Alisha & Nathan, Backdated to 16/12/2013
Dec. 16th, 2013 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainNathan gets Alisha to take him shopping for the ugly sweater party. She gets more than she bargained for when she realizes he's buying her one, too. Snarky sibling-like banter and maybe even a serious thing wedged in the middle.
It hadn't taken much to lure Alisha out to Salem Center - Nathan said 'clothes shopping,' and she was the one signing out the car and practically dragging him out the school doors. He'd got her out there with him, was all he really cared about. The rest should be easy enough.
Once she'd got them into a spot at the car park, Nathan slammed the door behind him as he got out and huddled up his thin jacket around his bony-arsed self against the December chill. He'd put off Alisha's attempts to take them to a proper shopping mall with sufficient application of annoyance, insisting there was only one place for them as broke as he was (vices being expensive and all) - and that was the secondhand shop. Besides which, this was where the ugliest clothes from all ugly clothes went to die. "Ah, the Island of Misfit Clothing! Have you ever even been before?" Nothing she wore ever looked thrown together slapdash or handed down.
Alisha arched an eyebrow at him. "Do I look as if I've been here before?" She knew exactly why she'd let Nathan drag her out here. She owed him. Jack might not have believed it, but she did owe Nathan for not being the one to tell him about her power. For not being brave enough to tell him when she'd been brave enough to tell...well, they had been the people she'd wanted to screw around with. And Simon.
"Just the boots, really," he gave her a wide smile. They were the fashion with girls apparently, and he'd seen some of the others at the school wearing them. Nathan just couldn't help himself. "C'mon, it'll be fun! Think of it as Harrod's for a Homeless. Who knows, maybe we'll find you something retro-chic that only smells a bit of dead granny."
"I think you've forgotten that I know where you sleep. And if you really get under Simon's skin, I'm sure he'd be willing to leave the door open for me."
"I think he'd leave the door open for you for any number of reasons," Nathan hoisted eyebrows at her. "And being invincible, I'm thinking there's not much you could do to me that I wouldn't get over soon enough."
Alisha hesitated and then decided that she really didn't need to know what Nathan was referring to with Simon. Her feelings about him were confusing enough. Really, her feelings about all of them were confusing. She cared about them. Even Nathan.
"There's death and then there are the things I can do to you. I'll let you guess which is worse."
"Your nagging's definitely worse," Nathan decided, pushing his way through the door of the thrift store as they reached it.
Tinny muzak some thirty-odd years outdated buzzed through the speaker system, a pall of harsh florescent lighting and miasma of mild neglect forming some manner of amalgamated time warp on the inside of the shop. Nathan flung his arms wide triumphantly, grinning at the shelves of used Christmas decorations that were near the front. "It's a discounted winter wonderland in here! We're sure to find just the thing. And look," he pointed vigorously. Someone with the store must have been tipped off to the growing trend of ugly sweater parties, because there were racks and racks of them all huddled together like Santa's disgruntled, manic reindeer, waiting for their one night of magical flight a year.
Alisha looked around, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "You have to be kidding me." If she thought she could knit, she'd make him a jumper rather than subject anyone she knew to the things she was seeing on these racks. It was one of the reasons she wasn't going to go to the party. Why wear something that had been handed down from someone else? It was likely to be ill-fitting at best and definitely ugly. Alisha didn't do ugly.
She stared as she saw a pair of dangling red things hanging off one jumper. "I hope to god that's supposed to be holly," she muttered.
"That's some twig and berries alright," Nathan didn't exactly reassure her. "This one's got jingle bells on," he considered one jumper's virtues of annoyance, grasping the hangar and jangling it fiercely. "But it's not much to look away from, is it?" He put it back, clacking through more hangars to see if there wasn't something more visually irritating to be had.
He glanced up from the racks when he realized Alisha was paralyzed with horror. "Don't just stand there! You're the clothes shopper - shop, woman!"
The sharp words jerked her out of her stupor and she shot him a dirty look for his trouble. The problem, she realized, was that he wasn't going to be bothered at all by what he was wearing. So the only pleasure she was going to get was this was all over. Still, looking at the glee he was getting in finding the right jumper, she decided to at least do her best. She did owe it to him.
Gingerly, she started picking up a few choices, going for as horrific and outrageous as possible.
"So what're you hoping you'll get once Santa's emptied his big sack all over yours this year?" Nathan made a face at this particular section of sweaters - Christmas kittens, too grandmother-y. This one had working lights, but they'd burnt out. Red and green argyle was too plain... "Your Mum and Dad sending their little princess something special?" He looked over the racks at her, something occurring to him. "You're not back to blighty for the holiday, are you?"
"I'm getting the same thing from you that I'm getting from everyone else," she said and realized she'd probably forgotten to tell him. "You're modelling for me. Specifically, I'm creating an outfit that will be your Christmas gift and you'll let Anders take your photograph for me." If she'd been thinking at all, she might have realized that it sounded a bit perverted and she would have explained what she needed the photographs for, but her mind was on the jumpers and so she let the statement stand as it was."
"No, I'm staying here. I think I'm leaving for New Year's, though."
