xp_logs | Sofia and Jim

This just goes to show that nothing brings out random alliances like an embarrassing situation.

Standing behind a woodshed at a retreat with a suitcase in one hand and opposite yet one more example of how blatantly wrong reality currently was, there was really only one way to react. Namely, not at all. With an inward sigh the instigator rubbed the back of her head with one hand. "So, um. Thanks for coming."

"How could I resist? You managed to convey pitiful. Through a text message." Sitting on what had to be his suitcase, in turn, Sofia gently favored his wounded leg. Balancing was much more difficult when you weighed just enough more that he was a little worried about damaging the frame. "I was quite impressed. Or something. Besides, I would also appreciate clothes I could wear without being mistaken for a lost member of The Police."

Jim, standing in an emergency-loaned robe from the spa and vaguely awed by the intensity of God's hatred for her sanity, nodded in resigned way. "I would like an impenetrable wall of silence between this incident, the students, my girlfriend, the rest of my coworkers, the voices in my head and basically the entire rest of the universe. Since none of that'll happen I'm going to settle for not begging a pair of pants off the headmaster's wife."

He couldn't help but laugh at that, ducking his head to hide the smile with her hair before remembering it wasn't there anymore. Well, not unless she was trying to cover his eyebrow. "I let down the hem on a pair of my cuffed trousers. They should be alright now, and they have some Lycra in them so they're fairly comfortable, but if you wear the ballet flats or sandals, you could probably get away with wearing the longer pair of jeans. I put both of them on top."

The small touch of domesticity was unexpected -- but then, Jim realized as she thought back to Sofia's immaculately decorated apartment, maybe not. The smile that flickered across the woman's face was still crooked despite marginally fuller lips.

"Thank you. I have . . ." Jim looked at the suitcase Sofia was seated on and then her own, which had exactly as much heft as you'd expect luggage packed by a man expecting a two-day trip to have, ". . . jeans and a shirt." After a moment of considering Sofia's normal standards of wardrobe she added, "I'm sorry."

"As long as the t-shirt isn't asking strangers for sex." He was glad he'd kept the wry crack of teeth. "I am not above jeans, Haller. I wore them when I babysat you, I merely prefer business casual for work."

"I meant that after Lorna I'm down to jeans and shirt, singular. I'm a guy. Whatever the universe is trying to insist." She glanced at the suitcase in her hands, then up at Sofia uncertainly. "Okay, so how do we do this . . . oh, right."

The woman put the suitcase on the ground, then pushed it towards Sofia with her foot. The traditional drama of this act was detracted from considerably by the fact that the foot in question was wearing spa slippers, shortly followed by the suitcase refusing to slide across grass and stopping about two feet away.

This was the stuff that bad television sitcoms were made of. Raising his eyebrow slowly at Jim, Sofia allowed himself a slow beat, looking from the suitcase, to Jim and back again. It was for comedy, really. "I think the moment may have been ruined," he said, gently getting to his feet, well, foot. There was a hobble, almost a skip-jump, and Sofia had cleared the path and was sending his luggage in a graceful arc to Jim's feet as her own completed the skid. "Wind mutation to the rescue."

"Yeah," Jim said, deciding operate under the assumption that, like a gender-swap, a blush didn't count if you refused to acknowledge them. "I think it's safe to say rescue was needed. This should hold us both over until we get back at least. Um . . ." Jim gave Sofia a curious look, one eyebrow compressing. "How're you guys going to cover this one with your coworkers?"

Balancing, Sofia lowered himself into a crouch; years of yoga paid off again. There was the tinny crackle of a zipper, and he pulled out the shirt on top, eying it cautiously. "Plaid? Really? If there is Old Spice in here, I will laugh at you." He was suddenly very glad he'd kept his own toiletries, for the most part. "What is there to say? This week I will have a penis. Did you enjoy your facial?"

There were a few seconds before Jim could muster any kind of response. They were awkward.

"Um, you . . . have a point," Jim conceded slowly. "Valid. Also horrifyingly phrased in a way that none of us are going to use as an explanation for the students." Looking at Sofia's scrutiny she added under her breath, a hint of defensiveness skimming the tone, "And the shirt was on sale."

"Of course not. You have a vagina this week," Sofia looked up, his face splitting into a boyish grin. He carefully folded the shirt before replacing it and made an attempt at straightening before giving up and gently rising above the ground, a subtle hover. "I'm sure it goes with your eyes. Eye. Something."

Jim concluded this was definitely a test. And that the correct response would not be the immediate one, which was 'Well, you're shot, so there' no matter how restless the natives were getting. Jim stooped to pick up Sofia's suitcase while gesturing towards the temporary man's. "I may dress badly and have weird hair, but I get the last laugh. I don't have to deal with the existential uncertainty of a change in bust-size." Jim's hand closed around the handle. "Tell me if you need any help getting back. I'll -- um."

The attempt at straightening out had not happened. Jim's effort to lift the bag was honest. The bag did not agree.

There had to be a video camera hiding somewhere. It was the only explanation. Sofia tilted his head and chuckled, a rare sound deep in a wider that usual chest; he'd probably claim that the gender switch made any unusual joy and expressions of it unfair game later on. His, Jim's for the moment, bag lifted into the air and out of her reach. "I think I can figure out the other side of this. Come on, cachorro, I'll walk you home. If you're lucky, I may even kiss you goodnight."

"Thanks. You're slipping into the chivalry pretty well for a first-timer." Jim gave her a crooked smile as she retrieved her own suitcase, more for appearances than anything else. "But as long as I'm dating a ninja you don't get past first base."