fandomtownies | Fast Eddie's, Wednesday evening

"Oh, it was no problem," Rodney held back from mentioning that he really didn't have a social life that might make scheduling difficult. He seemed to realize that he should've opened the door for Charlie and mentally facepalmed. "So, how did the rehearsal go?" There, that was better - showing an interest in her activities.

"Yeah, food would be good." Rodney was always ready to eat.

"Onion rings?" Charlie suggested, then reconsidered. Date. Onions. Bad. "Or popcorn. Popcorn's good. And a drink. We need energy for pool."

She grinned, leaning against the counter. "It went well! Troy and the actors were practicing trust falls, and it turned into a tickle fight, and A.J. has all these ideas for what we're going to do with the set design. I'm hoping we can work a smoke machine and some wire-work in there, somewhere. Although the plot doesn't really call for it," she admitted.

"Popcorn. Lots of butter," he nodded. "And a caffeinated beverage."

Rodney smiled back but wasn't quite comfortable enough for leaning. "Smoke machines are always cool," he agreed. "Maybe you can convince the directors to move the story to a sci-fi or fantasy setting. That would open the door for all sorts of special effects work."

Charlie grinned, and grabbed her Diet Coke when it arrived, taking a sip. "A.J. was talking about making the setting kind of a futuristic castle? With creepy colors. So that would work. Ooo! Maybe some of the actors could look like they're using jet-packs!" She'll have to remember to tell A.J. that one when she sees him. "Have you ever helped on a play?"

"Oh, then you'll definitely need the creepy fog at the very least." Rodney started munching on popcorn as soon as the bowl was set down. "You know, we could probably build some real jet-packs. I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to find the right parts somewhere around here," he mused as he started making a mental list of what he's need. He tended to get ahead of himself. "No, I was more of the chess club sort," he said self-deprecatingly.

"Oooo. Working jet packs?" Charlie asked, looking intrigued. "Really? We could ask Professor Aly, she's the faculty advisor, if we could actually use them. You know how to make them?" She couldn't help sounding impressed, and took a handful of popcorn, nibbling on one kernel. "So you're pretty smart. Or more than pretty smart." She grinned a little. "Lovely smart?"

"Sure," he replied. "The biggest problem would probably be teaching the actors to use them without anyone getting injured." Rodney shuddered at the thought of flying straight into the ceiling.

He blushed a little at the compliment even though he was the one who usually pointed out his intelligence to everyone else. "Well, um, yes. Genius," he pointed at himself. "And also, I'm a member of Mensa."

"Cool," Charlie said, grinning a little, admiring. "How smart do you have to be, to get into Mensa?" She cocked her head. "Thunderstorms maybe? How difficult would that be, if we already have a wind machine?"

"You have to be above the 98th percentile of the population on IQ tests," he stated smugly. And then he tried to look like he wasn't being smug because even he knew that wasn't a good quality in a date.

"Thunderstorms are easy. It's mostly just the sound effects and you can ~~MacGyver~~ rig something together from pretty basic stuff. I can help you make it," he offered.

Mostly, Charlie found the smugness kind of funny. At least you knew where you stood with Rodney. "Awesome! Even if there isn't anything in the plot, it'll make a great scene-change. Maybe even for intermission," Charlie said, planning it in her head. She grinned at him, and threw a kernel of popcorn in her mouth. "Ready to play, Mr. Mensa?"

Rodney was glad that Charlie wasn't annoyed with him yet. "Thunder is always useful for that sort of thing. You should definitely suggest it," he nodded.

"Yes, time to play." Grabbing a last handful of popcorn, he picked up his Coke and gestured for Charlie to lead the way. "After you."

"Thank you so much," Charlie said, giving him a little bow as she headed over to a pool table. "Okay, you don't have to go easy on me, but, I haven't played too much. Just so you know." Of course, she *could* cheat... but she wouldn't.

Unless it would be funny.

"Stripes and solids?"

"You're welcome." He followed her to the table while debating if he should do as she asked. It seemed like a 'date' sort of thing to let her have an advantage, but honestly, Rodney played to win. "Alright, no going easy, but how about if you break? Ladies first and whatnot."

"Cool. Thanks." Charlie grinned at him, and chalked her cue, blowing the dust off the tip before leaning over to set up the pool balls. "Hopefully I can break well enough to give us room to work. If I don't, you can take the next shot anyway."

She broke, and the balls scattered to every corner, none of them going in. "All yours!"

Rodney only stared a little when Charlie blew on her cue. He was a guy, he couldn't help it. He absently chalked his own cue while Charlie broke and then went to study the layout of the balls. He lined up his shot and called, "seven, corner pocket." He made the shot and smiled at Charlie.

Charlie grinned, and stopped herself from giggling that that ploy actually worked. But, hey. He'd called her hot within two minutes of meeting her. It was pretty cool, to know that. She smiled back at him, sliding the cue in between her fingers. "Still your turn," she said innocently. "Since you sunk one."

Rodney thought Charlie had a really nice smile. And hands. Her hands were nice, too. He turned back to the table. "Uh, two, center pocket." He lined up the shot. Yeah, definitely nice hands. He just barely missed the pocket.

"My turn, yay," Charlie said, restraining a giggle, and carefully lining up the cue ball to sink the ball that Rodney had narrowly missed. "Cool! Hmmm." She stopped, trying to figure out her next shot, wandering around the pool table. "So when did you learn how to play? You're very good."

"Good job," he said when Charlie made her shot. "I actually taught myself. It's really just a matter of working out the geometry and calculating the necessary force. And hey, you're not so bad yourself. When did you start playing?"

"A month or so ago, mostly. Dean-- my Fandom Big Brother-- brought me here with Alec, and they showed me how to play." Which shouldn't have made her turn pink, but hearing that after she said it, it was kind of unavoidable. "Pool. How to play pool. Not, anything... wow, teaching yourself? I really don't have a shot at winning here, do I?"

Giving up on finding a good angle, Charlie settled for taking the easiest one she saw, and setting up a shot at the stripes if Rodney just kept the cue ball on the left side of the table. And if she could stop being a doof now? That would be great.

"Only a month? That's not long at all." He wondered at her blush, but mostly, he thought it made her look especially pretty. "Were they good teachers?" He asked innocently as Charlie set up her shot.

"Yeah, they were." And there was the giggle she'd tried to swallow before.
"Um, they also tried to teach me how to hustle, but I don't think I'm good enough to be able to make it work yet," Charlie said with a grin. She narrowed her eyes, and took her shot, missing and sending the cueball careening off to a corner. "For example." She rolled her eyes and leaned on her pool cue.

Rodney gave her a mock finger waggle. "Hustling is bad. I would never try to hustle someone. But that's because I can't act and not due to any moral objection," he grinned back.

He laughed when the ball went flying. "Everybody does that at some point," he assured her as he went to get the ball.

Charlie rubbed her face in embarrassment, watching Rodney set up the next shot for himself. "So, chess, and making jet packs, and Mensa... you're a pretty busy guy. Is that why you're here at Fandom? Normal high school too boring?"

"Something like that," Rodney responded as he lined up his shot and sunk it. "When I was in grade six, I built an atomic bomb as a science fair project. But it's not like I had any plutonium," he added quickly. "And even though it couldn't actually explode and I'm Canadian, I was questioned by the CIA for hours. Still, they ended up giving me a job and then they sent me here."

Before deciding which ball to go for next, he looked back at Charlie. "So, what brought you here?"

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