Carrot Cake 27, Coffee 15: Intelligence
Title: Intelligence
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 27 (stir), coffee 15 (lantern/flashlight), fresh peaches ("Your telepathy and intuition are at an all-time high today, Leo. You should find it easier than usual to tune in to others' thoughts and feelings.").
Word Count: 1415
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Ivy is a bitch but still makes a friend.
Notes: Takes place spring 2010, obviously.
"You're gay?"
Ivy shot her schoolmate and coworker Tiffany an irritated look from her precarious balance atop a ladder. "Yeah? What about it?"
"You're gay," Tiffany repeated, and sat down hard on a stepstool. "I can't believe it, you're gay."
"Tiffany, I'm busy. Either shut up or say something I don't already know." Ivy shelved the book she held and climbed down to get the next one. She hated heights; better to grab all the stuff that was high up first and get it over with.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really surprised," Tiffany said. "It's not that I'm homophobic or anything."
Ivy actually could believe that. Tiffany was sweet, one of the sweetest people she knew, but dumb. As was being amply demonstrated. "Don't you have things to do?" she asked, climbing back up the ladder. "Like, y'know, work?"
Tiffany ignored that. "It's just that you don't look gay," she explained, in what she probably thought was an eminently reasonable tone.
"Okay, fine," Ivy said. "Help me shelve this cart. What do you mean, I don't look gay?"
"You just don't," Tiffany said. "I have a feeling about these things. Here, get down, I'll get the ones up there and you can pass them up."
Dumb, but sweet. "Thanks," Ivy said, and climbed down again. "You do know gaydar's not a real thing?"
"Says you," Tiffany said, on her way up. "I can always tell the gay ones. Like that guy on Glee."
Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Kurt is an offensive stereotype."
"No, not that guy," she said. "He's annoying. I meant the weird guy with the rhyming name, who had sex with Sue. He's gay."
"I don't really watch Glee," Ivy said, which was not an outright lie, honestly, because she only paid attention when Quinn was on screen-- she had a terrible crush on Dianna Agron and was rather hoping she'd turn out to be gay-- and therefore really didn't have any idea what Tiffany was talking about. "Who do you mean?"
"The guy with three names," Tiffany said. "Neil something."
Ivy felt her eyebrows hit her hairline. "Neil Patrick Harris? Neil Patrick Harris was on Glee? I have got to start watching it." Or watch the episode she'd downloaded. Not the point.
"Is he someone important?" Tiffany asked vaguely. "Pass up some more books."
Ivy shrugged, and handed up the next two. "He's cool," she said. "I like his work. My brother's really into Joss Whedon and he likes to spread the things he likes and... well, he's cool."
"Oh!" Tiffany said, startling Ivy, who fortunately had already let go of the last book. "Dr. Horrible! I knew I'd seen him somewhere. Anyway, I know he's gay."
Tiffany had seen Dr. Horrible? "Guessing right on an openly gay actor does not a gaydar make."
"I knew he was gay before he said so," Tiffany said, unruffled. "Anyway, I didn't guess right on you. Now I have to change all my lists."
Ivy, in the middle of shelving some of the books on lower shelves, froze mid-motion. "Your lists?"
"Don't you make lists?"
Ivy wrinkled her nose. She didn't like lists; they felt too much like boundaries to her. "No. My little sister does, though."
Tiffany glanced under her upraised arm at Ivy. "She does? What kind of lists?"
Ivy shrugged. "I don't know, whatever she wants to. She says they help her make sense of the world."
"That's sort of the same reason I do them," Tiffany said, and Ivy kept a comment about their efficacy or lack thereof behind her teeth, not least because she was pretty sure that Tiffany didn't know what efficacy meant. "Is that the last of the high-ups?"
"I think so," Ivy said. "Keep talking about those lists."
