xp_logs | [log] Marie & Doug, backdated to last Saturday. (Reply)

Not a date. Skating and being silly in New York. Just part of the trip out and back home covered.

After lunch, Marie went back to her room to change. Her hair was getting long enough to be unruly at times and she tucked it back behind her ears with barettes. It wasn't too hard to decide what to wear. A pair of sensible, warm tights, a skirt, boots, and a cashmere sweater under her warm winter coat. Gloves, the lined ones, and a spare set, and a silk scarf that matched her sweater. She looked... nice, she decided. Like someone's friend. She added a little lipstick to brighten things up and declared herself ready. Skates in her bag, keys in her pocket, she headed to Doug's room to get him.

Doug tied the laces of a pair of hockey skates together and straightened his Colorado Avalanche jersey. Not that he had anything resembling talent when it came to hockey, but a few years of youth league playing had turned him into a fan, and besides, hockey skates were more manly looking than ice skates. Grabbing his wallet from the desk, he slid it into his flannel-lined jeans and stuffed a pair of thin cotton gloves into a stocking hat. Then he sat down on his bed to stress out.

Marie knocked lightly on Doug's door. "Hey, you ready to go?" she called out.

Doug took a deep breath and remembered to pick up Marie's belated Christmas present on the way to the door. He opened it and smiled. "All set. Which car are we taking?"

"Hey, you look prepared," she said with a smile. "The 4x4. Storm said she didn't mind me using it while she was here, so I've been using it while she's gone. I keep it serviced. Hmm... should I have brought a hockey stick?" she teased.

Doug chuckled. "I played a little bit as a kid. I'm still a fan. I get a little crazy around Stanley Cup time." He plucked at the jersey. "This was a Christmas present a few years ago."

"You look cute," she said, looking over her shoulder as she led the way to the garage. "Very athletic. I just learned how to skate after I came here. I'm still not very good."

Doug grinned. "Well, I stopped playing after it became apparent that I'm only barely coordinated enough to skate backward, much less skate and use a hockey stick." Hopping into the Jeep, he threw his skates and the present in the back and bounced up and down like a little kid, full of energy. "I'm really excited. I've seen people skating in Rockefeller Center on TV a bunch of times, and I can't wait to do it myself."

Marie laughed, delighted by his enthusiasm. "It's never been a big deal for me," she admitted. "However, the company makes it worth anticipation. So, skating and maybe some wandering and dinner and back by curfew," she suggested, carefully backing the Jeep out of the garage. "I'm just loving the getting out of the house. Not in a hurry to get back."

Doug leaned his head back against his headrest. "Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain groundskeeper and ceiling leaks, would it?" He smiled to take the edge out of it.

She laughed. "Oh, I'd forgotten about that, honestly. I have better things to worry about. And I ask you, does my ass look big enough to cause a leak in the attic from sitting on the porch roof?"

Doug chuckled along with her. "I plead the fifth on that one. It's been my experience that when a girl asks a guy a question that touches in any way on weight, the guy can never come up with the right answer." ~I've also been trying very hard to be a gentleman and not stare at your ass or anything like that, thanks...~ Doug rolled his eyes at his own internal foibles.

"Well, you'll have to tell me some time when you figure it out," she said. "How've you been doing lately? Going to apply for the position of school counsellor?" She winked at him.

Doug shrugged. "I'm not in a big hurry to have all kinds of responsibility. I mean, I like helping people, and I'm more than willing to be an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on for my friends, but no official job title for me, thanks. Too much pressure."

Marie smiled. "I was being a little silly. Honestly, I hope we get someone a little older and more experienced in. Taking care of us is a heck of a job." She reached over and patted his knee. "Even with all the helpers to pick up the loose ends."

Doug nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I can only do so much. Plus, if I'm the guy everyone goes to, who do _I_ go to?"

"You could talk to me," she said, casting him a worried look.

~Talk to you about how I really feel? Riiiiight.~ Doug forced a smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Maybe you don't have the hang of this friends thing yet, at least the two-way street part," she said, only half-joking. "I'm tougher than I look, you know. If you need to talk, I'm not exactly going to fall apart."

Doug chuckled. "Oh, I know you're tough. Tougher than me, certainly."

Marie shook her head. "It's all relative. Not big on the judging here. Besides, everyone needs to lean on someone. Sometimes they just need practice at it is all."

Doug smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I could definitely some practice at that. I'm good at helping others, but sometimes it's hard for me to open up. Some things more than others."

"When you run out of steam, you can come find me," she offered. "Any time, and I mean that. God knows I've had my two am crises of faith and needed to go running to someone."