"You're getting...what?" Nathan left off of the jumpers entirely to cock a hard, quizzical look at her. There were so many things he didn't understand loaded into Alisha's pronouncement that he hardly knew where to begin not-understanding them. She was buying him clothing, apparently, like how they'd done for the fancy dress party before. It made the most sense if she didn't want the likes of him and the other ASBOs embarrassing her - but everyone already knew he was a great and marvelous bastard, and that Barry and Curtis were their own lost causes, so what was the point in dressing him them up proper now?
"And I wouldn't trust that Kiwi fucker to take a dump correctly, much less let 'em steal my soul with his magic picture box." Nathan rattled off offencive quips so easily that Alisha might've been right to think nothing of it. But there was an undertone of unusually caustic acid burbling beneath the surface of the words and that suggested actual dislike. Nathan himself wasn't sure if it was because of the shit Anders had caused with him and Barry before, or if it was fresh bile at the thought of the arse doing favours for Alisha, but he didn't like it one bit. "Not interested, not happening, no way," he pointedly scraped some of the hangars along the racks to hear them squeal.
She folded her arms under her chest and glared at Nathan. "You're doing it," she said as if there were no other option that could possibly happen. "Everyone I know is doing this, so don't think you're going to be the special one who manages to get out of it. You're not nearly cute enough for me to consider it."
She wouldn't exactly call Nathan ugly, but he wasn't her style for his mouth if for no other reason.
"I'm putting together a portfolio and a portfolio needs clothes. More importantly, a portfolio needs people with different body types and I'm not sure I can think of anyone who quite fits your skinny arse. I don't know what your problem is with him, but it can suffer through a few photographs."
"I'm cute as a pile of puppies vomming up rainbow coloured marshmallows!" Nathan defended his distinctive good looks impulsively and immediately, but he still wasn't following what she was on about any better as he leaned into his forearms over the racks in her direction. "What're you even talking about, 'portfolio'? What for?"
Alisha mumbled something under her breath that might have included the words 'university' and 'fashion degree' and then dumped a handful of jumpers into Nathan's arms. "So get some practice under your belt before I start poking you with needles and give me a fashion show so that I can decide which of these you're going home with."
Nathan screwed up his face at Alisha with a fluctuation of several very strong yet equally indeterminate expressions. What he'd got out of that was: "You're leaving?!"
Why, oh why did Nathan have to sound almost heartbroken? And why, oh why did she have to give a fuck? "I'm not leaving," she said almost immediately because that thought had never crossed her mind. It wasn't like she was exactly fit for company. Some company, sure, but she wasn't going to be able to explain away gloves at uni.
"Where would I go? I go home and they send me right back to community service. That's not going to happen."
"You're the one talking all this about uni," Nathan refreshed her memory, face more or less clearing up but still frowning. "How do you figure on making that work without your leaving, then?"
"The wonders of modern technology, I guess. I don't know. I haven't thought much about it." It wasn't exactly a lie. Just because she'd thought about wanting to do it didn't mean she'd given any thought about how to make it happen.
"If you think I'm going to try on all this lot..." Nathan dropped the subject, since she didn't really seem to know what she was at and would most likely forget the whole thing, and turned his attention back to the matter at hand - arms, whatever. He started tossing jumpers from the pile she'd gave him back on top of the racks in a heap. "No, no, no! It's got to be amazingly, utterly-" He stopped suddenly as he held up the most fantastically horrible sweater he'd ever laid eyes on. "Ohhhhhhh, yesssss. Hello, you gorgeous freak!"
Alisha groaned. Of course he'd choose that one to wear. She wasn't sure why she'd picked up that jumper in the first place, but of course it would be the one that Nathan decided to wear. She pursed her lips at him. "Maybe it won't fit." If it did...well, it wasn't like she was going to the party. She couldn't purposefully avoid dancing with him if she didn't go.
"Are you putting me on?! It's huge!" Well, for a beanpole of Nathan's stature, it was, and it looked as if two of him could fit into it at a glance. He yanked it on over his head right there, over his clothing and all, shimmying to make it tumble down over his chest. He grinned down at the humping reindeer knit into the thing, and it was certainly a loose fit - but it fit well enough. "Who could throw out such a magnificent jumper? It's perfect!"
And this was why she took it upon herself to dress Nathan. His choices weren't just questionable. If he wasn't careful, they could be downright offensive. She supposed that was the point of this whole party, though, so she just shook her head and sighed. She was betting that they didn't have any idea what they were getting into, letting Nathan have free reign.
"That's it? We're done? And at least wash the damn thing before you wear it around town. You don't know where it's been." And maybe it'd shrink in the wash and he'd have to find something else.
"Could it get any worse than where I've been? I think not." He didn't look as if he'd finished, though, seeing as Nathan went right back to the racks and kept flipping through hangars. "Now keep looking. We've not found what you're gonna wear to the party yet," he pointed out merrily.
