Fashion Advice ((for sweetcandygirl))

[fiveofnone]

At a small café in the heart of the Shopping District, Caspar sits at an outdoor table and sips from his tiny ceramic cup of espresso. Outwardly, his expression is one of calm indifference, but inside, he's a little concerned. For not the first time since he sat down, he pulls out his PINpoint and re-reads the text from Harley on its glowing screen.

It's not unusual for Harley to send him a text. It is unusual for her to request fashion advice. She seems pretty set on her style, such as it is. Her asking for help is like him asking for help.

Highly unlikely.

He agreed, naturally. He can't turn down an afternoon of clothes shopping, even if something seems off about it. So, hopefully for the last time, he puts his PINpoint away and takes another sip of espresso while he waits for Harley to arrive.

Comments

[fiveofnone]

Any closer and he would have done some damage. But he's holding back, too. In a real fight, a no-holds-barred battle, he'd keep swinging, leaving himself wide open, letting her rain blows on him if it meant a chance to knock her out.

But this isn't a real fight. Harley's not an enemy. Jeff isn't even an enemy anymore, not technically. There's nothing to fight except himself and his own thoughts.

He steps back, holds his hands up in a 'T' for timeout, breathing hard. "What method is that?" he demands between gasps of air.

[sweetcandygirl]

In a real no-holds barred battle, Harley would be using her feet. And her knees. And her head. And her nails. Really anything to beat up her opponent.

She bounces back when he signals for a timeout.

"You would be surprised how much information people give up in the heat of a battle. You chatter a lot, and suddenly they are showing their cards, and you know how to defeat them."

[fiveofnone]

He almost rolls his eyes. Intel is gathered when someone is at a Cylon's mercy, not during a fight. What did he give up, anyway, except --

"Well played," he mutters. pressing a hand against his side. It stings from her jab, but the pain is a lesson he needed to learn. "I think I'm done. Any more and I'll have to explain the bruises to Adia."

[sweetcandygirl]

"I wouldn't want that." Harley stops bouncing, once he tells her that they are done the fight.

She heads over to her bag, and then tosses him a little jar of ointment. "Here! It is the fast-healing type." All natural (and might have come from Ivy's stockhouse).

Leaning on the ropes of the ring, Harley smiles. "I am glad we are on the same page with Jeff. If we are both keeping an eye on him... then really we aren't letting him get away with anything."

"And I will text you and Adia once I know more about Josh."

[fiveofnone]

He shrugs easily. Already he's breathing normally again, albeit looking a little disheveled. "She'd be upset with me, not you." A little humor breaks into his expression when he adds, "She doesn't like it when the merchandise get banged up."

The jar of ointment is caught without a second thought. "Aren't you full of surprises," he says, looking it over. Then, with more sincerity, "Thanks."

He doesn't say anything at first. He's glad they're on the same page, too, but for all they keep an eye on Jeff, they can't undo the damage that he's already caused Josh. "Okay. We'll do the same." He pulls out his PINpoint. "And Harley? No matter what you're wearing, don't stop being yourself. For all our sakes."

He smiles at her once, then teleports home.

[sweetcandygirl]

"And I would not want her to be upset at you." Especially if he needed to vent this way. Harley is glad she was able to be here for him. Just like he was there for her.

"I try to be." She grins.

"And I won't. I happen to like me." Harley waves goodbye him as he teleports home.