alsohawkeye | ataraxion inbox

No doubt Masterpiece Theater will be in receipt of a strongly worded letter about their authenticity just as soon as Kate gets down from this ceiling and off this spaceship. In the meantime, she smiles back. It's a little lopsided and less of a gigantic grin than some earlier but better suited to the moment for it. She nods without hesitating.

"It is."

Maybe he's just officially been in space too long that messing with the gravity controls is within the realm of if not normal, at least possible (and kind of charming). Or maybe he's just officially missing home and all the comforts that come with it. Or maybe-- maybe it's the part where he's pretty sure Kate knows, where even he's not stupid enough to pretend she doesn't - and she seems kind of okay with it.

(That shouldn't be a good thing. It should worry him.)

Whatever it is, it prompts an effort out of him: "So, uh, about last time--"

There's definitely something weirdly normal about this, maybe just the fact that they've found something that's specifically about being on a spaceship but isn't horrifying. (Obviously it should worry her, too, but she listed off the traits of the last couple guys she went out with and put 'vampire' next to them and said 'eh'.)

She turns a little so she's not watching quite so much out the corner of her eye and lifts a brow. It's a prompting expression rather than a warning one, but he may have noticed by now that with her there's at least some chance of mockery pretty much at all times. "Yeah?"

Aidan opens his mouth faintly - closes it and pauses. He's not really sure what's on the tip of his tongue, just that something is. That he should be saying something to her. That he wants to.

His fingers settle absently at her forearm, curling gently there. "Just that I was stupid. And I made a mistake." He shoots her a glance, mouth pulling absently at something else before he flicks his eyes away. No big deal. "Because it was pretty nice then too."

Kate just waits through his awkward pause, squinting away at some dust in the opposite corner of the ceiling or something, disinclined to let him off the hook as easily as speaking up now would. (You are two hundred years old Aidan how do you not have this shit down smooth??)

But that's about as difficult as she's going to be this time, and it's actually a pretty good apology (or whatever) once he gets it out. "I thought so." The emphasis in that agreement is slight, and she lifts her near shoulder in a shrug that bumps it against his. "We could give it another shot some time."

(Look, two hundred years old doesn't actually mean he's stepped up his game in anything other than superficial ways. And this isn't the equivalent of picking up a snack at the bar, Kate.)

The shoulder bump sends them gently drifting; Aidan doesn't bother to course correct, though he keeps her hold on her arm tight enough to keep them lightly meandering in the same direction. Instead he's grinning a little, the corners of his mouth working against it and failing.

"Great." A beat. "I'd like that."

See that? Smooth as velvet.

(CLEARLY but, you know. Not being a snack is also good.)

"Great." Kate drags a toe to keep contact with the floor/ceiling and otherwise allows Aidan to steer their progress. His twitchy little grin tugs at hers and she turns away to examine her nails for a second until she's got it more under control, though the end result is still on the smirky side.

"This is super corny," she says as she turns back, a little apropos of nothing, "But you wouldn't happen to know how to waltz or something like that, would you? Being an old school kind of guy and all? Something about the ceiling..." She gestures vaguely, "They go together in my mind."

Aidan makes a sharp noise, three hundred percent indignation that she'd even consider the possibility that he didn't know how to waltz. "Come on, seriously? What do you take me for?"

Besides, it's a three beat dance. You don't get more basic than that. Aidan shifts his catch on her arm, sliding his own free for a half moment of drifting before he tangles their fingers together. He catches his other hand high on her side, slightly above her waist.

"Sorry, I don't have any decent backing music on me."

Doesn't stop him from taking a moment and then nudging them slightly off the ceiling with a dig of his heel that should - if his calculations are right - send them spinning in some approximation of dancing.

Kate grins wide at his reaction, which obviously is exactly what she'd hoped, affront at being asked included. "You'd be surprised how few guys can ballroom dance these days," she says, half-facetiously, "I guess most schools just don't teach that anymore. Can't imagine why. Luckily, I went to pretentious prep school."

When they've rearranged, her fingers clasped around his and hand set high on his shoulder, she hums a few measures of Brahms in time with their spin around the ceiling. "Where's baroque Don't Stop Believin' when you need it?"

"I'm telling you, I went through a bunch of those library files. At this point I feel like we really will need to find a lute for Medieval Times to get some decent music for this."

The lack of gravity makes dancing harder. Without it, it's really its on kind of thing: not bad, just different - a little weird to get a handle on, but pleasantly ridiculous anyway. "Personally? I prefer a good foxtrot to the waltz anyway."

But trying that without gravity kind of sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

'Pleasantly ridiculous' would be a good tagline for the whole encounter. "We definitely do," she agrees, "Unless one has appeared in her locker already. Maybe there's a music room around here somewhere? There's everything else."

It's mostly just drifting, spinning, tokenly going through the motions, but it's the thought of ceiling-dancing that counts, after all. And it's got them face to face, which Kate's counting as a plus (somehow, despite his face). "How very Prohibition of you. God, we spent forever on the foxtrot in my class. I think the instructor knew everyone was more interested in the tango and wanted to move on so he just kept dragging it out in spite."

"The tango, huh?"

It's a low, stupid kind of question made marginally less so (but no less cheesy) as he tugs her closer. It's not exactly the most correct tango hold, but it's close to one and hey - the thought counts.

"The tango," Kate confirms in even stupider reply. He gets a little flare of a grin when she's tugged close before she leans in his hold, back bending into a pose of almost swooning drama. Tango. She rights herself with a snap and intense eyebrows.

