Kyle and Forge and the Quest Not to Be Idiots.

[x-wildchild.livejournal.com]

Kyle and Forge spend the morning in New York trying to figure out what to get their girlfriends for Valentine's Day. The fact that neither Clarice, nor Crystal are typical young women makes it even harder. Kyle and Forge are clueless, and they seek out advice, little of which is helpful.



"I cannot believe this," Forge said as he paced around the set of benches for the twentieth time. "The entire city of New York here - the city of lights, the Big Apple, everything under the sun - and we cannot come up with ideas. Valentine's Day is tomorrow, and we have no plan. Our girlfriends are going to kill us. It's that simple. We should just walk into an attorney's office and get our wills finalized."

"Gnh." Kyle swallowed his mouthful of chili dog, and grimaced. "This sucks. It mega-sucks. It super-sucks. It ... one of those science words that meant really big sucks. I can't just get Clarice like, chocolate. I mean, she can't even eat soup right now without puking!" He tossed his napkins and hot dog wrapper into a trash can and joined Forge in the pacing, only to stop a few steps later and drop onto the bench. "This day started out with the suck. Asking Mr. Marko for advice? Not a good idea." He sat up straight, and extended his hand out, making a fake mouth with his hand. "Good morning, Mr. Marko. Can you help me with Valentine's Day Advice?" He mock-asked his hand. "How does a kid like you have a girlfriend? Don't ask stupid questions! Ten laps for asking me stupid questions in the morning!" Kyle's hand moved in time with his impression of Cain.

"Not doing so well with the advice front here, either," Forge admitted. "I texted the Snow Valley center to see if Pete was in - hey, you never know, it might work. He's off in Tel Aviv or something, and Mark suggested 'MDMA'. I don't even know what that is!"

"Estacy." Kyle answered, and then shrugged at Forge's questioning look. "What? I spent time with potheads, remember? A guy learns this stuff. Also I got the extended "No drugs for you." lecture when they figured out about the food allergy thing." He returned to his loose-limbed position on the bench, one arm over his face. "Okay, okay, okay, who else can we ask? Someone has to be good at this! There are people we know with girlfriends! Or ex-girlfriends. Or... something!"

Forge waved his hands in frustration. "I don't know, dude! The last time I had anything close to dating, it was a sham to get Doug to get off his ass and... aha! You call Doug! I'll see what Marie-Ange's cousin has to say. He's French, right? They know stuff. They're French!"

Dialing quickly, Forge held his phone to his ear. "Jean-Phillipe? Yes, it's Forge. Forge. John Forge, the security guy? Yes. No, no, there's nothing wrong. Look, Kyle and I just had a question for you. Valentine's Day - what do you get a new girlfriend? Yes, I know you're French. No, no, I'm not trying to stereotype you. I understand you don't have a girlfriend... boyfriend? Boyfriend, right. Yes. Yes, I'm sure casual sex is much less difficult. Okay, yeah, thanks."

He hung up the phone, rolled his eyes, and looked over at Kyle texting on his phone. "Strike one on the French Connection."

Kyle hit the send button on his phone, and then looked up at Forge, snickering. "Dude, that dude is like, the person voted least likely to get romance ever. He's gayer then a pack of ... gay squirrels!" A pause and then "And I mean that in the 'I dated a guy so I'm fine with that' way."

After a few moments of standing and pacing and Kyle's hot-dog fueled attempt to belch old Bon Jovi songs, his phone blooked with a return text message. "It says "You've dated them how long and you don't know what they like?" He read, and then held the phone up to show Forge.

"Ramsey, you are of no help whatsoever," Forge groused at the cell phone, then stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the shops around them. "I can't believe this is such a task. How hard can it be? Flowers and candy? Balloons? What does one do for girlfriends to show them... whatever you're supposed to show on Valentine's Day? I mean, Tommy's making jewelry, but something tells me that Crystal's not going to be all that impressed by it. And it's not like I'm trying to impress her," he said, running a hand through his hair. "She's a princess. She's not impressed by stuff. I just want to do this right, you know? Hey, call Alex. He dated Lorna for, like, ever. And she's probably as high-maintenance as it gets."

"Dude, this holiday is so using all my freakin' daytime minutes." Kyle complained, but flipped his phone open and dialed. And waited. And waited. "Voicemail." He mouthed, and then left a rambling message, peppered with considerably more 'dudes' then he normally word that basically translated to "You dated a girl longer then I did, I need your help!". Once finished, he resumed pacing, making a figure-eight around the bench and trash can. "Okay, we can't count on him calling us back. Who else knows women. Oh! Oh, Mr. Summers! He's married!"

"Yeah, but keep in mind that he's also totally whipped," Forge countered. "Which we are not. Totally. Besides, married..." He wagged his finger in the air, suddenly dropping silent, the usual indication that an idea was percolating in his brain. "Intelligence! I was right! We need to treat this tactically! Okay, you've gone over old X-Men mission files, right? Right. So remember when they were going in to help take out all those Mistra camps in Africa? They had intelligence, because Cable practically grew up in one. Inside information!"

"... Dude, what?" Kyle stopped in his pacing and stared at Forge, scratching his head. "Okay, seriously, dude, I have no idea what that has to do with ... I am so confused." He screwed up his face, trying to think. "Tactically. Okay, so like, you mean we need to talk to someone who has already done this, and hasn't fucked it up, and who isn't a clod?"

Forge shook his head. "No, we go to the inside. We know married women! That means that not only do they know what men get their women for Valentine's Day, they know what works! We can call... Jean! Or Moira!"

"Dude, I think Dr. Grey is still recovering from hairspray addiction. Maybe we shouldn't bug her. She just spent a week as a twelve year old." Kyle said, changing his pacing to walk balanced atop the back of the bench. "She did kinda kick ass at DDR though. It was pretty cool." He stopped mid-step, and retrieved his buzzing phone from his pocket. "Alex! Dude!" He answered it, had a conversation that seemed to be ninety percent Alex, and then put it back in his pocket, looking no less puzzled then before. "Whipped. He did flowers and went on and on and ON about how it had to be something special and romantic and.. Jesus. Is this what girlfriends turn guys into? Maybe I need to rethink this getting laid stuff." A pause, and then a wide grin, and then "... Nah."

Forge scowled at his friend, searching through the numbers on his phone. "I think Doc Moira's still in the medlab. She's cool and tends to know this stuff. I tell you, inside information is... hello? Doctor MacTaggart? ... oh. Doctor Voght. How... um... how are things? No, no, no emergency. No, I haven't been hit by a truck. I'm here in the city with Kyle... no, Kyle hasn't been hit by a car. Oh, no. We just needed Doctor MacTaggart's advice. No, no one's injured." He sighed, placed his hand over the phone, and grumbled loudly before listening again. "No, it's nothing serious, just... oh, all right. Kyle and I are here shopping in the city and we have no idea what to get our girlfriends for Valentine's Day. Yes, we do. Yes, we do. Clarice and Crystal. No, Kyle's dating Clarice. Yes, Clarice Ferguson, that's what I said too. And I... of course that Crystal! You know, if you're... wait, you do? I mean, of course you do. Uh-huh. Uh-...huh? Really?" He covered the mouthpiece again and nodded enthusiastically to Kyle. "You really think that'll work? For them? I mean, of course. Thanks, Doctor. Amelia? Amelia, okay. Thanks, Amelia. Yes. Yes, of course I will. No, he's not playing in traffic. Yes, I'll make sure. Thanks."

He hit the END button on his phone and looked up at Kyle with a dumbfounded look. "Doctor Voght says that we should go for the simple stuff. She even gave me the address of a few shops. Who'd've thought?"

Comments

[x-rahne.livejournal.com]

Bwah. Nicely done.