Alisha didn't even acknowledge the words for a minute. She just turned around and started looking for more jumpers. It was only when the words sunk in that she turned around and stared at Nathan in horror. "No," she said slowly. Maybe he'd missed that particular part of the thread where she'd said there was no way in hell that she was going. "I'm staying in that night." More like wouldn't be caught dead in anything like this.
"Ohhhhh yeah, you are," he paused to look at one jumper, but then kept on going. "I don't want to do any posing for that manipulative photographer shithead like burning, but I'll do it anyway because you asked. You don't want to wear a butt-fugly jumper to this party, but you'll end up doing it anyway, because I'm asking. That's how this messed up friendship of ours works out." Nathan stopped, lifting up a particularly fine specimen that ought to be about her size. He got a slightly manic gleam in his eyes as he jiggled the sweater on its hangar at her triumphantly. "And this is what you'll be wearing."
Alisha went through several different faces, all of them various shades of horrified. He couldn't expect her to wear that. Really. He couldn't. Except he was damn near shoving the thing in his face and he had that look like he might well be crushed if she tried to say no. And realistically, could she? She did owe him and for more than just that he'd let her get his photograph taken. She still owed it to him because of not telling him about her power. Maybe he didn't say it, maybe he wasn't even thinking it, but she felt it.
She took the thing from him warily. "Does it have to be this one?" she asked slowly.
"What do you mean, 'have to be'? It was made for you!" Nathan's grin spread wider, threatening to crack his face, and he lifted one of the sweater's arms and used it to stroke her cheek like it was an affectionate animal. "See? It likes you. Now you've got to take it home. My gift to you, even. Merry Christmas and all that shite."
Sometimes she suspected that Nathan knew exactly how much of an arse he made of himself and he did it on purpose just to see the reaction he'd get. Other times, Alisha wondered if he had any idea at all. "Fine. But this is it. After this, we're even." Even if she didn't feel even, there was no way he was getting her to do something like this twice out of guilt.
Nathan yanked her jumper from the hangar, tossing the plastic bit over his shoulder (lucky there was no one behind him to hit), and draped the offending garment around the backs of Alisha's shoulders. "Stunning," was the word he chose, as he loosely knotted the arms over her chest like a ponce on a yacht might wear. His smile had eased to something that looked suspiciously genuine, and he slung his arm around her back to catch up her far shoulder in a kind of squeezing hug as he started them for the check-out. Apparently, all was forgiven (or at least temporarily forgotten) about her keeping her powers from him - or maybe, even an ass as he was, Nathan had understood why she'd done it.
Alisha was stuck-up and prissy and cared too much what other people thought of her from time to time, but he was fond of her, after all. "Let's get out of here and go have a burger or something, yeah?"
"Careful!" She yelped, though it was obvious he was being careful about what bits of her he actually touched. Once she'd turned on the body awareness that came with having her powers, it was hard to turn off and she'd only really done it when it came to Brian and even with him she had that half-second pause before the first touch to let him know she was coming.
"You might not be able to dance with me for this," she said. Again, her words said one thing but she was reasonably sure that if she went to a party, there were at least three people she'd be dancing with.
"That's not really much of a threat against a boy who's got no intentions of boning you," Nathan pointed out, leaving his arm right where it was until she saw fit to shake him off. "You're the one who goes 'round forcing us to dance, remember?"
"You've changed your tune," she said as they approached the till. Honestly, she was glad. If he just treated her as a friend or, god help her, a sister, she wouldn't have to worry about any crude jokes that were flung her way meaning anything.
"I've not changed anything," Nathan told her right back, as much because he was used to being contrary as for any actual disagreement. He flashed an impish smile at the greatly underwhelmed older woman working the till as they approached, offering the yellow tag on his sleeve at her to ring up. "Posh girls like you are too much work. My type's rather the low self-esteem, limited expectations sort with daddy issues and a few pints or a handful of class A's in already," he babbled, completely flippant in contrast to the continuously souring expression of the clerk.
Nathan held out the arm of Alisha's sweater for her pink tag to get charged as well, flapping it and grunting at the woman until it got tapped in on her keypad, then letting it flop back down over Alisha's chest. "They're the sort you get to do the weird shit with," he suggested to Alisha with a dance of his great eyebrows as he pulled out his wallet.
"Define 'weird shit' and remember that I've probably heard someone ask for it." People said all kinds of shit when they were under her power. Of course, they never actually got around to doing it, but she had definitely heard it. The only problem was that she didn't think she wanted to do most of it. Maybe that was what Nathan was talking about. Someone who would. She tried not to make a face at the idea that someone really would want to do that shit.
"And here I am, not-asking for any of that, like a real gentleman." Nathan tugged a few only partially crumpled bills from his wallet, pushing them at the clerk and getting his funny-looking American money as change, waving off a receipt as they made their way for the exit. "But I bet you could tell me who's got the nastiest kinks out of the boys at the school, couldn't you? C'mon, who's Head Freak of the upperclassmen so far? You can't convince me all of those inflatable donkeys got binned."
Alisha snorted. "I've only touched one person with them. Well, one person who reacted." She thought about it. "Make that two, but Curtis was only, like, a second. Well, at least one of them had the proper idea about her. She was beginning to think that her reputation was not the same sassy bitch that it had been back home.
