. You can stop by any time you like to visit, hang out, whatever. And maybe we'll go have pie one day. Do you like pie?"

"Okay," he said, meekly. Which question he was answering wasn't entirely obvious. Most likely all of them. "Pie-date," he continued, "It's brilliant, isn't it? Because there's pie and there's company. Pie."

He hoped 'pie' would substitute some of his accidental words. It was certainly less embarrassing.

"I should probably get on, now." No, he didn't remember why he'd gone to the park in the first place.

Another lover of pie. Wow. They were everywhere. How cool was that?

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Jeff. And thanks for, um, you know, liking my lungs."

"Oh, it was no problem. No problem at all!" He grinned broadly, flashing Annette his thumbs up as he walked backwards out of the park.

He'd probably freak out about this when he got home later.

Turtle had just arrived back in Fandom and was on her way to the dorms, cutting through the park and she stopped dead in the tracks when she saw Annette there. Sleeping. Oblivious to the world around her as those snores sawed through her REM.

It was....the perfect opportunity.

But her and Annette were being civil now. Or at least trying.

...In this case, trying really, really, really, really hard because, seriously! Quick trip to J,GoB, or even to Turtle & Canary, would give her something to take this chance, but...

"Dang it!" She shook her fist at the heavens. If she hadn't just won two hundred million dollars, she'd be ticked at Fate. However, it seemed pretty even as it stood.

Annette jumped at that 'Dang it!' and sat up quickly, looking around with bug eyes.

"What? Who? Ummm..."

Turtle winced. Oops.

"Uhh, hey, Annette. What's up? Miss me? You know, you shouldn't fall asleep in the park like this. Who knows who might be standing there, thinking about smooshing a pie in your face or coloring your hair with blue markers?"

She flashed a terribly un-innocent grin.

"Oh, Turtle, hi, nothing, fell asleep. No? Maybe? I don't know? Had a late night with grapes." Uh. That all came out wrong. She rubbed her eyes. "You think someone would want to shove a pie in my face or color my hair blue -- Oh. I see," Yeah, that grin said much. Annette grinned back and touched her hair, "I have always wanted some sort of color on my hair. Maybe streaks or something. I'm not a very daring person." She who sneaks around at midnight and cuts off hair, said.

And sleeps in parks.

"Yeah, right," Turtle said. "I owe one random, mid-sleep hairstyle..." She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow pointedly. Knowing about the big, fat inheritance she'd just won, though, made her feel a little forgiving about the hair. "I should get to work, let you get back to your nap?"

But that was such an accident. Really.

"I'm not napping. Wasn't napping. On purpose. Was just reading and then studying the leaves. And...I'm a light sleeper." Lie!

"Where were you for the fourth?"

Turtle arched an eyebrow at Annette; noticed she was gone, then, did she? Hmmm.

"I went home," she answered. "Fourth of July is HUGE in Westingtown."

"Really? Did you have a good time? With family and friends?" Cause Annette's fourth kind of sucked. At least until her and Dick made up. Then it was still just okay. Weird feelings and all after almost breaking up.

"Come sit down, Turtle..." she patted the blanket. And this was so amazing wasn't it? They were actually talking omigod!

Turtle eyed the spot a bit suspiciously. The events over her own fourth had left her a little paranoid...understandably, really, despite knowing that, hey, her and Annette were, like, friends again. Or something like it.

"Maybe for a bit," she said, sitting down with her legs folded in front of her. "I can spare a few moments before I need to get to the store. Training a new employee today; wouldn't do well to be late."

"You are? Who? And if an Andrew comes in ever? I totally sent him there. I told him all about Turtle and Canary and that he could find just about anything there he needed." She smiled and realized she was just carrying on like Turtle was an old buddy.

Anyway...

"He's really nice and loves pie. Really loves pie."

"Good," Turtle said with a nod. "Thanks for the good word. You know, forty seven percent of sales for most privately owned businesses is through word of mouth, so I appreciate it."

"And the new hire is Bart Allen. He seems like he'll be a really hard worker, so I'm excited. And we're going to get coffee afterwards in celebration."

"You're welcome, Turtle," Annette said proudly, then offered. "You know, if you ever have a sale going on or anything, I can help by putting out flyers or posters up or...just whatever."

"Bart Allen. I haven't met him yet. Is he a new student?"

"Yeah, he is," Turtle answered distractedly, because there were more important things than Bart right now. "Put up flyers? And you won't even, like, deface them or anything?"

Annette blinked. "Why would I - uh - no, I wouldn't Turtle. I swear it."

Turtle let her sharp smirk speak for her as Annette corrected and amended her statement.

"What?" She was trying here! It was hard going from arch nemesis to Turtle friendly overnight!

"I would use glitter on any posters I made too, if you wanted."

"Glitter on posters isn't very effective," Turtle admitted with a sigh. "I've had that glittery "Help Wanted' sign in the window for ages and only now does someone pick up on it. If you really wanted to help, you would start recommending some of these new kids to pick up a day or two."

She nodded, "I can do that, Turtle. I would be glad too. And you know, if I didn't have a job already, I would totally ask if I could have a job there." But then she would be wanting to buy everything all the time. Which might not be such a bad thing.

"Don't forget to mention the free Squishies," Turtle reminded her. That was the best part, besides, of course, having Turtle for a boss.

"Free Squishies, got it," Annette said thinking she could tell quite a few people already.

"Thanks, Annette." Turtle smiled. And it might have even been genuine.

"No problem, Turtle, really," she smiled back, without hate. Imagine that.

The Park - Friday early afternoon

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