Tiffany shrugged while climbing down the ladder, which Ivy had to admit was a fairly impressive feat of agility. "It's nothing important. They're just something I do to sort things out. Like, you know, pros and cons of dating somebody or something. Those kinds of lists."
"Right," Ivy said, rather dubiously. "And what sort of lists am I on?"
"People who should be dating," Tiffany said. "You went on there after I figured out Aaron was actually your brother and not your boyfriend."
Aaron would've been squicked at that one. Ivy just laughed. "Yeah, that happens a lot more often than you'd think. What makes you think I'm not dating?"
Tiffany considered that one for a while, picking up a stack of books to shelve as she did so. "Oh, I don't know. You're too wound up. And too relaxed, at the same time. If you follow me."
Ivy didn't, and said so.
"You know, like you've never been laid in your life." Tiffany shrugged. "I don't know, it's hard to define. But people who're dating don't look like that. At least, not people who are in decent relationships."
Which was more sense than Ivy had heard out of Tiffany all week. "How'd you figure all this out?" she asked.
"I just watch people," Tiffany said, shelving a few more books. "You know, I said I'd help you, not do your job."
Belatedly, Ivy started shelving again. "I don't get it, though. How'd you see so much? I mean, I look at people all the time and I don't see anything like that."
Tiffany paused, and straightened her shoulders carefully before she said, "Well, that's because you don't really watch them."
Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Of course I look. Watching and looking are the same thing, Tiffany."
There was another pause, during which Ivy was conscious of having been a bitch.
"I know I'm not as smart as you, Ivy," Tiffany said, finally, quietly. "But you don't need to treat me like I'm dumb."
"Yeah," Ivy said, and cleared her throat. "Sorry, Tiffany. That was bitchy of me."
Tiffany shrugged, and went on as if it hadn't happened. "You look but you don't watch," she said. "Looking, you just look at people, you don't really notice anything. When you watch somebody, you... guess. You try and understand them just by looking at them. You don't really do that. And that's okay, you don't have to. Just so long as you understand that you don't do it."
"I do understand--" Ivy started, and then broke off, and shelved Steinbeck through Steinway before she let herself open her mouth again. "No, I don't. Or I didn't. Maybe I... sort of do now."
"It's okay," Tiffany said, and smiled at her. Ivy had the sneaking feeling it was so she'd know she was forgiven. "It takes a while to get it. But you're really smart, so I know you will."
"Right," Ivy said, feeling more awkward and guilty by the second. She shelved a few more books (Stryek through Tabron) then asked abruptly, "Hey, do you get off at the same time as me?"
Tiffany tilted her head to the side. "I think so," she said. "Five o'clock, right?"
"Yeah," Ivy said. "Want to go out to dinner? My roommate and I and her best friend are going, and I'd really rather not be a third wheel." Originally she'd been planning to skip it, actually. But... this could help. If Tiffany wanted to go.
"Hmm. Your roommate's Prudence, right? And Queenie?" Tiffany waited just long enough for Ivy to nod. "I'd love to go. Queenie owes me a drink." She sent Ivy a shy, sidelong look. "And I've always kind of wanted to get to know you."
Guilt again, but under it a little spark of pleasure. Ivy smiled back. "Well, that's good," she replied, "because I'd love to get to know you too. But on one condition."
Tiffany's mouth twisted, but her voice was still perfectly pleasant when she said, "Yeah?"
Ivy put on her most serious expression. "Promise to stomp me if I start being an arrogant bitch again."
Tiffany stared at her for a moment, then giggled.
"I mean it!" Ivy said, above the giggles. "That wasn't cool of me and I don't want to do it again. And you're good at catching it." And making her feel really guilty about doing it, instead of defensive, which was always good.
"Okay, okay," Tiffany said, and got control over her giggling. "I promise. You're not usually arrogant, though. You just know you're smart."
"There's a difference?" Ivy grinned. "Okay. Five o'clock. Be there or be square. My treat on the drinks."