Doug looked out the window and smiled slightly self-mockingly. ~And what if it's about my feelings for you? Then what?~ Looking back at Marie, he smiled more sincerely. "That means a lot. Thanks."

"Hey." They stopped at a light and she turned to look at him. "Doug..."

Doug quirked his head to one side, curious. "Hm?"

"Whatever it is... it's only that bad because you're not talking about it. Trust me."

~I don't think I could make the words come out if I wanted to, Em. Plus, if it ruined our friendship, it really would be that bad.~ Doug tried to smile reassuringly. "It's nothing, really."

She shook her head and turned her attention back to the road, smiling a little. "It's not. But whenever you're ready. I'll let you off the hook, though. I hate when people push me too."

Doug slumped his shoulders. "I...thanks, Em."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's okay, whatever it is. Really. And we're going to have fun today. Guaranteed."

Doug brightened. "Sounds good. Bring on the fun!"

Insert day of skating, goofing around, and having fun here.

Doug held the door open for Marie as they both came in from the cold. Stamping his feet to warm them up a bit, he peeled off his hat, coat, scarf, and gloves and dropped them in an untidy pile with his skates.

Marie pulled her coat off and hung it in the closet then ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. "Wow... it's finally really /winter/ out there," she said, smiling. "Glad it wasn't that cold when we were skating."

Doug started to pick up his pile of outerwear and hung it up, leaving the skates in the bottom of the closet to pick up later. "Well, it was light out, plus all that physical exertion tends to keep you a little warmer, too." Pulling Marie's gift-wrapped present from an inside pocket of his coat, he began wandering out of the entryway.

"There is that," she agreed, picking up her bag and following him. "Besides, having fun makes it warmer too."

Doug grinned. Fluffing his fingers through slightly sweaty hair, he stretched his arms wide and sighed contentedly. "It's good to be home, though. It's kinda amazing, how quick you start to think of this place as home."

"I know." She looked at him with an affectionate smile. "It kind of creeps up on you and then you say the word and it sounds about right. And it is good to be back."

Doug basked in the warm glow of Marie's smile, content to not really say anything at all. Not that he necessarily could, as his higher brain functions tended to go offline when she smiled at him. For lack of conversation, he handed over the gift-wrapped package in his hand. "Um. Present. It was supposed to be for Christmas, but..."

Marie took it and sat down on the stairs. She patted the space next to her. "Who cares? Not me. Sit. I have something for you too."

Doug blushed. "You do?" He stopped short, realizing it'd be sort of hypocritical to say she didn't have to get him anything. And he certainly wasn't going to mention his vague daydreams of a gift he would really like...

"Of course." She pulled out a package and handed it over. "I love giving presents, actually... I'm just not keen on the whole thing where I have to give them on the right day."

Doug grinned. "I know the feeling. For the really important people, sometimes it's hard to find the right thing in time."

"Exactly. But the important people, you're thinking about them all the time anyway, and they know it." She unwrapped the gift carefully.

Doug fidgeted. "I hope you like it. I happened to go snooping through your bookshelf that night you made me dinner."

"Oh, you fink," she said teasingly, and finished unwrapping. "Oh, I don't have this, you're right!" She turned the book over in her hands, a hardbound copy of /Sonnets from the Portuguese/. "I just have some of her poetry in a collection. Thanks." She leaned over and hugged him warmly.

Doug smiled. "I spent a summer working at this really great bookstore in Denver called The Tattered Cover. It's an old warehouse that is filled with books. Four levels, plus there are even bookcases all along the stairways. I still have a few friends there who get me good discounts on stuff."

"Well, I'm sure I could come up with a reason to go to Denver some time," Marie said, eyes sparkling at the thought of all the books. "I don't know if you could get me to come home, though..."

Doug's eyes twinkled in response. "I sometimes wonder how I managed to pry myself away from that place after working there every day for a summer." Taking care with the paper, he turned Marie's present over in his hands and began to open it.

She put her chin on his shoulder, watching his hands. "I wonder too. You're a man of fortitude, that's for certain."

Doug chuckled. "I dunno 'bout that..." ~I go weak in the knees every time I'm near you. That's not fortitude.~ Opening the paper, he found a bound volume of The Watchmen. "Oooh..." came the response as he flipped open. "I've heard about this, but I've never actually read it."

"I saw it the other day and thought it was kind of... apt... for the likes of us, you know?"

Doug nodded. "I'll have to read to figure out, but I'll take your word for it."

"Good." She gave him a little hug and then sat back, folding the wrapping paper in her lap. "I had fun today... I really did. As in... forget everything else kind of fun. Thanks."

Doug tidied up the paper from his present, needing something to do with his hands. "I'm glad I could help, Marie. I meant everything I said to you about wanting to help, and it not being about pity."

"I know. It means a lot to me. It's not often I get to just... be myself." She smiled a little shyly. "It's no one's fault, I'm just not good at it. But it seems to me that trying to fake anything around you is probably pretty useless.'

Doug smiled back, fairly shyly as well. "It's good to have someone you can be yourself with, without pretense. And this body language thing is far from perfect. Some people are easier to read than others, and usually only in certain situations."

"Really?" She looked at him curiously. "Can you read me easily?"

Doug shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I could probably tell if you were lying to me about something, that seems to be one I can usually spot. But stuff like how you're feeling, if there's something on your mind? I can't really tell. I'm not really sure why." ~Oh, I am such a liar, because I have a very good theory about why, but I can't exactly tell you, because it involves me being in love with you.~

Marie leaned back against the stair railing and frowned a little. "I always figured people could read me like a book," she admitted. "You know that awful sense that everyone can see your thoughts over your head? I suppose I'm just self conscious."

Doug chuckled wryly. "I'm definitely familiar with that feeling. Sometimes I feel like there's a giant neon sign on which everyone can read my entire emotional state, as well as everything I'm thinking."

"Yeah." She smiled and her expression grew distant but affectionate. "But maybe that's only when you've got something you wish no one else knew about, right?"

Doug shook his head. "Which seems to be pretty much all the time."

"I don't know about that," Marie said, focusing on him again. "I try not to have too many secrets... or at least share them with someone else if I have to have them. Otherwise, they can get oppressive."

Doug looked off into an indeterminate distance and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's just...hard sometimes. I mean, I'm good at sitting there and listening to other peoples' problems, but it seems a lot harder to talk about my own. Especially because I don't have a lot of people that I feel like I can tell the really deep stuff to."

"I understand. I really do." She reached out and rubbed his shoulder gently. "It's not good for you... or, it wasn't good for me, not to have someone to talk to when I needed it. But I know how important it is to have the /right/ person, too."

Doug firmly kept his eyes on Marie's lips, scared that if his eyes met hers, she'd be able to read everything in them. "Yeah. The right person is hard to find."

"And sometimes, you get surprised by who the right person is... or that you're their right person too." She smiled a little at that, just a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth.

Doug scuffed one shoe against the other. ~She's talking about being friends, you idiot, not what you'd like her to be talking about. Stay cool, stay cool...~ Doug managed to smile back shyly, but not talk. Silence sounded good right now. No possibility of embarassing declarations if he didn't open his mouth.

"You just have to take your chances," she said. "And be honest. It's hard but it can be really worth it, especially where your friends are concerned."

Doug nodded. "I know what you mean, but taking chances...is hard. I mean, if being honest ruined things, that would really suck."

Marie looked pensive for a moment. "Some people are harder to ruin things with than others. And, all you can ever be is honest. The timing is what matters, I'll give you that. It can be everything, but even so, friends will forgive you if you get it wrong. Sometimes you just have to go with your instinct and hope for the best."

Doug stuck a hand in one pocket, fidgeting and staring at the ground. ~Shouldn't do it, shouldn't do it...~

"Sometimes you have to trust your friends," Marie said thoughtfully. "But I guess I don't know what's on your mind so I'd be irresponsible to go suggesting you make a leap of faith in the wrong direction. I'd hate for you to get hurt."

Doug shrugged. "Getting hurt is a fact of life sometimes, I think. Sometimes it's just a question of which choice gets me hurt less." Shaking it off, he grinned. "But it's getting late. I'll walk you back to your room."

"Always a gentleman." She put her new book in her bag and stood up, offering him her hand to help him up in turn.

Doug closed his eyes momentarily and just enjoyed the feel of Marie's hand in his. "I do try."

She walked up the stairs with him, still holding his hand. "You succeed admirably. You're a good person to spend time with, Doug, a good friend."

Doug walked in companionable silence, not trusting himself if he opened his mouth. Arriving at Marie's room, he forced a smile. "I had a wonderful time today, Marie. Thank you for the gift."

"You're welcome." She gave his hand a squeeze and let go. "Do you want to go to the movies sometime or something or the sort?" she asked as she opened her door.

"That sounds...really nice. I'd love to." Doug smiled. "G'night, Marie. Sweet dreams."

"Night, Doug." She gave him a smile and wave in return and disappeared into her room.

Doug turned and strolled down the hallway. Pulling a silk handkerchief out of his pocket, he crumpled it in his fist and sighed mournfully. "I am such a wuss..." he muttered softly. Then placing the handkerchief back in his pocket, he walked slowly back toward his room.