Vanilla 21, chocolate 16, strawberry 19: Taking Chances
Title: Taking Chances
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vanilla 21 (a dare), chocolate 16 (pride), strawberry 19 (umbrella), rainbow sprinkles, malt (darkfaerieclaw's truth or dare: how Nathan and Gail met and started dating).
Word Count: 1130
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: Friends exist to drive you nuts and make you take chances. Usually at the same time.
Notes: There is a shout-out to M*A*S*H in here, because I am rediscovering my intense adoration for Alan Alda. So, if you see it... yes, it's on purpose.
"Gail!" Kim shouted, pattering her way down the front steps. "Gail, wait for me!"
If it had been anyone else, Gail would not have waited. She had a nearly-two-year-old to pick up and laundry to do. But it was Kim, her closest friend, and it was raining the slow and steady sort of rain that you thought you could make it through but that always soaked you to the bone.
Besides, Kim covered a lot more ground a lot faster than anyone thought she could, particularly when given motivation. It wouldn’t cost her more than a minute.
"Thanks," Kim said when she caught up, ducking under the umbrella and crowding into Gail's side. "For a minute there I thought I was going to have to walk through this mess."
"Forget your umbrella again?"
Kim shook her head, droplets spattering off the ends of her long black hair. "No. It turned inside out in the wind this morning. Goddamn thing. I'll get another one on the way home, but I'd be obliged if you'll take me as far as the subway."
The station was on the way to Ivy's daycare, so Gail could hardly object. "Sure."
"Good," Kim said, and looked suddenly smug as they set off. "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway."
That was a little ominious. Gail frowned. "What about?"
"I have this friend," Kim began, and just the way she said it made Gail stop dead in her tracks. Her umbrella tilted backwards and showered water on them both.
She didn't notice. "Kim Mulcahey! Are you trying to set me up?"
Kim looked wounded, but spoiled it a bit by correcting the umbrella's angle. "You didn't even let me finish my sentence."
She didn't need to, Gail thought darkly. Still, in the interests of fairness... "All right. Finish your sentence," she said, and started walking again. She could always be indignent once she'd been proven right.
Kim cleared her throat pointedly. "As I was saying, I have this friend, he's very nice, and I think you two would get along because!" She raised a hand sharply, to forestall another interruption. "Because, Gail, he's a wonderful person and a single father. Or, well, divorced, whatever."
Gail would have crossed her arms had she not been holding the umbrella. As it was... "I repeat: Kim Mulcahey, are you setting me up?"
"You're always saying single parents should stick together," Kim pointed out.
"That's not an answer."
Kim sighed. "No, Gail, I am not trying to set you up. I am trying to introduce you to a friend of mine who I think you would like. If sparks fly, sparks fly, and I'm not saying I wouldn't be thrilled if they did..."
"You are setting me up." Gail closed her eyes and groaned. "God, Kim, can't you leave me a little bit of pride?"
"Honeychild," Kim said, and Gail made a face. Kim only ever called someone "honeychild" when she was about to be patronizing. "You have a two-year-old. I know you love her, and granted, she's one of the most charming and best-behaved two-year-olds I've ever seen, but you have to admit that a young child is kind of a turnoff to most guys."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not looking to date those guys," Gail retorted. "Hell, Kim, I'm not looking to date at all. I don't need a guy to validate my existence."
Kim tsk'd quietly, and shook her head. "That's not what I meant and you know it. You don't need a guy, but you have to admit that it's nice to have one. And you can't let your asshole ex turn you against the entire male gender. Unless you want Ivy to have two mommies, in which case, hey, go wild."
Gail rolled her eyes. "I'm not gay, Kim."
"The two-year-old would imply that, yes."
"Kim..." Best friend or no, Gail was sorely tempted to leave her in the rain.