"I'll be there," Tiffany said, and beamed.
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 27 (stir), coffee 15 (lantern/flashlight), fresh peaches ("Your telepathy and intuition are at an all-time high today, Leo. You should find it easier than usual to tune in to others' thoughts and feelings.").
Word Count: 1415
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Ivy is a bitch but still makes a friend.
Notes: Takes place spring 2010, obviously.
"You're gay?"
Ivy shot her schoolmate and coworker Tiffany an irritated look from her precarious balance atop a ladder. "Yeah? What about it?"
"You're gay," Tiffany repeated, and sat down hard on a stepstool. "I can't believe it, you're gay."
"Tiffany, I'm busy. Either shut up or say something I don't already know." Ivy shelved the book she held and climbed down to get the next one. She hated heights; better to grab all the stuff that was high up first and get it over with.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really surprised," Tiffany said. "It's not that I'm homophobic or anything."
Ivy actually could believe that. Tiffany was sweet, one of the sweetest people she knew, but dumb. As was being amply demonstrated. "Don't you have things to do?" she asked, climbing back up the ladder. "Like, y'know, work?"
Tiffany ignored that. "It's just that you don't look gay," she explained, in what she probably thought was an eminently reasonable tone.
"Okay, fine," Ivy said. "Help me shelve this cart. What do you mean, I don't look gay?"
"You just don't," Tiffany said. "I have a feeling about these things. Here, get down, I'll get the ones up there and you can pass them up."
Dumb, but sweet. "Thanks," Ivy said, and climbed down again. "You do know gaydar's not a real thing?"
"Says you," Tiffany said, on her way up. "I can always tell the gay ones. Like that guy on Glee."
Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Kurt is an offensive stereotype."
"No, not that guy," she said. "He's annoying. I meant the weird guy with the rhyming name, who had sex with Sue. He's gay."
"I don't really watch Glee," Ivy said, which was not an outright lie, honestly, because she only paid attention when Quinn was on screen-- she had a terrible crush on Dianna Agron and was rather hoping she'd turn out to be gay-- and therefore really didn't have any idea what Tiffany was talking about. "Who do you mean?"
"The guy with three names," Tiffany said. "Neil something."
Ivy felt her eyebrows hit her hairline. "Neil Patrick Harris? Neil Patrick Harris was on Glee? I have got to start watching it." Or watch the episode she'd downloaded. Not the point.
"Is he someone important?" Tiffany asked vaguely. "Pass up some more books."
Ivy shrugged, and handed up the next two. "He's cool," she said. "I like his work. My brother's really into Joss Whedon and he likes to spread the things he likes and... well, he's cool."
"Oh!" Tiffany said, startling Ivy, who fortunately had already let go of the last book. "Dr. Horrible! I knew I'd seen him somewhere. Anyway, I know he's gay."
Tiffany had seen Dr. Horrible? "Guessing right on an openly gay actor does not a gaydar make."
"I knew he was gay before he said so," Tiffany said, unruffled. "Anyway, I didn't guess right on you. Now I have to change all my lists."
Ivy, in the middle of shelving some of the books on lower shelves, froze mid-motion. "Your lists?"
"Don't you make lists?"
Ivy wrinkled her nose. She didn't like lists; they felt too much like boundaries to her. "No. My little sister does, though."
Tiffany glanced under her upraised arm at Ivy. "She does? What kind of lists?"
Ivy shrugged. "I don't know, whatever she wants to. She says they help her make sense of the world."
"That's sort of the same reason I do them," Tiffany said, and Ivy kept a comment about their efficacy or lack thereof behind her teeth, not least because she was pretty sure that Tiffany didn't know what efficacy meant. "Is that the last of the high-ups?"
"I think so," Ivy said. "Keep talking about those lists."
Tiffany shrugged while climbing down the ladder, which Ivy had to admit was a fairly impressive feat of agility. "It's nothing important. They're just something I do to sort things out. Like, you know, pros and cons of dating somebody or something. Those kinds of lists."
