so_catholic | [for Elle]

It’s not the first time Danny’s faked a medical emergency to escape a date but it’s definitely the only time said date has turned up at the same bar as him when he’s supposed to be elbow-deep in placenta.

He doesn’t not like Amanda. He just likes foreign places, the Latino Grammies and low cal muffins more, which doesn’t exactly bode well for any kind of future with her. Maybe if that future involved a permanent white noise machine and separate cities they’d stand a chance. Right now, Danny would settle for separate drinking establishments but it’s clearly too late for that. She’s clocked him not far from the dance floor, a look of surprise, then confusion, then fury on her face, and in the heat of the moment, he chooses more lies over honesty or an apology.

He makes a beeline towards the bar, only stopping when she yells out his name over the music in the same tone she’d used to send back five different appetisers a few nights before on their first (second? third? they all run into one) date.

“Breathe! Breathe!” He latches onto the arm of the nearest woman to him, a lithe blond but that’s all he notices. He’s too busy Lamaze breathing at her, which irritates him no end because it makes him sound like Deslaurier. Only medical intervention truly aids a woman during childbirth but desperate times… “Oh boy, this baby’s coming! Amanda, hey!” The forced cheer is overshadowed by the dramatic gesturing at the blond (clearly-not-pregnant) woman. “Just dealing with this medical emergency. Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll have this child out of you in no time.” He turns his body in towards her, lowering his voice. “Please help me.”

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"Law. Wow." The surprise in his voice is borne out of an inherent patriarchy that is so deep-set he's almost unaware of it. Danny has such strong and self-taught ideals about what a man should be, having stepped up to that role at a too young age, that he can be kind of blinkered when it comes to feminism and equality and all that new age wisdom. Female pilots? No thanks. Female lawyers? Ehh...

"That's cool. You and Mindy been buddies for long?" He asks with a sniff, not wanting to sound particularly interested. "I mean, uh, which tier are you in? The best friends tier or the uh..." He purses his lips mid-sentence. He doesn't actually know what other tiers there are. Mindy'd never mentioned them.

Wherever that wow comes from, Elle doesn't care. She just enjoys the reaction. At first, she didn't care, because it wasn't like she was super invested in law school; the whole point was winning back Warner. Then her pride flared up and it stung when people acted like she was stupid, because she knows it comes from her being all pink and girly, like her super femininity blinds them to her intellect. Now it's just entertaining. She knows she's good. There's a pleasure that comes from surprising other people with it.

"Besties," she says warmly. "Mindy was the person who found me here. I would have been completely lost without her."

Danny can't help but envy Elle a little. Had Mindy been the first one to find him, he would have been spared a lot of panic and mistrust during those first few hours. That said, her presence wouldn't have saved the unfortunate lamp posts of Darrow from his angry fists, so maybe it's a good thing Mindy hadn't been there. He doubts she could have made him calm down any faster.

"She's a good kid," he says genuinely, ruffling a sweaty palm through his hair. "I'm sorry we're not meeting under more normal circumstances," he adds, voice tinged with embarrassment. "Had I known you two knew each other I would have accosted some other woman in there. My first impressions are usually...less creepy."

A good kid. Elle almost laughs. He can't be that much older than Mindy, attitude aside. It's nice, though. At least, the intention is.

"No, it's fine," she says. "At least I get to meet you. And trust me, I've met guys who were way creepier." This time, she does laugh, shaking her head. Guys come up with the weirdest excuses to talk to girls sometimes. "But take it from me, it is way easier just to let someone down gently. Making excuses and making a girl think she has a chance is — forgive me for saying it, but... well, mean."

Danny's hand stills in his hair, then moves to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly. "Yeah?"

The last time he'd let someone down gently, giant photos of his genitals had been exhibited around New York City for every Tom, Dic--everyone to see. Danny much prefers the avoidance technique. Ignore something for long enough and it has to go away at some point. His theory isn't fool-proof though, even he knows that. Some things are proving impossible to shake off, even in Darrow.

"In my experience honesty isn't much kinder."

Elle's quiet a moment, thinking about Warner. He'd told her the truth, hadn't he? It had been her delusion as much as his behavior that made her think they would get married one day. Honesty hadn't worked too well on her.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," she says. "But at least you know you tried. And sometimes it's faster, 'cause, like, I know people that will just keep calling for months. Good luck with her, though."

Danny cracks a smile at that. "Women don't actually do that. Call for months." His face drops slowly and he looks away as he considers Amanda's behaviour to date. His cell phone is crammed full of text messages and voicemails already. And sure, she's keen and needy and over-excitable and Danny doesn't think twice before calling her 'crazy', but even she's not oblivious enough to ignore the hints for months, right. His gaze draws back to Elle's. "Do they?"

Elle pulls a face. "Sometimes," she says. "I had this sorority sister who was so hung up on her ex, she just would not accept they were over. She would stalk him on Facebook and show up where he was gonna be like it was a coincidence. It was so sad." She shakes her head. It's not like she was any better, honestly, following Warner to Harvard, and he couldn't have been clearer about her nonexistent chances.

"Stalk, stalk on... See, this is why I hate the facebooks. Fax machines, now those were our downfall," Danny insists with a firm look, kind of like a mildy irritated professor educating his student. "Suddenly writing to someone or picking up a telephone and talking to them wasn't good enough anymore. We had to have a machine deliver us a letter. And now? Now we gotta put up with emails and text messages and facebooks and blogs. You can't get any peace." At some point during his rant Amanda and her friends step out of the bar and Danny's suddenly talking at his feet, arms hugged around himself and hand attempting to shield his face. "I mean, that's just my opinion. Being on the line, those guys in San Jose, that's to blame for all this."

There are so many things wrong with what he's saying that Elle decides to let it go. She gets the gist, that's what matters. "Oh, well, I like it," she says. "It made it a lot easier when I was on a different schedule and time zone than all my friends back home —" She stops, glancing over her shoulder when she realizes he's trying to hide. Eyes widening when she realizes why that's the case, she turns a little to put her back more firmly toward the women leaving the bar. It's doubtful they'll recognize her, at least, but she doesn't want to get told off just because she played nice with a stranger. "Just play it cool. She won't notice."

"I--I am playing it cool." Danny clears his throat, shifting his weight on his feet, but not daring to uncover his face. Glancing up for a second, he opens a gap between his fingers, peeking through, then closes them again and lowers his head back down. "Aaah, I'm going to Hell," he admits on a rackety sigh. "Say goodbye to Mindy from me. It was great meeting you."

[for Elle]

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