Kim put a hand on Gail's arm, stopping her, and edged around until she was standing in front of Gail but still covered by the umbrella. "Look, hon, it's like this. Since your asshole ex left, you've barely had any time to spend with adults. While I think it's admirable that you're so devoted to your daughter's well-being, I also think you need some time with grownups. So I'd like to introduce you to Nathan. That's all. I'm not setting you up or tying him to your bed or anything. It's just dinner." She punctuated her words with a quick squeeze of Gail's forearm.
Gail sighed. "Blind date dinner?"
Kim tilted her head to the side. "Actually I was thinking the four of us. You, me, Nathan, and my mister. If all else fails you and I can decamp to the bathroom and leave the boys to reminsce about the good old Navy days."
"I'll think about it," Gail said, meaning 'no,' and started walking again, a little faster. The subway station was just up ahead, and with it, the end of this conversation.
But Kim knew her too well to let it stand at that. "Just once, Gail," she said, persuasively. "Just once. I dare you. Have some fun."
"You dare me?" Gail gave her a sidelong, skeptical look. "What are we, twelve?"
"Excuse me. We are at least fourteen," Kim said. "I double-dog-dare you. Call me when you're ready to set this up." She darted down into the subway station before Gail could answer.
Gail huffed and went on towards Ivy's daycare center, trying not to be furious with Kim and failing just a little. It wasn't fair, but Kim was right, dammit; not many men were interested in single mothers, and the ones who did get interested were either fathers themselves, or creepy. She already knew this Nathan fell under the first category. She rather hoped he didn't fall under the second.
Damn Kim, anyway. Why did she always have to be right?
Gail tipped her umbrella a bit too far forward and yelped as she got water down her neck. Rain, rain, rain. It seemed like it was always raining for her. It had rained the day she found out she was pregnant, and the day she'd realized that she really could do this; it had rained the day Ivy was born, and the day Brad left, and it would probably be raining on Ivy's birthday this coming Sunday, too. She'd come to expect rain on the days that her life changed.
...maybe she should give this a try. Just once wouldn't necessarily mean anything, and like Kim said, she'd have an escape route. What could it hurt?
It was raining, after all.
And maybe Kim would shut up about it.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vanilla 21 (a dare), chocolate 16 (pride), strawberry 19 (umbrella), rainbow sprinkles, malt (darkfaerieclaw's truth or dare: how Nathan and Gail met and started dating).
Word Count: 1130
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: Friends exist to drive you nuts and make you take chances. Usually at the same time.
Notes: There is a shout-out to M*A*S*H in here, because I am rediscovering my intense adoration for Alan Alda. So, if you see it... yes, it's on purpose.
"Gail!" Kim shouted, pattering her way down the front steps. "Gail, wait for me!"
If it had been anyone else, Gail would not have waited. She had a nearly-two-year-old to pick up and laundry to do. But it was Kim, her closest friend, and it was raining the slow and steady sort of rain that you thought you could make it through but that always soaked you to the bone.
Besides, Kim covered a lot more ground a lot faster than anyone thought she could, particularly when given motivation. It wouldn’t cost her more than a minute.
"Thanks," Kim said when she caught up, ducking under the umbrella and crowding into Gail's side. "For a minute there I thought I was going to have to walk through this mess."
"Forget your umbrella again?"
Kim shook her head, droplets spattering off the ends of her long black hair. "No. It turned inside out in the wind this morning. Goddamn thing. I'll get another one on the way home, but I'd be obliged if you'll take me as far as the subway."
The station was on the way to Ivy's daycare, so Gail could hardly object. "Sure."
"Good," Kim said, and looked suddenly smug as they set off. "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway."
That was a little ominious. Gail frowned. "What about?"
"I have this friend," Kim began, and just the way she said it made Gail stop dead in her tracks. Her umbrella tilted backwards and showered water on them both.
She didn't notice. "Kim Mulcahey! Are you trying to set me up?"
Kim looked wounded, but spoiled it a bit by correcting the umbrella's angle. "You didn't even let me finish my sentence."
