somethingwithturquoise | Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

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Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

Summer and Stark were, at this point, on their third space bar, and the evening had been going well. There was a little bit of space shopping before hand, to ensure that they looked their space best, and the first two space bars had been great. This one, however, was not impressing Summer very much, so it might not be too long before they found their way to Space Bar #4. She was pretty sure those were strands of 'Get Schwifty' mixed into whatever god-awful dub-step garbage the DJ was pumping out, and she was having some issues with the jerk bartender.

"That's so speciesist!" she declared. "You can't just assume I can't handle it just because I'm from Earth. I once huffed an entire K-Zax Array!"

"You huffed a Marlazzeh Gay?"

"No!" said Summer. "Well...maybe. I've had some pretty wild weekends lately, but what I said was K-Zax Array! Do you know what that is? That's like smoking The Ring, okay? Most pilots die after three days!"

"I still can't serve that to Earthlings. Federation law."

"Bitch," said Summer, "I destroyed the Federation!"

The bartender looked unimpressed.

"Ugh! Fine! Just...get me two of those glowing smoking ones in the fancy glasses, then, I guess."

And, once she had those two glowing smoking drinks in the fancy glasses, she drifted back over to where Stark was waiting to hand him one and then liberally take a drink from her own. "That bartender," she announced, "sucks. I swear to god, if you tip him over ten percent, I'm leaving you here."

She knew it would probably be impossible to convince Stark not to tip at all, so she figured that was a good compromise.

"....okay, fifteen percent," she allowed, looking at her drink, impressed, "because, damn, that's actually really good. Or I'm already really drunk. One of the two."

[[ for the egregiously modded alien with her, and NFB for distance, obvi ]]

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Stark was, unsurprisingly, very happy to be nudged along.

"Oh. There's a bigger window. For the view. It's a very nice view."

Outside and inside, really.

"A good place to dance. I don't think I've ever danced on a ship before. I've done many things in ships. Not that."

"I needed lots of room," Summer explained, a little proudly, with a touch of nostalgia, giving the back a fond look; even with the elaborate system of cubicles and tunnels against one side of Pancakes, there was plenty of space, with the disco ball hanging over the center of it, a few chairs and a sofa where there used to be only boxes and crates, "for shipping supplies and ingredients for the jello shop. And all the contraband, too, but all of that usually went in the compartments under the floor paneling."

Her gaze then traveled back to Stark with a little lift of her eyebrow. "No dancing on Moya, huh?" she asked, before moving toward a different compartment, one hidden in a side-panel, which opened up to a few bottles. "Drink?"

"I would love another drink," Stark said, nodding. "If you'll make it for me. And no. No chances for dancing on Moya. I didn't ever really have opportunities to dance before. But I like doing it. Especially with you. But I think you know that already. Unless you thought someone else was my favorite dance partner."

"I mean," said Summer, "sounds like the numbers are kind of doing a lot of the work for me with that one."

There wasn't a wide selection of boozy, drinky things in the emergency booze compartment, really, so making Stark a drink, in this instance, allowed her to show off her impressive bartending skills of pouring raspberry vodka into a red Solo cup and handing it over.

"Not exactly a deep pool for comparison."

"I've danced with other people since," Stark said. "I like dancing with you best."

Sure, there still weren't that many possible partners to choose from. But that didn't make it less true.

"Thank you," he said, taking the cup and grinning.

"You're welcome," said Summer, with a look that said she could emphasize the whole numbers thing a little more, but she wouldn't, so he was welcome for that, too, as she poured some of the vodka into a second cup and then set the bottle back into the compartment.

"Cheers," she said, lifting her cup in a toast before making up for whatever sobering had occurred between this drink and the last one by basically emptying the entire thing in just a few big gulps as if the cup had really been just a formality.

"To... dancing? And very pretty views?" Stark suggested before he followed suit with his own cup.

"And... finally getting a ride in your ship."

"And being a better bartender with just flavored vodka and Solo cups than that last guy," Summer added, because that felt important, and never mind the face she made from having just chugged that much raspberry vodka in one fell swoop, a face she made at what remained in her cup, because even she couldn't manage to get all of it.

But it did the trick, and it did it quickly, and even though her stomach gave a little murmur of protest about the whole thing, her head was on its way to a nicely swimming state again. She finished up the last of the drink, to set the cup aside, and looked at Stark with a faint smile as the random play moved onto another song and she stepped in closer.

"Soooooo," she said, a hand lightly finding its way to Stark's chest. "About this dancing..."

Stark carefully set his cup down and stepped a little closer.

"I've been waiting," he said quietly as he moved to slide both arms behind Summer's back. "For dancing and for..."

Look, they were alone now and both tasted of raspberry and they were both at least a little buzzed and if he couldn't steal a kiss now when could he?