"Not to worry. I'm sure you'll be back on your back in no time, especially looking so flash in that jumper," Nathan reassured her, pushing the door open for them. "But you hear donkey-talk, it'd better get back to me."
"I can promise," Alisha said, wondering slightly at the idea of Nathan being a gentleman, "that you will be the last person I tell." The words were said matter-of-factly. She tried not to give Nathan the juicy bits that were none of his business because he would use them against her. Maybe not where everyone could hear, but he would tease her. It was one of the reasons she hadn't mentioned her thing with Bobby, Or Brian. She wasn't sure she could avoid him finding out about Sirius.
"So you will tell me," Nathan piped back, well pleased by even her grudging agreement. "That's my good little gossip," he positioned himself to begin yanking impatiently at the handle on the passenger side of the school car until she opened up the auto-locks.
"Only after I've told everyone else on earth before you," she shot back. She was tempted to leave him behind, but he was already getting in the car and really, she wasn't sure she'd do that. Even if she should.
"Wouldn't be the first time now, would it?" He lifted eyebrows at her, daring Alisha to argue with that.
"Yes," Alisha said firmly because even if she should have told him sooner, she had mostly definitely not gone around and told everyone about her power. "The only people I told because I wanted to were the ones I was going to sleep with." And Simon, but she still wasn't sure why she'd told him.
"Barry knew," Nathan wasn't about to let that one get away from them so easily. The list of who he knew she'd told was so short that it was quick enough to come to their fellow ASBO's name. He turned in his seat and made a disgusted face at her. "You would with Barry?! He's a mouthbreather fer chris'sake!" Simon was his mate, alright, but that little bastard was still a creeper if Nathan had ever seen one. "Maybe you've a kink for antisocial specials, enh?"
"I have not slept with Simon," Alisha said firmly, glad she had to focus on the road. It kept her from squirming under the attention. It wasn't like she actually had and she didn't want to, even if he didn't look scrawny anymore.
She was also not answering his kink question although that one did make her flush as she thought of Scott.
"Seriously?! You're blushing now?" Nathan chortled into the words, giving her reddened cheeks a good look, and only just reminded himself not to reach over and pinch one. "She does like her a bit of maladjusted brooder creep," he went on, immensely entertained by this revelation, and banged on the dash with percussive delight instead. "You've got a type. What, is it... Just because they're the ones least likely to ever actually get it in there? The forbidden fruit? The unobtainable banana?"
"The playboy," she shot back, hoping to divert his attention from where she didn't want it. "I'm going to New York this New Year's with Sirius. You'll be spared a dance with me." Then, just to rub it in, she added, "Last time I went with Brian." She doubted either of the boys would be happy to know that Nathan knew about what was or had been going on, but better to tell him that than have him think she was interested in Simon.
Playboy? Well, he supposed that did make loads more sense for Alisha than the sort who went around with their buttons done all the way up on their starched collars and Nazi-youth-posterchild haircuts. "You mean the rich boy," Nathan grumbled. "If I had a bajillion in the bank thanks to good 'ol mum and dad, I could open a few more thighs myself," he argued, reaching to try and tear the tag off of his jumper - which proved to be a stubborn one. "Serious? Which one's that?"
"Well, I grant you that Brian was more dull than not. He had his moments, but there were other reasons." Like the fact that she hadn't had to use her powers. "But I wouldn't care if Sirius were rich or not." It helped that he was, of course, but only because it would mean they'd have time alone without everyone at the school staring at them.
"Sirius Black. You know, from that show?"
"I dunno. Sort of sounds familiar, I guess. Was he the cunt from EastEnders?" Nathan brought the tag on the sleeve of the jumper up to his teeth, getting a good clench on the bit of plastic and growling, almost dog-like, as he yanked away at it.
"Made in Chelsea. That reality show?" She glanced over and shook her head. "We'll be back at the school soon and then they'll have scissors." Under her breath, she added, "If you could be trusted with scissors."
"Okay, so you like 'em famous even more than rich," was all Nathan had to say for Serious. "You know, you fatally impale yourself on a pair of scissors through the eye at a run one time - just one time! - and people act like you shouldn't be handed sharp objects anymore," he complained, frowning at the stubborn tag and giving it one more go with his teeth. He cackled triumphantly as he finally tore the tag off, spitting the paper bit onto the dash and rubbing the weave of the jumper so you couldn't see the place where he'd stretched it a bit out of shape in his vigor. "Hey! You could talk to him about having me on for a few episodes as a quirky cousin or neighbour or some shite like that, right? I could milk that with the ladies for years."
"Why did you put that thing on now?" she asked, shaking her head at him. She could just see the reactions people would have to him wearing that in public. With her in public and without any 'bad sweater party' excuse. She shook her head and sighed. Taking him out shopping had been a bad idea. "And no, I'm not going to talk to Sirius to ask him to get you on the show. If you want to get on, you'll have to talk to him yourself."
"Because I'm full of Christmas spirit and piss and vinegar? Because that's the face you make when I do wear it?" Nathan looked down at the front of his jumper, nodding his head in satisfaction with his magnificent score. "That party's gonna be my bitch in this bitch."
