The time had come. Charlotte left John in charge of setting up the bar, giving him only the one request that he have a decent selection of beer, and did the work of dialing up the food. She knew she was going way over board. For all she knew no one might show up, even though she'd gotten a bit of a response to her invite. How could people
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Plus, he may or may not have a bottle of Everclear stashed in his jacket, after a conversation he'd had with Brigitta. But shh, nobody knows about that except the two of them.
Grinning, he waves to Charlotte when he sees her, raising the iPod for her to see.
"Hey there. Ready for a good time?" He calls.
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He approaches the patio, and offers it to her, shrugging. "The best I could do with the hatch. Asked it for the least douchey thing it could come up with and this is what it gave me."
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He had two metal barrels filled with ice, one full of bottles of beer that he'd drank in his life, the other full of bottles of soda. He was keeping the hard liquor under slightly tighter guard. But he was ready for anything.
Except what Charlie came out wearing. He suddenly felt woefully under dressed.
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The oddness of him didn't strike her as dangerous, so she only watched him rather than putting up any wards. "There's food, drink, and comfy places to sit. Everything a party could need." Including, possibly, the first non-human, but Charlotte just wasn't sure.
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He senses something from her, or at least the area. Curious.
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If she had any idea what she'd just said, she probably would have dropped the wine and fled, but she'd been enjoying the evening so much, she barely noticed the slightly cold feeling of him.
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There was no avoiding it. She had been living like a hermit for weeks, months really. And one of the only times she'd ventured out she'd nearly been killed. It wasn't a phenomenally confidence-stirring fact.
Still. There were people out there, a greater society, and she was at heart a social creature. It was difficult watching other people network and participate while she endlessly made herself tea and prayed.
Only shénshèng de gāowán did it have to be at John Everton's house? She rubbed her neck reflexively. He'd apologized in a very halfhearted way with no assurances that it wouldn't happen again, the entire becoming a monster of legend...thing. And nearly killing her. Was she insane to contemplate walking directly into his home? She already felt so stupid for it happening in the first place ( ... )
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But hey, that's not going to stop him from coming over to Inara and flashing her a grin, offering her a beer. No use in being shy.
"Hey. Good to see you."
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"Miss Serra. Thank you for coming. Charlie's around somewhere." He offered her a beer as a peace offering, before clapping Dean on the shoulder.
"Now, if you'll both excuse me." He dipped his head before fading back into the party.
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And then there was John. To her credit she didn't stop smiling, even if it went a bit frozen and her body language stiffened. "Hello," she said with polite neutrality, but waved off his beer since she already had the one Dean had given her in hand as an excuse.
She didn't really start breathing again until he walked away again and she looked back to Dean with a slightly sheepish smile. "It's good to see you too. You know...I'm sorry that I didn't get the chance to thank you properly for saving me. I was considering a fruit basket but it seemed just a bit underwhelming given the circumstances."
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