Who: Shego & Tim Drake
When: Saturday night
Where: A common room. Level 2?
What: It really wasn't going to be a date until the Barge decided it would be. :c
Warnings: Tim may be wearing a sweater vest. SEXY.
(
So maybe it was a Life's A Bitch flood or The Multiverse Hates Your Taste In Clothes flood or something. )
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She almost wanted to try explaining away the yard of cleavage, but there were no explanations that wouldn't involve confessing to tribble husbandry or claiming the rest of her clothes were in a laundry pile - and frankly? Death was better than that level of slobbishness. So she let it go and sat down.
...Hadn't there been armchairs at some point? Besides that, had the couches gotten...narrower?
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Which was hard, because he had no idea why she'd worn it. Unless this was a date. ...It could be a date. Oh God, was that why she'd worn that dress? He should've suggested dinner. Or maybe not, it wasn't like they could go anywhere nice to--
He was seriously over thinking this. "...The couches weren't always this small, right?"
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(Was he seriously wearing a sweater vest? When did he last go shopping, 1955?)
"I...didn't think so. Eh, whatever, maybe the Admiral redecorated." She definitely remembered being able to sit on one of these couches without her arm being in a constant state of almost-touching with the person next to her. "How are you doing, anyway? You seem less...twitchy." Marginally.
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