[for Elle]

[so_catholic]

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.”

Comments

[beyondtheblonde]

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.

[so_catholic]

"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."

[beyondtheblonde]

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."

[so_catholic]

"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."