"You're full of something," Alisha muttered.
It hadn't taken much to lure Alisha out to Salem Center - Nathan said 'clothes shopping,' and she was the one signing out the car and practically dragging him out the school doors. He'd got her out there with him, was all he really cared about. The rest should be easy enough.
Once she'd got them into a spot at the car park, Nathan slammed the door behind him as he got out and huddled up his thin jacket around his bony-arsed self against the December chill. He'd put off Alisha's attempts to take them to a proper shopping mall with sufficient application of annoyance, insisting there was only one place for them as broke as he was (vices being expensive and all) - and that was the secondhand shop. Besides which, this was where the ugliest clothes from all ugly clothes went to die. "Ah, the Island of Misfit Clothing! Have you ever even been before?" Nothing she wore ever looked thrown together slapdash or handed down.
Alisha arched an eyebrow at him. "Do I look as if I've been here before?" She knew exactly why she'd let Nathan drag her out here. She owed him. Jack might not have believed it, but she did owe Nathan for not being the one to tell him about her power. For not being brave enough to tell him when she'd been brave enough to tell...well, they had been the people she'd wanted to screw around with. And Simon.
"Just the boots, really," he gave her a wide smile. They were the fashion with girls apparently, and he'd seen some of the others at the school wearing them. Nathan just couldn't help himself. "C'mon, it'll be fun! Think of it as Harrod's for a Homeless. Who knows, maybe we'll find you something retro-chic that only smells a bit of dead granny."
"I think you've forgotten that I know where you sleep. And if you really get under Simon's skin, I'm sure he'd be willing to leave the door open for me."
"I think he'd leave the door open for you for any number of reasons," Nathan hoisted eyebrows at her. "And being invincible, I'm thinking there's not much you could do to me that I wouldn't get over soon enough."
Alisha hesitated and then decided that she really didn't need to know what Nathan was referring to with Simon. Her feelings about him were confusing enough. Really, her feelings about all of them were confusing. She cared about them. Even Nathan.
"There's death and then there are the things I can do to you. I'll let you guess which is worse."
"Your nagging's definitely worse," Nathan decided, pushing his way through the door of the thrift store as they reached it.
Tinny muzak some thirty-odd years outdated buzzed through the speaker system, a pall of harsh florescent lighting and miasma of mild neglect forming some manner of amalgamated time warp on the inside of the shop. Nathan flung his arms wide triumphantly, grinning at the shelves of used Christmas decorations that were near the front. "It's a discounted winter wonderland in here! We're sure to find just the thing. And look," he pointed vigorously. Someone with the store must have been tipped off to the growing trend of ugly sweater parties, because there were racks and racks of them all huddled together like Santa's disgruntled, manic reindeer, waiting for their one night of magical flight a year.
Alisha looked around, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "You have to be kidding me." If she thought she could knit, she'd make him a jumper rather than subject anyone she knew to the things she was seeing on these racks. It was one of the reasons she wasn't going to go to the party. Why wear something that had been handed down from someone else? It was likely to be ill-fitting at best and definitely ugly. Alisha didn't do ugly.
She stared as she saw a pair of dangling red things hanging off one jumper. "I hope to god that's supposed to be holly," she muttered.
"That's some twig and berries alright," Nathan didn't exactly reassure her. "This one's got jingle bells on," he considered one jumper's virtues of annoyance, grasping the hangar and jangling it fiercely. "But it's not much to look away from, is it?" He put it back, clacking through more hangars to see if there wasn't something more visually irritating to be had.
He glanced up from the racks when he realized Alisha was paralyzed with horror. "Don't just stand there! You're the clothes shopper - shop, woman!"
The sharp words jerked her out of her stupor and she shot him a dirty look for his trouble. The problem, she realized, was that he wasn't going to be bothered at all by what he was wearing. So the only pleasure she was going to get was this was all over. Still, looking at the glee he was getting in finding the right jumper, she decided to at least do her best. She did owe it to him.
Gingerly, she started picking up a few choices, going for as horrific and outrageous as possible.
"So what're you hoping you'll get once Santa's emptied his big sack all over yours this year?" Nathan made a face at this particular section of sweaters - Christmas kittens, too grandmother-y. This one had working lights, but they'd burnt out. Red and green argyle was too plain... "Your Mum and Dad sending their little princess something special?" He looked over the racks at her, something occurring to him. "You're not back to blighty for the holiday, are you?"
"I'm getting the same thing from you that I'm getting from everyone else," she said and realized she'd probably forgotten to tell him. "You're modelling for me. Specifically, I'm creating an outfit that will be your Christmas gift and you'll let Anders take your photograph for me." If she'd been thinking at all, she might have realized that it sounded a bit perverted and she would have explained what she needed the photographs for, but her mind was on the jumpers and so she let the statement stand as it was."
"No, I'm staying here. I think I'm leaving for New Year's, though."