It's a snap that sends them drifting toward the wall and drives a laugh out of him. Or maybe that latter one's due to the intense eyebrowing. Either way by the time they bump into the far wall, Aidan's laughing - fingers catching at the back of her shirt as they knock into the bulkhead.

"Tango's at least fifty percent eyebrows and crazyeyes," she claims with a grin, "I swear that's what I was taught." Colliding with the wall has Kate getting a hold on his shoulder, too, grip curling into his t-shirt in time for the jostling impact and slight rebound that follows. "They've never been quite this effective before."

"What's the other fifty percent? Smoldering?"

He affects his best smolder which - for the record - is maybe slightly passable for about a fraction of a second before he quirks an eyebrow too far, sneers a little too hard. Luckily it doesn't take Aidan long to drop it completely, melting back into an easy grin.

"Oh, definitely," Kate's laugh is light and the bob of her head is somewhere between nod and shake, "That's. Yeah. Definitely key, that look right there. Blue Steel." She bites her lip to keep her grin even a little bit under control, looking at him for a moment before turning to lift her chin towards the door.

"What do you think?" comes with an arch of one dark brow, "Anything else you want to try in zero gee today or should we turn the gravity back on?"

They should turn the gravity back on, get their feet on the ground and sit down and watch what's left of space Rocky. That should definitely be the game plan and he knows it, but then he's bumping gently up against the bulkhead and her and being smart about this is-- hard. Last time (if he even lets himself think about last time) was different. Josh was gone, he'd been wasted and feeling it (the blood and the emptiness of the ship). So yeah, it should be easier to just vote for getting off the ceiling.

Instead Aidan's grin settles, quirking absently into something less broad and more secret. The corner of his mouth pulls faintly. His fingers shift against hers and he shrugs, easy, glancing to her mouth and back to her eyes in a way that might almost be unconscious (it's not).

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Yeah?" Kate maintains eye contact as his shifts, and as her grip on his shirt releases. Fingers tensed as they careened into walls now uncurl and smooth across his shoulder instead, settling nearer to his neck, thumb along his collarbone. Her lips press into a smile, close-mouthed except for one corner hitched up, and her head tilts into a suggestion of a lopsided shrug.

"Well, I mean...I might have a couple," she says, her eyes dropping to his mouth in a look no more subtle than his, "But I did make you a promise. I'd hate to give you the impression I can't be trusted to keep them."

"Oh, well--" He makes a thin sound through his teeth. Shrugs. Whatever, right? Promises are totally made to be broken, Kate. "I mean look, nothing's set in stone right? I like to think I'm pretty forgiving."

He's not. Well, not usually. But this? Aidan shoots a glance to her mouth, absently tipping his head toward hers. It's a minute shift, but noticeable: draws the narrow distance taut. He could totally forgive this.

Good to know your stance on promise-keeping, Aidan. Kate lifts a brow as he claims to be forgiving, but it's a token tease and lowers as he inches nearer. "I mean, there's a pretty easy way around it," she says. She lifts and angles her chin toward him, shaving another fraction off the gap between them, and wets her lips with a flick of her tongue that looks way more calculated than it actually is.

"I only promised I wouldn't try to, soooo...." She lifts her eyes to meet his, and this time the bend in her brow is clearly invitation and challenge (and hoping he won't make her bitch about lack of initiative).

He won't. He might be a renown flake in more than a few notable instances, but there are certain opportunities Aidan makes a habit of not passing up. This? Totally one of them.

He grins - brief and flickering - and then shifts far enough to catch his mouth against hers. There's none of that tentative hovering or any of that, so call it whatever she likes but no: definitely not a lack of initiative as he kisses her.

Well, good. She was sort of regretting coming on too strong last time and determined not to repeat that mistake even if the opportunity to repeat that mistake happened to arise. So initiative is good. But almost as soon as his lips meet hers she pulls her head back the few inches to the ceiling behind her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to watch Space Rocky," she deadpans, with another display of convincing eyebrow-acting, but this time spoiled by the twitchy smirk that tugs at her mouth, "Is that not what we were talking about?"

There's a momentary beat where a real flash of mortification - oh god were they talking about space Rocky? - flashes across her face. His mouth pulls, brow furrowing. "I--"

And okay, right. Don't give him that, Kate. He's kind of sensitive and gullible when it comes to kissing stuff. Aidan wrinkles his nose at her, the quirk of his mouth shifting into a lopsided grin. "Well I mean, sure," he says, playing along for all he's worth (to make up for being an idiot for a few seconds there). "Space Rocky. Way better than anything else we could be doing right now."

Oh my god Aidan. Kate hadn't expected him to actually buy it, and isn't sure whether to laugh or apologize at that (kind of endearing??) moment of panic. She elects to let the smirk widen into a smirky grin and play along back like she totally didn't notice even though it's pretty obvious that she did.

She drapes her arm casually over his shoulder, and has that look like she has a witty reply on the tip of her tongue, but fails to come up with anything that doesn't run the risk of being accidentally mean or isn't just nonsensical or lame, and after a couple seconds of discarding options in her head she gives up. "Way better," is all she says, and lest he have any fear she means it she says it pretty much against his lips as she kisses him.

ataraxion inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wow really i can't believe you're mocking this face

i can't believe anyone could NOT mock that face

wow very rude there's a fyeah tumblr dedicated to this face

i'm going to make one called fyeahsamwitwersfaceisweird.tumblr.com so there

wow so inconsiderate

that face is inconsiderate

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject