From the Prom to Baltimore, Friday Night

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy was had been at the prom for maybe half an hour before her phone rang; just enough time for her to have a few conversations and a quick trip to the refreshment table (or four). She was frowning when she felt it vibrating in her clutch, trying to think who it could be. If it was her parents, she decided, she was just going to ignore it and tell them later she was studying.

Imagine her surprise when the name that flashed across her screen was Gorgon. Actually, forget surprise. Imagine her concern.

"Hey," she said, setting her cup of punch on the closest table and ducking for the door. "Gorgon, it's Banzai. Did you mean to call me? Is everything okay?"

[For the caller, please!]

Comments

[spin_kick_snap]

Ten years of gymnastics would do that for a girl.

Their meal took two trips, since even with overloading the tray there wasn't enough room for all the food that Kathy had ordered, but eventually she was back to their table and proceeding to steadily demolish her burgers, much to the consternation of everyone watching.

God, it was like they'd never seen a hungry girl before.

"You know what? I just realized that I am miffed at you," she said, shaking a fry at Nick. "You came all the way out here and called me, but do you know what you didn't bring? Pickles."

Tragedy.

[gunslingerpose]

Nick, for a moment, wondered how much shit he'd be in if he were to just take that fry from her and pop it into his own mouth. And then he decided it wasn't worth it and started shaking the dressing packet for his salad.

"You think I could've gotten Mona's pickles all the way across the country without having to share? Kathy, baby, I'm hurt. You know I wouldn't have left you without if I had a choice. Anyway, work's been stupid. Some stupid Canadian fiance minister cut their tax credit, and yesterday and most of today have been spent reassuring some of my actors that if the projects get dumped because the studios can't afford to pay the fucking cameramen, I'll do my damnedest to keep them in work somewhere else."

Get your own pickles, Kathy. Nikolai had needed his this week.

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"Oh no, Nick, really?" Kathy asked, her teasing smile vanishing as if it had never existed. "That's in...Nova Scotia, right? I've seen a few things about it online. Snoop Dogg was talking about it, trying to convince the province not to gut the arts or something like that."

Yeah, she followed Snoop Dogg. What?

"I didn't realize that it would impact anyone in LA, though."

[gunslingerpose]

"Anyone in the industry, baby," Nick replied with a shrug. "These things move around, you know? Actors travel, producers take the work to the cheapest place they can film it. Hell, even a few of the musicians I represent are freaking out. It isn't like Hollywood does all its filmmaking in Hollywood. We outsource plenty."

Welcome to Basic Film Economics 101 with your host, Nikolai Bartamian.

[spin_kick_snap]

There would be a shooting star with a trailing rainbow any minute now.

"Damn," Kathy said quietly, shaking her head. She shoved a few fries his way. "Sorry about giving you a hard time. You know I didn't actually expect you to carry pickles over three thousand miles for me, right?"

Or even to call, just because he was in town.

[gunslingerpose]

"Yeah, I know. You would've needed to expect me in order to expect pickles."

Nick knew how this sort of thing worked. And was happy to help himself to a couple of sympathy fries all the same.

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"Though, I am just saying, think of how even happier I'd be to see you with pickles," she said, offering him a smile that was still more sympathetic than not.

And maybe pushing an apple pie in his direction, too.

[gunslingerpose]

Nick was chuckling and waving the pie off with an easy grin. Not everyone at this table had hollow legs, Kathy.

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time I'm out here, then. Pickles. No coming anywhere near the east coast without them."

[spin_kick_snap]

She was living every Hollywood starlet's dream: the ability to eat and eat and not gain a pound.

"Well..." she said slowly. "I guess if it comes down to you coming with pickles and you not coming at all, I suppose I could do without them. Even though this is entirely your fault, you know. I wouldn't even have known about that place without your introduction."

[gunslingerpose]

"Yeah, well, I tried to encourage Mona to expand into a franchise, but she wasn't having any of it." Nick shrugged. "She kept insisting that there was no way she could add the secret ingredient all the way across the country. And there I was going, 'Mona, if you can find a way to pickle and preserve roast beef, you can sure as hell find a way to pickle love."

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"Oh my goodness, you did not," Kathy sputtered, and then broke into laughter. "I hope she hit you! That line is terrible!"

[gunslingerpose]

"She was going there anyway," Nick laughed, shaking his head. "But I still got a rolled-up menu to the back of the head for it."

He'd totally had it coming, and he totally didn't care.

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"I don't understand why she still even lets you into the restaurant," Kathy said, tossing a fry at him. "You're incorrigible!"

Don't think she'd forgotten your plan to steal her amazing pun, Nick.

"She must really love you," Kathy decided. "It's the only explanation I can come up with for why she hasn't just banned you for life. That, or your pickle problem probably single-handedly keeps the business afloat." She eyed him. "Now that I think about it, it's probably the pickle addiction."

[gunslingerpose]

"It's almost certainly the pickle addiction." A beat. "And she's still friends with my mother."

So, you know. Mana wouldn't be happy if Mona chased him out. Probably mostly at him, though. It would likely be his fault, after all.

[spin_kick_snap]

"Who, I am certain, must have the virtues and patience of a saint," Kathy decided. "The only way you survived adolescence, I'm sure."

[gunslingerpose]

"Patience? Ha! You clearly haven't met my mana," Nick snorted, shaking his head. "Mana Bartamian is a fierce mama bear, and nobody messes with her kids. Not even her kids."

Nick had many a fond memory of so, so many lectures past.

[spin_kick_snap]

"I bet she's a sweet and lovely woman to anyone who doesn't drive her batty five seconds after saying hello," Kathy declared. "I'll understand why you're confused, though."

She took a long pull off her Coke and asked, "Kids plural? You have siblings?"

[gunslingerpose]

"Oh, yeah," Nick replied, shrugging. "A sister and a brother. Hell, I'm an uncle. Just picture that for a moment. Somewhere out there, there are kids that look up to their Uncle Nikolai as a source of, fuck, good ideas or something."

Now shudder at that thought. Go on.

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy wasn't going to shudder at that! She was going to look appalled instead.

"I bet you were the one who gives the obnoxious toys at Christmas," she said. "Like drumsets and Nerf guns and anything that makes noise."

[gunslingerpose]

"Nerf guns don't make that much noise!"

Look, it was an important fact.

"And I armed their parents too. You can't say I didn't give my brother a fighting chance, there."

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"Mmmhmmm," Kathy was doing a terrible job of hiding a smile here. "Why do I get the feeling they were less than properly grateful for that ever-so-generous consideration?"

[gunslingerpose]

"Mostly, they all ganged up on me instead," Nick chuckled, making a reach to steal another fry. The side salad really didn't compare. "Which, hey, seemed pretty fitting, I won't deny that."

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy swatted at him and deliberately missed. "Fry-thief," she said. "I should take you down for that."

She was a superhero, you know!

[gunslingerpose]

"You could," Nick mused, defiantly sticking the fry into his mouth, "but then how will I be able to go back to get a twenty pack of nuggets and a couple of sundaes for dessert?"

[spin_kick_snap]

"Once I took you down, I could just go for your wallet," Kathy pointed out. "There's this guy I know, does it all the time. I learned it from watching him."