"You're getting...what?" Nathan left off of the jumpers entirely to cock a hard, quizzical look at her. There were so many things he didn't understand loaded into Alisha's pronouncement that he hardly knew where to begin not-understanding them. She was buying him clothing, apparently, like how they'd done for the fancy dress party before. It made the most sense if she didn't want the likes of him and the other ASBOs embarrassing her - but everyone already knew he was a great and marvelous bastard, and that Barry and Curtis were their own lost causes, so what was the point in dressing him them up proper now?
"And I wouldn't trust that Kiwi fucker to take a dump correctly, much less let 'em steal my soul with his magic picture box." Nathan rattled off offencive quips so easily that Alisha might've been right to think nothing of it. But there was an undertone of unusually caustic acid burbling beneath the surface of the words and that suggested actual dislike. Nathan himself wasn't sure if it was because of the shit Anders had caused with him and Barry before, or if it was fresh bile at the thought of the arse doing favours for Alisha, but he didn't like it one bit. "Not interested, not happening, no way," he pointedly scraped some of the hangars along the racks to hear them squeal.
She folded her arms under her chest and glared at Nathan. "You're doing it," she said as if there were no other option that could possibly happen. "Everyone I know is doing this, so don't think you're going to be the special one who manages to get out of it. You're not nearly cute enough for me to consider it."
She wouldn't exactly call Nathan ugly, but he wasn't her style for his mouth if for no other reason.
"I'm putting together a portfolio and a portfolio needs clothes. More importantly, a portfolio needs people with different body types and I'm not sure I can think of anyone who quite fits your skinny arse. I don't know what your problem is with him, but it can suffer through a few photographs."
"I'm cute as a pile of puppies vomming up rainbow coloured marshmallows!" Nathan defended his distinctive good looks impulsively and immediately, but he still wasn't following what she was on about any better as he leaned into his forearms over the racks in her direction. "What're you even talking about, 'portfolio'? What for?"
Alisha mumbled something under her breath that might have included the words 'university' and 'fashion degree' and then dumped a handful of jumpers into Nathan's arms. "So get some practice under your belt before I start poking you with needles and give me a fashion show so that I can decide which of these you're going home with."
Nathan screwed up his face at Alisha with a fluctuation of several very strong yet equally indeterminate expressions. What he'd got out of that was: "You're leaving?!"
Why, oh why did Nathan have to sound almost heartbroken? And why, oh why did she have to give a fuck? "I'm not leaving," she said almost immediately because that thought had never crossed her mind. It wasn't like she was exactly fit for company. Some company, sure, but she wasn't going to be able to explain away gloves at uni.
"Where would I go? I go home and they send me right back to community service. That's not going to happen."
"You're the one talking all this about uni," Nathan refreshed her memory, face more or less clearing up but still frowning. "How do you figure on making that work without your leaving, then?"
"The wonders of modern technology, I guess. I don't know. I haven't thought much about it." It wasn't exactly a lie. Just because she'd thought about wanting to do it didn't mean she'd given any thought about how to make it happen.
"If you think I'm going to try on all this lot..." Nathan dropped the subject, since she didn't really seem to know what she was at and would most likely forget the whole thing, and turned his attention back to the matter at hand - arms, whatever. He started tossing jumpers from the pile she'd gave him back on top of the racks in a heap. "No, no, no! It's got to be amazingly, utterly-" He stopped suddenly as he held up the most fantastically horrible sweater he'd ever laid eyes on. "Ohhhhhhh, yesssss. Hello, you gorgeous freak!"
Alisha groaned. Of course he'd choose that one to wear. She wasn't sure why she'd picked up that jumper in the first place, but of course it would be the one that Nathan decided to wear. She pursed her lips at him. "Maybe it won't fit." If it did...well, it wasn't like she was going to the party. She couldn't purposefully avoid dancing with him if she didn't go.
"Are you putting me on?! It's huge!" Well, for a beanpole of Nathan's stature, it was, and it looked as if two of him could fit into it at a glance. He yanked it on over his head right there, over his clothing and all, shimmying to make it tumble down over his chest. He grinned down at the humping reindeer knit into the thing, and it was certainly a loose fit - but it fit well enough. "Who could throw out such a magnificent jumper? It's perfect!"
And this was why she took it upon herself to dress Nathan. His choices weren't just questionable. If he wasn't careful, they could be downright offensive. She supposed that was the point of this whole party, though, so she just shook her head and sighed. She was betting that they didn't have any idea what they were getting into, letting Nathan have free reign.
"That's it? We're done? And at least wash the damn thing before you wear it around town. You don't know where it's been." And maybe it'd shrink in the wash and he'd have to find something else.
"Could it get any worse than where I've been? I think not." He didn't look as if he'd finished, though, seeing as Nathan went right back to the racks and kept flipping through hangars. "Now keep looking. We've not found what you're gonna wear to the party yet," he pointed out merrily.
Alisha didn't even acknowledge the words for a minute. She just turned around and started looking for more jumpers. It was only when the words sunk in that she turned around and stared at Nathan in horror. "No," she said slowly. Maybe he'd missed that particular part of the thread where she'd said there was no way in hell that she was going. "I'm staying in that night." More like wouldn't be caught dead in anything like this.
