I am the passenger

Walter wandered onto the roof, not in a dress, but barefoot, and sat down next to Nadia, lighting a cigarette.

"How are you feeling today?"

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Nadia exhaled the hit she'd been holding and managed not to cough. "I'm good. How are your feet?"

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"As you might expect," he said, wiggling his toes and holding out his cigarette as though to exchange it for what she was holding.

"Does that part get better with practice? Not that I want practice," he hastened to add, "but just in terms of that understanding-what-women-go-through thing I was working toward."

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"Not really. Though I think some women do build up calluses to help keep blisters and things away, they usually tend to then get rid of said calluses in hopes of having soft, pretty feet." Nadia offered up her joint in exchange. She still had plenty of her eighth from Jay left. "Girls are insane, as you now know."

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Walter took the joint and took a hit, holding it and giving thanks that he didn't have to see Alfred today.

He watched the cloud of smoke he exhaled drift apart before nodding. "Yeah. Girls are insane. So are guys. And since we're all mad here, let's just have some fun with it."

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"Might as well," Nadia said, taking a quick drag on Walter's cigarette. "Thank you for going through with that. Prom might have been all boring if we went as we usually are." And Walter might have spent the whole evening wishing he were there with Victor, which wouldn't have made it any fun whatsoever. "How are you holding up?"

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Walter passed the joint back and reclaimed his cigarette. "My ex-boyfriend left the island just because I broke up with him."

He shrugged and put a foot up on his knee to rub it. "I don't think we were a good match." And he was damned well working on convincing himself of that. "High school romance isn't a lifelong thing, right?"

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"I've never been to high school before, but I think you're probably right. It seems like it's more of a time for . . . experimenting. So you know what you're looking for later in life."

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Later in life? After he left here and went home? Fandom seemed more like the time to do those things he wouldn't have a chance to do later in life.

"I haven't been in high school, either, but I think I'm starting to get a better handle on the experimenting part." As though the day before hadn't been wildly experimental.

"Thank you. For being a good friend." He leaned over slowly to give Nadia a kiss on the cheek.

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Nadia held very still, to keep from ruining the moment by, say, turning her head and catching the kiss on the lips instead. This was the first time Walter had kissed her, even if it was just a friendly kiss.

She smiled slightly. "After everything you've done for me, how could I be anything else?"

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The first time? There were photographs that would prove otherwise. Of course, the gender switch might invalidate that.

"I haven't done anything for you that you wouldn't do for me." Walter crushed out his cigarette and tucked the butt away. "I'm going to go get my things from your room and return your privacy to you."

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Yes, but that time, it had been Nadia doing the kissing of Walter. At least, that was how she thought of it. Walter had been nice enough to allow it, that was all.

She wanted to insist he didn't have to. It got rather quiet in her room, after all. She was more than used to sharing her space.

"If you want to," was all she said.

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walter-n-wires.livejournal.com - Date: 2006-04-23 10:56 pm (UTC) - Expand

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It was pretty, and Angela did not have the energy for an actual walk.

Hence, time on the roof.

"Hey, Nadia. How was prom as a boy?"

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"Hey Angela. It was pretty good. I didn't get hit on by the photographer and my feet never hurt!" She smiled a little lazily. "How was prom with the twitchy boy?"

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"He got into the spiked punch and quit twitching," Angela shrugged. "So that was kind of a relief. I don't know, I thought it was fun. My feet don't even hurt too much -- my heels were only, like, two inches."

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"That's good. Walter was complaining about his . . . her . . . his shoes all night. Well, until Pippi showed him . . . um, her . . . " Nadia shook her head. "That one could dance barefoot."

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"That's good. I think he ... she ... Walter probably had a harder time of it because ... Walter isn't used to wearing heels." She looked at her own sneakers. "I mean, not that I live in them or anything? But at least I've had them on my feet before."

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"Probably, yeah. The British stiff upper lip went right out the window when it came to getting one's legs waxed though, let me tell you." She leaned a little closer to Angela. "And just to let you know, ties are evil."

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Angela giggled. "My god, he even got his legs waxed? He really wanted the full female experience. You should've made him get PMS too."

"I always think ties are weird. I mean, it's this little strip of fabric around your neck with no purpose, and guys just wear them."

She sniffed at the air. "You smoke?" she asked.

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"I don't think Walter, or any boy for that matter, is ready for PMS. Pippi talked him into the waxing. I just told him to shave his legs." Nadia shrugged. "And I think it must have been a woman who came up with ties. They're like leashes for men."

She held out the joint. "I smoke this stuff, sometimes. And tobacco, when I've been smoking enough of this stuff. Do you want some?"

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"I think shaving is bad enough," Angela shuddered. "I don't need to cover half my body in wax, thanks."

She indicated the joint. "Do you mind? I used to at home, sometimes."

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"Of course not." Nadia smiled. "What good is pot if it isn't shared?" She shrugged. "I don't like waxing, either, but I'm told it gets easier if you do it a lot."

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"I think I can just not find that out, about waxing," Angela shrugged.

She took a hit from the joint, caughed, then held the smoke. "This is strong."

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