taxonomites | 006: [Location: Hyperion Hotel] Like the Prom, Only with Legal Alcohol Supply

006: [Location: Hyperion Hotel] Like the Prom, Only with Legal Alcohol Supply

Party time!

Cordelia, clad in her chosen outfit for the night, made final rounds inside the hotel to make sure everything was perfect. The decorations were subdued and classy - thanks to both Dawn and Fred, and even the garden was opened so that those who wished to step out and inhale the fake Taxon air could do so. There were tons of wine, beer, scotch, vodka - and if Doyle's selections weren't enough, there's a hatch conveniently behind the refreshments table.

The hotel lobby was cleared of all the furniture, so that the mingling and the dancing could take place more comfortably. If people wanted to take a tour of the hotel, they were welcomed to do so save for three rooms: Fred's, Angel's, and Wesley's office. For not-so-obvious-but-quite-sentimental reasons.

[OOC: This party takes place after the Liar Liar glitch took effect. Mingle! Threadjack! Interrupt! Have fun!]

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"Dawn, hey. Thanks."

The beer in his hand is switched to the other so he can awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

Rolling her eyes a little, Dawn sighs. "I don't bite, Sam. And I promise, my full focus of humiliation is on Dean. Unless you want to show him up...?"

Yes, she is indeed angling for a dance.

Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Show him up how, exactly?"

Yes, he is not very good when it comes to subtle clues.

"I'm forcing him to dance with me. I used the 'you missed my birthday' guilt against him." And there's not even a little bit of shame in her voice.

Edited 2009-08-21 02:57 (UTC)

"Oh, I've found that guilt can be a really great motivation when it comes to Dean," Sam admits.

He pauses to take a sip of beer.

Sigh. The Winchesters can be a little clueless sometimes.

"That was me asking if you would dance with me too, Sam. You know, at some point tonight."

"Oh. Right."

Sam chuckles, and there might be a little blush that follows.

"Okay. Sure."

"It's okay, apparently I can be a little less than linear sometimes."

The blush is just about the cutest thing ever on a guy roughly the size of a redwood, but Dawn refrains from commenting.

"Okay, cool! Dancing will happen."

"We can dance now," Sam points out, shrugging one shoulder.

"You know, if you want. Or you can take a dance card, come back later on. Whatever."

"No, sure! I just thought you might want to..." She shrugs, makes a small hand gesture that involves wiggling her fingers. "Mingle. But no, so much yes on the dancing."

"I have a confession to make," Sam admits.

"I don't really know that many people to mingle with. Or maybe I'm just not a fan of mingling to begin with."

Laying a hand on his arm, Dawn grins up at him. "Well, I am pretty much the mingling champion, so stick with me. We'll have you mingling like a pro in no time."

Setting her trusty diet Coke on a nearby table, she uses the hand on Sam's arm to tug him towards the dance floor. "But for now, dancing."

Edited 2009-08-21 03:23 (UTC)

"Mingling like a pro? How long does it take for someone to reach pro mingler status, anyway?"

As she starts to lead him towards the floor, he finishes off his beer in one long sip. Nothing like a little liquid confidence, anyway.

"It depends." Assuming her 'i r srs tiny Watcher, this r srs bsns' face-- it works wonders on baby Slayers and fractious government officials alike-- Dawn nods solemnly. "Are you taking the accelerated class or the slower route? And will you be signing up for the lab portion, etcetera. All important considerations."

The beer swallow gets a wrinkled nose-- sorry, Sam, she just really hates beer, largely because it tastes gross and smells equally gross-- but she doesn't say anything.

...That is, until they're out on the floor and she has to tilt her head a little to look Sam in the eye. Then she laughs and says, "You are officially tall like a tree is tall. I'm five-eleven in these heels and I feel tiny. Were you by any chance fed MiracleGro as a child?"

Sam never used to be a big beer drinker - not until, you know, the whole series of events happened with the two of them being out on the road and having to deal with all kinds of horrible demons and ghosts and whatnot.

He looks down at her and chuckles quietly.

"Guess the height gene skipped a generation. Or just Dean entirely."

...That might do it, yeah.

"He keeps calling me short. I think next time I'm just going to taunt him about relative shortness compared to you."

FYI, Sam, Dawn a) is a pretty amazing dancer, and b) might hurt you if you step on her feet.

Sam's got pretty big feet of his own, but he's doing his best to shuffle around without actually stepping on any toes. Which isn't that hard, when he stops overthinking it.

"I think he's a little self-conscious about it, so that might even work in your favor."

There are amazing shoes to consider. Ruining works on art like those knows no friend, just revenge. And Dawn does appreciate it once he stops freaking out; she's not exactly going to introduce any fancy moves, but it does make her less nervous about her toes.

"Like, really self-conscious or normal Dean 'grr, I'm a manly man darnit' self-conscious? Because it's not fun if he's actually really bothered by it."

"Oh, more of the second. He doesn't like to think he's being emasculated in any way, you know? But that's Dean for you. He'd rather be a man's man than a girly girl."

Sam grins down at her.

"Okay, smackdown is planned. And yeah, I've gotten that sense. Mostly from the prolonged whining about the tux."

Dawn smiles back. "You're not too bad at this, you know that?"

"I'm not?" Sam looks down at their feet in what might actually be surprise.

"Well, that's reassuring."

"Nope!" Dawn grins, teasingly. "I might be choosing to assign it to awesome partnering, but props for you."

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006: [Location: Hyperion Hotel] Like the Prom, Only with Legal Alcohol Supply

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