"Ohhhhh yeah, you are," he paused to look at one jumper, but then kept on going. "I don't want to do any posing for that manipulative photographer shithead like burning, but I'll do it anyway because you asked. You don't want to wear a butt-fugly jumper to this party, but you'll end up doing it anyway, because I'm asking. That's how this messed up friendship of ours works out." Nathan stopped, lifting up a particularly fine specimen that ought to be about her size. He got a slightly manic gleam in his eyes as he jiggled the sweater on its hangar at her triumphantly. "And this is what you'll be wearing."
Alisha went through several different faces, all of them various shades of horrified. He couldn't expect her to wear that. Really. He couldn't. Except he was damn near shoving the thing in his face and he had that look like he might well be crushed if she tried to say no. And realistically, could she? She did owe him and for more than just that he'd let her get his photograph taken. She still owed it to him because of not telling him about her power. Maybe he didn't say it, maybe he wasn't even thinking it, but she felt it.
She took the thing from him warily. "Does it have to be this one?" she asked slowly.
"What do you mean, 'have to be'? It was made for you!" Nathan's grin spread wider, threatening to crack his face, and he lifted one of the sweater's arms and used it to stroke her cheek like it was an affectionate animal. "See? It likes you. Now you've got to take it home. My gift to you, even. Merry Christmas and all that shite."
Sometimes she suspected that Nathan knew exactly how much of an arse he made of himself and he did it on purpose just to see the reaction he'd get. Other times, Alisha wondered if he had any idea at all. "Fine. But this is it. After this, we're even." Even if she didn't feel even, there was no way he was getting her to do something like this twice out of guilt.
Nathan yanked her jumper from the hangar, tossing the plastic bit over his shoulder (lucky there was no one behind him to hit), and draped the offending garment around the backs of Alisha's shoulders. "Stunning," was the word he chose, as he loosely knotted the arms over her chest like a ponce on a yacht might wear. His smile had eased to something that looked suspiciously genuine, and he slung his arm around her back to catch up her far shoulder in a kind of squeezing hug as he started them for the check-out. Apparently, all was forgiven (or at least temporarily forgotten) about her keeping her powers from him - or maybe, even an ass as he was, Nathan had understood why she'd done it.
Alisha was stuck-up and prissy and cared too much what other people thought of her from time to time, but he was fond of her, after all. "Let's get out of here and go have a burger or something, yeah?"
"Careful!" She yelped, though it was obvious he was being careful about what bits of her he actually touched. Once she'd turned on the body awareness that came with having her powers, it was hard to turn off and she'd only really done it when it came to Brian and even with him she had that half-second pause before the first touch to let him know she was coming.
"You might not be able to dance with me for this," she said. Again, her words said one thing but she was reasonably sure that if she went to a party, there were at least three people she'd be dancing with.
"That's not really much of a threat against a boy who's got no intentions of boning you," Nathan pointed out, leaving his arm right where it was until she saw fit to shake him off. "You're the one who goes 'round forcing us to dance, remember?"
"You've changed your tune," she said as they approached the till. Honestly, she was glad. If he just treated her as a friend or, god help her, a sister, she wouldn't have to worry about any crude jokes that were flung her way meaning anything.
"I've not changed anything," Nathan told her right back, as much because he was used to being contrary as for any actual disagreement. He flashed an impish smile at the greatly underwhelmed older woman working the till as they approached, offering the yellow tag on his sleeve at her to ring up. "Posh girls like you are too much work. My type's rather the low self-esteem, limited expectations sort with daddy issues and a few pints or a handful of class A's in already," he babbled, completely flippant in contrast to the continuously souring expression of the clerk.
Nathan held out the arm of Alisha's sweater for her pink tag to get charged as well, flapping it and grunting at the woman until it got tapped in on her keypad, then letting it flop back down over Alisha's chest. "They're the sort you get to do the weird shit with," he suggested to Alisha with a dance of his great eyebrows as he pulled out his wallet.
"Define 'weird shit' and remember that I've probably heard someone ask for it." People said all kinds of shit when they were under her power. Of course, they never actually got around to doing it, but she had definitely heard it. The only problem was that she didn't think she wanted to do most of it. Maybe that was what Nathan was talking about. Someone who would. She tried not to make a face at the idea that someone really would want to do that shit.
"And here I am, not-asking for any of that, like a real gentleman." Nathan tugged a few only partially crumpled bills from his wallet, pushing them at the clerk and getting his funny-looking American money as change, waving off a receipt as they made their way for the exit. "But I bet you could tell me who's got the nastiest kinks out of the boys at the school, couldn't you? C'mon, who's Head Freak of the upperclassmen so far? You can't convince me all of those inflatable donkeys got binned."
Alisha snorted. "I've only touched one person with them. Well, one person who reacted." She thought about it. "Make that two, but Curtis was only, like, a second. Well, at least one of them had the proper idea about her. She was beginning to think that her reputation was not the same sassy bitch that it had been back home.
"Not to worry. I'm sure you'll be back on your back in no time, especially looking so flash in that jumper," Nathan reassured her, pushing the door open for them. "But you hear donkey-talk, it'd better get back to me."