She didn't need to, Gail thought darkly. Still, in the interests of fairness... "All right. Finish your sentence," she said, and started walking again. She could always be indignent once she'd been proven right.
Kim cleared her throat pointedly. "As I was saying, I have this friend, he's very nice, and I think you two would get along because!" She raised a hand sharply, to forestall another interruption. "Because, Gail, he's a wonderful person and a single father. Or, well, divorced, whatever."
Gail would have crossed her arms had she not been holding the umbrella. As it was... "I repeat: Kim Mulcahey, are you setting me up?"
"You're always saying single parents should stick together," Kim pointed out.
"That's not an answer."
Kim sighed. "No, Gail, I am not trying to set you up. I am trying to introduce you to a friend of mine who I think you would like. If sparks fly, sparks fly, and I'm not saying I wouldn't be thrilled if they did..."
"You are setting me up." Gail closed her eyes and groaned. "God, Kim, can't you leave me a little bit of pride?"
"Honeychild," Kim said, and Gail made a face. Kim only ever called someone "honeychild" when she was about to be patronizing. "You have a two-year-old. I know you love her, and granted, she's one of the most charming and best-behaved two-year-olds I've ever seen, but you have to admit that a young child is kind of a turnoff to most guys."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not looking to date those guys," Gail retorted. "Hell, Kim, I'm not looking to date at all. I don't need a guy to validate my existence."
Kim tsk'd quietly, and shook her head. "That's not what I meant and you know it. You don't need a guy, but you have to admit that it's nice to have one. And you can't let your asshole ex turn you against the entire male gender. Unless you want Ivy to have two mommies, in which case, hey, go wild."
Gail rolled her eyes. "I'm not gay, Kim."
"The two-year-old would imply that, yes."
"Kim..." Best friend or no, Gail was sorely tempted to leave her in the rain.
Kim put a hand on Gail's arm, stopping her, and edged around until she was standing in front of Gail but still covered by the umbrella. "Look, hon, it's like this. Since your asshole ex left, you've barely had any time to spend with adults. While I think it's admirable that you're so devoted to your daughter's well-being, I also think you need some time with grownups. So I'd like to introduce you to Nathan. That's all. I'm not setting you up or tying him to your bed or anything. It's just dinner." She punctuated her words with a quick squeeze of Gail's forearm.
Gail sighed. "Blind date dinner?"
Kim tilted her head to the side. "Actually I was thinking the four of us. You, me, Nathan, and my mister. If all else fails you and I can decamp to the bathroom and leave the boys to reminsce about the good old Navy days."
"I'll think about it," Gail said, meaning 'no,' and started walking again, a little faster. The subway station was just up ahead, and with it, the end of this conversation.
But Kim knew her too well to let it stand at that. "Just once, Gail," she said, persuasively. "Just once. I dare you. Have some fun."
"You dare me?" Gail gave her a sidelong, skeptical look. "What are we, twelve?"
"Excuse me. We are at least fourteen," Kim said. "I double-dog-dare you. Call me when you're ready to set this up." She darted down into the subway station before Gail could answer.
Gail huffed and went on towards Ivy's daycare center, trying not to be furious with Kim and failing just a little. It wasn't fair, but Kim was right, dammit; not many men were interested in single mothers, and the ones who did get interested were either fathers themselves, or creepy. She already knew this Nathan fell under the first category. She rather hoped he didn't fall under the second.
Damn Kim, anyway. Why did she always have to be right?
Gail tipped her umbrella a bit too far forward and yelped as she got water down her neck. Rain, rain, rain. It seemed like it was always raining for her. It had rained the day she found out she was pregnant, and the day she'd realized that she really could do this; it had rained the day Ivy was born, and the day Brad left, and it would probably be raining on Ivy's birthday this coming Sunday, too. She'd come to expect rain on the days that her life changed.
...maybe she should give this a try. Just once wouldn't necessarily mean anything, and like Kim said, she'd have an escape route. What could it hurt?
It was raining, after all.
And maybe Kim would shut up about it.