WHO: Tank Girl and Laurie Juspeczyk WHERE: About the city. WHEN: January 27th WARNINGS: Tank's mouth, per usual. Maybe more. SUMMARY: THE FIRST DATE MOTHAFUCKAS FORMAT: Errrr whatever
Laurie hadn't been on a date since she first started seeing Dan. It was refreshing, felt good, to go through the process again. Getting to know someone romantically. Seeing them in a new light.
She was dressed in a pencil skirt, tight black turtle-neck and black pumps. She smelled slightly of vanilla and nodded at Tank with a smile. Her roommate looked good. Laurie had always found her very pretty but she was beginning to notice subtle things about Tank that made her blush.
Clutch under one arm, Tank on the other. Not bad. She hadn't checked out any of the museums in the city since she'd been here, a few months now. She almost stopped at the realization. A goddamn lot had changed in a few months.
"Me too." Heading towards their motorcycle. Tank really should make them a car too soon, come to think of it...
"Overall favorite artist? Shit, hard to choose. I've been on a serious M.C. Escher kick, lately. That motherfucker was crazy - and thorough. You can lose yourself in his patterns, real easy."
"But I've got a personal favorite painting. Three Dancers, by Picasso."
This was actually a thing for her. She was an art history nerd, secretly. Blame watching nearly every episode of Jeopardy! in existence.
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She was dressed in a pencil skirt, tight black turtle-neck and black pumps. She smelled slightly of vanilla and nodded at Tank with a smile. Her roommate looked good. Laurie had always found her very pretty but she was beginning to notice subtle things about Tank that made her blush.
"Whenever you are."
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Tank put one arm around Laurie's - not exactly holding hands, but still, close. Couldn't be the sex fiend Tank usually was. Had to work her way up.
This felt good, though.
"Gonna go to the museum of art in this city. Sound good to you?"
Grinning ear to ear, walking out the door.
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Clutch under one arm, Tank on the other. Not bad. She hadn't checked out any of the museums in the city since she'd been here, a few months now. She almost stopped at the realization. A goddamn lot had changed in a few months.
"I'm glad we're doing this," she said softly.
"Do you have a favorite artist?"
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"Overall favorite artist? Shit, hard to choose. I've been on a serious M.C. Escher kick, lately. That motherfucker was crazy - and thorough. You can lose yourself in his patterns, real easy."
"But I've got a personal favorite painting. Three Dancers, by Picasso."
This was actually a thing for her. She was an art history nerd, secretly. Blame watching nearly every episode of Jeopardy! in existence.
Reply
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