"I can promise," Alisha said, wondering slightly at the idea of Nathan being a gentleman, "that you will be the last person I tell." The words were said matter-of-factly. She tried not to give Nathan the juicy bits that were none of his business because he would use them against her. Maybe not where everyone could hear, but he would tease her. It was one of the reasons she hadn't mentioned her thing with Bobby, Or Brian. She wasn't sure she could avoid him finding out about Sirius.
"So you will tell me," Nathan piped back, well pleased by even her grudging agreement. "That's my good little gossip," he positioned himself to begin yanking impatiently at the handle on the passenger side of the school car until she opened up the auto-locks.
"Only after I've told everyone else on earth before you," she shot back. She was tempted to leave him behind, but he was already getting in the car and really, she wasn't sure she'd do that. Even if she should.
"Wouldn't be the first time now, would it?" He lifted eyebrows at her, daring Alisha to argue with that.
"Yes," Alisha said firmly because even if she should have told him sooner, she had mostly definitely not gone around and told everyone about her power. "The only people I told because I wanted to were the ones I was going to sleep with." And Simon, but she still wasn't sure why she'd told him.
"Barry knew," Nathan wasn't about to let that one get away from them so easily. The list of who he knew she'd told was so short that it was quick enough to come to their fellow ASBO's name. He turned in his seat and made a disgusted face at her. "You would with Barry?! He's a mouthbreather fer chris'sake!" Simon was his mate, alright, but that little bastard was still a creeper if Nathan had ever seen one. "Maybe you've a kink for antisocial specials, enh?"
"I have not slept with Simon," Alisha said firmly, glad she had to focus on the road. It kept her from squirming under the attention. It wasn't like she actually had and she didn't want to, even if he didn't look scrawny anymore.
She was also not answering his kink question although that one did make her flush as she thought of Scott.
"Seriously?! You're blushing now?" Nathan chortled into the words, giving her reddened cheeks a good look, and only just reminded himself not to reach over and pinch one. "She does like her a bit of maladjusted brooder creep," he went on, immensely entertained by this revelation, and banged on the dash with percussive delight instead. "You've got a type. What, is it... Just because they're the ones least likely to ever actually get it in there? The forbidden fruit? The unobtainable banana?"
"The playboy," she shot back, hoping to divert his attention from where she didn't want it. "I'm going to New York this New Year's with Sirius. You'll be spared a dance with me." Then, just to rub it in, she added, "Last time I went with Brian." She doubted either of the boys would be happy to know that Nathan knew about what was or had been going on, but better to tell him that than have him think she was interested in Simon.
Playboy? Well, he supposed that did make loads more sense for Alisha than the sort who went around with their buttons done all the way up on their starched collars and Nazi-youth-posterchild haircuts. "You mean the rich boy," Nathan grumbled. "If I had a bajillion in the bank thanks to good 'ol mum and dad, I could open a few more thighs myself," he argued, reaching to try and tear the tag off of his jumper - which proved to be a stubborn one. "Serious? Which one's that?"
"Well, I grant you that Brian was more dull than not. He had his moments, but there were other reasons." Like the fact that she hadn't had to use her powers. "But I wouldn't care if Sirius were rich or not." It helped that he was, of course, but only because it would mean they'd have time alone without everyone at the school staring at them.
"Sirius Black. You know, from that show?"
"I dunno. Sort of sounds familiar, I guess. Was he the cunt from EastEnders?" Nathan brought the tag on the sleeve of the jumper up to his teeth, getting a good clench on the bit of plastic and growling, almost dog-like, as he yanked away at it.
"Made in Chelsea. That reality show?" She glanced over and shook her head. "We'll be back at the school soon and then they'll have scissors." Under her breath, she added, "If you could be trusted with scissors."
"Okay, so you like 'em famous even more than rich," was all Nathan had to say for Serious. "You know, you fatally impale yourself on a pair of scissors through the eye at a run one time - just one time! - and people act like you shouldn't be handed sharp objects anymore," he complained, frowning at the stubborn tag and giving it one more go with his teeth. He cackled triumphantly as he finally tore the tag off, spitting the paper bit onto the dash and rubbing the weave of the jumper so you couldn't see the place where he'd stretched it a bit out of shape in his vigor. "Hey! You could talk to him about having me on for a few episodes as a quirky cousin or neighbour or some shite like that, right? I could milk that with the ladies for years."
"Why did you put that thing on now?" she asked, shaking her head at him. She could just see the reactions people would have to him wearing that in public. With her in public and without any 'bad sweater party' excuse. She shook her head and sighed. Taking him out shopping had been a bad idea. "And no, I'm not going to talk to Sirius to ask him to get you on the show. If you want to get on, you'll have to talk to him yourself."
"Because I'm full of Christmas spirit and piss and vinegar? Because that's the face you make when I do wear it?" Nathan looked down at the front of his jumper, nodding his head in satisfaction with his magnificent score. "That party's gonna be my bitch in this bitch."
"You're full of something," Alisha muttered.
