WHO: Rimmer and Raven.
WHERE: Stark Tower at first, then a movie theater.
WHEN: Evening 10/5/09.
WARNINGS: Nah.
SUMMARY: Rimmer's in his happy place, so to celebrate he's taking Raven to the movies. Yeah. That's his idea of a celebration.
FORMAT: Whateva.
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Let's go see the staaaaaars! )
Her eyes were focused hard on the cellphone in her hand, thumb going a mile a minute as she worked at inputting data, replying to texts, anything to wrap up her day and get that last thing in. She was becoming more like Tony every day, it seemed.
However, in her peripheral vision, she saw the car approaching, and quickly went to send one more message out before tucking the cellphone into her bag.
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She cleared her throat, blinking her eyes a few times. She wore the waterproof mascara today incase it had rained. She was suddenly very happy for this choice.
"So... we should get our seats."
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He wanted to dry her tears, but for one (recidivist) moment, hadn't the slightest idea how. And that one little backwards step caused an entire avalanche of panic in his mind. What has he done?! He's gone and made his best friend cry, that's what he's done. This was suddenly well out of his scope, so he was beating an awkward retreat, and squirming internally for it. Arn, you gimboid, you were doing so well, too. Damn. Damn idiot. You open up to her, you get her to open up to you, and what happens? You start chickening out. Again.
"...Sorry," he muttered as he ducked back out of the door.
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There it was. The story of her life.
She turned to go grab a seat as close to the exact center of the theater as she could, slumping down into the fabric and releasing a slow breath.
Way to go, Raven. You finally find someone you can honestly relate to on all of these amazing levels, and vice-versa, and you make him uncomfortable.
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...All right, that was deeper than just a regular old, plain old 'topic of conversation.' But why did he go yellow? Why so awkward?
It hit him like a bolt out of the blue: he didn't want anybody to have a worse life than he did. He wanted to have the pity party all to himself. The thought that she could "top" him like that made him freeze up. Or worse, get snotty. The thought of being snotty to her made him sick at his stomach.
Suck it up, Duke. Go back in there, with your smegging large popcorn and large drink that cost you fourteen smegging dollars and apologize. Grovel. Because if you screw this friendship ( ... )
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"No, it wasn't. I apologize for allowing my emotions to take hold like that, it was my fault."
She turned her head slightly to address him with a warm smile.
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He nudged her shoulder with his, even bumped her knee with his as well.
"I, on the other hand, shouldn't have been such a gimp. Forgive me, please. I didn't mean to make you cry."
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After swallowing, she finishes what she was saying.
"I haven't been given many opportunities to just leave it behind me, and be myself rather than... my father's daughter. So finally being able to legitimately talk about the pain with someone is... refreshing, and a release."
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"...I feel the same way," he whispered, stunned and touched. "That I can talk to you about these things is just...overwhelming, sometimes. I keep trying to do better, I really will. I promise. I'm sorry I walked away from you. I'll never do that again."
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Everyone always walked away in the end, after all.
But, putting on a brave and sweet face, she smiled and got even more comfortable against him. "I know. Don't worry about it, Arnold."
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"...No it's not. It's not all right. That bothers you. You lied to me."
The words were out of his mouth and said in a flat almost-monotone. And then the gooseflesh along his arms laid back down, and he shivered slightly as his brain caught up with his mouth.
"Oh. Uh. Well then. I...erm."
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She never moved, remaining in her cozy spot against him, but the look on her face never fading away.
"... Everyone leaves. It's something that will never change. Everyone vanishes, dies, or drifts away into their own lives. Everyone. Leaves."
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Shaking slightly still, he couldn't resist pulling her closer, and resting his head against hers. It was done for the purely instinctual, ape-like need of physical reassurance in a moment of distress.
"I'd contradict you, but you're right."
Hadn't that lesson been rubbed in in the most painful possible way for him?
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But the words just continue to flow out bitterly, like they always had, despite her many years of trying to change that habit.
"And one day... either the porter will take you away, or you'll find someone more interesting to spend your time with, and you'll leave too."
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He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a sort of broken exhale with no humour behind it. The opening credits of the movie began to roll, over long, panning shots of Tibet, but he was oblivious to it.
"I can't promise I won't leave. The 'Porter makes that impossible. But I wish I could. And...you're interesting!" he protested. It was a good thing they were alone in the theater, or he would have been shushed. "You're very interesting! If there's anybody more interesting than you I want them taken out back and shot!"
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"I know you can't promise... that's what I find so disheartening about the entire situation. One day you will, one way or the other. And I really wish it didn't have to be that way."
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