Date Night

[intheheart]

Title: Date Night
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Ahava gets ready for a date. Duncan helps.
Date: Spring 1998
Notes: Writing people as close as these two is nice, sometimes.
Warnings: one sexist slur, oblique discussion of sexual assault. Also teenagers being teenagers and possibly mention of underage sexual activity.



Duncan really didn't know why he did this. It wasn't like he was a fashionista-- or whatever the male equivalent was. Much as he liked spending time with Ahava, watching her try on dresses was not particularly enthralling. Watching her get ready for a date was even less so.

Still, when she asked as she always did, he always came over and helped her get dressed.

"What do you think?" she asked, emerging from her closet. She curtsied, grinned at him, and spun in a careful circle.

From his position seated on her plush pink coverlet, Duncan eyed her dress, which was simple, black, and way too small, and shook his head. "I think no."

Ahava raised her eyebrows, then turned to examine herself in the mirror, spreading the skirt around her legs. "Why not? Too formal?"

"That's one way of putting it," he agreed. "Another would be skanky."

She whirled, spinning precisely on one heel in a way that somehow managed to convey her intense desire to grind it on his foot. "You do not," she said, in measured tones, "get to use that word. Ever."

He put up both hands in surrender, contrite. "Okay. I'm sorry. Didn't know it was that bad. But that dress is a bit... um. Revealing?"

Ahava eyed him for another moment, then nodded acceptance and turned back to the mirror, this time fussing with the collar. "I guess. My dad would probably hate it."

Judging from her cheerful tone, that was probably not a negative. Mr. Jackson would totally blame him for the dress, too.

"It's a second date, Havey," Duncan said, in his most reasonable tones. "Aren't you going to a movie?"

"Yeah," she said, and smoothed her hands down the hips, then sighed. "Too much?"

"Way," he said. "Way, way, way."

She pouted at herself, then pulled her hair away from the back of her neck. "Fine. Unzip me. I just really wanted to wear this dress finally.

Duncan heaved himself off the bed and pulled the zipper down, then shoved Ahava towards her closet. "Next time, I guess."

She nodded. "We'll go someplace fancy. And French. I've always wanted someone to buy me French food." She vanished into the depths of her closet again.

He sat back down on the bed and pulled his feet up, crossing his legs. "It's cuisine, not food."

"What's the difference?"

"Price, mostly." Duncan rubbed his hands over his face. "You want to grab lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure." She came out of the closet, pulling her hair back. "What do you think of this one?"

He looked up and looked her over-- strapless white sundress with red roses, and a striped elastic band holding it up. "Cute."

She smiled. "Excellent. Everything that's cute is better." She bounced to the mirror again and fluffed at her hair. "The strappy red sandals, you think? Good thing I painted my toenails."

"Havey," Duncan said, "please stop talking about your shoes."

Ahava grinned at him in the mirror. "Why? Are they your Kryptonite? Shoes, shoes, shoes!"

He laughed, and fell back on the bed as if struck. "No, no! Not the shoes!"

She spun, climbed up on the bed, and started tickling him unmercifully. "Stilettos, kitten heels, ballet flats!"

"Ahhh!" He put his hands over his eyes and started laughing harder. "Havey, stop!"

She tickled him for another couple of seconds, then let up and sat back, brushing her hair away from her face again. "Had enough?"

"I yield," he said, and dropped his hands to the side. "Seriously, though, you look cute."

"Awesome." She stretched over to her bedstand, grabbed her brush, and shoved it into his hands. She'd been letting it grow, and it was almost to her waist now. "Here, brush my hair. You think I should wear makeup?"

Obediently, Duncan pulled her hair back over her shoulders and began brushing it, careful to be gentle. "How much?"

She shrugged, tipping her head back. "Dunno. I was thinking lipstick, maybe some eyeshadow. And foundation, of course. Got to cover up this zit."

"What zit?" He found a tangle near her ear, and picked it apart with his fingers.

"This one on my-- ow-- on my forehead." He could practically hear her making a face. "Of course it shows up the morning before a date. Of course."

"It hates you," he said, and shrugged. "Don't see why not. Just don't go for that scary black stuff. I don't even know why you bought that."

"The better to freak you out with, duh." She laughed. "No, seriously, though, I was thinking about the red stuff I got last month. Remember, when we had that huge fight about our English team project?"

He didn't really remember the lipstick, but the fight was hard to forget. "Yeah," he said. "Bright red?"

She shook her head, and hissed when he pulled her hair as a result. "More pinky. Like the dress. It should coordinate, but not be matchy-matchy."

Not that he knew what she meant by that. "Okay. Sounds good. I wouldn't bother with much, though. He's not going to be seeing a whole lot of you."

Ahava snickered. "Depends on how nice he is to me. Am I detangled yet?"

"Yep." Duncan handed the brush over her shoulder. "Havey, are you a virgin?"

It was a measure of how close they were that she only gave him a narrow look before apparently deciding he was serious. "Yes," she said. "Technically. Why?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Just... worried. I mean, you're not doing anything you don't want to, right?"

"As if," Ahava said, and shook her head. "I'm fine, Dunc. Really. I can handle these boys."

He twisted his mouth, and looked at her, so pretty and confident in her red and white sundress. "Ahava," he said. "What if you can't?"

She looked at him for a long minute, then exhaled through her nose. "I know you're only worried about me," she said, "so I'm going to tell you this. I have mace, I take precautions, and I don't date boys who think they have a right to me. And also? It would not be my fault if anything happened to me."

"Of course not!" Duncan yelped, shocked. "Havey, I didn't think that. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you at all."

She softened, and smiled at him. "I know. But seriously, keep the worry down. I will be fine. Besides, can you see Rob trying anything? My Rob?"

Rob, who was so in awe of Ahava that he treated her like a fragile china statuette. "No," he said. "But I also think you're going to dump him soon."

Ahava buffed her nails on her dress, and examined them. "Maybe. But not until after prom. He's a nice kid, and he deserves a nice time. I'll probably just tell him I don't want a long-distance relationship."

Duncan smiled up at her. "You know, you're a nice person under all that pretty."

She looked down her nose at him. "Pretty," she said, loftily, "does not a mean person make. Now go find my red sandals."

"Whatever you say, your highness," he said, and got up.