"Right," Ivy said, rather dubiously. "And what sort of lists am I on?"
"People who should be dating," Tiffany said. "You went on there after I figured out Aaron was actually your brother and not your boyfriend."
Aaron would've been squicked at that one. Ivy just laughed. "Yeah, that happens a lot more often than you'd think. What makes you think I'm not dating?"
Tiffany considered that one for a while, picking up a stack of books to shelve as she did so. "Oh, I don't know. You're too wound up. And too relaxed, at the same time. If you follow me."
Ivy didn't, and said so.
"You know, like you've never been laid in your life." Tiffany shrugged. "I don't know, it's hard to define. But people who're dating don't look like that. At least, not people who are in decent relationships."
Which was more sense than Ivy had heard out of Tiffany all week. "How'd you figure all this out?" she asked.
"I just watch people," Tiffany said, shelving a few more books. "You know, I said I'd help you, not do your job."
Belatedly, Ivy started shelving again. "I don't get it, though. How'd you see so much? I mean, I look at people all the time and I don't see anything like that."
Tiffany paused, and straightened her shoulders carefully before she said, "Well, that's because you don't really watch them."
Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Of course I look. Watching and looking are the same thing, Tiffany."
There was another pause, during which Ivy was conscious of having been a bitch.
"I know I'm not as smart as you, Ivy," Tiffany said, finally, quietly. "But you don't need to treat me like I'm dumb."
"Yeah," Ivy said, and cleared her throat. "Sorry, Tiffany. That was bitchy of me."
Tiffany shrugged, and went on as if it hadn't happened. "You look but you don't watch," she said. "Looking, you just look at people, you don't really notice anything. When you watch somebody, you... guess. You try and understand them just by looking at them. You don't really do that. And that's okay, you don't have to. Just so long as you understand that you don't do it."
"I do understand--" Ivy started, and then broke off, and shelved Steinbeck through Steinway before she let herself open her mouth again. "No, I don't. Or I didn't. Maybe I... sort of do now."
"It's okay," Tiffany said, and smiled at her. Ivy had the sneaking feeling it was so she'd know she was forgiven. "It takes a while to get it. But you're really smart, so I know you will."
"Right," Ivy said, feeling more awkward and guilty by the second. She shelved a few more books (Stryek through Tabron) then asked abruptly, "Hey, do you get off at the same time as me?"
Tiffany tilted her head to the side. "I think so," she said. "Five o'clock, right?"
"Yeah," Ivy said. "Want to go out to dinner? My roommate and I and her best friend are going, and I'd really rather not be a third wheel." Originally she'd been planning to skip it, actually. But... this could help. If Tiffany wanted to go.
"Hmm. Your roommate's Prudence, right? And Queenie?" Tiffany waited just long enough for Ivy to nod. "I'd love to go. Queenie owes me a drink." She sent Ivy a shy, sidelong look. "And I've always kind of wanted to get to know you."
Guilt again, but under it a little spark of pleasure. Ivy smiled back. "Well, that's good," she replied, "because I'd love to get to know you too. But on one condition."
Tiffany's mouth twisted, but her voice was still perfectly pleasant when she said, "Yeah?"
Ivy put on her most serious expression. "Promise to stomp me if I start being an arrogant bitch again."
Tiffany stared at her for a moment, then giggled.
"I mean it!" Ivy said, above the giggles. "That wasn't cool of me and I don't want to do it again. And you're good at catching it." And making her feel really guilty about doing it, instead of defensive, which was always good.
"Okay, okay," Tiffany said, and got control over her giggling. "I promise. You're not usually arrogant, though. You just know you're smart."
"There's a difference?" Ivy grinned. "Okay. Five o'clock. Be there or be square. My treat on the drinks."
"I'll be there," Tiffany said, and beamed.