It was true; it was prime kiss-stealing conditions, and if Stark hadn't taken advantage of that, Summer would have been terribly disappointed. And as his arms went around her back, hers went up around his shoulders to pull herself in closer, and maybe the kiss didn't need to be quite so stolen.

She had thought they'd maybe keep the pretense going a little while longer, but this was good, too.

Maybe they could do dancing and kissing at the same time. A novel idea well worth exploring!

"I've wanted to do that all day," he told her. He'd pulled back just enough to talk. "Is it even still the same today? It's hard to tell with different planets. Since we left." Longer than that, really.

"But we should still dance."

"We should," Summer agreed softly. Her eyes were still closed, her fingers curling and brushing lightly at the nape of Stark's neck. Feeling the sway of the music, and the vodka, their bodies close, the hands against her back, and she smiled. "I like dancing with you, too, Stark."

Stark let out a very soft, contented sigh and slid one hand a little lower on Summer's back. "I'm glad. We should dance more often but I'm very glad we're dancing now. Here. I like it here."

On the ship. In the back of the ship. On this planet. All of those different heres.

"Told you it was a good spot," said Summer, because practically had to, right? She opened her eyes and grinned at Stark for a moment, before appreciating everything with a sense of pride. The company, the setting, the vibe, even the disco ball actually making a little sense in this situation instead of just being an ironic choice in decor...

"And you're almost always right," Stark told her softly. "Maybe always right about different planets?"

He liked the disco ball. It was sparkly!

"Do you usually dance on your ship?" he asked, glancing up at said ball.

He also wanted to ask if the couch was as comfortable as the one in her apartment but he wasn't quite there yet. Right now he was very happy to just be moving with her and holding her close.

"Kind of," Summer admitted, with a small laugh, "if you count me and Pancakes jamming out in the cockpit on long trips, anyway..."

She'd followed his eyes upward toward the ball, though, and...maybe it was her own attention to it a second ago, combined with the lyrics of the song itself seeming to give a little inspirational nudge, but she bit her lip and looked back to Stark.

"So," she told him, "I just had a potentially dumb idea ..."

"I didn't even know Pancakes danced," Stark said, smiling. "What's your idea?"

"Okay, so, maybe it's just me," Summer rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. "She just kind of sits there and judges."

Gee, wonder where she picked that up from?

But that wasn't what Summer cared about or was even thinking about right now. She looked at Stark for an anticipatory, hesitant moment.

"I think," she proposed, keeping her eyes on his and starting to play a little with the straps at the back of his neck as if to entice him him toward the idea a little more, to sweeten the deal almost, "you should take off the mask."

Stark looked at her, startled, but made no move to pull away. He rather liked the feeling of her hands on his neck but that would hardly be news to Summer.

"You know I don't mind if you do," he said, watching her curiously for a moment before tilting his head back slightly.

"But why?"

"Trust me," said Summer, knowing that, for most people with any modicum of common sense, that might be kind of a big ask, but that, with Stark, it was probably just redundant, and her fingers trailed a little along his neck that much more on their way to taking care of buckles and straps, "you'll see."

She almost wanted to remind him that she did say it was pretty dumb, but she didn't, she just carefully, slowly, worked to gently pull his mask away, and then immediately looked up to confirm her suspicions...

That the glowing light from that side of his face would catch on the mirrored surface of the disco ball and send it scattering across the converted cargo hold that was the back of her ship in thousands of refracted pieces.

"...awesome," she breathed out proudly, happily, and then looked back at Stark to see what he might have to think about it.

Summer had yet to give him any reason not to trust her. He hoped she wasn't going to.

Stark gave a little shiver as his mask was removed.

"What did you... oh. Oh." He looked back up at the ball, then watched the light playing around the ship and on Summer's face. "That's new. That's... it's pretty."

He kept that side of his face covered so often. He didn't really think about doing pretty things with that part of himself.

Summer grinned as she watched that moment of realization cross Stark's face, and she lifted her eyes back up to the results of their combined brilliance, her arms going back around his shoulders, mask still dangling from one of her hands, since putting it down would mean pulling away.

"We have got to do this high next time," she decided.

"Next time?" Stark echoed hopefully. "We can do this again?"

There was no reason to think they wouldn't but he didn't want to presume anything.

"I'd like that. Do you... is your couch comfortable? If we laid down..."

"Tired from dancing already, Stark?" asked Summer, unable to help herself, especially with how proud she was feeling right now at that dumb idea turning out so well.

"I'm not tired at all," Stark said. "I thought if I were laying on my back, then the light..."

He looked up at the ball, then back at Summer, smiling hesitantly.

"It might be even prettier?"

And hey, if they were laying down who knows what might happen...

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